A Good Beginning

By Cece Poister

Growing up in a small town in the '50s and '60s provided time to play outside all day, and your parents never worried. This also provided many fun and sometimes scary adventures. Eight brothers and sisters in one household also provided another great collection of tales to be told, as did being the first female in an all-male cargo world. All the stories are true and range from humorous to scary, sad, poignant, and just plain crazy. They cover over seventy years of adventures from early childhood, marriage, and working women. I would like to say a special thank you to the two women who helped make this book possible: Rita Hoepp and Velma Saire. They edited, suggested changes, and asked questions to get the story better.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Christian Faith Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Jan 12, 2022
• ISBN: 9781639616213

Book preview

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A Good Beginning

Cece Poister

ISBN 978-1-63961-620-6 (paperback)

ISBN 978-1-63961-621-3 (digital)

Copyright © 2021 by Cece Poister

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods without the prior written permission of the publisher. For permission requests, solicit the publisher via the address below.

Christian Faith Publishing, Inc.

832 Park Avenue

Meadville, PA 16335

www.christianfaithpublishing.com

Printed in the United States of America

Table of Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Beaver, Pennsylvania, was a great place to grow up in the ’50s and ’60s. Everyone knew each other, played outdoors most days in the summer, went sledding in the winter, swimming pool in the summer. Time to go home was when the streetlights came on. On nice days, we would pack a lunch and hike off into the woods and come home at dinner time. Chores were assigned, and no one got paid; you just did it. I had wonderful parents who taught us well. A few words about my parents and then my stories…

Mom and Dad

As I look back, we were not rich, but I never felt poor. One of my parents’ mantras was, You are no better than anyone else, and they are no better than you. They lived their life that way by example. To best understand my parents, you need to know how different their childhoods were. My mom grew up on a farm, and my dad’s parents had live-in maids. Here is how I would describe my mom and dad.

Mom

It is hard to capture all I feel about my mom. She was the second youngest of eight in a fun-loving Catholic Irish family and grew up on a farm in Clearfield, Pennsylvania. Both her parents immigrated from Ireland at an early age. She taught us much and did it with humor, grace, and discipline. When I remember her, all her adages about life come to mind. Idle hands are the devil’s workshop, was one she often used. If we whined about nothing to do, she found us something to do, such as sweep the floors, peel the potatoes, fold the laundry, or change a diaper. We learned to stay busy doing what we did best—playing outside with our friends. (This could explain why I am always bored doing nothing.) She learned to tap dance; play the piano, organ, and banjo; skeet shoot; play bridge; type sixty words a minute, and do the New York Times crossword puzzles in less than an hour. She must have played Monopoly, Go to the Head of the Class, checkers, chess, old maid, and every other kids’ game at least five hundred times each. The cool part about Mom was that she always played to win. There was no giving a kid a wink and a break to let him or her win. When we finally won a game, we were elated and knew we had truly won. Another of her adages was, Cry and you cry alone. Laugh and the world laughs with you. She allowed no pity parties. If we felt like we did not have a certain toy or clothes, she reminded us of all we did have that others did not. She had a grand sense of humor and did not take too much seriously, as will be seen in some of my stories. She loved my dad, loved us, and loved a good time. As adults, we never, ever left the house without a hug, a kiss, and an I love you. Her lessons were not lost on me, and I have tried to parent in the same manner.

Dad

My dad was the second youngest of five, two boys and three girls. His father owned a coal mine and was married to a woman many considered the prettiest in the county. My dad graduated college as an engineer and promptly went into the Army as an officer, since he was in the officers’ training program in school. Before he left for World War II, he and mom had a quick wedding and honeymoon. He went off to fight the war, and my mom realized she was pregnant with me. I was a honeymoon baby. His war service had a huge impact on my dad and how he viewed and lived life. He saw poverty, hunger, generosity, and death. After the war, he had trouble sleeping in thunderstorms, thinking it was bombs bursting. Thankfully, that did not last longer than a year. He remained in the Army reserves after the war. This was good extra pay, and as he often said, It is the car payment. I think he also liked the comradeship of the other veterans. His talents were many.

He could repair just about anything in the house, build furniture and storm windows from scratch, lay hardwood floor, and had a huge collection of tools for every job. As the oldest, I got to assist in many of the projects. He was the one who taught us how to us make our beds with army corners, which I still do today. All jobs in our house were assigned by age, not gender. My dad had no idea how far ahead he was in bringing up girls to be strong and independent. He had a grand sense of humor. He would greet new boyfriends with his glasses on upside down to see if they would comment (most were too afraid to). He let us know how much we were loved and spent weekends taking us on adventures to the zoo, airport, and other interesting places. He did this without Mom to give her some time to relax. He also loved