Autobiography of a Nobody

By Sherrill Lynn Dix

This book is about my nobody life. Many of the events written have happened to other people. It is really the way one handles these events that describes oneself. I try to stay in a happy mode most of the time. Wonderful and not-so-wonderful things have happened in my life as has in everyone. I still have those days when nothing helps my pity parties. We all have pity parties, but with the help of our dear friends and family, they can help us get past those days. When these people arent available, one needs to look to ourselves for that strength. After all, we actually are somebody.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Oct 29, 2013
• ISBN: 9781493118779

Sherrill Lynn Dix

Sherrill Lynn Derrenberger is my name, with the nickname of Sherry from my early childhood years, thanks to Dad. The name shown on the front is the name given me when born. This book has been wonderful therapy, not really understanding how, but it has been. A friend and mentor Iris Forrest, gave me confidence to follow through with it. Even if a manuscript doesn’t get published, one should try writing their thoughts. My life’s story hasn’t been that special, but only shows how I’ve dealt with the events in it. I am a nobody, but a somebody to those who love and understand me. We all need to love and understand ourselves.

Book preview

Chapter One of My Life

Iowa

I t all began in Waterloo, Iowa, after World War II. Roy and Esther Dix had moved from Missouri and were raising their two sons, Larry and Ronald. Employment opportunities were better, and several family members lived in the area. Esther was pregnant again, due in December of 1946. They both wanted a girl, and Roy told the doctor if he delivered another boy, he wouldn’t be paid. Sherrill Lynn Dix was the name given to me.

As a toddler, my brothers got into fights with other neighborhood boys, debating whose sister was prettier. That only lasted a short time. When I wanted to play cowboys and Indians with them, they yelled for Mom to come get me. We lived in a rental house on a corner with no fence. It had a large lot with apple trees and small hills.

After a heavy snow, Mom sometimes made us snow cream. As I recall, she removed the first several layers from the drift and took a large clump of snow from the center. She added sugar and cream, and we devoured it. On icy days, people actually skated to work on the streets rather than use their cars. Because Dad worked days, Mom did most of the snow shoveling. When it was deep, while shoveling the sidewalk, she would actually run into the neighbor shoveling theirs.

I had a big yellow striped cat. His name was Rusty. We had so much fun together. I put him on the end of my sled, and we rode down the hills in our yard. He was so protective of me. I remember a mean dog came in our yard, and I screamed. Rusty was inside but heard me yell. The screen door was on a spring, and he hit that door and slammed it against the wall. He got between me and the dog and backed him out of the yard, scratching his nose as he ran away, never to return.

Rusty loved catnip, and at Christmas, we hung a large sock with cat toys and snacks on the tree. Our family left one evening, and when we returned, Rusty was very happy. He had knocked down the Christmas tree and tore open his cat sock. He had opened the catnip box and was rolling around on top of it with catnip everywhere. I guess he couldn’t wait for Christmas morning.

One night we took my oldest brother to a friend’s home and, in returning, saw a yellow striped cat flattened on the street in front of our house. Dad took us in the house and went back to see if it was Rusty. He thought it might be, but we all went searching through the house. Dad went to the basement and called to him. No Rusty. He took the shovel from the basement and buried him at a nearby farm. My brother and I were on the phone crying to Mom at work when Dad came in. He opened the basement door to put the shovel away, and there was Rusty meowing at us. Phew! Dad met a neighbor down the street a few days later. He asked if he had seen a yellow striped cat. Dad said he gave him a good funeral.

*     *     *

Did your parents ever scare you with threats of something when not behaving? Mom told us to obey or she would call the rag woman. This rag woman took bad little kids and locked them in her basement. She had us so sure of this rag woman one time I walked with her to the drugstore and saw a fake makeup kit I wanted. She told me no, but I kept pleading. The warning about the rag woman came, but I wasn’t buying it.

When we returned home, I was still begging for that stupid fake makeup kit, so she grabbed the phone and started dialing. I just sassed her, saying she was just calling Aunt Clara, but I listened intensely. The first words said were Hello, rag woman? I still thought it was my aunt, so I took the phone. I heard this voice say, Are you being a bad girl? I threw the phone and screamed that I didn’t want the makeup kit anymore.

Another day, my brothers were walking in the alley behind our house. They noticed an old woman walking with a cane toward them. They frantically ran home screaming. I’m sure that poor woman didn’t understand why the boys were so scared of her. When we were grown, Aunt Clara finally admitted she was the rag woman. I have to admit, when I babysat for my younger brothers in later years, I used the same rag woman tactics, and it still worked.

*     *     *

A few times, Mom and Dad went out for a date night. This particular night, another couple joined them. Ms. Ellis came over to sit. She was a sweet older woman that had sat with us before. She also had been a nanny for different children over the years. Shortly after they left, the phone rang. Ms. Ellis got off the phone and called someone. We didn’t understand, but Aunt Clara came over. Ms. Ellis left, and Aunt Clara told us what had happened. Our parents were in a car accident and were in the hospital. She was going to stay with us for a while until they came home.

Several weeks went by, and we were excited for their return. When the door opened, we looked at them in horror. Ron ran to his room screaming. I was crying, and Larry was very upset. Mom and Dad were black and blue all over, with slings and casts on different arms. They were lucky to be alive. The drunk driver had been caught by the police, running away from the scene. After a while, they both started to heal, and our lives went back to normal.

As a toddler, I don’t remember a lot of my illness. Apparently, I had the three-day measles that settled in my liver, and I was taken to a hospital in another city. The final treatment was sulfur capsules. They were too large for me to swallow, so Mom opened them and mixed the medicine in with a dish of vanilla ice cream. It made the ice cream yellow, and I hated the taste. Not until I was an adult could I eat vanilla ice cream without chocolate syrup.

*     *     *

Larry and Ronnie loved playing pranks. Once at Halloween time, Larry told me to go hunt for Ronnie. He was hiding somewhere in the house.

After searching in the house, I went to the basement with Larry following behind. We had another full bathroom in the basement with a big shower stall. There were no windows, and Larry had disconnected the lights. He shoved me in and closed the door, pressing his body against it so I couldn’t get out. It was dark, and I was scared. He also had rubber spiders and other scary things hanging everywhere. I pushed the door so hard to get out Larry couldn’t keep me from opening it a bit. I was strong. When I looked back in, there was Ronnie scrunched under the sink. I wasn’t afraid anymore.

Another time, Larry and Ronnie played a prank on Mom. They bought a fake spilled-ink bottle and sat it down on the furry rug under the coffee table.

They told me to go to the basement where Mom was doing laundry and yell to her that there was spilled ink on the rug. She leaped up the stairs and gasped at seeing it from a distance. Then as she approached, she knew it was a fake. Both Larry and Ronnie got their bottoms warmed, and because they involved me in the prank, I did too.

Dad worked days for a railroad company. His job was refinishing, repairing, and reupholstering the passenger cars. Mom was a hostess and waitress on evenings at a nice country club. The other family members living in the area were mostly Dad’s kin and worked for the railroad and also Rath Packing Company. Mom’s sister Clara lived there too and met her husband while working at Rath Meats. Ronnie was very jealous of Uncle Warren at first. He had taken Aunt Clara away from us.

Mom wasn’t happy living in Waterloo and gave Dad an ultimatum. Either we move out of Iowa as a family, or she was taking the kids and going. Dad went to Toledo to find work, staying with family members. A short time later, he found a job with an upscale furniture store in downtown Toledo. He was hired as a furniture refinisher, painter, and craftsman.

Many of the furniture pieces were from Europe and other fine factories in the United States. When the store first opened, they had employees that made custom drapes and accessories.

Dad returned to Waterloo. We sold most of our belongings, said our good-byes to friends and family, and moved to Toledo. We spent the last night with Aunt Clara and Uncle Warren. Dad liked to drive at night, so we were awakened in the dark of early morning. It was pouring rain when the three of us kids climbed into the backseat of the 1949 Ford.

I really didn’t want to move because we couldn’t take Rusty. My parents knew a family that wanted him. Ms. Ellis told me several years later that she had seen him roaming around our old house looking for us. A short time later, she found him dead, hit by a car. I’m sure, he just gave up. To this day, I still cry when talking about it, even as I am typing this, and I might add, each time I edited this. Those ties we have with our animals are so crucial in our lives. Having pets is a wonderful way to show love as they give so much love to us. It’s so sad when they leave, but the memories of those treasured times are always with us.

Chapter Two of My Life

Toledo

A t first arriving, we rented a hole-in-the-wall apartment in Toledo. Being only six years old, I just remember the cramped sleeping quarters and the musty smells. We finally found another larger house to rent. The upstairs had room renters, and they had to come through our living room to go upstairs. It was inexpensive, and my parents were saving for a house. Those were fun years for me though. I started first grade, walking by myself a half mile down a busy street to school. The cartons of chocolate milk served at the school were delicious. That was the year of the Salk vaccine for polio. Before the sugar cubes, it was given by injection as all the kids lined up in the hall. We have to take the good things with the bad.

Our landlady was nice to Mom and Dad, and they stayed friends for many years. She and her husband had a young daughter with Down’s syndrome. She was funny-looking to me, as I had never been around a Down’s syndrome person before. When the landlady came over, she brought her daughter along. We played together, but at times, she was very rough with me. I felt sorry for her and knew she didn’t understand what she was doing. The landlady told my mother she appreciated me playing with her daughter. She always got excited when her mom told her they were coming to see us. I felt good about myself. It wasn’t difficult to show a little kindness, and I try to continue that approach always.

When I was in second grade, Mother was pregnant again. Early summer, before she delivered, Dad and brothers went with other family members to visit relatives in Missouri. While they were gone, Mom and I walked five blocks each day to the drugstore. They had a soda-fountain section, and we drank chocolate malts and walked back home. It was good for Mom to walk in her condition, and for some reason, it was calming for me. Just to be alone with Mom, without the rest of the family for that week, was a happy time. To this day, when I am upset about something, I go to the nearest Steak ’n Shake for my chocolate malt. I do, however, try to limit those visits. I’m sure everyone has those special happy-time memories.

The baby arrived mid-August. I wanted a baby sister, but when Dad came home telling us it was a boy, I cried my heart out. Mom had me as a helper, but the men in the family didn’t do a lot. I can’t remember Dad ever changing a diaper; however, I’m sure he did. A little jealousy was there because I wasn’t the baby anymore. Dad always had a little time to spend with just me and nicknamed me Sherry instead of Sherrill. That name stayed throughout my life. Even though I couldn’t legally sign Sherry, my business cards showed that name.

Mom bathed Philip in the large kitchen sink and dried him with a towel on the counter. I was asked to watch him after being put on the towel as she answered the phone. He was fussing, and when I stooped down to pick up a rattle that he had dropped, he fell on the kitchen floor. Mom dropped the phone and ran over to us. He was crying but, in checking, seemed all right. I felt so bad about being responsible for his fall. Later in life, I kidded him about it. I said at least it was just his head, with nothing in it, that hit the floor.

They saved for a house. What a change that was. I started third grade in a new school outside the Toledo city limits. A school bus took me, and the bus number was 8. That number and driver stayed the same all through my school years. He was a marine veteran from the