Recipes for Living Arlean Crum

(Note by editor: Years ago when Arlean and Carroll were relatively new in our congregation someone remarked about her to another person who didn’t recognize who she was talking about. The speaker identified her as "the lady who is always smiling". An apt description.)

I was born at home in Des Moines on December 3, 1921. I am the oldest of five siblings, one sister and three or others. When it comes to nationality, I am a Heinz 57-a mixture of English, Scotch, Irish, Dutch, French and German and my grandmother on my mother’s side, Grandma Wagoner, said she had some Indian blood. My grandson told at school that he was partly Indian and when which tribe asked, he came up with "Blackfoot." He must have made that up. That grandmother had been born in Pella and told of moving to Des Moines in a covered wagon. Grandfather died when Mother was four, so we didn't know him.

My grandfather on my father’s side was a stationary engineer, stoking the furnace at the Equitable Building in Des Moines. My father's mother was very religious. Her seed was evidently well planted because most are involved in the churches where we live-one brother and sister in California, Long Beach and Santa Barbara, and two brothers in Des Moines. I remember my grandmother's beautiful handwriting and those poems just flowed from her. She took up writing song lyrics. She wrote one that she entitled, "Baby and Me" and sent it to a publishing house. They took her tune, changed it just a little and it carne out as "My Blue Heaven," but she did not receive any credit for this.

When I was about four, we moved to Chicago. My dad did well in construction work and we lived nicely until 1930 when all of that came to a stop due to the beginning of the Depression. We moved back to Des Moines, and then to a cousin's farm east of the city. Dad helped with the farm work and my parents took care of my mother's elderly uncle. When he passed away, we moved again. In fact, we moved a lot during my childhood-11 times, to be exact, so I attended a lot of different schools. When Dad received a $500 World War I bonus, he tore down the house that had been Anderson Erickson's first dairy, and built us a house. He had some contract help but mostly did it himself with the help of the family, so I know what is involved in cleaning bricks and pulling nails out of boards. Dad worked so hard during that time until way late at night.

While we were growing up we always had our meals at the same regular time. I remember that we had a big round oak table around which we all had to sit. It wasn’t a time to be silly. We weren't supposed to laugh at the table, which made us want to, of course. I remember how something would tickle us and we would hold it in as long as we could and then just burst out laughing!

I started school in Chicago. I simply went to the nearest one, which was a German Lutheran. Along with our other studies we had to learn German. The teacher was very stern. He allowed absolutely no talking. If the girls talked, they had to hold out a hand, palm up and he slapped it with a ruler. If the boys talked, they had to put their heads between his legs and he spanked them with that ruler in front of the whole class. That was a stern teacher! I'll say this, he had discipline, but a teacher surely wouldn't dare do that today!

I liked all my teachers and had some good ones, but we moved so much that I didn't really get attached to any. I seemed to make friends quite easily but had to keep making new ones and leave the old behind. Unlike a lot of people, I had no roots in those early years. Moving was part of my life, and continued to be, actually. During Carroll's and my married life, we moved 14 times.

We moved back to Des Moines in time for me to attend junior high school at Woodrow Wilson; then I graduated from East High, which has a strong alumni association. Even though there were more than 400 in our graduating class, we had lost many members to World War II. We recently contributed $20,000 to the school's scholarship fund.

I had chosen short-hand and typing for my curriculum, but, after I graduated, I couldn't find a job in that field. I ended up taking care of a little girl on week days for $5 a week, $1 a day.

In all our moving, even though our parents didn't go to church, they made sure we children went. We would simply go to the nearest one, regardless of denomination, so I went to a lot of different churches and formed no affiliations. We didn't have any family devotions-no grace before meals, which makes it hard when I would like to do that. I do remember that one time there was a revival in town and we all went. Dad wasn't making much money but when the offering plate came around, he put in just about the last dollar he had. The next day he got a job, and we all considered it an answer to prayer because we had been getting pretty down.

I met Carroll Wendell Crum when I went to a New Year's Eve party at the home of one of my friends. He had been in one of my high school classes but, in such a large school there were a lot of students I didn't know and I hadn't known him. At a later party he asked my girl friend if she and I would go to the show with him and his friend. That was the beginning and we went on from there.

Dating was more inconvenient than it is now. We didn't have a telephone so for any arrangements; Carroll had to come in person. He was a farmer, helping his father on the family farm, so he could only come on Wednesday and Saturday nights. He did have transportation. I remember that '33 Chevy coupe.

We were married December 23, 1939, in the parsonage of the Presbyterian Church in Indianola. Carroll came from a large family and we enjoyed many happy get-togethers.

Carroll and his sister had a fruit stand-a farmers' market. They started by selling melons and home-grown apples, which they purchased wholesale from an orchard that was fairly close. They sold apples by the bushel! After we were married, his sister left and I became involved. The business grew and we turned it into a grocery store.

At the time I became pregnant, I wanted to buy a house. I found a three-room one on East Grand Avenue in Des Moines. The kitchen, dining room and living room were one, then a bedroom and a bath-$700! It sounds pretty insignificant today but it was quite a sum then and we hated taking on such a large debt. Our fathers had to co-sign our note.

Our daughter, Nancy Marie, was born October 2, 1942. The Pearl Harbor attack was December 7, 1941 so it was a time of great uncertainty and unrest. The Ordnance Plant for production of ammunition was being built in Ankeny and Carroll was employed in construction there.

Later, not unexpectedly, Carroll was drafted. Like nearly all young couples in those days, our lives were completely disrupted. We were fortunate to sell the house in a very brief time for more than twice what we gave for it. We were able to pay off all we owed and still had quite a bit left. I moved back home with mother.

By that time, Mother and Father were divorced. I suppose I can understand why. Mother was so young when they were married and Dad was a workaholic. He worked so much, such long hours. Probably that contributed to it but still it seemed strange. They had been married more than 20 years and had borne and raised five children.

Mother never married again. At the time of the divorce, two of my brothers were still in school, living at home. Mother received no alimony, but did receive child support for the two boys. She took a job at Katz Drug Store in downtown Des Moines. My father remarried twice. His first wife was nice. She died and he married again. The second wife is also deceased by now.

Carroll was given a choice in which branch of the military to serve, and chose the Navy. He went off to boot camp in Farragut, Idaho, and shipped out of Bremerton, Washington. He was on a cruiser, USS Mobile, and was sent to the South Pacific with the 7th fleet.

After the atomic bomb was dropped, August, 1945, Japan surrendered. Carroll's unit was sent to Nagasaki, where they liberated 499 of our prisoners of war. He was appalled by what he saw-the· devastation caused by the bomb and the horrible condition of the prisoners, their bodies swollen from lack of food arid malnutrition. How far-reaching the effects of this segment of history go would be impossible to determine. I have felt that, going in so soon after the bomb attack, it is quite possible that Carroll picked up a lot of radiation with later consequences.

He was discharged in 1946 and life became more normal. We had another store in Des Moines for a little while. Then SuperValu asked him to manage one of their stores. He chose not to do that but instead took the position of manager for the Register and Tribune in Centerville.

While we lived there, I was baptized by immersion in the First Baptist Church on Easter, 1947. The reason we became involved in that church was that ever since we had been in Centerville, the church bells tolled when it was time for services to begin. Up and down the street, all the people came out of their houses and walked to church. So Nancy and I joined them. Carroll couldn’t go because of his Sunday work with the paper.

Our next move was back to Des Moines to a farm across from Ewing Park. It was known as the lilac park even then and thousands of people came every year when the lilacs were in bloom. While we were there, we became involved in the Bloomfield United Methodist Church, which was located near the end of our field. It had been built in 1869 and had ever since then been abandoned and reopened several times. The building was not modern-one room with a large stove and in the winter the congregation, including Carroll and me, took turns starting the fire at 5:00a.m. each Sunday morning so the church would be warm for services. In the summer, with no air conditioning, the doors were left open and one Sunday, during the sermon, much to my surprise our collie dog came in and sat down.

Walter Beck was our minister. Sometimes there were only four or five in worship but attendance grew. It was a great day when the church was elevated for the construction of a full basement with a kitchen and rest room. Most of our family came to clean, paint and do the electrical wiring. At that time we discovered what it means to be a connectional church, because what the members gave was supplemented by support from other churches throughout the state. This is why I am glad to be a member of United Methodist Builders.

The work was finished in time for the wedding of my brother to Carroll's niece. Later Nancy and Larry were married there. I attended Bloomfield's 125th anniversary celebration and visited with Bishop Charles Jordan.

Carroll farmed and I went to work in the office of Interchange Power Service. This was a group of power companies that had joined together-Iowa Power, Interstate Power, Iowa Southern Utilities and others. That job was great! I still carried over the feelings of being unable to get a job when I was just out of high school but, when I called, the fellow I talked with said, "Come over," and I was hired. I didn't use my typing education but was a file clerk, ran machines such as the mimeograph, put out a lot of reports, answered the phone and such tasks.

That was when we began milking cows. We had a herd of 20-25, which really keeps you tied down. We began looking at other farms. There was one we wanted to buy but it was a family farm and they didn't want to sell. On the same weekend that Nancy had a guest from Chariton; Carroll was reading the want ads and came to a" Farm for Sale." We had said that we would take the girl home and Carroll said, "Let's go look at this farm on the way to Chariton."

That was in 1957. We came to Osceola, called the number that was in the paper and Ray Overholtzer answered. He said, "I'll have George Buesch meet you and show you the farm." He did and my husband decided he would buy it. Part of the reason may have been that when we were coming to look at it, all the people we saw waved at us. We thought this was the friendliest place we had ever seen. It really did impress us! The farm consisted of two 120-acre farms combined because 120 acres weren't enough to support a family. We had, then, 240 acres, some of which we developed in pasture, some in crops.

Carroll handled all the details while I was working. It was quite a move! The farm was three or four miles south of Murray. We milked the cows before we left, then milked them again when we arrived at the farm, so it was pretty late when we finished.

Our daughter's job was to bring in the cows. In the summer, she had the responsibility of washing the Surge milkers. That was a chore! In Des Moines we had sold milk in milk cans, but in Murray it was picked up in a large steel tank, which was a big improvement.

We finally decided to quit milking and sold the farm to Tom Wolfe who has since passed away. We moved to a farm north of Woodburn, where we raised crops and hogs. At times there was quite an odor! That is the reason I am against the big hog confines, but we did make money. We called the hogs the "mortgage lifters."

I was employed in the Osceola area as office manager for Garris and Overholtzer Insurance Company, and on the switchboard at GTE until 1976. That was a fun job where we could talk to the customers and I worked and became acquainted with lots of girls.

We moved to a farm outside Osceola for awhile. It was while we were there, in 1969, that Carroll was named Master Corn Producer of Clarke County. The water company now owns the land and it is part of the West Lake watershed. Then we moved to a farm about two miles south and west of Highways 34 and I-35. We decided to remodel the house, and did most of the work with my dad's help. It was hard but rewarding. I like fixing up things up. I also like gardening.

In 1980, we discovered my husband had leukemia. He took the news really well. He agreed to take the recommended chemo series. They told him he would lose his hair but he never did. However, his immune system was compromised. We decided to spend the winters in Phoenix. Carroll was under the care of Dr. Schreck and when we told him we might go to Arizona, he told us of a friend that he had known in school, who was in practice there. That doctor cared for Carroll and sent all the records back to keep Dr. Schreck updated on Carroll's condition.

Things went along pretty well and we had a wonderful time in Arizona! We stayed in a retirement village where, even though everyone was retired, they all had something to do. We took in all the sights. We enjoyed being where we could make plans and not have to worry if we would have to cancel them because of weather conditions.

When we returned, we rented out the farm land and lived in the house. We went through what others will recognize. The chemo would work for awhile but then it wouldn't work. The doctor in Arizona said, "If we take a lymph node from the arm pit and send it to the cancer center, they can test it to see what treatment would work." Carroll agreed but he went down hill from then on.

He was in the hospital in Phoenix for 30 days. He coded and they brought him back. Over and over he would say, "I want to go home." So as soon as he was well enough to travel, we returned to Iowa. We flew and our son-in-law, Larry, flew down and drove the car back, packed with all the things we had taken.

Carroll lost so much weight that he became almost a skeleton. After a few months we realized that he would need to go to the hospital. His brother and sister came for him and entered him in the Methodist Hospital in Des Moines. He was on a respirator and we could only, see him about five minutes at a time.

Carroll died in July, 1985. He had never complained. I don't know that I could do that. I stayed on the farm two more years. Then my daughter wanted me to move to town and I bought the house where I now live.

While we were in Arizona we had gone to the Madison Baptist Church. It was a dear church and, when we came back for the summer, we attended the Osceola United Methodist Church. Cliff Haider was the minister and I will always be grateful to Cliff for his friendly and spiritual support to me. Other friends and neighbors helped so much with meals and prayers.

One Sunday morning in 1990, I wasn't feeling well. I was sitting in the narthex and Rayola Andrew sat down beside me and asked how I was. When I told her some of my symptoms, she said, "You sound like my sister, Agnes. You must go to the doctor." I made an appointment with my doctor, who referred me to a wonderful gynecologist. He gave me the test and said, "In my opinion, everything seems fine but we have to send it in." I told him I was planning a trip to California and asked if I should go. He encouraged me to do that. My travel mate was Alice Young and we had a lovely time! I stopped to see my brother, stopped again and saw my sister. When I arrived home, the phone was ringing off the wall. The message was, "I am sorry to inform you but the test came back showing cancer."

I called Rayola and she must have called our pastor, Cliff, because he and Jane came that very day. I had surgery and radiation was recommended. I had 30-some treatments, not knowing that radiation, at least for me, could create problems of its own. The last time I was hospitalized, my son-in-law remarked to a doctor, "No one told her about the potential problems." The answer was, "We think if we can give a patient five years, they are lucky." So, I am lucky; but the first time there is a blockage that doesn't clear up of its own accord, I will have to go immediately into surgery.

Everyone has been so good to me. My brothers and sister have stayed in close touch. Closest of all are my daughter Nancy, her husband, Larry, and my grandson, Randy, who live in Des Moines. Randy is a firefighter, unmarried, and I think the world of him. Nancy and Larry belong to and are very active in First Federated Church in Des Moines. Larry has just come off the Board; Nancy is a deaconess, among other duties, seeing that communion elements are prepared. To involve this large congregation in a personal way, they have mini-churches in homes, and Larry and Nancy participate in that.

I stay as active as I can. My time flies. I don't go as much as I did. I do still drive but only in town. However, I can do many things at or close to home. I head our prayer chain and I attend church every Sunday, belong to Query Club and I did substitute for bridge but don’t do that much any more. I am a Pink Lady at the hospital once a week; i.e., I deliver mail, visit the patients, and distribute our inspirational booklets.

I was one of the groups who went through a study entitled "Genesis to Revelation''. It took us eight years to go through the Bible book by book, chapter by chapter and verse by verse. We grew very close and, when I go back through the list of those involved, it is a pretty nostalgic trip: Fannie Jacobs, Ruth Mateer, Edith Brown, Scottie Rilea, Juanita Norton, Hazel Day, Helen Harsh, Frances Barr, Leota Broyles, Rayola Andrew, Laurie Clark, Kathryn Havard, Georgia Van Winkle, Fern Underwood, Ethel Tangeman and myself, along with these who died along the way: Edna Perkins, Berdice Barnes, Bernie Waller and Beth Byerly. Many of the others are also gone now.