Ida sat in a stunned state of silence all the way home, and it tickled Elner to death. She didn’t tell Ida that Harry and Bess had stopped at her farm for the same reason that everybody else had. They had been lost. Thanks to that bad turn on the road to Joplin, she had met some of the nicest people.
The real truth was it had never occurred to Elner that the Trumans would even remember her. It had been years earlier, long before he was president. But Elner had not taken into account how many people in their lifetimes the Trumans would meet who had a blind possum named Calvin Coolidge that ate ice cream out of a dish at the table, and a three-legged banty rooster. And then there were the fig preserves she’d sent them every year. Harry had been a farmer and during those troubled years in the White House, those preserves had made him think of home.
But then, Elner had never told Ida about meeting Bonnie and Clyde, either. Or that she’d given them directions right to Herbert’s bank and told them to tell him that Elner sent them. Thank heavens they hadn’t gone there and held it up or she would never have heard the end of it.
As upset as Ida was over the Truman affair, her next column had this glowing thing to say:
* * *
THE WHOLE TOWN’S TALKING
* * *
by Mrs. Ida Jenkins
This week, the whole town’s talking about our recent motor trip to Independence to welcome home our longtime family friends, former president Harry Truman and his wife, Bess, from his stint in Washington, D.C., and add our “Well done, Harry” sentiments.
* * *
In her weekly column, Ida had sounded like everything was hunky-dory, but she was still very upset with Elner. As she told her husband, “My one chance to hobnob with notables, and she doesn’t even tell me she knew the Trumans. If I had known that, I would have been sitting up at the White House having tea with them within the week.”
Herbert asked, “How would you do that?”
“Easy. You know me. I would have gotten myself up to Washington, D.C., as fast as I could, knocked on the door, and said I was Elner’s sister and just dropped by to say hello.”
He laughed. “Oh, Ida.”
“You may laugh, but I guarantee you that before I left that day, I would have gotten you a high-ranking position with the government, an ambassadorship, if nothing else. But no. All Elner said was, ‘You never asked,’ and here we sit, stuck in Elmwood Springs, Missouri, when who knows how far we could have gone. I could just strangle her.”
Herbert looked at his wife and shook his head in sheer amazement. He smiled and said, “Honey, you’re wonderful. Crazy, but wonderful.”
1954
Eight-year-old Hanna Marie Swensen was taken to Springfield twice a week to learn sign language. Beatrice and Ander would often sit in on the lessons and learn signing as well, so they could talk to their daughter.
Signing was harder for Ander, with his big, beefy hands, but he tried. He’d practiced over and over, and on Hanna Marie’s eighth birthday, he surprised her by signing, “You are the most beautiful girl in the world.” Ander didn’t know it, but he had signed, “You are the most beautiful squirrel in the world.” Hanna Marie had giggled at his mistake and hugged his neck. She loved her daddy.
Ander had a particular interest in mentoring young people, as Lordor had before him. Every summer, Ander trained all the young 4-H Club members how to care for and raise cows properly. Many grew up and worked for him at the dairy.
Also years ago, Ander had established a “Bring Your Child to Work Day” on the first Monday in May. He felt it was good, even for the younger children, to see what their parents did to make a living, and he thought that this might help to instill a good work ethic at an early age. But besides the practical side, it was a lot of fun for everyone. The kids loved running all over the dairy, petting all the cows and seeing every aspect of the dairy business, from the milking to the bottling to the making of the cheese to watching the office workers handle the billing and ordering.
Hanna Marie loved going to work with her daddy on this day. And he delighted in taking her around to all the different departments, introducing her to each of his employees. She would shake hands with everyone she met while Ander beamed with pride.
This year, when Hanna Marie saw little Miss Davenport, who worked in the office, Miss Davenport had been surprised at how she had grown. She looked at Ander and said, “Oh my, Hanna Marie is almost as tall as I am now.”
At the end of the day, there would be a big outdoor party for everyone, and Hanna Marie and Ander would help scoop ice cream for the children.
Every year, when they would come home, they both would have ice cream all over their good clothes, but Beatrice didn’t care. She knew that day meant so much to both of them.
—
HANNA MARIE WAS UNABLE to attend regular school with the other children in town, but Beatrice and Ander hired a private teacher who specialized in teaching the deaf to come and live with them. Soon Hanna Marie was learning to read and write, and was quite excited about it.
Several months later, Elner went to her mailbox, and was surprised to see a letter written in childish, but quite readable handwriting, addressed to
AUNT ELNER SHIMFISSLE
COTTONWOOD FARM
RURAL ROUTE 216
ELMWOOD SPRINGS, MISSOURI
Dear Aunt Elner,
This is me, Hanna Marie, writing a letter to say hello to you. I hope you are fine. I am fine. Mother and Daddy say hello to you too. Please write a letter to me sometime too. My teacher said that I can read very well. I am drawing you a picture of my teacher.
I love you very much,
Hanna Marie Swensen
Even though Elner was not her real aunt, Hanna Marie did love her. She had known her all of her young life. She had often spent the night with Elner and Will out at the farm. And even now, almost every Saturday morning, Norma would drive Hanna Marie and her own little girl, Linda, out for a weekly visit.
One pretty morning in June, Norma and Elner were sitting on Elner’s big screened-in back porch drinking iced tea while the two girls played with a new baby rabbit. Ever since Hanna Marie had learned to read and write she always had a pad and pencil with her, and today, as usual, she was busy writing down another one of her many questions. When she showed her pad to Elner, it said, “Is this a girl bunny?”
Elner took the baby rabbit, examined it, then handed it back to her and nodded yes. Then Hanna Marie quickly wrote down her next question. “How can you tell?”
Elner looked over at Norma for help. “Oh Lord, Norma, I can’t write that down.”
Norma laughed. “Well, you’d better write something, or else she’ll just keep asking.”
Elner took the pad and wrote, “Girl bunnies have shorter ears.”
It was a lie, of course, but it must have satisfied Hanna Marie, because she was on to the next question.
“Aunt Elner, can we go and see the baby goats now? Please!”
Elner put her tea down and stood up. “Oh, sure, honey. Come on, Norma. Let’s go see the goats.”
Norma shook her head. “No, you all go. I don’t care much for goats. They smell. So if you don’t mind, I’ll just sit here and observe from afar.”