Our Family at Pearl Harbor: Preston Van De Riet and the "Lucky Lou"

Did you know that we have a close Van De Riet cousin who was a stationed in Pearl Harbor during the attack? His name was Preston Van De Riet, and he was my grandma LaVonne's first cousin. Also first cousin to her brothers, WWII vets Harry, Jack, and Ray Van De Riet. 

 

Preston Van De Riet at the Royal Hawaiian Hotel, sometime before the attack. 

Preston in uniform.

I visited with Preston's son Dennis before our family traveled to Hawaii last year. I asked him if he would teach my children about his Dad's experiences to help prepare them for our visit to the Pearl Harbor Memorial. He was kind enough to make a recording for us, and I would like to share some of the transcript here with you, with his permission. He also answered some additional questions for me, provided the pictures, pointed out the video links and supplemental media. Okay, okay, he pretty much is the guest blogger today. I'm just typing.  Thanks again, Dennis! I wish I would have known this connection when I was a teenager! Pull up a chair everyone, you'll enjoy this.

Preston Van De Riet as a child

Hello. My name is Dennis Van De Riet and my father, Preston Van De Riet, was a survivor of the attack on Pearl Harbor, December 7th, 1941. I would just like to give you a little background information on that. My father Preston was the son of Hiram Van De Riet who was the 6th of 8 children from Sarah and Herman Van De Riet. He was born in 1920 and joined the marines in February of 1941, about 8 or 9 months before the onset of WWII. As a marine, though, he was immediately stationed on a ship. He was trained in a couple of different areas but his main task was ammunition handler. And of course, almost every ship has gun turrets, so I’m sure he was heavily involved in running the guns there, especially during the attack.

USS Missouri firing her guns during Desert Storm, 1991
fifty years after Pearl Harbor. photo credit: wikipedia USS Missouri  

When you get to the USS Arizona look across the harbor. That is where the St. Louis was moored, along with a couple of other cruisers. The St. Louis [was his ship.] Now, you've gotta understand that my father, like any other WWII veteran, never, ever talked about his experiences in WWII. I mean never! Except for one time he did talk about the attack on Pearl Harbor.

the USS St. Louis, the "Lucky Lou"

He mentioned a couple of things, number one is that for his ship…the attack was on a Sunday, and most ships were at half-staffing because most of them were on liberty. They had liberty days on weekends. So, most of the ships were at half manpower. But... his ship for whatever reason was at full manpower, which allowed them to respond to the attack and get underway a lot faster than most of the other ships.

The number two thing is, that when they did get underway they were following the battleship Nevada. It was able to get away but was severely damaged in the initial attack. As it was getting underway, it was heading toward the mouth of the harbor. The captain of the Nevada realized he would not make it out, and if he did not make it out he would sink and block all access in and out of the harbor, so he made the decision to beach his ship off to the side. The St. Louis, being right behind it, was able to become the first ship out of Pearl Harbor during the attack. They did undergo a lot of attacks obviously from the air. The St. Louis was damaged but not severely damaged. They were also tracking down submarines–mini-submarines–at the time. But they did get out, made it to open seas, and made it eventually to San Francisco.

a Japanese midget submarine

Washington Post article about the "Lucky Lou" 

Here is a clip from a survivor--one of Preston's shipmates-- talking about his experience, titled "How the USS St. Louis fought back Dec. 7th."

After the St. Louis was repaired at Mare Island, near San Francisco, it turned to sea and headed back out to the Pacific. Then, of course, we became heavily involved in WWII. 

Preston Van De Riet's commendation

The St. Louis was involved in a number of battles, but probably the biggest battle it was involved in was in July of 1943, about a year and a half after Pearl Harbor. It was the Battle of Kolombangara which was in the Solomon Islands. It was about a 3 or 4 day naval battle, in which his ship, the St. Louis, was hit right square in the broadside by a torpedo, but the torpedo didn’t detonate, it was a dud! Very lucky for them. 

The very next day, they were hit on the bow with a torpedo, see picture.

The ship was severely damaged by that, however they were able to seal the water off and were able to sail back, actually, all the way from the Solomon Islands to Mare Island in San Francisco after that. During that battle, the St. Louis had a sister ship called the USS Helena, and that ship was torpedoed and sunk during this battle. But the St. Louis survived, they made it back to port, and it was repaired. Now that was a long repair, so my father was reassigned to another ship.

This time the ship was stationed out of the East coast, and he actually ended up in the Mediterranean Sea for the duration of the war, making it very unusual for somebody to fight in both the Pacific and in the European theater during WWII. But he ended up in North Africa and South Italy and that area of the Mediterranean, mostly transporting prisoners that were captured. The name of the ship he was on in that time was the USS General JR Brooke. 

I don’t have a lot of information because my father never ever talked about his combat time during WWII. I know that just from pictures I’ve been able to glean off the internet and information off the internet. It was a pretty taxing time to be sure. But anyway, he survived, he made it through, obviously or I wouldn’t be here.

Another unusual thing about his career, he joined as a marine but he spent his entire career on a ship, either the St. Louis or the Brooke, and even more unusual than that is that in my career in the service I spent four years in the navy and I never went on a ship. I spent all my time on land, a unique contrast.

I asked Dennis what happened to his Dad after the war--what was the "rest of the story?" 

[Preston] married my mother in 1944, before the war ended. They met in San Francisco while his ship was being repaired. Since my mother was Jewish, my dad converted to Judaism before they got married. They had three children while they lived in San Francisco.They lived in SF until 1956 when they moved to San Mateo (18 miles south of San Francisco). He was involved in Cub/Boy Scouts and Little League and also was a CB radio enthusiast. But most of all he liked camping, boating and fishing. We belonged to a boat club in San Mateo and we all learned to water ski.

Every year we had our vacation at Lake Shasta, camping in tents with the boat near by. Fishing every day (even caught a fish every now and again) and just enjoying the great outdoors. He retired form a company that printed magazines (most notably "TV Guide") in the mid 1970s and moved permanently my mother to Lake Shasta until his death in 1981.

Dennis said that he didn't have his Dad's medals for a picture here, but here is a list of the medals he was awarded. 

American Campaign Medal

Europe-Africa-Middle East Campaign Medal

Asiatic-Pacific Campaign Medal

Navy China Service Medal

Philippine Liberation Medal

WWII Victory Medal

Combat Action Ribbon

Philippine Presidential Unit Citation

Thank you Dennis, to both you and your father for your service to our country! I loved learning this story.

Coyotes and Gentlewomen

 

This one's a fictional short story, folks. Based on Bess Kale Van De Riet.

Coyotes and Gentlewomen

By Jaclyn H. Day

The first time they met, that November, Mrs. Hudson caught Bess crying into the coyote meat. Her face was sunburned, nose running, and apron and hands too bloody to wipe anything.  Harry had told Bess that she was a born crier, and sure enough, there she was, dead on her feet and dribbling away.

“Oh,” Mrs. Hudson said.  “I don’t mean to interrupt.”

Bess smiled and shook her head in a way she hoped said, “Nonsense.” She set down the wretched knife on the outdoor table and looked around the surrounding woods as if she would find a place to wash, exchange aprons, and pull up a chair for her illustrious guest.  Her stomach informed her that her day was not about to improve.

“Please excuse the disarray,” Bess said. She gestured to the carcass, the buckets full of meat and offal, and herself. “Please. Step into my new parlor, Ray’s asleep in the house.  There are some stumps here in the sun that the boys have been playing on.  I was ready for a rest anyway, so I am so glad you stopped by this afternoon.  So very glad.”

The guest chose a stump. She settled her dark plaid skirts around her, folded her neat brown hands in her lap, and gazed around politely. Bess turned to blot at her face with the underside of her apron and wrapped her gore-covered hands into a wad of the same. She hoped her hair wasn’t disastrous.

Mrs. Hudson, on the other hand, was magnificent. She was very tall, not a hair out of place, and her braid thick as a wrist and glossy. Harry had said that her uncle was an old Blackfoot chief, blind now. She looked completely at home, and rightly so. This was the Hudson’s ranch. The Van De Riet’s were just renting a bunkhouse. Bess took a seat on a short, thick stump across from her. At least her work boots weren’t swinging above the ground like a child’s.

“How are you settling in?”  The voice was low and patient, as though she was soothing one of her favorite heifers. Not, Bess felt, that far from the mark.  Then Mrs. Hudson peered more closely, and Bess met her eyes full on. She steeled herself for a highly uncomfortable conversation regarding the morning’s incident. It involved their sons—two Hudson’s, three Van De Riet’s--a switchblade, a braid, and a hitching post. 

But that didn’t come up. Yet. 

“You look familiar to me.” 

Bess had seen that look and heard a similar question all her life, or at least half of her life. The insidious, “Now which one are you?” People would peer at her, cataloging the clues they saw in her expression, the wave in her hair, the coy tilt of her chin. Her breath caught. She still wanted to be recognized as herself. There was no laughing mirror-image anymore, the stepping on her toe—don’t tell them who’s who! If Jessie were here to take over, she could crawl into the closet and pile quilts over her head. And the boys would never know. 

Bess studied the other woman. They seemed to be around the same age. 

“Dillon! 1915.” Mrs. Hudson’s wide smile showed a disarming gap.

It was only one night, eons ago. Yes. Bess laughed out loud and beamed. “Oho! I remember! So, you came back here, as soon as you were able?” 

“Allowed. Yes.” 

Bess swallowed. “You’ve done so well for yourself…this ranch, those handsome boys…” She gestured toward what Harry affectionately called the Big House. Drat. She shouldn’t have mentioned the boys, but now things would be easier.

“Did you teach after all?”

“Yes,” Bess said, “while Harry was overseas. Then we married, and the children came along…” Could she put the rest into words?

“Three boys?”

“Well, yes.” Now. “And another boy and a baby girl, both in Heaven.” 

Mrs. Hudson did not drop her gaze. Bess had to open her mouth one more time.

“And also…” she glanced down towards the apron tied around her overcoat. She cleared her throat, softly, willing her to understand. A dimple flashed.

Mrs. Hudson clucked, exhaled. “I think you’d better call me Lavonne.”

“Bess,” she answered in turn, with a gasp. “And I’m so sorry about Harry Jr. this morning! I took away his knife and told him he will take his licking just as soon as his Dad gets home. I don’t know what got into him! Pinning Frank’s hair to the post…and he didn’t even cry! Frank, I mean.”

Lavonne nodded, unsurprised. “He said you’d let them go. He cried once he came home. Don’t say I told you. Our big boys, they are trying to lay down the law while the men are gone. They just don’t like that the littler ones don’t pay them any mind.  Anyway, Joe was just as much to blame as Harry Jr., the way I heard it.” She clapped her palms hard onto her skirts and rolled her eyes. “It was his lariat that tied the three of them to the post. Even your little one! I came to apologize.”

Bess should have walked Frank back to the Big House after rescuing the young captives, (Ray squalling for his mama like a black bear) but he scampered off, and lunch was on the stove. Harry Jr. took Jack to skip rocks in the creek afterward, by way of apology. Ray needed a blessed nap. Once he was under, she flew outside and began hacking through four coyote carcasses, rather desperately. The hides meant money--and the rest meant meat for the traps and the hounds, who ate like buffaloes.   

Hudson’s hired men had retrieved the coyotes and brought them around the evening before. The men rode away, and there they were, raggedy scamps just hanging from the roughhewn cross pole Harry had lashed up. At last, and four at once! But he and John Hudson had left for Alberta. Hudson needed another driver at the last minute, and Harry needed the cash. They’d be home in a few days—if the weather held. 

Silly, but Bess had imagined the whole scene. She would suggest to Harry, while he stomped off his boots, that they needed more wood from the woodshed.  She’d be rocking Ray by the stove, her eyes half closed, hiding her mouth in the baby’s hair.  He would grump his way to the shed, muttering against Harry Jr. and the duties of the hearth. Maybe he’d even stack a few roughly barked lengths of the sweet, crunching pine into his arms before he looked up. There, nailed to the lean-to wall, would be four new pelts. Ears already wrinkling, eyes now slits, their abundant winter-coat tails would sway and roll along the boards with the icy gusts.  And she, his porcelain, fresh-aproned wife had skinned them! She could manage things! 

Mostly she wanted to surprise him. Before the other surprise she had waiting for him. It was like a sign, you see, a chinook in this new place after the years of winter they’d had. She’d tell him about the baby after the boys were asleep. Otherwise they’d think she was crying about those babies in heaven with Jessie. Or about living in the woods for this half-cracked scheme of their father’s, who, after the war and the loss of two children, was gasping not to be half-cracked himself… No.

She knew she would cry then because maybe it was going to be alright. 

“No apology needed. Oh dear, no. Boys!” and that was enough common ground for both.

Lavonne brushed off her lap as she readied to go, but then she said, “I hope it wasn’t the boys who made you cry.”

She’d noticed, then. “No, no…. it’s this.” They surveyed the coyote stretched across the table, paws to the sky. “I’ve butchered one once before, but not while in this maternal condition! I’ll feel better in a few weeks, but for now the smell just—” she had to swallow the rest of her sentence and shake her head to clear the rising bile.

Lavonne laughed sympathetically. “I know the feeling! And you’re probably exhausted besides. And with the boys and the dogs, and John stole your husband away…does he know yet?”

Bess tucked in her lips and shook her head. 

Lavonne continued, “When I’ve been unwell my sister has been able to come and stay. She’s not married, you see. She tends to the chores and is a better cook anyway—it’s such a mercy! Do you remember her from that night in Dillon? We were both there. We’re twins.”

Bess shot to her feet. The Fort Shaw twins! That’s why she had trouble placing Lavonne by herself. The night the two schools had met, she’d noticed the sisters right away, even without the matching bows and uniforms. She had cried of course, fresh in her grief. What would college be like without her other half storming the castle? 

“I do remember! The two of you were darling. ‘Deadly Duo,’ the papers said. But what I don’t think you know is that I am also a twin! Jessie passed years ago—she was sick. I was just wishing she were here to get me out of this pickle!” The tears welled up again.

Lavonne, eyes wide at the coincidence, also stood. She put her hand on Bess’s shoulder. Then, with a short laugh, “Listen. Maybe your sister on the other side gave Joe and Harry Jr their big ideas so the two of us would meet.”

Bess sniffed. “The tricks were usually her idea.”  

Lavonne agreed. “Susan likes to say, ‘Tricks are just using your advantages.’”

Bess stationed herself grimly behind the critter. “Mm. I’ve played a trick today—on myself! I so wanted to finish these carcasses before the men come back. Maybe if I wear a kerchief over my nose?”

Lavonne hesitated, “I could—”

“You’re kind, but no. Harry would…have my hide if I let you lift a finger. He’d be embarrassed. If I get any worse, I will just hang this one back up until he gets home.”

The women watched the few remaining birds flit through the trees. Lavonne turned her face toward the Big House and readied to leave. “Sounds like the boys are playing again.”

Bess had been hearing a regular crash-bang sound but couldn’t quite place it. 

“They seem to like the new hoop. John hung it on the barn last week. She took a step then whirled back. “I have an idea!” She listened again. “Are you feeling well, besides the smell getting to you?”

Bess’s brow furrowed. “Well, I tire easily, but yes, I can do things. I rode the horses for the last time with Jack a little yesterday. It was fine other than getting too much sun.”

Lavonne was nodding. “Leave that,” she shooed at the buckets of flesh, “and come with me.” She swung her braid over her shoulder and tugged at Bess’s sleeve.

Bess stood and followed, partly from curiosity, partly from delight. A twin to boot!

After checking on Ray at his nap, the women strode toward the enormous barn. Around back, they stood at the perimeter of a clearing. Joe Hudson, Harry Jr., and some of the older neighbor boys were passing around a basketball. The smaller boys watched, piled with the dogs on the sidelines.

“How is the new hoop?” Lavonne called out pleasantly. A few of the boys glanced their way, expressionless, not wanting to halt their play. Joe noticed his mother and Bess together.

“Just fine!” When Bess and Lavonne continued to watch, he nudged Harry Jr. and approached for the impending judgment.

“Boys. Mrs. Van De Riet and I have been getting acquainted this afternoon.”

Harry Jr. kicked at the dirt with his toe, his ears turning red. A long silence stretched out. Finally, Joe asked, “Are we in for it, then?”

Lavonne smiled. “Well,” she put one hand on each boy’s head. “Let’s have some fun with this. Shall we?” The boys looked at each other, alarmed. Lavonne beckoned for one of the boys to bring her the basketball. What was she doing? Bess took a step back. She wouldn’t! But hadn’t she said something about tricks and--advantages?

“Boys, how would you like to make a bet. A real bet. Not with money—that would be gambling, and we don’t hold with that. If you win, you’re off the hook.” 

Harry Jr. tilted his freckled face. He wasn’t sure how to read this. “But what if we lose?”

Lavonne rubbed her mouth and chin and made considering sorts of noises. Bess hid a smile but started flexing and drumming her tingling fingers inside her skirts. “You’ll have to do a Man’s Job for your mama. Her choice. The both of you. Agreed?” 

The boys considered, nodded. They’d hauled wood lots of times before. 

 “I hear this is the ‘wild west?’” Lavonne passed the ball hard and fast to her son. She flashed the gap in her teeth. “Ever been in a shootout?” 

Bess closed her eyes and prayed.

It was late, and the snow was dropping hard.  John Hudson had predicted a three-dog night, for cold. Right again. Harry grumbled to himself, stomping to the woodshed. He hadn’t even washed his face or kissed his wife yet. Bess looked so sweet and homey there in the rocker with Ray. Why was he running errands that his sons should have done while he was gone? He had hoped this winter would make a man out of Harry Jr., but obviously, it was going to take a little more of a father’s guiding hand. Too much of a boys’ paradise, this place.

He didn’t want to trip over a tree root in the dark, so it startled him when he looked up and saw four coyote pelts nailed on the plank wall. He put his hands on his hips, staring, then reached out to feel the rich tails.

Bess was creeping up the path behind him, arms wrapped around herself for warmth. She laughed softly. The snowflakes melted and sparked on her forehead.

“Did you do this?” he pulled her toward him, under the shelter of the lean to.

She hesitated and then answered, “No. Joe Hudson and Harry Jr. did the skinning. Joe only had to show Harry once—he caught on pretty quick. It was a good use of that hunting knife you gave him.”

He wondered if the hunting knife had given any grief. Bess nestled into his coat. “I finally met John’s wife. She’s wonderful. Did you know she is a twin? Well, I shouldn’t say I met her—we met years ago, actually. She and her sister played on that basketball team from the Fort Shaw Indian school. You know, the one that made the headlines all the time?  They certainly put on a show in Dillon. We lost. Handily. But, I think it was my highest scoring game. She seems to remember me better than I was.”

“That right? Well, I bet she remembers just fine. You were a hot shot. It was the bloomers and the banners you wore. They definitely improved your accuracy.”

She shoved him a little, and they turned back to the shed wall.

“Four coyotes, whaddaya know? First day I was gone?” 

She nodded.

“Rascals, aren’t they?”

She snorted in agreement and pointed to each hide. “Let’s name this one Harry for sure, this one Jack, this one Ray…,” she swallowed, “this one, if it’s a girl, we could call her LaVonne.”

 

HISTORICAL NOTE

The germ for this story came from a colorful phone interview with Aunt Bonnie. She asked if I knew where my Grandma LaVonne got her name. I primly told her it was after her grandmother, Lavina. 

Bonnie cackled.

No, she said, she was named after a Mormon Indian woman named LaVonne Hudson. Harry and Bess had met her when they were up coyote trapping in Babb, Montana, and Harry was bootlegging on the side. Betcha didn’t know that! 

I didn’t. I had only vaguely heard of my great-grandparents’ magical time—a gap year really-- on the Galbreath Ranch. And I certainly hadn’t heard of any woman, let alone a namesake who was a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints, the same church Grandma would join as a young mother and raise her family in.

Bess would have been pregnant with my Grandma LaVonne during the coyote adventure, right in the prime of her first trimester. Oofda. I don’t know much about trapping coyotes, but I have carried six children. (Bess carried nine.) The story was born.

Fact-checking further revealed that, like most family lore, Bonnie’s version was a gumming together of the interesting bits. So, I thought it only appropriate that the Lavonne of my story be a compilation of several real figures. The real Lola Lavon Hudson WAS also a twin. She was sister-in-law to a well-to-do Blackfoot man, Jack Galbreath. The Galbreath’s were Latter-Day Saints. Any bootlegging done under their noses would have been particularly ironic. 

The Fort Shaw Indian school had a world-famous women’s basketball team—literally. They were on exposition at the 1904 World’s Fair in St. Louis, a decade before Bess would have played against them. The girls were not usually enrolled in the school by choice. Basketball was a less-restrictive activity (considered as ladylike as tennis) that they welcomed. I wanted their prints on my story as well.

Grandma, who also played basketball and was an avid fan, loved to visit the ruins of the old Fort Shaw school—St. Peter’s, and talk about “Big Minnie”. 

LaVonne is holding the ball

Harry and Bess’s situation was as described. Mostly. They had lost two children. They were a little strapped for cash. Harry was a veteran and didn’t like to talk about his WWI experience. Bess did attend Normal School at Dillon (teacher college) and played Women’s Basketball, bloomers, headbands, and all, in 1915. Her twin, Jessie, had died in 1913 of a bone infection linked to tuberculosis. 

(The banners the girls are wearing reflect their year of graduation, not the current year.) Bess is bottom right.

Marie Van De Riet Schnee Kenyon

The biggest omission for the sake of this story was the presence of the Schnee family—Harry’s in-laws. Bailey was a friend of Harry’s before marrying his sister, Marie. He was most likely the mastermind of the whole adventure (and misadventures). The couples shared a duplex on the massive Galbreath ranch on the Blackfeet reservation. Hopefully, Marie was able to help Bess during the pregnancy.

Harry Jr. did tie one of his new friends to a hitching post. By the braids.

Ray, Harry Jr., Jack Van De Riet

Read more about the Van De Riets and their time in Babb in an earlier post.

All About How Ebert Joined the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints

Taken from an interview with Ebert Heagy, by Jaclyn Day, granddaughter, April 2019

“Hi everybody!”

Had you heard of the church [The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints] at all as a kid?

“That brings back a memory.  My brother and I were going fishing with my father, up Sun River at Camel’s Dam.  On the way we went past an area where there were some Mormon properties there.  And my father commented, “Oh, lots of Mormons farm in this particular area.”  Ok, so.... what?  But anyway, that’s my first memory of Mormons being mentioned at all in my life.”

Did you feel like your Mom or Dad or other family members had some strong opinions about them one way or another?

“Oh, perhaps.  I guess it was probably not positive.  Manchester area—that would have been the Thurbers, and the Blackburns are the names that come to mind, Binghams, they were farmers."

Who were your friends that were members of the church, or at what age were you acquainted?

“Oh, my first real contact with them was when I first visited an LDS service one Sunday evening.”

Why did you do that?

“Well, all my friends in the service were working or out of state or something so I decided to go to the Mormon Church and see if they were rolling in the aisles or whatever they did.  Just curious, you know. 

“I met a friend I knew from school, it was Kay Blackburn, and she escorted me into the church and I sat there during the service and everything and saw nobody rolling in the aisles or whatever, and she mentioned something about the youth getting together and there being something to eat.  So anyway, it was a little fireside.”

Do you remember what the fireside was about?

“The kids bore their testimonies to one another.  It was a testimony meeting.  Wow.  Couldn’t have been better, right?”

About how old were you for that?

“18-19, something like that.”

So, you had been at school already and were friends with some of these kids and got invited to the fireside where they were bearing their testimonies—we got that right?—and you were glad they weren’t rolling in the aisles and weird? 

“Mmhmm.  Well, I don’t know, I kinda looked for the show.  That was one of the favorite things my friends and I did was go to different churches. “

What other churches did you go to? 

“Well, the one that was the most memorable was the Assembly of God.  And recently one of my friends, Warren Johnson, died, and I was talking to another friend-Vern Fischer- about Warren and our visit to the Assembly of God Church.

“Vern was sitting next to Warren.  Something about the service or the people tickled Warren and his belly started to jiggle.  Vern could hardly contain himself from laughing, so he got up and went to the back of the chapel of the church.

“We enjoyed going to different churches and things.”

You had a good group of friends.

“Oh, yes.”

I remember you went to BYU for awhile.  How does BYU fit into your story?  Were you already a member of the church, or you weren’t, or why did you do that?

“Yes, I was already a member.  I hadn’t been very long, and looking at going to college.  I kind of wanted to go to a Spanish speaking church in Mexico or someplace.  I had this friend freshly out of the army, he was a paratrooper, and he was looking at colleges as well.  He said he would like to go to school but he wasn’t going to go out of the country, so I talked him into going to BYU.  I had already been to Bozeman for a year myself.”

What kind of classes did you take at BYU?  Did you get to take a Book of Mormon class or anything like that?

“You know, probably that.  Took calculus, and something else that was difficult, I forget.  Anyway, it was way above my head, and I was too busy going to dances every evening.”

You were looking for Grandma?  Was that the problem?

“Well, not necessarily.  I’d already met her.”

I was going to ask you about meeting with the missionaries, or how that happened.  Did you tell your friends you wanted to meet with the missionaries?  Or someone invited you over?

“At that time they were called 'Home Missionaries'.  They happened to be in that testimony meeting, so I was introduced to them, asked if I wanted to meet with them, and 'Sure, I’ll meet with ya', so I met with them before the next Sunday and I was invited to go to church once again.  So I went again, and—you said did I have any questions about religion--?  All the other churches I went to, the Godhead question blew my mind.  I never understood how they could all three be one.  It just didn’t make sense.  So, when it was explained to me...the reality...well, I agreed.  It made sense.  And then everything else that was taught made sense.”

Do you remember the first time you read the Book of Mormon, or what you thought about Joseph Smith?

“I really don’t remember as a youth reading it.  I wasn’t much of a reader at that time, and it was fine with me if Joseph Smith...the Joseph Smith story was just fine with me.”

Mom (Lori) thinks that David O. McKay would have been the prophet at the time.

“That’s true.”

How does Grandma (Bev) come into the story and what did her family think about you being a convert?

“Well I met her before I went to BYU, and then when I came home I started dating her.  And I was accepted unconditionally by her folks.”

I imagine they would have been pretty good to you, with Grandpa Ely having joined the church.

Bev:  It was better than what they were used to seeing me date.  I was dating a Catholic.

What was your family’s reaction when you told them you wanted to join the church?

“Well, the only comment I remember was, 'You know they pay tithing...'" [This got a good laugh as Grandpa has often been teased about the rusty hinges on his wallet—he may have inherited this quality].

So, they didn’t get to come to the sealing, was that difficult?

“Well, I was going to get married no matter what, so...   We had a nice reception.”

Did you and Grandma receive your endowments the same day?  “Yes.”

Do you remember your first calling?

“Yes. I was a statistical clerk.  A membership clerk.  And there were a lot of folks moving in and out because it was Malmstrom Airforce Base, so it was busy.  I also was assigned to visit the hospitals regularly and enjoyed that.”

Mom and I were trying to count how many of your descendants have served missions.  We think 8 and Laura will make 9.  And how many missionaries went out when you were a bishop, that you helped get their paperwork together and help them decide to go?  That was a lot of my friends, so that was several more.

Did you have any particularly favorite experiences while you were a bishop that you’d like to share?  Sorry, surprise question.

“Oh, I don’t know.  I remember Jack Haynes, I guess we were organizing a trip to the temple or something, and Jack Haynes says, “You know definitely who is in control here.”  So anyway, I always liked that comment from Jack Haynes.”

And then you and Grandma were temple workers at the Cardston temple for about how long?

“Weren’t we temple workers six years?  Seven years Grandma says.  Every other weekend, Friday night and Saturday morning we would serve.  And it’s good to be up there even now.  I don’t think there’s been a time we’ve been up there that we haven’t seen somebody that we worked with.  We quit because of the cancer thing.”

I don’t really have any more questions to ask you.  Did you have anything you’d like to add?

“Well, I’m glad that I married a very good woman.  She comes from a good family of hard working people.  And we are so pleased to have the family that we have.  All of you kids, and grandkids, great grandkids—quite a blessing.”

Orphan Parade: Cleora Schlomer Heagy

Cleora Schlomer, college yearbook portrait, ca.

My great-grandmother Cleora and her little brother Ralph lived in an orphanage for three years.  The orphanage was called St. Thomas, and it was run by Catholic nuns--the Sisters of Providence-- in Great Falls, Montana, est. 1909. 

St. Thomas in the 1930s, more than a decade after Cleora and her brother lived there.

 I don't think this building is still standing--currently the St. Thomas orphanage is in a different building and is called the St. Thomas Children and Family Center, operating as more of a daycare.

Originally, though, the orphanage was designed to " care for children from broken homes, orphans or children in need of care for at least a year". 1   Also "it was a school and a boarding house for children who lived in rural areas, and a safe environment for children whose parents were faced with hard times." 2  In its early years, most of the children were under the age of 12.  3 

Cleora and Ralph would have fit most of the above descriptions.  They were partly orphaned in 1914 when their mother, Frieda, died of appendicitis at age 29.  4  Cleora would have been six and Ralph five.  The family was living in Great Falls, MT, and since both parents had immigrated from Germany on their own,5 they really had no extended family support.  Apparently John, the father, tried to manage with the children at home for a few years, but then admitted them to St. Thomas in 1918.  6

https://www.providence.org/about/providence-archives/past-forward-newsletter/winter-2001/historical-photos-from-st-thomas-orphanage

So what changed in 1918?   We aren't entirely sure why John would decide to put his children in the orphanage (this is pre-Depression era), but we do know that John worked at the American Brewery in Great Falls.  7  In 1918, the American Brewery was closed because of the Prohibition (which had passed "early" in Montana on a November 1916 referendum, to go into effect Dec. 31, 1918--they saw the writing on the wall.)

Most likely, John was scrambling for work.  By 1920 the census pegs him as a "laborer" for a brewery, along with several others on his street.8  I wonder if he is not listed as a "brewer" because technically they would not have been brewing.   An article in the Smithsonian Magazine explains that several breweries survived prohibition by retooling or redirecting their equipment to make such concoctions as:  ice cream, cheese, dyes, soft drinks, near-beer, and legal malt extract (which customers bought with a wink, to use for "baking" at home--definitely not home-brewed beer). 9 I don't know which brewing company John moved to or what products they were making.

 

In any case, by June 1921 John retrieved his children. 9  Cleora's daughter-in-law Bev Heagy thinks that he might have finally brought them home because Cleora would have been thirteen and old enough to cook and keep house.  "She cooked like a nun."

The St. Thomas Orphans riding in a parade in Great Falls the year after Cleora and Ralph left.  Very likely this was an annual event, so Cleora and Ralph had probably been on parade a few times.  These are most likely their friends.

 Cleora's son Ebert says that his mother did not really ever talk about her orphanage experience, good or bad.   She remained Catholic and wore a little crucifix (but didn't drive or ask for ANYTHING, and her lunkhead sons never offered to chauffeur her to attend Mass, says Bev.) So, hopefully it was a good experience, especially in contrast to her interactions with her father John, which were at times angry/drunk/and probably abusive.  Sometimes if she walked home from school and he was in bad mood, she would hide out by the railroad cars.  Luckily Cleora was allowed to attend Paris Gibson High School and then received her teaching certificate from Dillon Normal (teaching) College.  She eventually married into the Heagy family, who were an easier-going, fun-loving bunch.

A page from Cleora's Dillon Yearbook.  "Chinook" is, I believe, the name of the house, not the Montana town.  I bet the dorm life had some comparisons to the orphanage--minus the nuns.  I also love how identical their hair-dos are.  Just like if you were to walk down the halls of a high school today.

Little brother Ralph also escaped the abuse a little more dramatically by running away and legally changing his name to John Johnson (interestingly, the same first name as his Dad?!).  He served in the army in World War II, married, and lived to the ripe old age of 92.  Here is a copy of his obituary.  Ebert thinks Ralph/John looks a lot like John Sr.

As far as Cleora's relationship with her father, most likely it was moderated by the presence of her husband Charlie, who built a house next door to the Schlomers (734 14th St SW), where the couple remained in close proximity.  Cleora's son Ebert was unsure if Charlie first built the house and then courted Cleora or the other way around.

John, Cleora, and John's wife Josephine?

  The house that (I believe) was John's (804 14th st) was recently up for rent, described as 

Vintage home on an acre with Sun River in back! Room for horses!Room for horses and gardening. Located on the Sun River. Very private, rural living within the city limits.  Home is next door to 734 14th St SW, and backyard faces the Sun River levee. Property has river access, but no dock.  10

 John remarried, divorced, remarried the same gal, and when she was gone married one more time.  He did not live out his days in the Great Falls house, but lived in California and Oregon where he died in 1962.11

Sources:
1.  Montana Historical Society Research Center, Montana History Compass, "Montana Orphanages", ed. Barbara Pepper Rotness, last viewed June 2018, www.http://mthistory.pbworks.com/w/page/100755328/Subject%20Guides%3A%20Genealogy%20Guide%3A%20Montana%20Orphanages
2. http://www.stthomaskids.org/about/history
3.  https://www.providence.org/about/providence-archives/past-forward-newsletter/winter-2001/historical-photos-from-st-thomas-orphanage
4.   Death Certificate for Freida Bornemann Schlomer, #4516, Great Falls, Cascade, Montana, Bureau of Vital Statistics.
5.  "Maryland, Baltimore Passenger Lists, 1820-1948," database with images, FamilySearch (https://familysearch.org/ark:/61903/1:1:2CSK-X98 : 15 March 2018), Frieda Bornemann, 1906; citing Immigration, Baltimore, Baltimore, Maryland, United States, NARA microfilm publications M255, M596, and T844 (Washington, D.C.: National Archives and Records Administration, n.d.); FHL film 1,454,840. John's ship manifest has been found (as he reported on his naturalization record) but somehow his name is not on it.  It is assumed that he traveled alone since he does not appear with any family members in census or other records, and his known siblings remained in Germany
6.  Correspondence from St. Thomas archives, in possession of Jaclyn Day, SF, Utah.
7.  Mortuary invoice for Mrs. Freida Schlomer, copy in possession of Jaclyn Day, SF, Utah.  John's place of employment is listed as American Brewery Co. 
8.   "United States Census, 1920," database with images, FamilySearch (https://familysearch.org/ark:/61903/1:1:M83J-QKX : accessed 1 November 2018), John Schloma, Great Falls Ward 5, Cascade, Montana, United States; citing ED 32, sheet 12B, line 86, family 281, NARA microfilm publication T625 (Washington D.C.: National Archives and Records Administration, 1992), roll 968; FHL microfilm 1,820,968.
9.   www.smithsonianmag.com/smart-news/how-some-breweries-survived-prohibition-180962754/
10.   https://greatfalls.craigslist.org/apa/d/vintage-home-on-an-acre-with/6721679902.html
11.   "Oregon Death Index, 1903-1998," database, FamilySearch (https://familysearch.org/ark:/61903/1:1:VZH5-GBR : 11 December 2014), John Schlomer, 25 Jan 1962; from "Oregon, Death Index, 1898-2008," database and images, Ancestry (http://www.ancestry.com : 2000); citing Coos, Oregon, certificate number 152, Oregon State Archives and Records Center, Salem.

Other insights/lore obtained from interviews in 2018 with Cleora's son and daughter-in-law, Ebert and Bev Heagy of Montana. 

Let's Go Camping with the Van De Riets

Harry and Bess loved the great outdoors and were troopers about teaching their kids to do the same.  Especially Bess (was a trooper!)  She eventually had nine babies and was still game for hi-jinks like this!  So sit back and imagine yourself in the mid-1920s, Montana--the Big Sky Country.  What do you do for fun, with a passel of kids?

It's the Griswold family vacation!  LOVE the tent tied to the fender.  Wish I could hold my baby in the backseat.

Harry's mother was an amateur photographer with her own darkroom.  His brother Hi was a war photographer (cRAZY!) who took shots across enemy lines in WWI.  Harry picked up a few skills and so we have an inordinate amount of photographs of this particular family with their cute kiddos.  Of course, I always think My Grandma LaVonne is the cutest.

Not sure if this is dinner?  You can see a Dutch oven on the fire and a tent to the left.  Back before established campgrounds with picnic tables, firepits and outhouses.  (These pictures were labelled with LaVonne when she was still living, but I wonder if the baby above is actually her older brother Ray.)

A later trip, but you can see what they liked to do while they were out in the woods.  There are many fishing pictures in the collection.

LOVE this picture of Grandma Bess, wading with her little boys.  She easily could kept her skirts on and sat with the baby, but here she is cooling her feet.  What a great mom.

Of course, this was something Harry had already discovered she had a weakness for.  (Aren't they so darling?)

This photo appears to be behind a house, not camping, but I wonder if they brought the dogs, too?

They liked to go with their extended family, as well it appears.

What a great Twenties-era sundress!  Perfect for a day in the great outdoors.  I think she is leaning against the tire.  She needed a camp chair.

.

Sometimes they went to the lake.

Harry with his string of fish. Later in life, semi-retired, I think he worked as a game checker in Augusta.  Are all these fish regulation size?

Not sure where this is, but it looks like fun.

Fishing with cousins means you get a LOT of fish.  (These are Harry's sister Marie's kids, the Schnee's, sitting with Harry and Jack.)

The cousins lived close to Glacier park.  At least I think that's where this is.

Jack, Ray, Harry and LaVonne.  Loving the overalls.

Once again, this may be baby Ray, not LaVonne.

 

Ok, there's the dog.

The camping and fishing remained an important part of the Van De Riet children's lives and with their own families.

Here is LaVonne as a young mother.  Hubby Jack Haynes and sister Normie Van De Riet are behind the table.  (They have picnic tables by now.)

LaVonne with a string of fish of her own.

And LaVonne and her hubby Jack took their grandchildren fishing, and to the mountains, and to the lakes.

 

And it culminates in a campground of "our" own!  I remember this night. (I'm in the striped sleeves). This is a great place, right close to the airfield.  Maybe i will leave this post a little open ended, and add some more camping and fishing through the Van De Riet generations as I come across them, so Check Back Later for more goodies!