I decided to make marmalade. As I was slicing the oranges and lemons, I thought about Dick. (I'll explain the connection eventually.)

It was 1946 and Dick was freshly out of the service. He'd entered the Marines shortly after December 7th, 1942, while still a senior in high school. At seventeen he needed to get his parents permission and the approval of high school to get an early diploma. He did both tasks.

He was smart, ambitious, and had a wicked sense of humor. Who else but a young man in love would have done this.....
He never lacked for friends. People just loved him. But to get back to the marmalade...It was Fall and I had been canning. Tomatoes, peaches, apricots, and applesauce. I had made apple butter and several kinds of jam. To make all the pickles on my list, I had bought a bag of salt. We --just Dick and me--were going away for the weekend to visit our friend Big John. A big treat for me.
He was Big John (at 6'2" compared to our John) and he loved marmalade. I found a competent baby sitter --not easy for our bunch, as Doug was only 4 months old, Bill one and a half, Mary three, and John five.
I spent the morning slicing oranges and lemons, making sure the rinds were as thin as possible. Dick interrupted me on his way out to the backyard. "Honey, I emptied the sugar and filled the bowl." I was grateful for any kind of help. I got out my speical rectangular pan--it fit over two burners--and dumped in the oranges, lemons, and about 8 cups of sugar and began to stir. Another interruption when John came into the kitchen. He was hungry, but said he could take care of it himself. He put cereal into a bowl, poured in milk, and added sugar. "This cereal tastes funny," he said. I was too busy to be concerned about his personal taste for cereal as I was having a terrible time with my marmalade. No matter how much it bubbled and boiled, nor how long I stirred, I couldn't get the sugar to melt. "Mom," John insisted. "There's something wrong with the cereal." My response was not as sweet or patient as it should have been. I was now really concerned about my marmalade. "Tastes salty," John said.
Salty? Oh no! I tasted the marmalade. Salty. Dick had never seen salt in a bag. He was so sorry. "It's kind of funny," he said. "Not to me," I replied. "Not now. Give me a little time." He disappeared into the bedroom. I sank into a chair and tried not to cry.
A short time later, they came slowly walking by, Dick, John, Mary, and Bill. All were wearing coats and hats and looking sad. Dick picked up the rectangular pan and said, "We're having services in the back yard." And they did.
All of that happened so long ago, but as I stirred my pan of oranges, lemons, and sugar the memories were as yesterday.
3 comments:
Grammy,
I could read this stuff for days. Thanks for posting these stories and the pictures as well.
Love, Dallas
Love these stories - this one made me laugh and cry. He was such a handsome man! And Bill looked so much like him! Thanks!
Wow! Grammy, your blog is absolutely fantastic! Thanks for sharing these stories.
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