My Aunt Marie was actually my Great-Aunt Marie, my grandmother Emma’s sister. We lived in Wisconsin and Aunt Marie and Uncle Roy lived in Iowa. It was close enough for many family visits back and forth.
I especially liked being with Aunt Marie because I thought she looked a lot like my grandma. Grandma Emma had died when I was only five years old, so my memories were hazy with most of my memories being from photographs, but I thought being with Aunt Marie was like being with my grandma.
Marie Kruse was very artistic. I remember the beautiful flower arrangements she would make. I also remember the first time I ever had real lemonade made out of real lemons was at Aunt Marie and Uncle Roy’s farm.
Roy and Marie had one son, Richard, who was married to Dorothy. Dick and Dorothy had been Arthur Murray dancers, and I once was allowed to look into the trunk where Dorothy kept all her beautiful dancing gowns. Dick and Dorothy had an adopted son, Douglas. I thought Douglas was very handsome. All are gone now, with Douglas dying at a young age in his sixties.
Roy and Marie also had a daughter, Irene, who was married to Kenneth Growden. Irene and Kenny had a daughter, Cheryl. In the late 1950s, Kenny got leukemia and died at a young age, leaving Irene to raise her daughter alone. Irene never married again after his death. Irene passed away in 2014, well into her 90s.
I remember going to Iowa was always something to look forward to. There were so many fun things to do on the farm!
A most memorable time was August 13, 1958. At that time we were living in California. It was a few days after my seventh birthday, which we had celebrated at the farm, and now it was time to go home. On the outskirts of Carroll, Iowa, we were hit head on by some teenagers trying to pass a truck. My sister and father were not badly injured, with my sister having a broken arm and my dad with cuts and scrapes. My mother went through the windshield and I broke my neck. It’s a miracle we lived through that accident. We were at St. Anthony’s Hospital in Carroll, Iowa. Everyone at the hospital was so kind to us, even though we were Methodists and it was a Catholic Hospital. Dad wanted to stay with us at the hospital, as I was in a coma for four weeks and Mom had her face put back together as if it had been a jigsaw puzzle, so he stayed with the priests. I said they were kind!
During that time my 11-year old sister stayed with Uncle Roy and Aunt Marie, Dick, Dorothy and Douglas. My sister will never forget how wonderful they all were to her. She had seen so much, too much, during that car accident.
She would play with Douglas and they would try to ride the calves. She said little sprouts began to grow out of her cast on her arm from playing in the grain.
Aunt Marie was so in tune to my sister, who often says to this day she would have never gotten through it without Aunt Marie’s tender love and care during a most difficult and emotional time, as she did not know if her mother and little sister (me) would live or die.
I was only five years old when my grandma died, but I’m very grateful that I was able to know her sister, Marie, as well as I did. Rest in sweet, heavenly peace, Aunt Marie.
I especially liked being with Aunt Marie because I thought she looked a lot like my grandma. Grandma Emma had died when I was only five years old, so my memories were hazy with most of my memories being from photographs, but I thought being with Aunt Marie was like being with my grandma.
Marie Kruse was very artistic. I remember the beautiful flower arrangements she would make. I also remember the first time I ever had real lemonade made out of real lemons was at Aunt Marie and Uncle Roy’s farm.
Roy and Marie had one son, Richard, who was married to Dorothy. Dick and Dorothy had been Arthur Murray dancers, and I once was allowed to look into the trunk where Dorothy kept all her beautiful dancing gowns. Dick and Dorothy had an adopted son, Douglas. I thought Douglas was very handsome. All are gone now, with Douglas dying at a young age in his sixties.
Roy and Marie also had a daughter, Irene, who was married to Kenneth Growden. Irene and Kenny had a daughter, Cheryl. In the late 1950s, Kenny got leukemia and died at a young age, leaving Irene to raise her daughter alone. Irene never married again after his death. Irene passed away in 2014, well into her 90s.
I remember going to Iowa was always something to look forward to. There were so many fun things to do on the farm!
A most memorable time was August 13, 1958. At that time we were living in California. It was a few days after my seventh birthday, which we had celebrated at the farm, and now it was time to go home. On the outskirts of Carroll, Iowa, we were hit head on by some teenagers trying to pass a truck. My sister and father were not badly injured, with my sister having a broken arm and my dad with cuts and scrapes. My mother went through the windshield and I broke my neck. It’s a miracle we lived through that accident. We were at St. Anthony’s Hospital in Carroll, Iowa. Everyone at the hospital was so kind to us, even though we were Methodists and it was a Catholic Hospital. Dad wanted to stay with us at the hospital, as I was in a coma for four weeks and Mom had her face put back together as if it had been a jigsaw puzzle, so he stayed with the priests. I said they were kind!
During that time my 11-year old sister stayed with Uncle Roy and Aunt Marie, Dick, Dorothy and Douglas. My sister will never forget how wonderful they all were to her. She had seen so much, too much, during that car accident.
She would play with Douglas and they would try to ride the calves. She said little sprouts began to grow out of her cast on her arm from playing in the grain.
Aunt Marie was so in tune to my sister, who often says to this day she would have never gotten through it without Aunt Marie’s tender love and care during a most difficult and emotional time, as she did not know if her mother and little sister (me) would live or die.
I was only five years old when my grandma died, but I’m very grateful that I was able to know her sister, Marie, as well as I did. Rest in sweet, heavenly peace, Aunt Marie.
My Aunt Marie was actually my Great-Aunt Marie, my grandmother Emma’s sister. We lived in Wisconsin and Aunt Marie and Uncle Roy lived in Iowa. It was close enough for many family visits back and forth.
I especially liked being with Aunt Marie because I thought she looked a lot like my grandma. Grandma Emma had died when I was only five years old, so my memories were hazy with most of my memories being from photographs, but I thought being with Aunt Marie was like being with my grandma.
Marie Kruse was very artistic. I remember the beautiful flower arrangements she would make. I also remember the first time I ever had real lemonade made out of real lemons was at Aunt Marie and Uncle Roy’s farm.
Roy and Marie had one son, Richard, who was married to Dorothy. Dick and Dorothy had been Arthur Murray dancers, and I once was allowed to look into the trunk where Dorothy kept all her beautiful dancing gowns. Dick and Dorothy had an adopted son, Douglas. I thought Douglas was very handsome. All are gone now, with Douglas dying at a young age in his sixties.
Roy and Marie also had a daughter, Irene, who was married to Kenneth Growden. Irene and Kenny had a daughter, Cheryl. In the late 1950s, Kenny got leukemia and died at a young age, leaving Irene to raise her daughter alone. Irene never married again after his death. Irene passed away in 2014, well into her 90s.
I remember going to Iowa was always something to look forward to. There were so many fun things to do on the farm!
A most memorable time was August 13, 1958. At that time we were living in California. It was a few days after my seventh birthday, which we had celebrated at the farm, and now it was time to go home. On the outskirts of Carroll, Iowa, we were hit head on by some teenagers trying to pass a truck. My sister and father were not badly injured, with my sister having a broken arm and my dad with cuts and scrapes. My mother went through the windshield and I broke my neck. It’s a miracle we lived through that accident. We were at St. Anthony’s Hospital in Carroll, Iowa. Everyone at the hospital was so kind to us, even though we were Methodists and it was a Catholic Hospital. Dad wanted to stay with us at the hospital, as I was in a coma for four weeks and Mom had her face put back together as if it had been a jigsaw puzzle, so he stayed with the priests. I said they were kind!
During that time my 11-year old sister stayed with Uncle Roy and Aunt Marie, Dick, Dorothy and Douglas. My sister will never forget how wonderful they all were to her. She had seen so much, too much, during that car accident.
She would play with Douglas and they would try to ride the calves. She said little sprouts began to grow out of her cast on her arm from playing in the grain.
Aunt Marie was so in tune to my sister, who often says to this day she would have never gotten through it without Aunt Marie’s tender love and care during a most difficult and emotional time, as she did not know if her mother and little sister (me) would live or die.
I was only five years old when my grandma died, but I’m very grateful that I was able to know her sister, Marie, as well as I did. Rest in sweet, heavenly peace, Aunt Marie.
I especially liked being with Aunt Marie because I thought she looked a lot like my grandma. Grandma Emma had died when I was only five years old, so my memories were hazy with most of my memories being from photographs, but I thought being with Aunt Marie was like being with my grandma.
Marie Kruse was very artistic. I remember the beautiful flower arrangements she would make. I also remember the first time I ever had real lemonade made out of real lemons was at Aunt Marie and Uncle Roy’s farm.
Roy and Marie had one son, Richard, who was married to Dorothy. Dick and Dorothy had been Arthur Murray dancers, and I once was allowed to look into the trunk where Dorothy kept all her beautiful dancing gowns. Dick and Dorothy had an adopted son, Douglas. I thought Douglas was very handsome. All are gone now, with Douglas dying at a young age in his sixties.
Roy and Marie also had a daughter, Irene, who was married to Kenneth Growden. Irene and Kenny had a daughter, Cheryl. In the late 1950s, Kenny got leukemia and died at a young age, leaving Irene to raise her daughter alone. Irene never married again after his death. Irene passed away in 2014, well into her 90s.
I remember going to Iowa was always something to look forward to. There were so many fun things to do on the farm!
A most memorable time was August 13, 1958. At that time we were living in California. It was a few days after my seventh birthday, which we had celebrated at the farm, and now it was time to go home. On the outskirts of Carroll, Iowa, we were hit head on by some teenagers trying to pass a truck. My sister and father were not badly injured, with my sister having a broken arm and my dad with cuts and scrapes. My mother went through the windshield and I broke my neck. It’s a miracle we lived through that accident. We were at St. Anthony’s Hospital in Carroll, Iowa. Everyone at the hospital was so kind to us, even though we were Methodists and it was a Catholic Hospital. Dad wanted to stay with us at the hospital, as I was in a coma for four weeks and Mom had her face put back together as if it had been a jigsaw puzzle, so he stayed with the priests. I said they were kind!
During that time my 11-year old sister stayed with Uncle Roy and Aunt Marie, Dick, Dorothy and Douglas. My sister will never forget how wonderful they all were to her. She had seen so much, too much, during that car accident.
She would play with Douglas and they would try to ride the calves. She said little sprouts began to grow out of her cast on her arm from playing in the grain.
Aunt Marie was so in tune to my sister, who often says to this day she would have never gotten through it without Aunt Marie’s tender love and care during a most difficult and emotional time, as she did not know if her mother and little sister (me) would live or die.
I was only five years old when my grandma died, but I’m very grateful that I was able to know her sister, Marie, as well as I did. Rest in sweet, heavenly peace, Aunt Marie.
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