Noreen Blakeley Evans
Noreen Blakeley Evans born March 3, 1929
William Blakeley
Jean Connor Blakeley
William Blakeley
Jean Connor Blakeley
In the Beginning
You ask how your grandmother and I met. Well, grab a chair and gather around.
The story begins one beautiful day. Sunday, in fact, long, long ago in the year 1945.
Back in those days, in New York City, the Madison Hotel featured a Sunday brunch...sometimes called a tea dance...very elegant. For reasons best known to them, your Grandfather Blakeley and Uncle Wow (Roy Dye) who were colleagues at Bankers Trust Company, thought it would be a swell idea to introduce daughter Noreen and step-son Jack. The Madison Brunch would be where this historic event occurred.
The Blakeleys had moved not long ago from Grosse Point, Michigan to Bronxville, NY. My home was Lancaster, Pa.
So on the appointed day, into my blue suit and in the company of Mimi and Wow, we taxied to the Madison Hotel. For my part, this was not done reluctantly, for at 16, I was well aware of girls. Having grown up with the Lancaster talent, at this point, they were all more like sisters.
On the other hand, your good looking, vivacious 15 year old Grandmother had just parachuted into Bronxville and had "taken the junior set by storm." So, as I learned later, she was not anxious to come into NYC to meet a boy from Pennsylvania Dutch country, but did so under severe threat from her parents.
To the beat of a "Lester Lanin" band, your Grandmother swept in. WOW! A good looking, New York girl. Actually, with my "pompadour" and credentials as Lawrenceville senior, I was not shy. We danced and talked.
Now kids, here comes the incredible part of Act 1 of this play.........A gypsy fortune teller came to the table, swished tea leaves in a cup and announced, "you two will get married some day".
Nervous giggles and a retreat to the dance floor, where I hoped to impress your Grandmother (a couple of years back I had won the tango contest at dancing class). It was during a slow fox trot that I popped the question, "will you come to the Lawrenceville Senior Prom with me". I've forgotten how long it took for the answer, by mail, I guess, "yes, if I can bring a friend".
She came and she did. As was the custom, the Seniors moved out of Upper and their dates moved into their rooms. Good time was had by all, dancing to Harry James, etc. The next day after saying our goodbyes, I returned to our suite, and quickly discovered that all the dresser drawers had been turned upside down, beds pied and perfume sloshed over everything. It took weeks for the air to clear.
For the next several years, we kept in touch with some mailed literary masterpieces and occasionally getting together. On one of these occasions, your Grandmother invited me to be one of her four attendants at her coming out party. It just so happened that New York suffered the largest snowstorm, perhaps in its history. But the party went on and your intrepid Grandfather made it from Lancaster. Those from nearby couldn't. So, I had her all to myself, and earned substantial brownie points.
Well, we're being called to lunch. If you want me to, I'll tell you more afterwards.
Next: The War and Marriage
War and Marriage
OK......So where were we....oh, yes.....now let's skip to 1950.
Both your Grandmother and I have had our "Grand Tours" of Europe and are now back in NYC working, me in the management training course of the Hanover Bank and Grammy as a buyer for one of the finer department stores. Both of us share apartments in midtown with two other friends--mine on 52nd Street Street and hers on Madison Avenue.
We began seeing each other. At a salary of $55 per week for me, our outings were fairly simple; although from time to time we saw Broadway shows at $7 for "standing room only." Usually by the end of the first act we had made friends with the ushers and were seated in the orchestra.
The relationship became more serious as time went by. It was not without its bumps, as the time, for example that I invited her over for spaghetti dinner which I would cook (yes, me) and she arrived to find a pile of socks (argyle, etc.) that I wanted her to darn.
All this time, the Korean War was in the background. While I was abroad, apparently the Lancaster Draft Board was looking for me. When I got back to NYC, I wasted no time in joining the New York Air National Guard's 52nd Fighter Wing with the help of a family friend, Col. Sarkesian, who said if we were ever activated, we would stay and defend NYC. I was put in the last remaining opening...Airman First Class, Medical Group, Administration. Weekend drills in White Plains was a small price to pay and allowed the continued courtship of your Grandmother.
With a three month notice, however, we were activated and assigned to Strategic Air Command's 106th Bombardment Wing at March Air Force Base, Riverside, California and Col. Sarkesian resigned. On the appointed day, rolled up to Floyd Bennet Field, Brooklyn in a very large limo with Mimi and off to California I flew with the Group.
So, your Grandmother in NYC and me at March Air Force Base...no cell phones, no text messaging, and phone calls prohibitively expensive. But, as time permitted, occasional phone calls supplemented letters. Naturally, I was lonely. It was after basic training that I called Grammy and invited her to come out and visit. Remember, these were different times. Grammy said "no". After checking with my commander, I called the next night and proposed....which led to a "yes".
I had only five days accumulated leave, so the wedding would have to be in Riverside. Now, Riverside was a lovely old city. Coincidentally, the mayor's wife happened to be an old friend of the family in Lancaster. Mrs. Evans (her name) and the mayor were wonderful. March Air Force was called the country club of the Air Force for a good reason. No rain, so flying the B27's was never a problem.
Mrs. Evans and I made all the arrangements for a wedding on June 16th at the historic Mission Inn...an old Spanish chapel moved to the Inn. Quite beautiful (Dick and Pat Nixon were married there). Reception, rooms and the 1001 elements of the wedding were all put in place. Also, a nice small apartment was rented on a leafy old street in Riverside.
So, out drove your great grandmother, Nana, and the future bride. Mimi, who had bought the ring for $40 and Uncle Bill flew out as did your great grandfather, Gramps. Friends from the Unit, including Tucker Smith from Lancaster, were invited. The bride and groom had several sessions with the Chaplain, a wonderful guy.
As Grammy will tell you herself, the night before the wedding, Nana, called her into the room, shut the door, then gave her this piece of advice "get the checkbook early." She did and actually from my standpoint (and yours) , it has been a great arrangement. Better though if she raised my allowance!
The Mission Bells rang out at 6 o'clock across the valley...nervous...in fact every day we lived in Riverside, at 6:00 I found that I had sweaty palms....At any rate, Uncle Bill pushed me in and the rest was pretty much a blur, except for the lovely bride.
The historic chapel with all of its gold reflected the candlelight. Nobody could have asked for a more beautiful setting and ceremony led by our chaplain. Afterwords we enjoyed a marvelous reception arranged and decorated by Mrs. Evans.
Well, the time came to leave the festivities and off we went in the Buick (wedding present) to a resort in San Bernadino Mountains, about 1/2 hour away. I drove and the new Bride navigated. After well over an hour, we rounded a curve and were met with a sign "WELCOME TO THE MOHAVE DESERT". That was the first evidence that your grandmother is directionally challenged.
Retraced the route and found the mountain resort. The Groom signed in "John Evans" at which the point the desk clerk pointed to your grandmother clutching her bridal bouquet and asked "So, who's that?"
Lake Tahoe, San Francisco and back.....we had little money but had a memorable time.
Back in Riverside, your Grandmother with her retail background, worked in a local store. My job on the base essentially was handling personnel administration for the unit....with Saturday parades. We acquired a black cocker spaniel, "Sambo" who was really our first born. During the week, he would come to the Base and frequently on Sundays he would go with us to the beach.
The 106th Medical Group was probably one of the brightest units in the USAF. Everyone was a college graduate and almost all were of the Jewish persuasion in Brooklyn. Great Guys. Think MASH and the sense of humors. I didn't know until much later that when my number came up to go overseas, one of them would volunteer to go in my place because I was married.
Frankly, Grammy and I could not have had a better year...all on our own in very pleasant circumstances.
Called to active duty for two years, after 18 months the Korean War was winding down and we were given the opportunity of deactivation. Grammy was carrying Anne and I opted out. Home to Brooklyn she went, me following in a couple of weeks.
Well, kids that all for now. Maybe more later.
Corkey
March 3, 2009 was a wonderful evening. I was very pleased to be part of the celebration of your 80th birthday.
I do not mean to rub it in, turning 80 that is, it is just that I am surprised that the people from Oil of Olay have not already dispatched a flock of scientists to Falmouth Me...to study your secret on aging.
But I digress; it was a very happy evening which is typically the case when we are sitting around a table with you present. I know this sounds corny but I feel compelled to say it. I feel blessed to have you as my mother-in-law. I truly drew the long straw on that one.
Happy birthday and here is wishing you many, many more.
Corkey
The Easy Way or the Hard Way?
Many would not think of my mother as the mountaineer type. Yet you may be surprised to find out that she conquered the tallest peak with the worst weather in the northeastern United States. Books have been written about those who have perished trying to climb this mountain. Until recently, this infamous peak was the location of the all time highest wind velocity ever recorded on the surface of the earth, 231 mph! That’s right, we’re talkin’ Mt. Washington.
As part of annual summer vacation in New Hampshire, my father would plan outings for the family. For the record, I don’t think we got to vote on the proposed outings. This particular summer he decided it was time for the family to climb Mt. Washington. Being the considerate type, he planned that Mom would ride the Cog Railway up, and Anne, he and I would meet her at the summit.
On the appointed day, we arrived at the Cog Railway station at the bottom of the mountain. Pictures in brochures of the time didn’t do the Cog Railway justice. The engine looked like it was 100 years old (it probably was!), the passenger cars were open and made mostly of wood and when you turned your eye up the mountain to follow the track on its upward course you quickly wondered, cog or not, whether this poor little train would make it. I kind of remember reading sometime later that the Cog Railway didn’t have a perfect safety record as one or two accidents have become part of local legend. I think they may still be looking for remains.
While memories have faded and details have been lost, I remember a sidebar conversation between Mom and Dad that went something like this:
“ Jack if you think I’m getting on that thing you’re out of your mind!”
or words to that effect. So Dad tried to convince Mom that it was safe, but Mom was resolute. She wasn’t getting on that black smoke spark belching dilapidated excuse for a death trap.
When it was settled Mom was not riding up the mountain, I guess Anne and I thought Mom would head back to Squam for a couple of days of rest and relaxation. Perhaps it was just me, but I was surprised to hear Mom say she was going up the old fashion way, on foot.
Four hours later we arrived at the summit, 6228 feet above sea level, and Mom was right there with us a little worse for the wear.
John 2009
Pigs Pigs Pigs
I don't know how or when the connection with Grammy and Pigs began, but for as long as I can remember she has been surrounded by them.
Every Christmas everyone would search for the perfect new pig to give Grammy. There were pig paintings, pig cookie jars, pig clocks, pig statues, and so many more. Anything that could be found in pig form, Grammy has it, except for the real living thing.
I remember visiting Grammy and Bapa in Maine, and embarking on a journey throughout the house to count all of the Grammy's pigs and there were well over a hundred.
Of all the pigs Grammy had my favorite was the ever so tasteful Biker Pig that sits in the kitchen at camp.
Carrie 2009
Polly
Grammy is the definition of what a Grandmother should be. She is kind and caring and willing to do anything to put a smile on your face.
She acts like you are the greatest thing in the world and it really warms your heart. She supports you in the best of times and the worst of the times.
Just picture this, its a cold windy day on the shore of Lake Winnipesaukee and there is a soccer game being played. It was Holderness vs. Brewster and there were only a few Holderness fans, two of which were Grammy and Bapa.
They drove all the way from Maine that day to watch me play in the goal and all I remember was Grammy standing on the sidelines cheering as though I was the best goalie in the world.
She stood on the side of the hill and as I made one save she just couldn't help shouting out, " That's my granddaughter!"
It has always been great having someone cheering for you on the sidelines.
Thanks for all your support Grammy
Happy 80th, Polly
JoJo the Eskimo
Hail to the birthday "girl
Hope you are having a great day...as I have said before can't believe we have made it this far..hale & hearty..its those wonderful genes we share along with all those wonderful memories we have of growing up together from childhood to adult(hood).
All those shared giggles at Norway Bay...reading by flashlight in our bunks and smoking out in the field while becoming "ladies" at Ont. Ladies College (yes kids that's what it was called) and then WOW finally breaking out at Endicott..lots of good dates AND bad dates..and oh yes some education in between..ending up with you meeting Jack and me Vern and then family took over.
Now here we are full circle.."Grannies"...I hope our grand kids will remember us with as much fondness & wonderful memories as we do of our shared Gramma...Looking forward to June and seeing you all again. Can you imagine our 60th reunion at EJC as if turning 80 wasn't trauma enough!!!
All my Love..and Vern's too...Joyce or JoJo the Eskimo as I was known at EJC...yikes!!
John
Mom,
Thank you for all your love. There's never been a better Mom and I am truly blessed. You have always been there me and my family.
You have a way of setting me straight and showing me the light. You knew when to apply tough love and when to be sympathetic. You should have been a psychologist (just kidding). I owe you everything.
I miss you and Nancy, Carrie and Polly and I wish you a very Happy 80th Birthday.
John 2009
Carrie
Grammy is the quiet force that keeps the Evans family together. There are many things that come to my mind when I think of Grammy, mostly her patience, and the amount of love she gives to our family.
Grammy is the one you go to when you need to find a recipe, or when you want to redecorate, or when you want a family story told.
She is the family historian and advice giver. She always has a smile on her face, and exudes positive energy.
As a grandmother, Grammy is amazing. She gives the best advice, and she is always great to talk to, and she is always supportive.
She is the glue that holds our family together.
I Love you Grammy, Happy 80th Birthday!
Carrie 2009
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