Memoirs: My Birth -Part 2

The upstairs bedroom with two double beds and a cot were filled with seven kids. Dad and mom slept in the living room. The house was crowded with nine squeezed into such a limited space. Dad’s income was less than adequate as he picked up odd jobs to keep hunger from knocking on their door.

Mom felt burdened with the responsibility of sewing, cooking and doing all the other things that go with keeping a large family alive. She managed without any conveniences. There was no running water or adequate heat. The only bathroom was at the end of a muddy path behind the summer kitchen. The refrigerator was a shelf at the cold end of the kitchen. The food she cooked had been planted and harvested by her and any child old enough to help. She held hunger at bay during the winter months by canning fruits and vegetables, jellies and jams, meats of all kinds.

Nuts were hulled and put into jars and hid behind canned spinach. Sweet potatoes did well under the upstairs beds while the Irish variety stayed in the damp outdoor cellar. Life was more than difficult for Mom; she felt it was almost unbearable. It was at this time that a fresh cry came from the bed in the living room on a bitter cold January night. I became another mouth to feed.


There were no provisions for another child such as a bassinette or crib. Charlie was using the only one they had. At eighteen months old, he was still a baby himself. Mom was never short on ingenuity. She had dad pull out the bottom drawer of the dresser and use it for my bed. They went to the barn and gathered enough hay to fill it. A pillowcase was the perfect answer for an infant sheet. When I was laid in this make-shift bassinette, they pulled it over near the fireplace to keep me warm. This was where I slept until I grew big enough to kick Charlie out of his crib.