Continued from An ambulance arrives
Noni died in April 1957. True to form, mom raised eyebrows in the wake of her mother’s death. No lengthy, black-clad, grieving for her. She had plans! Her father’s business partners, Fred and Ernest, knitted their brows and rung their hands the day she marched into the office and announced that she intended to sell her inherited share of the company. Ernest had promised Herman that he’d look after Yry and the girls in Herman’s absence; it was a promise he discovered none too easy to live up to.
“But Yry, what will you do? What will you live on?” asked Fred.
Ernest chimed in, ” You are worn out, dear. You need some time to recover from the shock of losing your dear father and now your poor mother.”
“You’re right, Ernest. I am exhausted. But I’ve no intention of burdening you two with my ineptitude. I have no interest in trade. I never did. I have no role in this business. I want to be free of it.”
“But Yry, of course you have a role here. You’ve been a wonderful help to us whenever we needed you during inventory or tax time. We love having you here in the office with us. Everyone loves you. You must think of your future . . .”
“Thank you gentlemen, for being so concerned about my welfare. I’m sure my intentions come as a shock. My father loved this business. He devoted his life to it. I think he gave his life to it. But this was his dream, not mine. I’ve waited long enough to get on with my life. I’ll not wait a moment longer.”
Fred interjected, “You’re not thinking clearly here. You mustn’t rush to make rash decisions that will impact your life forever. . . . And your children. You must think of them . . .”
“Ha! My children! Do tell. I’m doing this for them as much as I am for myself. No child of mine will grow up trapped in this concrete fortress. My children will know the sky, the sunshine, the mountains, the prairie sage! My children will play on the back of a horse, not in a grimy alley. My children will thrive and grow strong, breathing crystal clean air. You must understand, Fred and Ernest, that this is no rash decision on my part. I’ve been thinking about this . . . well, all my life, actually. My hands were tied until now.”
My mother had indeed mapped a course for her future. She closed her ears to the remonstrations of the Steins and to those of her and her parents’ friends. While Oppie, her father’s attorney, prepared the necessary documents for the sale of her third of the partnership, mother packed household items, sorted and disposed of things she couldn’t take with her, and re-established contacts in Wyoming. She contacted Mr. Dever, an insurance agent whom she’d met while taking courses at the university. He owned some rental properties in Laramie and was well acquainted with the local real estate market. Mother wired $500 to Mr. Dever, to be used as earnest money for the purchase of a house for her. She gave him free rein to find the appropriate property, as long as it met the following conditions: an older, single-family property; within walking distance of a school; must have a private yard; and preferably near the university campus.
Wow. It just dawned on me at the end, was that the house on 9th & Garfield I rented from your Mom? If so, I am even more drawn in to this fascinating series of written events you have shared with us all. Your Mom ensured for you oh so many years ago the life in the beautiful outdoors that you so dearly cherish now. This history just keeps getting better.
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The very same house! I didn’t know (or had forgotten) that you lived in it. I remember you living on 4th Street or somewhere in that area. What I don’t have evidence of, I can’t remember! 😮
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I guess Yry needed to sell her share of the company to buy the house. I find myself wondering if she could have still bought a house and kept her share of the company to keep a steady income in absentia, but it is just a thought, not a judgement.Oh, when I think of decisions I have made around money isues.I like the idea of being near a university, see a future in that, and of course, the love of the land. I found that seeing the comment from Karen Krause about the house intriguing!
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Have no fear, Jane. Yry (or Oppie, the lawyer, and perhaps also the firm) brokered a deal that bought her out over time. I think she received 3 lump sum payments, and while she was still a partial owner, she received dividends. She used this seed money wisely, lived fairly close to the bone, but spending enough to found her dream.
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I agree with Karen: The history just keeps getting better!
Linda, I cannot wait to read more of your story. This conversation, that Yry had with Fred and Ernest, sounds so very true. This is an example of some very good writing by you. Thank you for sharing your story!
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Thank you Auntyuta. I’m not very confident about doing dialogue right, so your reaction is music to my eyes. 😉
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Yay! The post I’ve been waiting for has finally come! The suspense for me was growing and now I can breathe a sigh of relief that our heroine can now get back out West, to the land that’s in her heart. I thought it was interesting that you are referring to her as “mom” now because you are in the picture. Also, Yry’s conversation with Ernest and Fred presents a hint of what I have experienced in my life when I made decisions that broke out of the mold that was expected of me. Hopefully I won’t offend anyone here, but Yry’s strength reminds me that women should trust their instincts and go with their heart and know that they will succeed as they break out of traditional roles. Some women’s spirits would have been broken, but apparently not Yry’s. Thanks for this great story!
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You noticed! Was that change in perspective jarring? I was hoping it made sense. You are right, I’m unavoidably in the picture now.
It’s a little depressing to hear how far we’ve not come since the 50s. But I know my journey has been easier than my mom’s. And the kids of my friends have had credit cards since they were in high school. I can’t even imagine what hoops mom had to go through to buy property. I know she secured a loan for the first…well, I think for all the properties. Perhaps she had a large enough down payment to put the bankers in their place. I can’t imagine her going to the New York partners and asking one of them to co sign. But I know that in those days, bankers were not at all accustomed to granting women credit.
Thanks for your enthusiastic encouragement. 😉
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Linda, your next to last paragraph speaks volumes about mother. I reread as it was an anthem. Keith
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Glad it resonated for you, Keith.
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What a wonderfully strong mother to declare … My children will know the sky, the sunshine, the mountains, the prairie sage! … (I love that!)
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Yes, Denise, I was a lucky child to be born of her.
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An enthralling story. It’s not mine to tell, really, but I would have done the same as you mother. Why would you not let you children not know the sky and the sunshine if you had a chance. As somebody else wrote, this story is just getting better and better.
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Thanks for the vote of confidence, Otto. Yeah, I was lucky to be born to such a mother.
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