Jesus, This is My Story: A Memoir

By Pat Heilmann

"Jesus, This is My Story"

by Pat Heilmann

 

In "Jesus, This is My Story," author Pat shares a deeply personal story of heartache, hope, and resilience. The book begins with Pat's childhood memories and leads to the tragic death of her first husband in an accident shortly after the birth of their child. She shares her grief and the challenges of trying to conceive, due to her husband's radiation exposure at work.

After some time, Pat remarried a man with four children of his own. Together, they had a child and built a new life together. The memoir explores their blended family dynamics and the joys and struggles of raising their children.

In the 1970s, Pat's husband and his college musical performance group embarked on a tour of the Iron Curtain as Friendship Ambassadors. Pat joined them on the tour, and the memoir captures their experiences and the impact of this unique opportunity.

Throughout the memoir, Pat weaves in her Christian faith and how it sustained her through the ups and downs of life. She expresses her gratitude to Jesus for bringing two good husbands into her life and for the strength to overcome adversity.

This poignant and inspiring memoir is a testament to the power of love, faith, and the human spirit. It will resonate with anyone who has experienced loss and is seeking hope and healing.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Pat Heilmann
• Release date: Mar 9, 2023
• ISBN: 9798215764084

Pat Heilmann

Pat Heilmann is a Christian author and retired self-employed hairdresser who has written a poignant memoir of love, loss, and faith. "Jesus, This is My Story,'' traces her journey from childhood memories to the tragic death of her first husband, and her remarriage to a man with four children. The memoir captures their blended family dynamics, their experiences touring the Iron Curtain in the 1970s, and the role of the Christian faith in sustaining them through adversity. With a heart for sharing hope and healing, Pat's memoir is a testament to the power of love, faith, and resilience. She lives in Oklahoma with her family.

Book preview

Table of Contents

Cover

Copyright

Title

Dedication

Colorado to Oklahoma

Nathan

The Roustabouts

Iron Curtain

A Dream I Had The Night My Dad Passed

Mom's Accident

My Mother Had a Hard Life

Dreams

Being a Stepmother

Landmarks

Cover

While every precaution has been taken in the preparation of this book, the publisher assumes no responsibility for errors or omissions, or for damages resulting from the use of the information contained herein.

JESUS, THIS IS MY STORY: A MEMOIR

Second edition. March 9, 2023.

Copyright © 2023 Pat Heilmann.

Written by Pat Heilmann.

Jesus, This is My Story: A Memoir

Pat Heilmann

Published by Pat Heilmann, 2023

Dedication

I, Margaret Elaine (Pat) Stoddard McEntire Heilmann, dedicate this story to you, Jesus. You are the One that guided my path as I walked along these 84 years with You in my heart and when I stepped off Your path, You brought me back into Your will. Thank You for forgiveness and faith to believe the gospel that You, Jesus, were born of the virgin Mary, died on a cross shedding Your blood for our sins, were buried and on the third day arose from that grave. Thank You for the dreams You have given me and for guiding me in thoughts of things to say or do.

Colorado to Oklahoma

I was born in a log cabin constructed from railroad ties on December 16, 1938, in Cedar Ridge, Colorado. The snow was about three feet deep and Dad took a horse and buggy several miles through the snow to get my grandma, to assist with my coming into this world. I’m sure they were quite disappointed as I was the fourth girl in six years and joined my three older sisters, Elvira, Nina Leona, and Margaret. I was named after my Great Grandmother Maggie. As the years passed, I then had four younger brothers: Elmer, Clinton, Dorsey, and Charles. Mom always called the youngest Baby Charles. He is 70 years old now and we still call him Baby Charles – he just smiles.

1937. This is the house Pat’s dad (Ollie) built from railroad ties up next to a large mountain in Ceadedge, Colorado. From left to right: Nina, Flossie is holding Leona with baby Pat on the way, Elvira, and an unnamed girl.

In the place where I was born, Dad had to walk two or three miles through pasture and woods to hop on the train for a ride into town while it went slowly up a hill. He worked for the W.P.A. and as best I remember, they worked on roads.

In 1942 when I was four years old, Mom and Dad moved to Hotchkiss, Colorado. There were many peach and apple trees there along with an irrigation ditch that was about three feet wide and a foot deep. Mom had told us kids to never go out by this ditch. Well, never tell your kids not to do something, because that’s just what they will do when you are not watching. All four of us got into the water. I remember losing my footing and tumbling over and over in the swiftly running water, not being able to regain a footing. Finally, with the Lord’s help, I was able to stand. I coughed and coughed and even coughed up water. That was such a frightening experience and to this day, I am scared of the water.

Pat, first grade.

I started first grade at Hotchkiss. That summer before school began in the fall, my Mom told me that I had to learn to spell my name. I could already count to ten. She printed M-a-r-g-a-r-e-t. I counted those eight letters and told her that I couldn’t spell that many letters. A neighbor girl that I played with was named Pat, and I asked her if she could spell her name. She answered that she could, so I asked her how many letters were in her name. She said there were three. Well, I thought that was great! In 1944, a birth certificate was not required. One of my older sisters was going to take me to my teacher. However, I told her that I would just go with my friend, Pat, who was also going to be in the first grade. When we told the teacher our names, I said that my name was Pat Stoddard. I didn’t think Mom would find out. However, I didn’t think about the fact that that name would appear on my report card, so when I brought the report card home, Mom looked at it and assumed that I’d been given the wrong card. I told her it was no mistake and that that was my name, which they let me keep until 1947 when we moved from Colorado to Sapulpa, OK. Since I was going into the fifth grade, Mom determined that I was now old enough to spell my real name, Margaret, but I told my brothers and sisters to continue calling me Pat.

In those days Mom had a little red, white, and blue metal flag pin that we were not allowed to play with, but I thought it was so cute. For photo day at school, they instructed us to wear bright-colored clothing and mine was going to be a red blouse that I liked. My oldest sister told me that I couldn’t wear that since it had a little tear on the shoulder. I told her that I didn’t care about that and was still determined to wear the red blouse because I had planned to have Mom’s flag pin on the blouse for the photos. Just before the photographer took my picture, I took the little pin out of the box and asked him to pin it up high so as to be seen in the photo. I hadn’t thought far enough ahead to realize that I would be in trouble after showing Mom my school pictures. As I look back on that little red, white, and blue pin, I hadn’t realized at the time that I was so patriotic.

***

When we moved from Colorado to Oklahoma, Dad sold almost everything with the exception of a little bit of furniture, including mattresses, to make a truckload. We kids rode laying on the mattresses and thought that was a great fun adventure. We camped for a week in a park while Mom and Dad were looking for work and for a house to rent. We really enjoyed playing in the park and during our stay there, Mom cooked outside. But my youngest brother, Baby Clinton, cried the whole time just wanting to go home.

After a week, Mom and Dad found work in a glass factory. They then found a man that agreed to take our truck as a down payment on an 80-acre farm. My oldest sister then dropped out of school to work in a grocery store owned by our aunt and uncle. At about the same time, my next to oldest sister, Nina, had to quit school to take care of my three younger brothers so that it would be possible for Mom to work.

At that time, we had an outhouse and used the Sears catalog for toilet paper. Often we got into so much trouble for staying too long in the outhouse looking at toys in the remaining pages of the catalog!

We also had a water well from which we drew water with a long water bucket. We then poured it from the long bucket into a tin bucket that we kept in the house. We drank water from this bucket with a tin dipper. We also drew water from the well on Saturdays which Mom heated to wash our clothes using a scrub board. On laundry day, she also put on a pot of beans and made dinner rolls and cinnamon rolls.

Little brother, Charles, was born in this farmhouse in Bristow, OK in 1950. When I was in the 7th grade, Grandma came to stay to help Dad bring Charles into this world. It was getting late in the evening and Mom was laughing and cutting up. Suddenly she said, You’d better put the kids in the car until the baby is born! We were very excited at this news. Since we had homework to do, Dad turned on the dome light for us so we could see to work. There were five of us that went to the car to do homework. Nina, next to the oldest, about 15 years of age, was able to stay and help with the delivery. About an hour seemed to have passed when Nina came to get us and let us know that we had a baby brother. We all, except Elmer, a 4th grader, the oldest boy, climbed out of the car to meet our new little brother. He said that he wasn’t going in because he didn’t believe the baby was real. Sister Nina took him from the car and brought him to where mom and the new baby were so he could have a look. At first, he still wouldn’t look at the baby but later he asked if he had ears and eyes. Mom answered, Yes! Come on over here and see your new little brother! At this time