Janis

By Janis C. Nelson

Janis grew up in North Sacramento where neighbors were like family. When her parents divorced and sold their home, Janis learned to adapt to many different environments. She milked cows on her aunt's farm, attended a one-room schoolhouse and found the love of her life in a beautiful little town called Round Valley.

This book contains a kaleidoscope of cherished moments ranging from childhood memories to family history.

Janis and her husband, Ted, decided to "smell the roses" as they went along, so they saved up all winter in order to travel a week or two in the summer. They appreciate the opportunities to have seen many awesome things of beauty on their journeys like DaVinci's statue of David, The Hope Diamond and the Lincoln Monument.

Retirement is a gift of time to enjoy family, grandkids, yard sales and casinos. There are still places to see, so the traveling itch may need a little more scratching.

• Language: English
• Publisher: iUniverse
• Release date: Jun 29, 2011
• ISBN: 9781462009879

Janis C. Nelson

Janis lives in Redwood Valley, California with her husband, Ted. She retired after thirty years as a school secretary. Some of her favorite activities are traveling, wildlife photography and spending time with her grandchildren.

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Copyright © 2011 by Janis C. Nelson

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Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

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ISBN: 978-1-4620-0986-2 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4620-0987-9 (e)

Printed in the United States of America

iUniverse rev. date: 06/23/2011

I dedicate this book to my husband, sons, daughters-in-law and grandchildren. You have filled my life with joy.

Contents

Acknowledgments

Introduction

Prelude

Chapter 1 Beginnings

Chapter 2 My First Pets

Chapter 3 Friends and Neighbors

Chapter 4 Life Changing Events

Chapter 5 San Francisco

Chapter 6 Round Valley

Chapter 7 Willits

Chapter 8 Ukiah

Chapter 9 Redwood Valley

Chapter 10 Home at Last

Chapter 11 Animal Adventures

Chapter 12 The Folks and Don

Chapter 13 The 1970’s

Chapter 14 The Back Acre

Chapter 15 South Valley High School

Chapter 16 Pomo Lane

Chapter 17 Oh, The Places We Have Seen!

Chapter 18 Ted

Chapter 19 Ted’s Family History

Chapter 20 Jan’s Family History – The Maddens

Chapter 21 Jan’s Family History - The Sniders

Chapter 22 Bits and Pieces

Chapter 23 Dreams

Chapter 24 Heirlooms

Epilogue

Acknowledgments

Many thanks to my husband, Ted, for reading each updated version of my manuscript. Your suggestions were valuable contributions to my stories.

I appreciate the time and expertise Clifford Curtice spent on the final editing of my book. When Cliff, a retired college professor and friend since childhood, offered his services, I gratefully accepted. Thanks so much, Cliff.

The text on the book cover was designed by Carlos Ortega. Thank you, Carlos, for your creative touch.

Introduction

I titled my book Janis because it contains stories about my childhood and other moments in my life. I would love to read a book titled Sarah about my grandmother so it is my hope that my grandchildren will enjoy reading about adventures I experienced.

I believe that family stories are treasures so I decided to document some of the family history for the descendents to come.

I had an exceptional mother who turned hardships into adventures and created fun from almost any situation. Her enthusiasm for life was contagious and her positive attitude made life easier after we left the security of our home in north Sacramento. When we started our Nomadic lifestyle, her faith in God and love for me made this journey quite a bit smoother than it could have been. You will discover that her light shines through these pages.

Prelude

My mother had a dream before I was born and this dream is the beginning of my story.

The Dream

Vera Snider Teague

I was aware that I was undergoing a most unusual experience. A sense of freedom, peace, contentment, elation and joy seemed to mingle into such a feeling of happiness I had never known before. A beautiful glowing light seemed to suffuse all the landscape and to even be a part of it. Strange but lovely music was barely audible. This music made me think of whispering breezes, bird songs and the ripple of a brook; all the lovely sounds I had ever heard and loved.

It seemed I was slowly moving up a gentle slope but without effort. It was as if I were wafted along. Then I paused to turn around and survey the valley far below which extended to blend with the distant horizon. This expanse presented a view of breath-taking beauty.

A river wound its way through the valley. Its crystal waters reflected the radiant blue of the sky. The many shades of glowing green suggested many different kinds of trees. There were meadows of clover and grass and wild flowers of many kinds and colors. It was all pure and fresh.

Though there was no evidence of any habitation of man, I felt no sense of loneliness. Instead, I felt the confidence one has when he knows he is able to instantly summon the presence of anyone he might want.

It was with reluctance I turned from my survey of the valley to resume my journey. The beauty of the scene before me was almost more than I could bear.

I was standing in a vast field of glowing shasta daisies. As I made my way up the gentle slope I was aware of a figure coming toward me from the farther side of the field. As she drew nearer I could see she was a beautiful, glowing young woman. She was dressed in a gown of white, filmy material. It had puff sleeves, a round, low neck, fitted bodice and full flowing skirt. Around her waist was a blue ribbon sash. In her hand she carried a hat of the same material as her gown with a broad brim and flat crown around which was a blue ribbon that matched her sash.

Her brown curly hair, brushed back from her face, tumbled over her shoulders and down her back. The most remarkable feature of her pretty face was her lovely eyes glowing with love and humor below delicately arched brows.

When we drew near we were both laughing. It was such a happy time. We threw our arms around each other in greeting and then we sat among the daisies facing each other. As we started to converse, it seemed not at all strange that we were sending our thoughts to each other instead of speaking words in the usual manner.

The lovely maiden said, I am so glad that you are soon to be my earthly mother. I chose you from among many. Our lives will not be easy. We must face trials and some hardships. There will be many things to overcome, but we shall help each other, always.

At that time it seemed I understood. I could visualize her looking into the hearts of prospective mothers and being shown what her life would be like with each if she should choose to share that life. It gave me great joy to think that she would choose me from all of the others. I had a great desire to prove worthy of that trust.

Time didn’t seem to exist in this beautiful place, but I had strangely mixed feelings. I wanted to stay and be with her and felt sadness knowing this was not to be. I also felt a great surge of joy to know at last I was to have a daughter, and what a daughter she would be!

We arose to our feet. We smiled into each other’s eyes but knew we did not have to say goodbye. It seemed then I understood we were forever destined to be a part of each other’s life.

I awoke to a bright, sunny morning. It was February 28, 1937. The fact that the sun was shining this early in the morning at Arcata seemed as miraculous as my dream. I lie still for a few minutes remembering my dream and found I couldn’t dismiss it as just a fantasy. This was probably because I wanted so much to think it might become a reality.

Chapter 1

SKU-000459137_TEXT.pdf

Beginnings

November 25, 1937 fell on Thanksgiving Day and, instead of cooking a big family feast, my mother was in the hospital giving birth. I was born in Arcata, California. Mom was thirty-one and Dad was forty-three. Dad named me Janice Colleen Madden but the spelling was changed to Janis when I started school.

My very first memory was of Mom, Dad and my brothers sitting in a living room listening to a tall console radio. Their attention was focused on the story coming from this radio, so I kept myself busy playing on the two steps separating the living room and the dining room. I must have been about two. This was the only house I remember before our family moved into our little home in north Sacramento.

Our family had a history of moving often. It was very unusual for them to settle in one place for any length of time. This changed when Dad worked for a man who, instead of paying him with money, gave him the equity in a little one-bedroom house in north Sacramento. Our family moved into this house on Twelfth Street around 1939 or 1940.

I was sitting in a high chair in the dining room of our north Sacramento home and Mom was cooking in the kitchen behind me. Dad and his friend were sitting at the dining room table, talking. Mom set a bowl of cereal in front of me and I remember thinking it would be fun to put it on my head, which I did. The contents oozed down my face and it felt so icky I started to bawl. Dad and his friend started laughing at the mess I had gotten myself into, which made me yowl even louder. Mom quickly cleaned up the mess, comforted me and made my world right again. This was my first memory at our north Sacramento home.

My dad’s full name was John Alvin Madden but everyone called him Jack. As a young man he had an abundance of thick, auburn hair. He told me that he broke several combs when he tried to run them through his hair. By the time I came along, his hair was mostly gray and very sparse.

Dad, at six feet tall, looked huge to me. When Dad’s brother Howard came to visit, I was amazed how small Dad looked when he stood next to his towering brother. This was amusing to me.

Dad was a carpenter and occasionally had to travel to where the work was. He was a good dad to me and would spend time teaching me card games, how to dance, and he even took me fishing. He was fun to be around.

Mom took me with her when she picked up Dad from work one day. We were a little early so I was able to spot him on the second floor of a building under construction. I saw him heave several long boards onto his shoulder and walk across a very narrow beam, high above the ground. I held my breath until he safely reached the other side. This was frightening to me but just a routine part of Dad’s job.

The tips of two fingers on Dad’s right hand were missing; he had several stories about how that had happened. He said he had worn down the fingers by pushing quarters over the bar paying for his beer. Another story he told was about the time he was in an all night banjo-playing contest and he played his fingertips right off. I finally discovered what really happened: when he was about twelve years old, he and some other boys were playing with dynamite caps they had found. They were throwing the caps which would explode when they hit the ground. When Dad picked up one of the caps, it exploded in his hand before he could throw it.

Mom was such an amazing person; it is difficult to capture her essence with words. Mom had beautiful and expressive brown eyes. The color could change from a soft brown to a piercing, almost black, depending upon her mood. She was enthusiastic, loved to learn, and when she told a story she would often leap to her feet and become part of the scene she was describing. She was an excellent mother who always made me feel loved and treasured. All three of her children inherited her positive outlook on life.

Jacky, my older brother, was twelve years older than I, and always seemed like one of the grown-ups. He was a towering 6’ 3" tall. At the age of four years, I was the same height as his legs. Jacky would sing funny songs, tell me riddles and jokes and usually had me laughing at something silly he would say. Jack inherited Dad’s hazel/green eyes as did I.

Jacky spent most of his time working and going to school so I didn’t get to see him much. I remember one time we were having pancakes for breakfast. I told Jacky that I thought it would be funny if I threw a pancake in his face. He said that if I did, he would spank me. I thoughtfully weighed my options, gauged the distance to the door and was positive that I could throw the pancake and dash out the door before he could catch me. My plan worked perfectly except that he didn’t stop at the door. My heart pounded as I ran up the street as fast as I could, all the while hearing Jacky’s big feet coming closer and closer behind me. I felt a swat on my bottom and I started to howl; more from humiliation than pain. The lesson that I got from that experience was when Jacky told me he would do something, he really would do it.

Don was ten and a half years older than I. I also considered him one of the big people. I didn’t get to see him much either except for one summer when he didn’t have a job. He spent a considerable amount of time lying in the sun. I recall the day he asked me to fix him a glass of Ovaltine so he wouldn’t have to get up. I refused. He then promised that if I made him a glass of Ovaltine, he would buy me a pony. That promise got him many glasses of Ovaltine. I’m still waiting for my pony.

Don had brown eyes like our mother.

We spent some summer months at a mountain cabin near Dad’s job. I was about three years old. My brothers caught a porcupine and put it in the bathroom of our cabin. I was told not to open that door but when no one was around for a moment, I couldn’t resist a little peek. Luckily the creature didn’t escape before I slammed the door shut. He gnawed and scratched the bathroom walls and door doing his best to escape. The boys finally realized they had better return him to where they had found him before he could do any more damage to our rented cabin. They wrapped him in blankets, took him back to the woods and set him free. Long after this summer was over we were still finding quills in the blankets the boys had used.

Mom told me that around ages