Till We Meet Again

By George L. Brocklehurst

April 2, 2009, Carol Brocklehurst passed away after a long,
crippling siege with gout, rheumatoid arthritis and emphysema.
Her unexcelled sense of humor, sincerity and continual positive
attitude impacted family members and friends impelling them to
enthusiastically face the trials of t heir own life with confifidence and optimism. Sixty years of happy marriage in these times of increasing divorce rates prompted George Brocklehurst to write this story of his and Carols steadily growing love for each other. This humble tribute to his love for Carol tells the story of times of sadness as well as times of triumph,joy and thanksgiving.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Sep 23, 2010
• ISBN: 9781453578926

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

A Soft Whisper

Carol Evelyn Jueckstock Brocklehurst died at 7:25 PM April 2, 2009 at the age of 83 years, 4 months, 21 days. She had adopted the Brocklehurst name August 14, 1948 when she married George Lindsey Brocklehurst on that hot August night. I, Lindsey Brocklehurst, wrote my mission diary several years ago but now I think it is high time I attempt to remember some of the events of our wonderful 60 years of married life together.

You will think that 60 years is a long time. The years fly by much too rapidly, though. However, Carol’s and my only regret is that we wish we had been married earlier. Our life together was a wonderful adventure as our love for each other became ever stronger and deeper. Throughout this narrative I will recall in the first person but underlying every recollection you must remember that Carol continues to be an ever-present driving force in my life and in my precious memories of our shared experiences. Though she has been called home, our life together has conditioned me to continue to think first of her on all occasions.

A few of my recollections have been written in my Mission Diary but for the sake of continuity some will be repeated here. Where should I begin? How was I attracted to Carol? Where did we meet? What were my first impressions? When did I know she was the girl for me? I’ll try to recall and share my memories with you.

I celebrated my 17th birthday February 2, 1941. I was a high school senior then, not interested in girls at all, determined to enter Wayne University in the fall in the Pre-Medical course of study. Mom was determined that I would be a medical doctor and I thought I would like that in spite of the rigorous, long course of study ahead of me.

I enrolled at Wayne University in September 1941 and was thrilled but a little overwhelmed by the intensity of the studies. I was active in the Young Peoples Society in the Detroit Christian and Missionary Alliance Church. Most of my spare time was devoted to helping publish the Youth Group newspaper. My first investment from my meager earnings as a packer in an A&P store was to purchase a Royal typewriter on which I taught myself to type by the touch method. My newly-acquired typing skill made me the chief typist and mimeograph operator for the youth group newspaper. By the way, I had learned to operate the mimeograph in the eighth grade where I was in charge of printing the Ruddiman School newspaper. At this time, in 1941, I wasn’t aware that Carol was around. There she was, though, in the background, my sister’s best girl friend.

Have you ever pondered how your path just happens to cross with that of another person, like ships that pass In the night? There Carol and I were, paths crossing but unaware of the eventual consequences of that contact. I went my merry, unconscious way until the young fellows’ annual Thanksgiving Day football game. I loved to play football and after the Thanksgiving morning service went merrily to Belle Isle to play. I was totally unaware that Carol was among the several young ladies watching the game. After the game, Carol and her sister, Naomi, joined my sister, Ruth, as Dad drove us home. We dropped the Jueckstock girls off at their home along our way home. I was still enveloped in recalling some of the key plays of the football game, still paying no attention to Carol.

A few days later, early in December, Ruth casually remarked that Carol was interested in me and followed up with the remark that Carol had always liked me. Well, that did it. I remembered that Carol and Naomi had sung a couple of times in church. Hmmmm? They were pretty good too. Toward the end of December Wayne University and the University of Detroit were playing a double header basketball game in the Olympia Stadium. I asked Ruth if Carol might be interested in going to that basketball event. I thought Ruth would jump out of her shoes. Trying to subdue her elation, Ruth casually said, I think so in a sort of noncommittal manner.

When I called Carol, she hesitated a little before agreeing that she would like to go to the game, probably to cover the thrill of being asked; or is that my ego speaking? Maybe she wasn’t thrilled at all. At this time I was working weekends as a cashier in an A&P Supermarket and arranged to be out of work by six o’clock that Saturday. Wouldn’t you know that the day turned out bitter cold with a steady sleet. Well, I had never taken the car alone, let alone on icy roads—Dad was too conservative to allow that—but Mom persuaded Dad that I would be able to manage the car OK in spite of the terrible driving conditions. Ever present in my memory is the picture of me waiting in the living room as Carol walked out into the adjacent dining room. She was fussing nervously about her jacket and I think I fell in love with her right then. Carol and I watched the games intently, perhaps even brushing hands from time to time. I don’t know how the games turned out and doubt that Carol did either. All I know is that I had a wonderful time. After the game we negotiated the slippery sidewalks and sat in the car waiting for the parking lot to clear, actually shivering in the cold until the car heater warmed us up. No, I didn’t throw my arms around her. However, I did gently put my hand under her chin, lift her head and gently kiss her lips. That sealed my fate. From then on, my goal was to win Carol. I really didn’t know that she had already been won. Those two ships didn’t pass in the night; we were drawn together like two magnets. Our dates were few, though, until summer vacation time because of my heavy load of work and study. As I pulled out of the parking lot my left foot on the clutch jumped nervously; I was really in a high state of tension. Yes, we made it safely home over those icy Detroit streets, not even a close call to mar our perfect evening.

The winter months of 1942 were very busy. War was declared on Japan after their attack on Pearl Harbor December 7th and daily news was uppermost in every person’s mind. Reaction in many parts of the country was one of panic as many people rushed to black out windows and to prepare for air attack that fortunately never materialized. Life went on pretty much as usual, though, for us. Carol and I enjoyed attending Detroit Tiger baseball games and Detroit Red Wing hockey games as well as walks along Tireman to Grand River for an ice cream sundae or soda at the Saunders Ice cream parlor on Grand River. We always had a wonderful time together. We really didn’t have to do anything special, we just enjoyed being together. Sometimes we stopped to watch lawn bowling at the Italian club on Grand River or baseball games at Northwestern High School athletic field.

Sunday School picnics for Central Church were usually held in River Rouge Park in July. I remember the 1942 Sunday School picnic. Carol and I managed to shut out other people that afternoon as we walked through the various paths in the park. Finally, we sat on the hillside overlooking the site of the picnic watching the many activities. We were just sitting there quietly when Carol leaned over to my ear and almost inaudibly whispered, I love you. I can hear that as vividly as if we were still sitting there on that hillside. I was completely taken by surprise and totally overcome. I loved her dearly and it was reciprocated! If I wasn’t captivated before, I certainly was now. I floated high in the fleeciest clouds all that afternoon and every day since.

I expected to work as a cashier in the A&P supermarket again the summer of 1942 but when I approached the manager he said there was no job there for me. Through a friend at church I was hired by Industrial Sheet Metal to work there as a welder’s helper. Actually, that was for the best because It more than doubled the amount of money I could earn and also left all week end free for Carol and me to enjoy. The work was heavy and dirty. I was picked up at 6:00 A.M. by Howard Frazier as he passed our street on his way to work. He had to report earlier than I so I had to loaf around for about a half hour every morning before my time to begin work. I rode the street car home in the evening and sometimes I would fall asleep and barely awake in time to get off at my stop.

Belle Isle on Detroit’s east side was our favorite haunt. We were frequent canoe renters. We would arrive at the park early on a Saturday, rent a canoe for the day, and paddle the lagoons all day. We could stop for refreshments if we were hungry but you know as well as I that we needed no food. We were too much absorbed in each other. Another favorite was attending the weekly Detroit Symphony Orchestra concerts on Belle Isle. Our favorite was the one in the Masonic Temple of Die Fledermause. The afterglow of that one lasted several years.

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One Saturday we went to Bob-lo Island for the day. The Bob-lo boat dock at that time was at the foot of Woodward avenue. In this picture you see the Bob-Lo boat at the dock on Bob-Lo Island. We eagerly reached the dock for the first departure in the morning. We stayed on the island all day exhausting my limited supply of money on the rides and roller skating for several hours in the rollerdrome. Roller skating was a favorite activity for both of us. Finally, as evening approached we went to the head of the line to wait for the Moonlight boat. We wanted to be sure to board the boat early so we could find good seats on the second or third deck at the rear of the boat. We were a little apprehensive when we saw that the boat seemed to be full as it approached the dock. Our apprehension grew to alarm when very few riders got off the boat. Then an announcement was made that there wasn’t room for any of us to board and that another boat was being sent from Detroit.

Glancing at my watch, I knew we could be in trouble. Quick mental calculation told me that the last bus to take us to Carol’s house may leave downtown Detroit before we would arrive. No use fretting about that. We would cross that bridge when we came to it. Might as well enjoy the thrill of the Moonlight ride. Arriving at the dock, we rushed off the boat and ran the three blocks to the bus stop. We fortunately made the last bus at 2:00 AM just as it was leaving. I walked Carol up to her house and turned to walk to the street car stop to ride home when Carol’s mom stepped onto the porch and told me that I would stay there for the night and that my folks would stop by in the morning on their way to church to bring my Sunday clothes. We often reminisce about that unforgettable night.

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In July Carol and my sister Ruth went to Beulah Beach, Ohio with other young people from the church for a week-long summer camp. Carol was out in the sun too long on Thursday and had such a severe sunburn that she was sick in bed all day Friday. Jack Jueckstock, Carol’s brother, and I had to work that week at our respective jobs but went to Beulah Beach after work on Friday evening to stay for the week end. We didn’t arrive until after bed check time but went to stand outside the girls’ dorm busily slurping on a bottle of orange crush just to irritate the girls, Carol and Ruth, who were looking out their second story dorm window. I couldn’t resist teasing Carol that there was no need for lights in their room because her brilliant red skin would glow enough to supply plenty of illumination. This picture was taken Saturday as Carol and I enjoyed a few minutes at the beach. I have always treasured this picture.

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All too soon, I was back In Wayne University classes. Even more demanding now as a sophomore, the classes required serious commitment and hours of study. They sliced our time together to a minimum. Although she sometimes expressed a mild complaint, Carol endured times when I had activities with my Sunday School class of boys. I often think of how hard that must have been for her but she never complained bitterly although she did comment wistfully that she wished we could spend more time together. I walked the two miles daily from Wayne University to the A&P parking lot where I would wait in the car for Dad to finish his work. Almost daily, I found time to substitute writing a lengthy note to Carol for studying as I should have been doing.

About the middle of October I realized that I was going to be drafted soon for I would be 19 years of age in February and surely l would join all the other physically able nineteen-year-olds who were drafted prior to their nineteenth birthday. My friend, Bernard Gambka, had already received his notice and he was only a month or so older than me. We took the street car from home to Redford Receiving Hospital for our pre-induction physical. After returning home, we met several of our high school friends for a couple of bowling games. One day I spied a small notice in the paper that a person could volunteer for induction to be enlisted as a Meteorology Cadet and placed in a college training detachment. I called to learn the requirements and submitted my credentials. Soon I was sent the usual greetings letter within instructions of when and where to report. I was too keyed up to feel bad, but I sympathized with Carol’s sadness and did all I could to ease the pain for her. The rest of this is in my mission diary. These were eventful, unforgettable times.

Ruth has often joked with Carol about Carol’s and my dates. We were seldom alone. The roller derby games were played in the Detroit Olympia that summer and we attended many of them. However, when we went to watch the roller derby games Carol’s sister Naomi, her brothers Jack and David and my sister Ruth went with us. Carol’s house was only a mile or less from the Olympia so the gang of us walked happily along Tireman to Grand River then to the Olympia for the game. We had a wonderful time together and Carol and I weren’t bothered at all by being accompanied by a crowd.

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Summer of 1948, after graduation from Wayne University with a Bachelor of Arts degree in Education, I worked nights on the Vroom Produce Docks loading five semi trailers a night. My partner and I were able to load our trailers efficiently and effortlessly and had usually finished in ample time to help other teams who weren’t as fast. I enjoyed that work but eagerly looked forward to our wedding date and the beginning of my new career. I stopped by Carol’s house every night on the way to work and on my night off we were busily engaged with plans as well as taking time for a walk or something. Sometimes on Saturday morning at the end of our shift on the produce dock my partner and I would volunteer to work on the bread dock to load the bread that was late. I had often accompanied Dad to a special work assignment so I knew my way around the bakery. I showed my partner how to find the cripples (damaged but still delicious baked goods) and the coffee so we could feast on that while waiting for the bread to be ready.

Carol and I went to the ten acres in Clarkston on several occasions for a Saturday picnic. We would take food to cook on the stone fireplace then set the table for a private dinner in anticipation of a wonderful life together. Carol was already an exceptional cook and I just enjoyed being with her for the day. On this particular occasion Carol used the outdoor fireplace for the first time to prepare our food then proceeded to set the table while I busied myself with chores around the property.

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