The Passing of the Older Generation

Helen and; Mary
cc 1924

In December my Aunt Helen passed away – breaking the last link with the generation that raised me, my siblings and cousins. We are who we are today because of Helen, my mother, Mary Grace, their sister, Ethel, and their mother, my grandmother, Edna. Many others played a part, but for me, they provided a crucial example of how to live. There was no false piety, but there was humor. 

The two biggest sins, and I’m not sure if they could have ranked one ahead of the other, were self-pity and arrogance. Neither was tolerated. I always thought of these as Walker traits, but the more I think about it, it went back to Edna’s mother, Betsy Sharpe Walker. So maybe they’re Sharpe traits; but it’s hard to believe Betsy wasn’t trained by her mother, Rebecca Hutton Sharpe. So I guess we could say they’re Hutton-Sharpe-Walker-Burkhardt ways of doing things.

Rebekah Hutton Sharpe

To digress a bit, Rebecca Hutton Sharpe was said to have taught school in their village in Lincolnshire in northeastern England which would probably mean in the 1850 to 1860's. She and William, immigrated to America in the late 1860's. In Mareham le Fen they farmed 22 acres, but in the United States they could get 160 acres for a small filing fee and a promise to live on the land for five years. The Homestead Act also called for schools to be built. And education was always an emphasis for the Sharpes, then the Walkers and then the Burkhardts.

One was never allowed to take one’s self too seriously. Edna recalled that her father walked with a cane so he could toss it in the air. Edna said in an interview by Mary Grace, He walked with me to high school tipping his top hat to everyone.  Since she remembered it long after the fact I have to assume she didn’t particularly enjoy his cane tossing and hat tipping, but she grew to realize it wasn’t about her. That incident reminded me of growing up with my father who would introduce himself to everyone we met with, Hi, I’m Ray Morgan of the Kansas City Star. No one else’s father did that – say Hi, I'm John Smith of Bendix. As we rolled our eyes, we got the stare from our mother.The lesson, subtly or not, was that don’t think so much of yourself that you let someone else embarrass you. A very hard lesson to teach – and to learn.

The weapon of choice for discipline for Edna and her daughters was sarcasm, which I think may have been added by the Walkers. The letters of Betsy's  I’ve seen don’t have a touch of sarcasm, but the one from one of Edward Walker’s sister does.

Growing up, if all you were getting was sarcasm, you weren’t screwing up that much. It was a gentle, or maybe not so gentle way, of getting you back in line. In other words don’t take yourself so seriously. The following are excerpts from letters sent to Mary Grace who was attending church camp, Camp Eureka, in Manhattan in June 1939. They should help me illustrate their humor. The various letter writers are Helen, Ethel, Edna and EA.

From EA:

Dear Mary!

How are you? Did you meet Mom at the gate? We are very busy at the shop. Harold and I went to the Ball game last night. Topeka won, 3 to 0 and our pitcher struck out 9 men at the home plate, how’s that?  Hope you’re having a good time with the boys and girls. Write us a note sometime and be a good girl. Tom said to tell you hello for him.

Love Daddy

Then from Bess (Ethel):

Hello Mary:
This is me. Having more fun since you aren’t here to bother me. How’s camp? I’ll bet it’s fun. I worked all morning this morning and Helen is about to pass out because I’m not going to work this afternoon. It is sure wearing her to a frazzle. Love Bess.

From Edna:

Ethel, Helen and Mary Grace, 1942

Dear Mary Grace,

Was glad to get your letter, am waiting till Helen gets home to tell me more about cabin 21, but just as long as you are happy, it is all O.K. You can get a fork in Manhattan dime stores, if you have lost the other one, although the set is better with it. Maybe it was thrown out with the trash.

Daddy bought two twin chairs for the front porch they are about the color of the geraniums I bought, not quite red, but most nigh. They are pretty stiff yet, but think after a few fatties have sat in them that it will be easier.

Kenneth Bossler is going to Camp Wood next week, his mother said he wanted to try a little camp life and hear the bugle blow. Heaps of love from your mother.

And from Helen (parts of the letter were torn):

June 9, 1939

Dear Mary:

My finger’s a lot better. I can even write now. I have been doing some real silly things. I’ve been sitting at home pining for Bill and waiting for a letter. I slipped at the supper table the other night and said I was waiting for a letter from Bill.

Helen's letter

. . . .Mother sees me . . . . and asks if my letter has arrived. I just smile and say no, but I’m expecting it any day now. The neighbors are beginning to wonder if I might be a loose woman – I am.

Tootsie left Wednesday and Elinjean leaves Saturday noon.

My – am I lonesome. Elvie and I went out the other night and parked alongside the road and talked. Elvie just had all her hair cut off and looked just like a boy. Some of your fellow classmates came honking by and shrieked, “Break it up buddy.” They flashed their lights on us and made disparaging remarks for . . . and Elvie and I just laughed and laughed. Have a good time and tell all the kids hello for me. Love Helen.

From Edna:

Dear Mary Grace,

You were a lucky dog to be a missing link around here today, Helen, much to her disgust, helped me can cherries, then she put them in the oven like you do for me and turned it on to 350 instead of 250, a brilliant sister you have, so she galloped out and took them out 30 minutes sooner, don’t know whether the fruit will agree with that idea or not, a few weeks and we will know. Then after the luncheon this noon, there were 32 present and a little visit at Jean Robertson’s’ home. I hurried home to can some strawberries and gooseberries, it is a great life if one does not weaken.

Mary & Helen in ocean_1939

Harold, Ethel and I drove to Dover last eve to see the fresh air movies, but they were too much for Bess and I so we trotted back in the store and visited with Mrs. Winter, Gee! But it was a tough movie so we left them in the cemetery digging for stolen gold and they carted up a few corpses first, that was too much for a pair of pantie waists. Mr. and Mrs. Myers were out there, the neighbors of McPherson, so Bess introduced them to me and they seemed real nice.

And another from Bess:

Dear Squirt,

We were so thrilled we went to Dover last night to see the picture show (after all these years and I still can’t type without making mistakes.) As Mother probably told you, we got tired and left when they started running around in the cemetery. Too much for me. Don’t you wish you were here to go with us tomorrow after Grandmother? Won’t that be nice?

I wish you would come back and clean the grease off Tar Baby. I was under our car trying to scare a dog about one-half as big as he is and so got grease on his back. He is a mess and I don’t associate with him, except once-in-a-while. Bess

This homage probably doesn’t do them justice. But the one way they always made you feel was that with them you were safe. They judged you, but didn’t belittle you. They were your fiercest protectors. Pictured below are ten of Edna's 15 grandchildren. We can only hope that we do their memory and attempts to raise us the justice they deserve.

Christmas 1972
top row: Scott, Hall and Cindy
next row: Steve, Sally, Bruce, Chris and Susan
bottom row: Debbie and Kerry