Lillian Margaret: A Memoir - Chapter Two - Coming Of Age

Grandpa Fulton was a giant of a man at a height of 6'4", and weight of 250 pounds, in comparison to grandma who was 4'11" at 160 pounds, but every pound of him loved her dearly. Their small garret apartment was wall to wall clutter, with collections of stamps, coins, butterflies, stuffed birds and small animals, as well as books on American history and biographies. But, neither of them concerned themselves or fretted with household chores - there were more important things in life like good friends, laughter, music and plenty of food. Many evenings were spent looking at grandpa's collection of world-wide picture post cards through the viewer, and frequently, I'd coax him to do his bird calls while grandma accompanied him on the piano. She could play anything from hymns to the classics just hearing the tune one time. She saw good in everyone, and felt a person "must have a good reason" for getting out of line.

On Saturdays, if I didn't have chores to do, grandpa would take me by streetcar to the Tivoli Theater at 63rd Street & Cottage Grove Avenue, where we were not only awed by the 50-piece orchestra rising from the pit, but thrilled by some of the finest vaudeville acts in the world. We were always first in the ticket line too to see the circus. He was a beautiful and interesting man, and I was truly fond of him.

When graduation day finally arrived, I had mixed emotions about leaving the school and my friends, especially my girlfriend, Pearl Daugherty. She was such fun to be with and we had been almost inseparable throughout our grade school years, but it wasn't likely that our paths would cross again as she and her family were moving to Minnesota.

It was summer vacation time again, and we were spending it at home as there was much to do around our new home. Father was trying to cultivate the hard clay to plant a vegetable garden; he was also in the midst of building chicken coops to house the 1000 white leghorn chicks he had purchased. It was very obvious that he was neither a farmer or a builder. This business venture proved to be a family co-op affair - we all had our jobs to do. I fell heir to cleaning the chicken coops, and for this and other chores I received an allowance of 25 cents per week. The only spare time we had was on Sunday and father insisted on the whole family going to Sunday School and morning Church service, and then returning at night for Epworth League and evening Church service, and there was no exception to this rule except for illness. Both of my parents were members of the choir, and in addition, father was the tenor lead of the male quartet.

Stern discipline was the practice back at the century's turn and fathers furnished the discipline and children furnished the stern. It was my misfortune to be a slow learner as far as discipline was concerned. Each time I teased or socked my bratty brother (and that was often), sassed my mother, or misbehaved in any way, my father whacked me good with the back of the hairbrush. He didn't spare the rod, believe me.

My freshman and sophomore years were spent in Lindblom High School on the south side of Chicago, where, after completion of my four years I had high hopes of becoming a secretary. These long range plans were abruptly altered when my junior year schedules were changed from secretarial to general courses. This prompted my decision not to return to high school in the fall, which was a bitter disappointment to my parents.

A better opportunity presented itself for father when he accepted the position of Traffic Manager for Strauss & Schram, a mail order house located in the Stock Yards area; and during my summer vacation I worked in his office as a mail clerk.

With my limited business experience, but with youth, a good attitude and an eagerness to work on my side, I obtained a position as mail clerk, typist, and relief switchboard operator with the Norwich Pharmacal Co. My work was interesting, and what a thrill it was to receive my first monthly check of $67.50. To be able to pay my own way gave me a source of pride, dignity and some independence. And, since I was now a business gal, father even relaxed his restrictions on my use of cosmetics. It was his thinking that women who paint their faces put themselves on a level with savages.

One Sunday evening, I was invited by Sis Falknor to attend Christian Endeavor services at Drexel Park Presbyterian Church, located one block from Thoburn Methodist (my Church), where in addition to meeting Sis' handsome brother, David, and many of their friends, I was introduced to a cute boy named Clare Schmohl. After the service, we all took off to the neighborhood ice cream parlor where they made the fanciest sundaes I'd ever seen. From there the group, all except me, went to the Ogden Theater. I was not allowed to attend movies on Sunday, as it was an ironclad rule in our family that Sunday was the Sabbath - a day to rest and worship - "There are six other days in the week to participate in unrelated Church activities," said father.

More and more my interests were leaning toward the Drexel Park Presbyterian activities, much to the dismay of father, who could not conceive of anyone, much less a member of his family, losing interest in the Methodist Church.

Since my personality and charm had failed to arouse Clare's interest in me, I decided on another approach. It was February and I mailed him a Valentine - my strategy worked - he asked me for a date.

Clare was a quiet, rather shy young man but very mannerly, and a neat dresser. He was a policy clerk with a downtown insurance agency, and the sole support of his mother. He was a dedicated lodge member and held almost every office, including Master of the DeMolays. In spite of my father's objection to my "going steady", Clare and I not only attended all the DeMolay installations and dances, but he frequently spent the weekend with all of us at our Cedar Lake, Indiana cottage.

Father had purchased this Indiana resort property hoping that the fresh air, sun and water would improve my brother's health. Harold was terrified of the water, and in order to cure him of this fear father pushed him into the lake - he immediately sank to the bottom as he couldn't swim. It was months before he would venture anywhere near the lake, but eventually he would be an expert high diver, and was probably the best swimmer in his crowd.

Cedar Lake 1929

Clare and I kept steady company for two and a half years, and during that time I completed a secretarial course at the Chicago Business College, and then was fortunate to obtain a position with H. W. Caldwell & Son, as a stenographer-typist. My parents persuaded me to break off with Clare as they thought I was too young for any serious relationships. Breaking this news to him wasn't easy, as I was not convinced it was the right move. Clare and I were pals - not lovers - there was no passion, sex or "in love" emotions between us, but I assumed "father knows best" and so we reluctantly parted company.

Cedar Lake 1935 - The Albees, and assorted aunts, uncles,
nieces and nephews

Shortly after that painful event, I purchased a Model A Ford Coupe. It was a lot of fun driving it around the Cedar Lake area packed full of kids. Father drove the coupe to work one day and someone slammed into him. Fortunately he escaped with only a few bruises, but the car was wrecked beyond repair.

The chicken venture turned out to be all work and no profit, so it was sold, along with the house, and we moved to Chicago Lawn, about a mile farther west. Grandma and Grandpa Fulton lived in a little cottage a short distance from us, but their lives together would be severed by the death of grandpa from blood poisoning. Whether his life could have been spared had he received medical attention will always remain a mystery, but their lives were governed by the teachings of Mary Baker Eddy, founder of the Christian Science Church, and there was nothing the family could do but stand by. It is heartbreaking to watch someone you love slowly dying in great pain.

Grandpa Fulton's death lifted a great burden of shame and disgrace from not only father's shoulders, but that of his sister, Nellie. For their mother to live with a man without benefit of clergy for over a quarter of a century was a cardinal sin, and their resentment of her actions manifested itself numerous times during those years. The fact that grandma was a Christian Scientist added insult to injury, as he had no use for that religion at all. My mother once threatened to study Christian Science, thinking that it might alleviate the excruciating pain she suffered from migraine headaches, and father stated in no uncertain terms that should she make such a decision, she'd better pack her bags at the same time.

Grandma (Fulton) Albee came to live with us after grandpa's death, but having three generations under one roof wasn't the most harmonious arrangement; so shortly after the marriage of my Aunt Helen to Bill Neff - the cenemony being held in our home - we were on the moving wagon again. This time to 103rd street & Hale Avenue a very affluent neighborhood called Beverly Hills. It was one of the first apartment buildings to be constructed in the area, and it was adjacent to the Rock Island Railroad - a commuter train that went directly to the loop of Chicago. We found that apartment living afforded each of us more leisure time - no yards to groom, no building maintenance and no ashes to carry out. My only responsibility was to keep my room in order, as my mother was a stickler "for everything in its place and a place for everything!"

My job at H.W. Caldwell & Co., became more and more interesting due to the many young men who worked there; and one I greatly admired was Tom Connerton, in the Engineering Division. We dated for several months. He was a marvelous dancer, and a very outgoing, fun loving person. He had charm plus, and he knew it! One evening on a date I stepped on his ego, and that was the end of a beautiful romance. My heart was broken for at least a week, and then Pat Carr, a draftsman at Caldwells came upon the scene. Our first date was to the 6-day Bicycle Races at the Coliseum on the west side of Chicago. This was a new sport for me, and it was so thrilling we attended the races several more times that week.

Pat was quiet and reserved - he would rather play bridge than eat. My interests didn't lean in that direction at all - perhaps because father would not allow us to play cards. My love was dancing, but Pat couldn't dance and wasn't interested in learning. We did enjoy movies though,and attended all the fabulous musicals and operettas that came to town. We had great fun too riding our lightweight English bikes and took many trips to the forest preserves on the outskirts of the city. After a few months of steady dating, Pat gave me a beautiful diamond ring. My folks still didn't think I was ready for marriage, so we promised not to marry for about a year.

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Editor's note: Look for chapter Three October 12