Margaret Oleta Estes 1928-

I was born at home in LeFlore County, Wister, Oklahoma on September 30, 1928. It was a Sunday morning (according to the family Bible) at 10:00 a.m. Mother told me she wanted to have me before Sunday School was dismissed because she didn’t want the children hear her scream. Dr. Shippey helped Mother deliver me. Since I didn’t get my original birth certificate I don’t know how much I weighed. According to Mother I was quite small.

From what I have heard, Daddy was the person that named me. He wanted to name me Marguerite; I have no idea where he got the name. Oleta, my middle name, means “little Ola” I’m told, in some language. Consequently, Margaret Oleta Estes was what I answered to for nineteen years.

There were seven children born to Ernest Emory and Ola Bell Boyd Estes. Five boys and two girls. Ernest Edward was born in Paris, Texas, Lamar county on June 29, 1924, Betty Jo Estes also was born in Paris, Texas on May 9, 1926. I was born next being the third child and second daughter. James Thomas Estes was born August 28, 1930 in Paris, Texas; Leo Ray Estes was born December 17, 1935 in Paris, Texas. Billy Sam Estes, also was born in Paris, Texas on October 11, 1938 and finally Hardy Wayne Estes was born September 17, 1943 at a hospital in Paris, Texas, Lamar County.

Since there was four children with ages only two years apart, my recollection growing up was uneventful. We just played, ate, slept, laughed, cried and fought as all children do.

In Texas there is no kindergarten so I must have been special because Mother enrolled me in school one year before I was old enough. The school that I attended was West Paris Grammar School. It had seven grades, one through seven. We went directly from West Paris Grammar School to Paris High School. What a change! The High School was downtown and much farther from home. After all it seemed that we walked 50 miles uphill in rain and snow in winter to get to school. Now we had a lot farther to go.

When I was in second grade I was on my way to the basement where the bathrooms were. I was smart enough to figure if I slid on the bannister I could get to the basement faster, so I did. Miss Myrtle, a fourth grade teacher, happened to see me and wow! on her own decided I was breaking the rules. She hauled me up to the principal’s office and I received my first spanking from the principal. Humiliation 101 wasn’t enough. James didn’t let his shirttail touch him until he got home and told Mother. “Margaret got a spanking from the principal.” Nothing to do but I got another spanking from Mother. Boy, if looks could kill, James Thomas would be pushing up daisies in Texas. If I ever went sliding down a bannister again, I made SURE there was no teacher around.

Being from a large family, we all had chores. Mine was the most important. I had a very glamourous job - emptying the "slop jar" or "chamber". I usually put off my job as long as possible. Sometimes it started getting dark before I got around to it. Junior usually was slinking around as I was doing my job, as soon as I opened the door to run as fast as I could to dump the chamber he would jump out and scream or just touch me. Each time this happened, I swore I would do my job as soon as breakfast was over, but I never did. There was no remuneration for chores done for the family. However, we did receive food, a roof over our heads, clothes on our backs, etc., all of the necessities were worth more than money could buy. A good thing because there was no money.

Mother sewed most of my clothes, dresses and bloomers. We did have to buy shoes and socks or stockings. In the wintertime in Texas we would have to wear long underwear and the ugliest brown stockings to cover up the underwear. Mother would buy 100 pounds of flour in printed sacks. The sacks were different - printed in flowers, animals, birds, etc. Sometimes it was practically impossible to get enough of the same print. I was fortunate being a small girl so it didn’t take too much material to make my clothes.

The house on Oak Grove in Paris, Texas was the only house I remember living in until we moved to California. It was built high off of the ground so we could crawl underneath it in the summer when the temperatures went sky high. Remember, we had no air conditioning. We had a wood stove (a pot belly) in the front room and a large wood stove for cooking in the kitchen. Most of my childhood was spent in this house that consisted of a front room (living room) with a bed, a large kitchen that was used constantly for eating, doing school homework and everyday variety visiting, etc. This room had a table that would sit at least ten. It had a bench on each side and chairs at the head and foot. There was a side room off of the kitchen that had beds in it. This side room had only one door that went into the kitchen. We had a front porch and a back porch. The back porch had a shelf that held a bucket and dipper, also a wash pan, soap and a towel that hung on a nail.

We had one tree that grew toward the back of the house. It was a cherry tree - I do not recall ever having a cherry from that tree. I have heard there were two or three cherries that grew to fruitation but I guess I was too low on the totem pole for them.

Directly in back of the house, we had a vegetable garden. Behind the garden was a large barn and two sheds or maybe they would be called stalls now. This was where the cows were milked. The barn was where feed was stored. Beside the garden there was a path about the width of a road - at the end of this path there was a long walk to the toilet.

The garden was fenced on the left side next to the path. In addition to the garden there was a large black iron pot in the backyard. This pot was used to boil clothes on wash day and also for making lye soap about once a year.

Water was always a problem. We had a cistern we used for drinking water, cooking, washing clothes and baths. We used a bucket on a pulley that drew the water from the cistern. Once a year when the cistern was low on water, it was cleaned out. It’s amazing how much mud and silt settled in the bottom. It was like a game to hold onto the rope and be lowered into the cistern, with a bucket and a scoop to scrape the mud, put it in the bucket and have it hauled up and emptied.

In 1938 when Betty Jo was twelve she contracted typhoid fever. According to the doctor she got this from the water. She was the only one that got it. I might be naive, but I thought we all drank the same water. By the time we had to take shots, to keep from getting the fever, I wanted to drink some of Betty’s water. The last shot (there was a series of three, one each Friday) I fainted because in 1938 there were no throw-away needles. After the doctor gave the shots the needles were sterilized in boiling water. When it was my turn for my shot the doctor picked a bent needle and it must have gone into my arm crooked. I still get queasy when I have a needle stuck in me. However, as a reward we were given the bottles the serum came in. A REAL GIFT.

Betty Jo finally got over the fever. Her fever was so high that her pretty curly hair came out and she was bald in spots. Then her hair grew back in as curly as could be. It was impossible to tell which end it grew from. When Betty was sick she must have studied long and hard how to be devious because as we were doing dishes, she told me if I would do them she would give me a curl. WOW! I was in heaven. I would get a curl. True to her word she took the scissors and snipped of a curl and handed it to me. Talk about stupid. I couldn’t wear the curl. There was no way I could graft her hair to mine. I just had a pretty curl of hair.

While still in grammar school, we had a contest before Halloween to select a queen and her court. One penny for one vote, or five coat hangers for one vote. Anyway, Betty Jo was chosen to be Queen and I was a princess. Mother bought some green and pink organdy material and made two formal (long) dresses. Betty’s was green and mine was pink. She got some silver paint and painted our shoes. Boy, were we hot stuff. Junior and his most informed knowledge said "green was for the queen and pink was for the one that stinks." How did he know? He was always so kind and thoughtful and hasn’t changed.

In the summertime in Texas it was hot. After supper we would sit on the front porch before it got dark. This particular day James got either raisins or beans and proceeded to fill up holes in his head - meaning ears, nose, etc. What happens when moisture and beans or raisins meet? Right, they swell. Mother saw him turning purple and turned him upside down and started beating him on the back, to no avail. She pulled a hair pin out of her hair and proceeded to pick these beans or raisins one by one out of his nose. She must have gotten all of them because James started to breathe normally and got his natural color back. He is still breathing as of this writing.

James Thomas was a cute curly haired boy. Once when the prudential Insurance man came to collect 25 cents a month for an insurance policy, James was sitting on a post in the front yard. Only he was naked as a jay bird. As the man looked up and saw him, he thought James was a statue of a pretty boy on an old post in our yard - then James moved. This was an insurance man that got his collection taken care of very fast and "got out of Dodge".

Since we had no electricity, we had no radio. Our neighbors had a battery radio and we usually could hear Stella Dallas and other soap operas of the times because I’m sure louder was better. Daddy bought the Sunday paper and after all of the church services and chores were taken care of, we would gather around his chair. He would open the paper to the "funnies", proceeding to squeal with Olive Oyl’s "Oh Popeye, you’re so stro-ong". Then the Katzenjammer Kids, Maggie and Jiggs, Li’l Abner, Gasoline Alley and Blondie. Each character was read with a different voice as he read every page of funnies or comic strips. Looking back on this family time, I’m sure in today’s language it would be called quality-time.

Even though we had a small house it was constantly filled with family or friends. If we didn’t have visitors we had one or two people live with us. In summer there wasn’t a problem with sleeping arrangements. We would throw a quilt or sheet on the floor for a pallet and sleep away. One night I woke up with a buzzing in my ear. No matter which side I turned it continued. I stood it as long as I could and finally woke mother up and told her. She asked a few questions and turned my head this way and that (just like doctors do). First she brought the lamp over but couldn’t get close enough so she got a flashlight and shined it into my ear. After an hour it seemed, but probably a minute, out crawled an ant. The lamp was blown out, the flashlight put away and Margaret went back to her pallet and went back to sleep. Youth! There’s nothing like it. Also having a mother as a substitute doctor helps.

When we took trips they were never called vacations. In fact, I never heard the word vacation. Mother’s parents, Mike and Bettie Boyd, lived in Oklahoma and this is where we took our trips. Mother gathered all of us kids plus a family friend, Goldie Dingman and her two daughters Joyce and Dorothy. Uncle Jim, Mother’s younger brother was living with us at the time, so Mother thought, since Jim was a teenager, he would be helpful with the kids. Also with driving the car. We were packed like sardines in the car but on our way. We got as far as the Winding Stair Mountain in Oklahoma when the car decided to stop. We had it made with a zillion kids to push and Jim to help this should be a cinch - wrong! Jim was so embarrassed to be seen with all of these kids, a broken down car and two matronly ladies, he considered committing Hari-Kari. To sooth his nerves Mother had him get behind the wheel, in the driver’s seat to steer so the car stayed on the road. He did great until another car passed, then he would duck down so people wouldn’t see him and of course he couldn’t see anything. Lots of help he was! We thought it was great, we waded in a stream that ran beside the road, climbed on rocks and drank ice cold water that had trickled down from melted snow off the mountain.

We usually played games that we made, such as Tom Walkers. We would get an empty can, put nail holes in the top so we could pull a wire thru from underneath. We would then slip our feet through the wire or rope and step on the can and walk around holding onto the wire. We were only a few inches off the ground, depending on how big the can was. We played "stick" ball with a stick and a bashed up tin can. We would squeeze inside of old tires, have someone push us down a hill or just push us until the tire stopped. We got hoops from barrels that were falling apart, then smashed an old pie plate that had been discarded or a tin can, smashing it from the middle, nailed it on a piece of wood about 24-36 inches. We would then roll the hoop with the smashed tin can. We made stilts with pieces of discarded wood and walked around until they broke. We played marbles, ball and jacks using rocks or buttons for jacks only if we could find a ball. It didn’t have to be small, a tennis ball would do.

When it was too cold or too wet to play outside, we played "I spy" where we would spy an object and someone had to guess what it was with very few clues. We played “gossip”. This game was usually played at parties. A circle was formed and the first person would whisper some "gossip" to the next person, only once. This continued around and the last person repeated what they heard that was gossip. It never was even close to what the first person said.

As I explained our house was built off of the ground so when it was hot, and in Texas it gets hot, we would take our games under the house. We would make play rooms, each room had dirt for walls or rocks laid out to separate rooms. We cut paper dolls out of catalogs or any kind of magazines or even advertisements of a paper. We were not picky.

World War II changed everyone’s lives. The Esteses that hadn’t really done anything out of the ordinary or were not world travelers, suddenly began hearing about places like Pearl Harbor and Japan. We had lived all of our lives where there was black people and white people. Yes, Mother had a few friends in Oklahoma that were Indian. In Paris, there was a Mexican family that moved not too far from our neighborhood. That was different. We looked and listened to them as if they were a circus side show. We saw a Filipino man selling and demonstrating a yo-yo. That was the extent of our knowledge of the outside world. After all, wasn’t Texas big enough?

The war really hit home and our family when Junior was drafted into the service. He had someone else to pick on and fight with beside his sisters and brothers. It seemed like everything happened very fast. It probably didn’t. Daddy, Uncle Joe and a neighbor, Herman McNabb took off for California to find their fortune on maybe work. Daddy being a railroad man got a job with the Southern Pacific Railroad.

The family moved to California in June, 1944 after Betty Jo graduated from Paris High School. We moved on the train. All I can remember about the train ride was there were lots of servicemen. I don’t know how much furniture we moved. I do know Mother had her treadle sewing machine and the cedar chest that Daddy gave her for a wedding present. I’m sure there were more items, but at the time I wasn’t interested.

Guadalupe, California was the melting pot of every nationality in the world. This was to be home for me for the next four years. We arrived (I think) at night. Daddy met us, of course he was working at the depot when we arrived. He took time off to settle us in a one room box car that had been set along the tracks. We didn’t realize just how small a boxcar was, until eight people were living in it. I will say the boys slept outside most of the time. Remember it was June so no rain.

We didn’t stay in the boxcar for too long. Daddy moved us into a four room Southern Pacific house. We had a large front yard facing the railroad tracks and good sized backyard which included an outside toilet - again. The only thing different from Texas -we had electricity and running water. Mother didn’t have to do laundry all day. She would load the dirty clothes in a wagon, that the boys played with and took the clothes to a Laundromat. I think that’s what happened, I was not allowed to help. I just got clothes dirty.

School started in September and I fit in real well. We rode the school bus to Santa Maria. Being the new girl in school was a plus. Prof. Wilson immediately welcomed me, saying he was from Texas too. From what I learned later, it had been a long, long time ago. Also the football team wanted to "get acquainted". I was given the “rush” but it didn’t last long. California was a lot different than Texas in many ways. In Texas we were taught Texas. In California we were taught world.

In Guadalupe I belonged to the Girl Scouts. The Maryknoll sisters were our scout leaders and very good role models. We had a movie theater, a bowling alley and a recreation club where there was dancing, which was right down my alley. Sometimes when we bowled, there wasn’t enough pin setters, so would trade off setting pins. There was competition but all in fun. Guadalupians stuck together in school and were better athletes than Santa Marians.

I graduated from Santa Maria Joint Union High School in June 1946, with honors. The Rotary Club from Guadalupe gave me a $500 scholarship. I had arrived! It was a great honor which I informed anyone that would listen to me. Why didn’t everyone fall on their knees for me? I thought they should. It never occurred to me that my family couldn’t afford to send me to college.

After graduation, Mother and the boys and myself went to Texas on a mission - to have our tonsils removed. After the surgery and the few days in the hospital I went to a girlfriend’s house to recover. My brothers went with Mother. When we re-connected the boys were able to eat fried chicken and I was still eating soft stuff like ice cream. What a bummer.

Back to California! I got a job at Cal Veg, a vegetable packing plant in Guadalupe. It was a job so beneath a graduate with honors. I didn’t realize how much fun and educational this summer job was going to be. It not only was a paying job but it meant I could go to Santa Maria Junior College. In September 1946 I started as a freshman.

I really enjoyed my two years at Santa Maria Junior College. I was accepted into the drama club, Delta Psi Omega. Not only was I in many stage plays but I met my husband, Jim Garrett. He was also a big man on campus. He was president of the student body, while I was president of the Associated Women Students and cheerleader. After our engagement was announced, Ethel Pope, Dean of Women and our drama coach and teacher, got the whole student body together for a wedding shower. A surprise wedding shower. I should have realized something was up when Miss Pope insisted that I dry my hair, after a dip in the Paul Nelson pool during my gym class. Sometimes I’m a little slow - just sometimes. Being a thespian helped pull it off.

Jim Garrett became my husband on June 6, 1948, two days after graduation. Miss Pope and most of the students from college and teachers were in attendance. We were married in the Druids Hall where the Guadalupe Community Church was holding services. I remember Daddy being so nervous he whistled (under his breath) the wedding march to keep in step. It was a small wedding with only a maid of honor, Helen Foss, a fellow thespian. A best man, Bob Bongard also a thespian and fellow classmate.

Our honeymoon was short. We drove our model A to Santa Cruz, and went sight seeing in Monterey. We crammed as much as possible in the few days and the small amount of money we had. Jim was starting a new job when we returned to Santa Maria.

The first place we could afford to rent was in Orcutt. Over a hardware store. It was small but we didn’t need much room. We did need a cook. I never planned on being domesticated and poor Jim could only make peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. My first try at breakfast was a disaster. I could fry bacon, which I did. I could fry eggs, which I did. I kind of went overboard making gravy. We could have stored it and had it for months. Now I had never made biscuits in my life, but Mother did. I did too. They were so hard we could have used them for hockey pucks.

Dinner was a cinch. Beans. When I was growing up in a large family, I was instructed to pick out three cups of beans. After the rocks and old beans were discarded and washed, I put them in a pot with water to cover and let them set overnight. Holy Moly, the beans grew! I started putting beans in every pot we had and I thought I had to cook them all, which I did. I have always liked beans but they were not on my list for a while. I kind of wished I had followed Mother around the kitchen to learn to cook. Instead, I started reading cook books. Now if I do say so I am a pretty good cook.

On June 13, 1949 we were blessed with a baby daughter. We named her Patricia Jean. When Patsy was old enough to talk, Jim’s stepmother, Babe, taught her to tell people - no matter who - "my mom and dad were married June 6th and I was born June 13th." Never mind, born a year later.

Terry Lee was born December 29, 1952. We had moved into a brand new house at 305 Scott Drive, Santa Maria. Jim’s dad had passed away and his stepmother had given us a down payment from his dad’s insurance money. We moved on December 19, 1952. It was a muddy rainy day. No lawn was in so we had a muddy front yard. There was no drapes, we lived in a fish bowl until we could afford something on the windows looking out at the street. Bringing a new baby home on December 31, to a fish bowl, was not a fun thing to think about. I was very unhappy with Jim anyway. As soon as Jim found out that we had a boy, instead of telling me how thrilled he was, he went to the Santa Maria Times, where he worked, and wrote a story about Terry’s birth.

As a mother of two children in the '50's was hectic. There was never enough money so I went to work at Sears Roebuck in the catalog department. I also was involved in PTA, Scouts (both boys and girls), Bluebirds and Little League.

In 1960 I took my Grandpa Boyd back to Texas. Hardy Wayne, my youngest brother, had just gotten his driver’s license so mother said he could help drive. We put a mattress in the back of our new station wagon and loaded with luggage and snacks we, my two children, Grandpa Boyd and Hardy Wayne (my teenage brother) took off for Texas.

We were in New Mexico having breakfast and the waitress was fussing over Grandpa, getting an extra saucer so he could pour his coffee in it to cool it faster. After eating and pit stops, I was at the cash register paying the bill. I noticed Grandpa lagging back but thought nothing about it until Patsy and Terry came up to me and said Grandpa was taking money from the table. I went back into the restaurant and sure enough Mike Boyd was collecting the tips. I asked why he was taking the money I had left for the waitress, he informed me that the "girl got wages that she worked for". We kept a sharp eye on Grandpa for the rest of our trip.

We visited Dorothy (Dingman) Wilhoit in Lubbock, Texas. We also spent some time with my brother, Leo and wife Janet in McAllister, Oklahoma. Patsy and I traveled to Arkansas to visit two very dear friends, that were sisters of a neighbor that lived at that time across from us on Scott Drive, Lorena Farnum. Lorena has moved back to Arkansas and lives in a little town called Truman. I take a trip (by plane) to visit her as often as I can.

After returning from our trip, the bottom dropped out of my marriage. Jim left me and our two children with a woman that worked at the paper with him and her three children. Patsy was devastated. She couldn’t understand why her dad would or could leave her. Terry at that time seemed to swing with the punches. Patsy was nearly thirteen and Terry was eight and a half. I too was surprised. Jim had told me that he had an offer to work for the L.A. Times. He had been a stringer for them for years and it was quite a coup. I found a note from him after he had left that there was no job but he and this woman were leaving together and had no destination, he would let me know. It lasted until they got to Las Vegas and she found out the house wasn’t paid for, neither the furniture, carpets or the car he was driving. It was a blow to him when she left him.

I was working for the State of California at the Office of Employment. I had a wonderful boss named Don Cook. When I explained that my husband had abandoned me, Don was very supportive. Don even offered to help Terry with the yard work. He took the three of us out to dinner often. He was always there, helping, giving me extra time off.

I was scheduled to give a test on a Saturday for some clients at the office. On Friday, Don asked me out to dinner, so he could explain what I was supposed to do. This was a working dinner but ended with a proposal. I don’t know who was surprised the most. I didn’t take him serious until it was repeated weeks later.

The first week of July 1961, Patsy, Terry, Don and I headed for Reno, Nevada. I had decided to get a divorce. Jim was calling collect while I was working and Patsy would do anything to talk to him. Jim’s girlfriend had left him in Las Vegas. He had gotten a job in Arizona but it was too hot and he wanted to come home. He didn’t have enough money to eat a decent meal, etc. I had gone to a lawyer in Santa Maria. He suggested that since the only thing I had any equity in was the house, I should get Jim to sign a quick claim deed giving me and the kids the house. I would be liable for the payments.

After finding out Jim was on his way back to Santa Maria, I quit my job and headed for Reno, Nevada. A friend had given me three attorneys’s names in Reno and it was eeny-meeny-miny-moe pickings. Don found an apartment in Sparks, Nevada not too far from Reno - a smaller community. He helped get it set up for living in, for six weeks. He then took the bus back to Santa Maria, a very long hot ride. Isn’t love wonderful?

While living in Sparks, Mother and Daddy stopped by on their way to Alaska. I’m sure it was a checking-up visit. Mother’s brother Joe Boyd lived in Grass Valley and came over for a day. He asked us to come to see him; I was supposed to spend six weeks in Nevada. Joe said there was no way anyone would know, so we spent a day and night with him by a stream, like a picnic or camping out. The kids loved it. In fact, getting a divorce was a vacation. I didn’t have to go to work, we went to the swimming pool, movies, sunbathed - all kinds of fun stuff. It was hot so most things were done in either early evening or in the shade.

I only went into Reno to see my lawyer. He had been in contact with Jim and said if I would pay for a proxy for a lawyer for Jim, I could have my divorce.

Making friends has never been a problem for me. My landlord said she would be happy to stipulate that I had been in Nevada for six weeks so I was home safe.

A woman that lived in the apartment complex asked me to attend her wedding. Well, low and behold the minister was an ex-pastor from our church in Guadalupe. He and his wife lived in Sparks. They invited us over for dinner. We renewed acquaintances and visited way into the night. I asked Ralph Carlton if he would marry Don and me. I also asked his wife Jackie if she would stand up for me. They both said yes. Now all I needed to do was get a wedding dress. I drove all over Sparks and Reno and finally found a size 3 that fit - in pink. I had shoes dyed to match. Also a band, with a veil that was the same color as my dress.

Don and I were married in Reno, Nevada August 16, 1961. We honeymooned at Lake Tahoe. After a few days, we drove down 395 until we ended up in Manhatten Beach at Don’s parent’s house. They were on vacation so we had the place to ourselves.

We returned home to Santa Maria and work. Knowing someone in the employment office gave me a one-up. I got a job with Twitchell & Twitchell attorneys at law.

The employees at the California Department of Employment thought it would be great to give their boss (Don) and his new wife (me) a surprise wedding shower - at our house. The whole office brought decorations, food and gifts. We are still using the TV trays and the love birds have always had a special place on our mantel over the fireplace. We have kept in contact, if not always close, with the office group.

October 28, 1962 brought an addition to the Cook family. A baby girl, Charlene Jo Cook, which I named after her dad and my sister, Donald Charles and Betty Jo. Another round of showers were given and Don made a swinging cradle, which will be a family heirloom one day. Charlene has already used it for her daughter, so has Patsy with all three daughters.

Being a new mom, again, was great. I didn’t have to get up too early to drive to a job. My job was right here in our house. I could cook, clean, wash, iron and watch T.V. I was watching T.V. soaps, when the channel announcer cut in to announce that the president, John F. Kennedy had been shot. They never did get back to my soap opera that day.

Wallace Estes Cook was born on Auguast 5, 1965 at Valley Community Hospital. He was the only one of my babies that Mother didn’t help get their first few days going. Mother had a cold so Jeanette, Betty Jo’s daughter came over and was a tremendous help.

In March 1966 we moved to San Diego. Having never lived anywhere except Santa Maria since I had married, I did not know what to expect. It was different. I made new friends and continued with cooking, cleaning, etc. I never really got the hang of it though.

By September of 1966 we moved into our new two-story home at 4946 Pola Court in the community of Clairemont in San Diego. Patsy was miserable, therefore made me miserable. She wanted to go back to Santa Maria. She got sick the first week of our move to San Diego, fainting in Typing class - what a mess. Terry got lost, after missing the bus, and wandered until nearly dark. What a mess.

We finally got the hang of living in San Diego. Patsy was going to Clairemont High School. Terry was enrolled in Marston Junior High. New schools, new friends, new neighbors, new home.

By the time Patsy graduated from high school, Charlene was ready for Kindergarten. Now my work began. First PTA at Longfellow Elementary School, also at Marston Junior High and Clairemont High School. My PTA membership paid off because I was given the Lifetime Service Award a few years later.

I was active not only in PTA at Longfellow but was a tutor in math so students would pass their tests to go to the next grade and Junior high. Being Ways & Means Chairman, I was in charge of a carnival at Halloween time. Later in the year I was in charge of a Longfellow Cook book. We made lots of money that year. Maybe I bought my lifetime award?

I was a Brownie leader for Charlene, Trailblazer co-leader, which was sponsored by the YMCA. In junior high and high school Charlene joined Job’s Daughters, that is sponsored by the Masonic Lodge and of course being her mother I was involved.

Wally was in Cub Scouts and Webeloes. Little League was his love and I was scorekeeper. In San Diego or Clairmont there was a backyard swim program. People with pools in their backyards donated them so the children could learn to swim. Even though I can’t swim, I did teach children how. "Do as I say, not as I do." In addition to helping at school, I attended the Pioneer United Church of Christ. One day a week the church sponsored a social get-together for the youth. They had crafts, games and snacks. Again I volunteered to help with crafts. Ann Smith, the lady in charge appreciated my help.

In my lifetime there has been airplanes that could fly faster than sound. The Concorde, a passenger plane, can fly from New York to London in about three hours. Men have landed on the moon. Men have lived in space stations for more than six months. Instead of going out to movies, we can see them in our own homes. Telephones can be dialed with pushing only one button. Messages can be left on answering machines and can be answered at your will. Computers can send e-mail or faxes to be read across the world in minutes.

In 1974 I was asked to work part-time in a Sunbeam bread thrift store. The store was about a mile and half from our home. My part time job ended being a job for Webber’s Bread in Otay Mesa, Chula Vista and Dollie Madison in Kearney Mesa, lasting more than ten years.

Don retired from California Department of Employment in 1983. San Diego was beginning to be a metropolis so in 1987 we moved back to Santa Maria. We moved in March and I had promised Hannah Winter, a very close friend, I would go to Germany with her to visit her mom and four sisters. I met her in Los Angeles in June and we flew to Frankfurt, Germany. I spent two weeks on the go. Seeing sights, visiting Hannah’s relatives and eating our way up the Rhine River. The hills were so pretty and green. The flowers were well taken care of. Nearly every house had window boxes with colorful flowers.

While I was off seeing foreign lands our house was being built. We moved in on July 31, 1987 to our present home at 4424 Boardwalk Lane.

I attend the Guadalupe Community Church in Guadalupe, California. This was the church that was built with lots of Mother and Daddy’s sweat, tears, hard work and money. I am a member of the church board. I also am a head docent for the Santa Maria Historical Museum. When I can’t get docents to give tours, I end up doing them.

I volunteered to assist with craft activities at Marian Extended Care twice a week. I had to give that up in 1998. On July 28, 1998, I had a stroke. Though it was minor, my lifestyle was immediately curtailed.

I have taken needlecraft classes, taught crafts, helped with Vacation Bible School in San Diego and Guadalupe. I was on the committee for my 50th Santa Maria High School class of 1946 reunion. It required lots of time and work but was fun and gratifying.

I’ve enjoyed traveling before retiring and since. I would like to do more but right now I don’t feel is the time. I have taken a few trips with the Santa Maria Senior Citizens Travel Club. Betty Jo is an escort.

In addition to the four children I have six granddaughters. Patsy was married to Rick Page on September 22, 1968. Amy Jean Page was born to her on May 24, 1976. Jamie Corrinne Page and her twin Joy Collette were born in San Diego on July 16, 1979.

Amy married Josh Olsen in Big Fork, Montana on May 31, 1997. Now I have a grandson.

Charlene was married to Frank Wheeler on June 26, 1982 in Santa Barbara, California. They adopted Sandi Katrina, who was born May 1, 1984. Charlene married Raymond Mendoza March 21, 1990 and they became parents to Adriana Bianca on March 7, 1989.

When Terry moved to Bellingham, Washington he met a friend that wanted to have a baby. Tarah Vuarnet Garrett was born to Christie Trudell and Terry Garrett on October 20, 1988. It was a unique birth. Tarah was born at home in a hot tub. It was planned with a mid-wife in attendance.

My life, so far, has been very full and fulfilling - my family has also been my life. The Ernest and Ola Estes family have not become billionaires, that I’m aware of, but in some ways we are millionaires. We have been lucky or fortunate, that all of the children of Ola and Ernest Estes grew to adulthood, with families of their own. Some of them have gone to college. All of them graduated from high school (Junior had a little help and lots of push).

With in-laws included, we have doctors, lawyers, Indian but I’m not sure of Chief. We do have executive, peons, students, hustlers, gamblers, prisoners, preachers, clerks, teachers, law enforcers, bartenders, waitresses, car salesman, security guard, electrician, nurse, escort or tour guide, piano teacher, etc. If there is a job that’s done or needs to be done, except being a politician, there’s a relative of the Esteses doing it. As the old saying "where there’s a will, there’s a way".

[Contributed by Leo R. Estes 1 Oct 2000 12:00am; last modified by John W. Wilbanks 13 Dec 2000 6:01pm]