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Rated: E · Non-fiction · Family · #1293200
My grandfather's account of how he met my grandmother.
The following account of how my grandparents met back during World War II is from my late grandfather's own words. He wrote a family history some years ago called "The Way It Was" for members of his immediate family. Included in this fascinating volume was the story of how my grandpa Fred met the love of his life, my grandma Louise. I'll tell it in his exact words, including from the journal he kept during his days in the Army Air Corps.

My grandmother spent several years in an orphanage in Idaho. This is starting point as to how she and Fred met. As he puts it:

Louise stayed in the orphanage until she was 18. She said the only "bringing up" she ever got was in the orphanage. When she left the orphanage, her dad, John Sherfield, was contacted to see if he could take her in. He declined saying that he didn't have room for her. This was pretty much true. Also he was barely able to support himself and his wife. Besides, I doubt he was very keen about accepting responsibility for a teenage girl whom he hadn't seen since she was less than two years old.

From the orphanage Louise went to a National Youth Administration(NYA) school to learn welding. This was during the war when a lot of women were being trained for occupations previously filled by men.

She was not very adept at welding, so was transferred to the cafeteria where she learned food handling and was taught how to be a waitress. From there she went to Pocatello and got a job as a waitress at the Savoy Cafe. It was owned by A Greek named Pete Dokas. He had a hot temper and would often fire an employee and then hire him or her back a few minutes later when he cooled down.

She was working there when I met her about 15 December 1943. My story is that I went to eat at the Savoy and was waited on by this cute little doll. She was very attentive, kept my coffee cup full, and stopped by to visit whenever she had time. I was very impressed by her and was dismayed when I got my check to discover that I had only enough money to pay for my meal, but none for a tip. I sure didn't want to just walk out and leave her with nothing. I racked my brain trying to think of how I could express my gratitiude for the fine service I had received and couldn't think of anything else to do, so I married her. This may not be exactly true, but it's a good story.
* * *

Another account of the early days of my grandparents' romance comes from my grandfather's journal from World War II. He recalls:

In my earliest romantic fantasies I wanted a beautiful little doll to take care of. The Lord must have made a note of this, because that is what eventually happened. Louise was a beautiful little doll who definitely needed someone to take care of her.
It was, at first, a very rough and tangled road. We did everything wrong, but it eventually turned out pretty well. I met her at the Savoy Cafe where she worked. This was between the 10th and 15th of December, 1943. Our first date was on 17 December. She was working until one in the morning, so all I could do was take her to eat and then home.

We dated occasionally through December. Her schedule was changed so I was able to take her to movies, dancing, and dinners. I was becoming infatuated with her. She wasn't too infatuated with me at the time, but enjoyed the dinners, etc., and the imagined prestige of dating an Air Corps officer.

About the end of December we started going steady together, and any time we were both off duty or work, we were together.

This continued until 11 February when my group was cleared to go overseas and were to leave th next day. Louise tried to contact me but was unable to, so she thought I had already gone and abandoned her without even saying good-bye. She then went to California to contact a guy she was going with before she met me. He had a new girlfriend and wasn't interested in her, so there she was, in California with no friends, no job and no money. She went to the Red Cross and they got her a ticket back to Pocatello.

I tried to contact her, and one of her friends, trying to cover for her, said she had left to take care of her cousin's children, and there was no way to get in touch with her. This was a blow to me, but there was nothing I could do about it.

We didn't leave the next day as planned because of bad weather. In fact, the weather stayed so bad we weren't able to take off until 18 February.

Louise got back from California and found out I was still there. She phoned me on the 16 February and then came out to the air base. We quarreled but patched it up. I didn't trust her but wasn't about to let her go. I told her that, if she would wait for me, I wanted to marry her when I got back from overseas. I didn't have too much confidence in her waiting for me because she wasn't too dependable, and there were too many lonesome service men in Pocatello.

On 17 February my group was briefed to fly to Lincoln, Nebraska, on 18 February on our way overseas. We were to be in Lincoln several days for overseas processing. We were told the move was secret and not to tell anyone anything about it. So I didn't.

What I did tell Louise was:"Take a bus to Lincoln, Nebraska, in the morning and check into the Cornhusker Hotel. Don't ask me any questions; don't tell anyone; just do it."

A couple of days later we got on the hotel elevator in Lincoln to go down to supper and here was the group commander, the group operations officer and my squadron commander and their wives and girlfriends. Nobody said a word.

My group was at Lincoln, Nebraska, until 27 February, before continuing our trip overseas.

Our first "home" overseas was at Ouidna, Tunisia, where we arrived on 10 March. The first mail I received was 20 March. One of the first letters I got from Louise announced that she was pregnant. I had been halfway supporting her already, but now took over completely.

She worked for a while, but then moved in with a couple named Roy and Jean Jenkins and paid board and room. Probably my most frequent prayer while in combat was to be able to get back to the States to take care of her. I still didn't know her too well and was not sure what I would find when and if I got back. So I told my family very little about her.

I still wrote to another girl, Ruth Kittams, whom I had dated sporadically for a few years before I met Louise. She had been my sister's roommate and closest friend in college, and this brought us together.

I knew she assumed we would eventually get married, although marriage was never mentioned by either of us. I did not discourage this assumption, but I have always felt guilty because I didn't. She eventually married another guy she had gone out with a few times while we were going together. She rented an apartment from his mother when she worked for social services and was stationed in Hardin, Montana.

I got back to the States 27 September 1944 and was sent by train to Salt Lake City. After 16 days in the hospital with athlete's foot, caught on the ship, I finally got out and arrived in Pocatello, Idaho, on 20 October. Louise and her cousin Thelma met me at the bus station. I recognized Thelma before I recognized Louise, who had put on a little weight since I saw her last. She took me to meet Jean and Roy Jenkins where she was living.

The baby was due, and the excitement of the day helped start labor pains that evening. We took her to the hospital about midnight and Sharon Lee Kibler was born at 4:53, 21 October 1944. Louise was expecting a girl, and I think she had her named several months before she was born.

Jean walked the halls with me while I waited for the baby to be born. Bouquets of flowers from various rooms were set out in the halls for the night so Jean and I borrowed a flower from each of them until we had a nice bouquet for Louise.

That was in the days when the mother was kept in the hospital 10 days after giving birth, so it was 30 October before I got them home. Louise had plenty of older girls to help her take care of the baby and show her how.

We immediately started the paperwork, etc,, to get married. We were married on 4 November 1944 in the Presbyterian church by an old minister named Ebenezer Ferry. Jean Jenkins was Matron of Honor and Roy Jenkins was Best Man.

My next responsibility was to go home to Jordan, Montana, and tell my parents that I was married and had a daughter. They were obviously very surprised, but were so glad that I had come home from the war in one piece that they didn't make a big deal of it.

* * *

And the rest, as they say, is history.





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