An American Doctor's Life Divinely Orchestrated

By Leslie R. Webber M.D.

This is the story of LESLIE WEBBER, a retired physician with interesting adversities, from the depression years to the 90s. The writing was mostly for family, but at this time I have been encouraged to publish it. The most of the material is from memory, but augmented by letters written over a 35 year period, which my mother had saved.

I was a letter writer from the time I left home at age 15 until my mothers death. I was not aware she had saved them all until they were discovered after her death in a closet.

My mother and grandmother were instrumental in my success by their persistent prayers in my behalf. From my perspective, coincidence, does not answer many details of my story as well as divine intervention. Windows seemed to open in reasonable times when doors were closed. The reader can make up his or her own mind.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Dec 6, 2006
• ISBN: 9781467091909

Book preview

Chapter 1

Early Days 1930-35

SOME HISTORICAL FACTS FROM 1930:

Congress created Veteran’s Administration.

New York Installed traffic lights Invented in 1923.

SPORTS:

Billy Arnold won Indy 500 100.4 mi/hr

Babe Ruth Hired NY Yankees @ $160,000.00/yr salary!

PRICES:

Stamp $0.02 Bread/lb $0.09

Milk $0.14/Qt. Gas/gal: $0.20

Average House: $7,146.00 My B.D. May 12, 1930

My earliest memories are with Grandma Rosecrans on Fremont Street. Grandma and Grandpa Rosecrans moved from Westwood, California to Klamath Falls, Oregon in the early 30’s and I have no recollection of this move. The house belonged to Uncle Ray and he gave it to Grandma and Grandpa Rosecrans to live in and apparently gave them something like $5.00 a month living expenses. Social security had not arrived on the scene at that time and how my grandparents lived on so little money, is still a mystery to me, but I have no recollection of feeling deprived of anything. I do remember milk was 10 cents a quart, bread was 5 cents a loaf and Campbell’s soup was 10 cents a can. Grandpa Rosecrans died in 1937 and I have no recollection of this event and remember very little about him. I eventually inherited his railroad watch which I was fascinated with as a small child, and my son MIKE has it at this time. Grandma Rosecrans managed to get me a wagon with green stamps and UNCLE BUN come up with a tricycle, so early I was well supplied with wheels and plenty of side walk. I had the entire neighborhood at my disposal and my best buddy early was JIM Pool [not sure of the last name]. We shared whatever we had. Grandma Rosecrans always had a very large garden with berries, vegetables of all kinds plus a large apple tree in the front yard which was prolific and was a great tree for climbing. These were always available to kids and there is nothing greater than pulling a carrot from the ground, washing it off in the water hose and eating it, not to mention fresh strawberries and raspberries. Raspberries, strawberries, gooseberries and so forth were there in season and it was legal for kids to pick them.

I attempted to generate some cash and picked Grandma’s pansies, trying to sell them as a bouquet. The only customer was the black family down by the railroad tracks and she gave me a penny which to a kid was a lot and she made you feel the flowers were just special for her. My opinion of black people for the most of my life was from that interaction. The grammar school was only 3 blocks up the street which I went to eventually from the Johnson Street address.

At this time in my life I remember UNCLE RAY visiting and when he came to visit it was the greatest. He would take me to the bars in town. Uncle Ray always had an inventory of great stories to tell and we all loved to listen. I got a glass of buttermilk and Uncle Ray had a beer. He tried me at a movie but gave that up; I am told because I always had to go to the bathroom at inopportune times.

Someway the family managed to get me on a train from Klamath Falls, Oregon to Susanville, California each summer, where AUNT ALICE would pick me up. I usually was allowed to stay most of the summer, which was the high point of the year. Aunt Alice always had exciting things for a small kid to do especially going out to the lake. Aunt Alice was married to Dr. Fred J. Davis. I knew him as Uncle Bun, his nickname. His parents had a very large house right on Lake Almanor, which to a small child was the equivalent of a luxury vacation resort. They had a row boat which I could row around the dock all day which I did and received the worst sunburn I can remember. I had a large blister on both shoulders, was bright red from head to toe, and lay in bed in the Susanville home on Pine Street in agony for a week before it healed. From then on I had a healthy respect for sun. I loved boats from that age on and Uncle Bun had an antique speedboat plus a very nice mahogany Chriscraft that I thought was the ultimate in recreational equipment. Uncle Bun had a Lincoln Zephyr car then with the huge speedometer located centrally and the curved shift lever that fit close to the dash missing the speedometer. I thought it was the ultimate in cars. Being small, my seat was in the middle so I had a lot of time to look at this huge speedometer. I think Uncle Bun occasionally got stuck with me, and to me this was very special because he would take me along on hospital rounds and refer to me as his little doctor. He was one of the most skilled versatile general practitioners I have ever known, after a lifetime in medicine. Uncle Bun was my idol as a child and I thought his way of making a living was the best possible, in contrast to Clifford’s, which was hard grueling labor all the time. It goes without saying, that I adored UNCLE BUN and AUNT ALICE. When visiting Aunt Alice, UNCLE RAY seemed to always show up sometime and we always went for a walk and Uncle Ray usually came up with some special treat. It was either a Glass of buttermilk, or ice cream cone. If it came from Uncle Ray, it was special to me. Uncle Ray remained a person who was the most beloved relative all of my life. He had no children of his own and probably adopted me to substitute. At this time, Uncle Ray lived in Westwood, California where he worked on the log pond, which was a job in which you directed logs into a receiving belt-like chain, that then pulled the logs in front of a huge band saw on a trolley that ran back and forth sawing boards off the log, and that is how lumber was made. He had a lot of stories of falling in the water while working on the pond. He had special shoes with spikes on the soles to facilitate walking on the logs which were floating in the water. Logs were transported from the forest on logging trucks or train flatcars. They were unloaded in to the river, up stream. They were herded into a pond area adjacent to the sawmill, in preparation for someone pulling the logs on to the belt which had large lugs on it to spike into the logs and carry them up to the sawyer. The instrument used to push the logs where you wanted them was a pike. It had 2 L shaped sharp points on the end of a long wood pole. With this combination you could spike the tip into the log and push it where you wanted it or hammer the L point into the log and pull the floating log where you wanted it.

Eventually, Uncle Ray moved to San Francisco during WWII and worked in the ship building industry, running a crane for the war effort with better salary than the sawmill paid in Westwood. At this point in time the forests around Westwood were being depleted and Uncle Ray felt Westwood would shortly have no work for him and this happened. Westwood was a lumber town which was owned by the Walker Family. They built the saw mill and constructed houses for all the employees and in the early 30’s, this was a very choice place to live. The Walkers were very accommodating to the working people in contrast to other similar situations like the coal mines. Those that lived there had nothing but praise for the Walkers. They constructed an entire town with hospital, churches, stores, soda fountain, boarding house for the single workers and so forth. It eventually became a ghost town, but later many senior citizens saw a bargain and began buying the old houses and it has now revived into a retirement community. I am told the ROSECRANS FAMILY moved from Melrose, Missouri to Westwood in the 20’s when my mother was a teenager.

Background on the Rosecrans family: Grandma Rosecrans was a teacher, apparently, who married Henry Rosecrans around 1878... Grandma could trace her family back to 1793, somewhere in Massachusetts. Her maiden name was Pinkerton. Grandpa Rosecrans had no education and Grandma taught him how to read and sign his name. They had something like 10 children including 3 sets of twins. Grandpa Rosecrans can trace his family back to GENERAL STERLING ROSECRANS of Civil war fame and from this point actually trace the Rosecrans family back to the year 1000 in Denmark via Holland first, then to Germany under ROSENKRANTZ I am told there is still an existing Rosecrans Castle some 80 miles west of Aarhas, Denmark. Grandpa Rosecrans worked at common labor all of his life and living conditions were rather grim until they moved to Westwood and for the first time the family had indoor plumbing. I have met all the uncles and aunts and will say a few things about each. DULCIE was the oldest. She left home age 14 and worked as a maid, so I am told, and eventually married a man whom I was led to believe was not much. He committed suicide with the stock market crash of 1929. Dulcie did not remarry, although she kept the married name. Her husband’s name was Ed Jackson. She lived in Kansas City most of her life and the family visited her several times in her home near the Plaza in Kansas City. She lived to be 96 and died in a nursing home in Placerville, California with Aunt Alice looking after her the last years. Aunt Dulcie was a delightful attractive woman who was a great cook and I could never understand why she did not remarry.

Next was Della, and my only information on her is that she married into the ROUSHE family, and died in childbirth. These women were twins.

Next, was Uncle Bill, who was a very gentle Christian man who lived in Anderson Indiana all his life with his wife Kathryn. Uncle Bill made the effort to come to my Medical School Graduation. We, as a family, made many trips to Anderson Indiana in our motor home visiting and doing what we could in his last years. He died of a stroke and his wife, Kathryn, died of rectal cancer a year later. Aunt Kathryn was a traveling evangelist who was very successful when Uncle Bill met her. We have a photo of her in this setting and she was a strikingly beautiful young lady. Aunt Kathryn was apparently a real showgirl in her position as an evangelist traveling throughout the country. There is a picture somewhere of her rising out of a large rose on the stage to begin her sermon. Her pattern was to come to a town, raise a tent structure, advertise, then, preach until the crowds diminished. Uncle Bill was instrumental in setting up the tents and this is how they met. The story goes that Uncle Bill spent a long time romancing her before they were married, but once Kathryn married, she discontinued her profession as an evangelist. The story goes that she was driving a model T ford on her adventures and a car salesman approached her trying to sell her a new 1935 AUBURN CAR. She told him she could not afford the car and his reply was something to the effect that with what she had going for her, he was not worried about her paying him for the car. This was the last car her and Bill owned. They relied on public transportation the rest of their lives, living very frugally in Anderson, Indiana. They had 2 boys whom we visited, but neither were much support to them in later years and for the most part, there was not a close loving relationship on the part of the 2 boys.

Next was Uncle Joe, who spent most of his life as an unsuccessful farmer. He eventually moved to Napa, Idaho and thanks to some start up money from Uncle Ray had a garbage business which was quite successful, I am told. This success allowed Uncle Joe to purchase several modest houses, which he rented for retirement income. I only visited him one time when they had a goat farm in Bonners Ferry Idaho. It was a grim setting to me as a small child with no indoor plumbing, a one room barn like house, and you obtained water at a spring some 100 yards distant. There was a lot of work milking the goats for milk, which they sold locally. I had my fair share of milking goats in the Chiloquin setting later.

Next were twins: Ray and Roy. Uncle Ray you will hear a lot about and all the children adored him. Uncle Roy was basically the black sheep of the family. He apparently was in Leavenworth Prison for Rape when WWII came along and was allowed a pardon if he would fight on the front line in the war in Europe. For him this was great. He was a thief at heart and stole an enormous amount of war surplus while fighting the Germans All of us kids in the family were sent a Hitler youth knife and a P38 Lugar pistol with a very nice leather holster. I somehow lost the dagger, but had the P38 pistol for many years. I had this pistol in the drawer at Santa Clara University for 3 years. That would be an absolute no, now, but was something I thought was normal then. Shells were a bit expensive at 10 cents apiece, but otherwise it was a very fine precision pistol which I enjoyed shooting at appropriate times and places. Roy eventually returned to Civilian life as a barber but ended up a hit man for the unions and was constantly in trouble with the law. I saw him last in a nursing home in Willows, California. He had a wife and 4 boys. The boys apparently inherited his negative genes and were all dead in their 20’s of assorted illegal actions.

Next was Uncle Harry who was my mother’s twin brother. He lived a modest life as a welder and moved to Butte Montana eventually working for the famous copper mine there the rest of his working career. His wife, Margaret, was a demanding redhead whom I had very little to do with. They had 2 daughters. I visited Peggy, in Butte Montana with Aunt Alice and Clifford in the 90’s and she was a delightful person who raised something like 9 children who all turned out well. At the time of our visit, she had divorced her husband quite a few years previous and I have no information on this. At that time she was running a day care center in her home to make a living. She later moved to Texas and I have an address for her but have not seen her since this visit. Harry was in a nursing home for reasons I am not sure of. His mind was still clear when we visited. Margaret, his wife, was in end stage alzhimers and for all practical purposes comatose when I last saw her. The other daughter Harriet, was a problem child all her life My mother, Grace, was Harry’s twin sister and you will hear a lot about this saintly woman All our children were acquainted with Grandma Webber, but did not see that much of her during her lifetime.

Next was AUNT ALICE, whom I have mentioned previously, a favorite of mine. She worked her way through nursing school at Stanford where she met UNCLE BUN, who was probably in his last year of medical school at Stanford. They were secretly married during her last year of nursing school which was a high risk thing to do because you would have been expelled from the Stanford Nursing School at that time if you married. They successfully managed this and when both graduated, they moved to Westwood where Bun went into practice with his father, a highly skilled general practitioner hired by the Walkers for the people in Westwood. The story goes that the senior Dr Davis came down to look at Bun’s proposed internship and the father made the decision that he could teach Bun more working with him, As far as I know, Bun did not do an internship but became the most skilled General Practitioner imaginable. He did it all including C sections for delivery, pinned hips, did hand surgery on injured loggers and sawmill workers, did all sorts of orthopedics, all manner of abdominal surgery, burr holes for subdurals and to my knowledge did anything that needed to be done. He made the effort to keep up on all these skills including the hand surgery clinics in San Francisco that had world wide status. As a minor sidelight to UNCLE BUN, when I was accepted to medical school, he wrote me a hand written letter that should I have any financial or other difficulties, he would be there to help. I still have this letter which I cherish. GOD intervened when needed so that I did not have to use this generous option, but it was always there and I knew he would honor it. Later when I was in medical school and would visit him bragging about my unusual cases in the St Louis Medical School, he would show me similar cases in his rounds which he was treating and I returned with some of his treatment regimens to med school. The proposed therapies were looked upon with respect by the professors and they were curious to know where I had obtained such up to date quality information. Alice and Bun had 5 children: Dorothy, Henry, Marka, Bonnie and Paul. Each one is a story in itself. I will have to decide whether to write this as part of my book or not. I kept in close contact with Aunt Alice until her death, so was privileged to hear the adversities she faced aiding her children as their problems presented themselves, and there were many. Next in line was Aunt Orrel, whom I maintained a close relationship all my life. She is the one that encouraged me to live in her home when first arriving in San Jose California where she lived. Incidentally, Harry and Orrel inherited the house in Klamath Falls on Fremont Street that I grew up in until about age 6. They made an effort to improve the house but there was not much to work with so eventually purchased a 2 story home on California Street in Klamath Falls which was very nice. Harry worked in the sawmills at that time but this was WWII and they saw more opportunity in what is now known as silicone valley, so moved down there and Uncle Harry had a job in a Steel Mill in San Jose. Uncle Harry was another special person in my life….always a delight to be around. Harry and Orrel were heavy cigarette smokers and both died of the result of this, especially Aunt Orrel who had serious Emphasema terminally. Uncle Harry had a Brain Tumor terminally, in addition to the Emphasema. They had one son, MIKE, whom I still keep in contact. He is a retired teacher now living in Arnold California with his wife Em.

Eventually Uncle Ray negotiated a job as night maintenance man for Kilpatrick Bakery in San Francisco, after WWII, where he worked the rest of his working career. When I visited Uncle Ray, at an early age, he took me to work with him, and I followed him around on his repair rounds until I became sleepy. He would then place me in the locker room on the floor where I would sleep the rest of the night and go home with him in the morning. I would then sleep until Uncle Ray woke up from the night shift and we then would bum around San Francisco, which was always exciting to a little kid. Anything you did with Uncle Ray was special. Uncle Ray would bring a lunch along to work, for both of us, but I preferred the sweet pastries and pies generated by the bakery. Uncle Ray Married Kathryn, while working in the shipyards. They lived in an apartment initially, on Mission Street in San Francisco, then, purchased a house on 263 Teddy Ave. in South San Francisco. The price of the home, at that time, was $6,500.00 with no money down and they agonized as to how they could meet the monthly payments of about $40.00/month. The same home sold for $95,000.00 when Ray’s estate was settled. Aunt Cathryn was probably a paranoid schitzophrenic most of her life and the entire family were concerned how Uncle Ray dealt with such a difficult situation, but he did, and stayed married until her death in a nursing home, remaining devoted to her. Aunt Kathryn was fond of alcohol and when intoxicated, was the life of the party. Uncle Ray had to hide his bottle of brandy in the basement which was his favorite drink along with beer. The brandy was available when I visited as an adult, and Uncle Ray and I toasted life and its positive happenings many times over the years. Aunt Kathryn never seemed to leave the house except for trips to her relatives in Napa or for trips to Reno, which apparently was her favorite. The game was KENO, and you were supplied with plenty of alcoholic beverages as long as you played. It goes without saying that every member of the family had a story of their relationship to Kathryn. All were devoted to Ray and each had to deal, at times, with Kathryn, who was a bit different, to say the least.

Chapter 2 1935-40

About this time (1935) my mother Grace, Married Clifford Webber and I moved from Fremont Street with Grandma Rosecrans to my new home with Clifford as my new father and a brother GERRY for the first time. Having a brother to play with was a big plus to me and we have remained good friends to this day. I visit Gerry and his wife Lillian frequently now out near Placerville, California. I do not remember this as being a negative. Once this relationship was established, I remember being responsible for a lot of chores around the house. I do not remember Grandma Rosecrans making many demands that way. We burned wood for heating and cooking, and for the wood kitchen stove they had what we called block wood which was a large load of wood which was the ends of boards cut off at the saw mill. They invariably dumped the load In the front of the house and it was Gerry and my responsibility to carry it around to a bin in the back and stack it neatly. This would be the ends of 2x4’s, 2x6’s, 2x12’s, etc. At that age, the load of wood looked like a mountain and it required several days to perform the work. The basement had a wood furnace and we stacked piles and piles of furnace wood for that. Clifford had a talent for finding endless supplies of firewood free. The cook stove and furnace seemed to have an endless appetite for wood and there had to be enough to last all winter. Klamath Falls is not above 10 or 15 below zero weather plus an abundance of snow. The house was a one bedroom, one bathroom, living room, dining room and kitchen, so Gerry and I slept on a couch in the living room. At that age having your own room was not even considered. We did not know any better. Clifford is alleged to have built this home by himself working evenings after a full day in the mill. It was on a hillside and included a full basement. I am glad I was not there for that project. Clifford seemed to have an inexhaustible amount of energy for projects!!!

History on Clifford Webber comes mainly from a short autobiography Clifford did for his granddaughter Melody. He was born in Denver Colorado. The family came across to California in a covered wagon when Clifford was about 4 years old. He remembers vaguely of there being a rumor Indians were raiding wagon trains in the area and the caravan prepared for the worst, but it never happened. Clifford’s father was a carpenter and builder by trade, so moved where there was work. They moved to southern California and worked there for awhile, but Grandpa Webber was restless and always looking for that rainbow that never happened. The story goes that he put his wife and children, 2 by then, on a boat that was supposed to get them to Oregon. Grandpa Webber took a wagon and horse, plus the family belongings and a rifle and 3 months later showed up in Oregon to be with the family and settle down. They are alleged to have lived in a tent for a couple years while a building was being constructed. Clifford grew up in this setting and did go to school to the 8th grade. He had a difference of opinion with the principal of the school and left education for good and went to work in the saw mills, logging camps, and whatever he could find. He grew up and eventually married Grazia, who apparently was a very strikingly beautiful woman at that time. They had 2 boys, Gerry and Dale, and divorce happened rather soon after this. Grazia took Dale and Clifford took Gerry. Clifford had started building the house on Johnson Street in Klamath Falls in the early 30’s before the divorce took place, but it was finished when Grace arrived in the scene in 1934-35. They met in Klamath Temple, the church attended by all the family in Klamath Falls, Oregon.

Clifford always included us boys in any work program. He decided to make what was called a BUSS SAW. It was a 30 inch circular saw on a round bearing and drive shaft. This was powered by a car engine. It was mainly designed for cutting wood up to 15 inches diameter, but I have seen portable sawmills in Kentucky with a similar saw blade for making lumber. Clifford built several of these as I recall. One plus of the whole deal was to get an engine. Clifford would take his set of tools and a battery out to the junk yard and for $5.00 actually drive home a car. We had 2 of them out front, a 1926 Chrysler 2 door and a neat Dodge sedan Touring Car, probably a 1924 issue, with the cloth top and short doors. These were fair game for kids to play in and we could take things apart if we wanted to as long as we saved the parts in case needed. There was a problem with tools, in that Dad’s tools were sort of a sacred entity and kids did not use them. This probably diminished the risk of us getting too aggressive taking apart the cars. As a product of this Gerry and I were fairly well versed in the mechanics of cars at an early age. We did a lot of car chases of cops and robbers in these 2 cars, parked one behind the other. To follow up on our car education, each September when the new cars arrived on the scene, Clifford would take Gerry and me car shopping, which was great fun because you got to try out the new cars and learn about them. Dad only bought one new car during this time, a 1937 ford sedan which was a lemon and he was soured on Fords for the rest of his life. To this day, my knowledge of the cars from the 20’s on; is legendary to my children and defined as awesome, the highest praise parents get these days.

The unpaved driveway was full of ruts in the spring after the snow melted and we hauled trailer after trailer full of red pumice gravel... The ruts were so deep that if you did not drive on top of them, the car would bottom out and you would have to jack it up to get going again. It was our job to fill in the ruts, or flatten them with shovel and pick, the best we could and spread the gravel appropriately. On another occasion Clifford decided he was going to build a rock garden. We traveled a long ways down in the Modoc Indian country to find just the right kind of rocks... They were very nice large flat rocks, but were so heavy we had to slide them up on the trailer using a steel bar leaned on the back of the trailer to get the rocks up from the ground into the trailer to haul home. Those rocks, so hard fought for, were never used. They were still out front when they sold the house. The house on the hill was a natural for sledding and Gerry and I loved that aspect.

There was lots of space around this house for kids to play and a graveyard about 50 yards behind the house. Included were plenty of bushes to facilitate Cowboys and Indians. Our best friend then was Dick Davis. Dick was a frequent playmate in all games played at that age. He had a sister Beverly who was probably a year younger than we, but she was welcome to play with us. She was willing to introduce us to the female anatomy at age 5 or 6. It was sort of a relationship of you can see mine, if I can see yours The act was secretive in the bushes and from our standpoint, sort of a disappointment, in spite of a rather complete examination on our part. We felt the stories from older boys, on the excitement of seeing naked women, was grossly exaggerated.

Trips to Susanville continued for me and Gerry was treated to a week or so with his mother Grazia and my other step brother Dale, whom I did not see much of. Dale would visit us and on these occasions things were upgraded, in that Clifford felt he should put his best foot forward, so Dale could report back positively and he would look at the visit as a good thing. At one time Clifford gave each of us 3 boys a dime for ice cream on one of Dale’s visits. This is the only time I can remember Clifford handing over cash to me or Gerry as we were growing up. Incidentally, Dale eventually became a career military man in the air force and after 28 years, was discharged as a Colonel in rank which speaks for itself. He died about 2 years ago of Parkinsonism and associated medical problems. He was chronically ill about a year before his death. Gerry was there to support him in the last days along with Dale’s 4 children. As the years went by, Uncle Ray usually sent me home with about 50 cents in hard cash and Gerry managed to generate about the same with his visit to Grazia and Dale. Gerry and I usually shared the loot on the return home. Cash at that age was rare and precious, so stored away carefully for a special occasion rather then spending it.

Food was basic, but always adequate. On one occasion Aunt Alice made a host of boiled ham sandwiches for me to take back with me on the train. I had never tasted anything quite as delicious as this, with real mayonnaise, lettuce, and so forth. A sandwich for kids then was peanut butter and jelly. I consumed as many of them as I could but came home with a rather generous supply. My mother confiscated the rest of the boiled ham sandwiches for Clifford and I never saw another one. Questions about the subject were sort of ignored like it is too complicated for a kid to understand.

Gerry and I both were going to Roosevelt Grade School about a mile from the house, at least, which we walked. No busses then. We went there until the middle of the 4th grade and then moved to Chiloquin Oregon. Gerry and I usually introduced ourselves as the Webber boys and when the birthdays were reported of April 18th for Gerry and May 12th for me, the authorities were astounded and remarked that they had never heard of such a prolonged labor and delivery. We really were not cognizant of the stepchild concept, so were no help explaining it but I think they figured it out eventually. I went through school under the name WEBBER until High School and some person picked up the fact that my name on the birth certificate was Leslie Ray Jacobsen. Eventually it cost me $150.00 to get legitimate adoption papers and I paid for it when I was getting $25.00 a month working the hospital in Medford later, after our time in Chiloquin.

At this time in my life, Klamath Temple was the church, the family all went to. I showed an interest in music at an early age and in the few years we lived there had memorized a high percentage of the Hymns in the song book, and could sing them with gusto. Grandma picked up on this and encouraged it to a point I was singing solos on the large platform of the church with hundreds of people in the audience. One of the hymns is still ingrained in my head: JESUS WANTS ME FOR A SUNBEAM which I could sing loud and clear enough for the large church. Microphones had not arrived yet. Following this, Grandma managed to find a violin and someone to give me lessons, so I had enough lessons on the violin that I could play a few songs. There was an orchestra that Grandma Rosecrans found for me to participate in, but I never became proficient enough to keep up