Mary Lou Thomas-Denney
My mother, Mary Lou Thomas, was from Davenport, Iowa. She had an older brother, Murrell, and a younger sister, Hazel. She had beautiful natural curly auburn hair, green eyes, and a ruddy complexion. She was only 4 foot 10 inches and weighed 97 pounds. She was in high school during World War II, and like others her age, she worked evenings and weekends to help out. She worked on Arsenal Island painting bombs in a factory.
The Island has been a military facility with a long history dating back to the early years of this country. Troops were stationed there before World Wars I and II while they were being trained and outfitted to be sent overseas.
It had been a prisoner of war camp as far back as the Spanish American War days. Prisoners from Europe, Japan, and Korea were held there during conflicts. Many prisoners chose to remain in the states after the wars and settled in the area. As a result, there are many different cultures represented. It is still a military facility today.
After the war, she worked in a bakery. This is where she was working when she met my dad. She went to Central High School but dropped out in March of her senior year to get married. She always wished she had finished and would tell us, to always stay in school no matter what. She stressed that education was one of the most important things in life.
Even though she didn’t finish school, she never stopped learning. She got a job as an apprentice in a barbershop, and eventually, got a license as a barber. I can remember men lined up on Saturdays at our back porch to get haircuts.
The main piece of wisdom she imparted to me was to learn a new skill every year. That way you would not fear new things and you would always have something to fall back on.
She was also a beautiful seamstress. She sewed for ladies in the community, I started helping when I was nine. My job was to sit on the floor, with a device called a hemming tree, pinning hems on dresses. It was a vertical ruler connected to a base that kept it up-right. You would determine where the hem would go then mark the ruler. Next, you went around the dress pinning the fabric where the mark was. Then you hemmed the dress at the marks. This way the hem would hang straight. I also sewed on buttons once the buttonholes were made.
We would go to different stores to look at the latest styles. She always carried a notebook in her purse and would draw pictures of something she liked. A sleeve from one, the neckline of another, different fronts and so on would go into her notebook. She would then design a style and make a pattern. I was her model for her new designs, I wore them to school and church, this generated orders for her business.
Mom made beautiful Irish lace that she attached to everything—all the towels, pillowcases, and washcloths. She was one of those people who could do several things at once and be good at all of them.
She always wanted a big house in the country, and dad promised to build her one. But he no more than got it done when the city incorporated the street we lived on. They sold the house and moved us to southern Missouri, 15 miles from the nearest town. Hoping that was far enough away to keep the city from our doorstep.
Mom still felt it was her civic duty to help out in the community. She volunteered at the county extension service and manned the voting pole during elections. She was also on the school board and PTA.
The only time I ever saw her break down was the Christmas after dad died. Mom had always been in charge of the group that put together holiday food boxes at church. This time they brought us a box and mom couldn’t even go to the door. She sent me to tell the ladies thank you and receive the box. They had good intentions and she eventually got over the hurt but she felt embarrassed at the gesture.
Mom was 33 with 4 children under 14 when dad died of cancer. She tried to hold on to the farm but had to sell off the livestock to make ends meet. She got a job in town at the sewing factory making blue jeans. It was hard work that didn’t pay a lot but we survived. About 4 years later she met a sergeant in the army and married him. They moved to Florida when he retired a few years later, which seemed to make her happy.
She enjoyed their active social life, tending her rose garden and fishing in the ocean. My 2 brothers and I had already left home when she died of a cerebral hemorrhage at the age of 42. I had recently returned from Germany, where I had been working for the Army in the civil service. We had made big plans for the summer. The kids and I were going to come to Florida. We were going to lay on the beach, catch up on the last 6 years I had been overseas, and she was eager to get to know her grandchildren.
She was a wonderful role model, being a farm wife, single mother. She was stern but always willing to help and ready with advice when asked. I wondered how I could ever fill those shoes; she always said we came from a long line of strong women. I hope I have lived up to her expectation.
Leave a Reply