As I was growing up, I was greatly outnumbered. There were sisters everywhere. I was surrounded by sisters, as it were.
This is something my sisters played down in later years but the truth is my youngest sister is ten years older than I. When I was born, my youngest sister, Irene, was ten and my eldest, Grace Jean, was right close to eighteen.
I have no idea how I survived. But, since this is not about me, don’t worry about it.
Harrison, Irene, Virginia, Margaret, Mary Marjorie, Winona, and Grace Jean.
The photo is, left to right, by age, youngest to eldest. On the left is the baby brother. I’m right sure that the picture was taken in 1971, during a family reunion.
My sisters, reading from right to left. Age at the time in parenthesis: Grace Jean (50), Winona (48), Mary Marjorie (47), Margaret (45), Virginia (44) Irene (42).
By the way, I was the only one born in West Virginia. All of my sisters were born in Ohio. One more, in case you care. I was the only one born in a hospital. All of my sisters were born at home.
I was born in 1939, at the tail-end of the Great Depression. My six sisters lived through it. Those were hard times and I don’t know how Mama and Daddy did it. But they did.
The Depression
Mama and Daddy never owned a house. They didn’t own a car after the Depression struck.
My father, born in 1894, had to take full-time work, fifty-five hours a week, when he was twelve. That means he had a sixth-grade education. One of Daddy’s hot buttons was education. In the 1930s, many 16-year-old girls quit school and went to work. But not my sisters. They had to work some but not at the expense of their education. All seven of us graduated from high school and three of us have college degrees. We all own automobiles and own our homes. Not a bad record for a man with a sixth-grade education and raising a family during the Great Depression.
My sisters when they were a bit younger, circa 1940.
My Six Sisters
I am going to tell you about my sisters. I am going right to left on the reunion (first) picture. That is, eldest first. I am doing that because I used to get yelled at if I didn’t obey the pecking order.
1. Grace Jean
Grace Jean, nickname Acy, was born in 1921. She was a natural born leader. If you don’t believe me, ask her.
Grace Jean was, for years, executive secretary to the President of Marshall University. She also had the same position when Marshall was a college. Four West Virginia governors knew her by name and everybody at Marshall knew her.
As we were growing up, we had what one might call a full house. For that reason, when I was very young, Grace Jean started living with our aunt and uncle. Because of that, I really never really got to know her until I was older. Truth is, we all got along but Grace Jean seemed to be a bit different from the rest.
Grace Jean still had the family sense of humor. She referred to my second-eldest sister as her eldest sister. And that was the truth
Grace Jean married Howard Haeberle in 1952 and they had one son, Steven.
Grace Jean and my sister Winona were the only two siblings who remained in Huntington.
2. Winona Clara
Winona, nickname Nonie, was born in 1923. Ditto natural born leader.
Winona was a real pistol. No other words for it. If you want somebody to talk back to a dragon, call Winona.
Winona was also the brick of the family. As the years passed, Winona was the one who got things done.
Winona and I became very close friends as I grew older.
When Mama was ill, it was Winona who bore the major burden.
When Daddy was ill, it was Winona who bore the major burden.
A note about Daddy’s illness. On Thanksgiving Day, 1967, I received a phone call from Winona. Winona had taken the family pressure for quite a few years and, this time, she needed my help. She told me that she just couldn’t take Daddy to the hospital for the last time. The next day, I flew from Poughkeepsie to Huntington and did what I had to do. Daddy died the following January, 13 months after Mama died.
After Mama and Daddy died, it was Winona who organized family reunions. And that wasn’t real easy because I lived in North Carolina and my other four sisters lived in Florida, Texas, and Ohio.
Winona married James Burns in 1949. They had no children.
Winona was one of my two sisters who remained in Huntington.
3. Mary Marjorie
Mary Marjorie, nicknames MM, Em, and Emmy, was born in 1924. Ditto natural born leader.
Mary Marjorie was probably the smartest of the bunch, including myself. She was the first to graduate from college, in the late 1940s.
During World War II, Mary Marjorie enlisted in the WAVES. If you don’t know, the WAVES were the female branch of the U.S. Navy. Things were different then.
We always had a lot of books around the house, many more than the average low-income family. I am confident that Mary Marjorie had a hand in that.
Because of my sisters and all of the books, I could read when I was five.
Mary Marjorie was a high school English teacher. She had a trick to grab the attention of her students on the first day of class. The trick was something she could do, and I have never met anybody else who could do it.
My sister would take a piece of chalk in both hands. Simultaneously, she would write her name normally with her right hand and write her name backwards with her left hand. The students saw, “Mrs. Circle Mrs. Circle.” Can you do that?
Mary Marjorie married Drake Circle in 1957 and they had one son, Kenneth.
4. Margaret Frances
Margaret, nickname Marg, was born in 1926. Not being a member of the “select three,” Margaret was not a natural born leader. It had nothing to do with Margaret, it’s just that leaders have to put their foot (feet?) down. This leader business had to stop. I mean, there can be only so many leaders.
I was told that Margaret did not speak a word until she was six years old. But, believe me, she made up for it. I don’t think she stopped talking after she was six. And with volume. She was a cheer leader in high school and the only one who didn’t need a megaphone.
One summer during World War II, Margaret had a summer job in Washington, D.C., as did a few of my sisters. Well, she went to a Washington Senators baseball game. They wanted a cheer leader. Margaret volunteered. No megaphone.
Margaret was great at “monster” stuff. When I was a little guy, Margaret and I would be on our front porch and she would become a monster. I would run off the porch screaming, “Stop! I’m scared!” Then once in the front yard, I would say, “Do it again, Marg.” Things such as that are wonderful memories.
Margaret married Jack Brooks in 1946. Jack had recently returned from World War II, and they met and eloped. They had one daughter, Dicki Lee.
5. Virginia
Virginia, nickname Ginny, was born in 1927. Ditto not a natural born leader.
Note here that I did not show Virginia’s middle name. She had one. It was a family name and Virginia hated it. For that reason, I chose not to mention it.
Virginia was one of the quieter ones. But she giggled. Virginia giggled when she was seventy.
Virginia was my only sister who never smoked cigarettes and who never consumed alcohol. But a lot of people thought she drank. That’s because she was a lot of fun. Telling jokes and having a good time. The life of the party. In other words, Virginia wasn’t a prude, she just chose to neither smoke nor drink.
Virginia and her husband moved to Florida in 1953. Because of the distance, I can’t explain it but Virginia and I were always very close.
I really liked Johnny, Virginia’s husband. Johnny lived two houses down from us on 21st Street. A little story here. When Johnny was seventeen, he told Daddy that he wanted to marry Virginia. Daddy responded, “Come back when you are a man.” Johnny enlisted in the Navy and fought in the Pacific for the remaining two years of World War II. When Johnny returned from war at the age of nineteen, he approached Daddy and said, “Am I a man now?” Daddy smiled and said, “Yes.”
Virginia married John Irby in 1947 and they had two daughters, Cinda and Sallie.
One last giggle from Virginia. Virginia’s married name was Virginia Ingles Irby. Henceforth, she referred to herself as “Old Number VII.”
6. Irene Izabelle
Irene, nicknamed Iz or Izzy, was born in 1929. Ditto not a natural born leader.
A point on Irene’s name. My father had a rather good sense of humor. After Irene was born, Daddy told Mama that if he couldn’t have a boy, he would have a “three-eyed Ingles”, Irene Izabelle Ingles.
Irene was ten years older than I but, when I was young, she always found time to do things with me and play with me.
Irene was always kind and good natured.
Irene and I were always very close.
During the Korean Conflict, Irene enlisted in the WAFS, the Women’s Air Force.
Irene was the second to graduate from college and she became an English teacher.
Irene was my only sister who was divorced. She and her husband stayed together until their daughter, Susan, was eighteen.
After a few years, Irene married Malcolm Peterson, a man she had dated while in high school.
Memories
It’s getting to be a long time ago but I have memories.
Times were sometimes hard and life isn’t all roses. As Daddy used to say to me, “Son, the road is rough and rocky.”
But the things I remember most are the wonderful and delightful memories.
I can never forget my sisters and all they did for me.
Mama and Daddy couldn’t afford much but Christmas was always pretty good. My sisters always helped. When I was eight, an Erector Set and a Lionel Train. When I was ten, a Shelby bicycle.
When I was young, fifty cents or a dollar. That was a lot of money in 1950.
When I could drive, the lending of a car.
After I was married, more help than I can ever tell. Carolyn and I were flat broke when we married. I don’t know what would have happened had it not been for Winona and Jim. You know, pick us up on Friday evening and take us to their home. Have steaks and a few drinks on Friday and Saturday. That type of thing is always a bit of fun. But for a young couple with little money, it was a life saver.
Almost Over
As we all know, things change.
All six of my sisters have died. Winona was the first, in 2000 and Virginia was the last, in 2016.
All of my brothers-in-law have died.
My wife, Carolyn, was diagnosed with leukemia in 2016 and died in 2017.
I am the last man standing and it is a strange feeling.
But it’s like this, even with a few hard times, life has been good to both myself and my sisters.
And it all started with a man having a sixth-grade education and a farm girl from the hills of Virginia.
If You Are Interested, Some Old Photos
My Grandmother Ingles, born in 1861 and died in 1931, and my two eldest sisters, Grace Jean and Winona. Winona was born in early 1923 so, because of her size in the photo, this picture had to have been taken in late 1923 or early 1924.
Winona and Grace Jean. Looking at their sizes, my guess is late 1924. If you take a close look at Winona’s face, you just may get the impression that she has always been a bit ornery.
All six plus Jerry, the guy I enlisted with, and his mother. Looking at Jerry, it has to be about 1952.
Five out of six of my sisters here. Virginia is missing. In the front row: Yours truly, Mama and Daddy. I couldn’t have been much older than twelve, which would make it somewhere around 1951.
All six, two brothers-in-law, my niece, and little old me. I remember that jacket. I bought it in the spring of 1954 after I got a job delivering on a bicycle for a drug store. It has to be 1954.
Five of six, Grace Jean missing. The hidden one is Virginia. Winona is the one putting down her beer and taking a quick drag on her smoke. I think that Irene is holding on to my shoulder. With six sisters, many times I played left out. The early 1950s.
Four of six, Mama, and my niece, Dicki Lee. The dog I don’t remember. Probably Winona’s. Early 1950s. Irene smoking, which wasn’t considered a crime in 1950.
Mary Marjorie and Irene on a bicycle. It looks like my old Shelby bicycle. Given the bicycle and the house in the background, looks to be 1949.
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