Uncle Verle was a school teacher and a principal, in Illinois and in Indiana. He married my Aunt Bea, but they were not able to have children. She lost three pregnancies somewhat late in years. The Depression got in the way when they were young; she was also a school teacher, and needed to work. They shared a house with her sister Ione and her husband Carl (Onie and Bud). With all four working, they had enough money to survive, but not enough to risk having kids.
I moved in with Aunt Bea and Uncle Verle and my great grandmother Cena Booher for some months in 1968. Grandma Booher was blind, and deaf, but wore a hearing aid. Uncle Verle was a very kind man, and a good husband. He helped around the house, which was not common in my experience at that time of my life. He had a good sense of humor, and he had a wonderful head of hair, but was not vain about it. He was quite a handsome man.
He retired in Illinois, and then went to Indiana for five years to teach, to earn a pension there, too. He had an apartment in Indiana, and came home to Aunt Bea on the weekends. He retired the beginning of June in 1971, and he died the Thursday before Thanksgiving in November, 1971. I always thought that it was grossly unfair that Uncle Verle only got to enjoy five months of his retirement.
When I lived with Uncle Verle and Aunt Bea, we often cooked supper together, all three of us. I remember how he always made the iced tea. He surely did love that! He was a very good cook, as was Aunt Bea. The three younger sisters, Aunt Bea, Aunt Onie, and Aunt Elda, were exceptionally close all their lives, and spent as much spare time together as possible, so their husbands were willy nilly thrown together for decades. (Fortunately, they got along quite well.) I am not sure which one chose what to watch, but it was not uncommon to find them ensconsed in the living room, watching football, with the women chattering and cooking in the kitchen.
Uncle Verle was so very, very kind. I turned 19 while living with them, and I went out to the Humane Society in Danville and adopted a kitten that day for my birthday present to myself. When I got home, I had to wash the kitten, and I was going to let her (Joshua) scamper around, and air dry quickly. Uncle Verle got a towel, wrapped her up, and insisted on holding and cuddling her on his chest for an hour until she was dry.
I spent a lot of time with him over the years. His prevailing attitude seemed to me to be melancholy. I do not know why; it may have had something to do with the three babies they lost. It may have been because he was Aunt Bea's second choice, when the man she wanted to marry did not want to marry her. I never asked, and I never knew. But he was a lovely man, and a great uncle.
I moved in with Aunt Bea and Uncle Verle and my great grandmother Cena Booher for some months in 1968. Grandma Booher was blind, and deaf, but wore a hearing aid. Uncle Verle was a very kind man, and a good husband. He helped around the house, which was not common in my experience at that time of my life. He had a good sense of humor, and he had a wonderful head of hair, but was not vain about it. He was quite a handsome man.
He retired in Illinois, and then went to Indiana for five years to teach, to earn a pension there, too. He had an apartment in Indiana, and came home to Aunt Bea on the weekends. He retired the beginning of June in 1971, and he died the Thursday before Thanksgiving in November, 1971. I always thought that it was grossly unfair that Uncle Verle only got to enjoy five months of his retirement.
When I lived with Uncle Verle and Aunt Bea, we often cooked supper together, all three of us. I remember how he always made the iced tea. He surely did love that! He was a very good cook, as was Aunt Bea. The three younger sisters, Aunt Bea, Aunt Onie, and Aunt Elda, were exceptionally close all their lives, and spent as much spare time together as possible, so their husbands were willy nilly thrown together for decades. (Fortunately, they got along quite well.) I am not sure which one chose what to watch, but it was not uncommon to find them ensconsed in the living room, watching football, with the women chattering and cooking in the kitchen.
Uncle Verle was so very, very kind. I turned 19 while living with them, and I went out to the Humane Society in Danville and adopted a kitten that day for my birthday present to myself. When I got home, I had to wash the kitten, and I was going to let her (Joshua) scamper around, and air dry quickly. Uncle Verle got a towel, wrapped her up, and insisted on holding and cuddling her on his chest for an hour until she was dry.
I spent a lot of time with him over the years. His prevailing attitude seemed to me to be melancholy. I do not know why; it may have had something to do with the three babies they lost. It may have been because he was Aunt Bea's second choice, when the man she wanted to marry did not want to marry her. I never asked, and I never knew. But he was a lovely man, and a great uncle.
Uncle Verle was a school teacher and a principal, in Illinois and in Indiana. He married my Aunt Bea, but they were not able to have children. She lost three pregnancies somewhat late in years. The Depression got in the way when they were young; she was also a school teacher, and needed to work. They shared a house with her sister Ione and her husband Carl (Onie and Bud). With all four working, they had enough money to survive, but not enough to risk having kids.
I moved in with Aunt Bea and Uncle Verle and my great grandmother Cena Booher for some months in 1968. Grandma Booher was blind, and deaf, but wore a hearing aid. Uncle Verle was a very kind man, and a good husband. He helped around the house, which was not common in my experience at that time of my life. He had a good sense of humor, and he had a wonderful head of hair, but was not vain about it. He was quite a handsome man.
He retired in Illinois, and then went to Indiana for five years to teach, to earn a pension there, too. He had an apartment in Indiana, and came home to Aunt Bea on the weekends. He retired the beginning of June in 1971, and he died the Thursday before Thanksgiving in November, 1971. I always thought that it was grossly unfair that Uncle Verle only got to enjoy five months of his retirement.
When I lived with Uncle Verle and Aunt Bea, we often cooked supper together, all three of us. I remember how he always made the iced tea. He surely did love that! He was a very good cook, as was Aunt Bea. The three younger sisters, Aunt Bea, Aunt Onie, and Aunt Elda, were exceptionally close all their lives, and spent as much spare time together as possible, so their husbands were willy nilly thrown together for decades. (Fortunately, they got along quite well.) I am not sure which one chose what to watch, but it was not uncommon to find them ensconsed in the living room, watching football, with the women chattering and cooking in the kitchen.
Uncle Verle was so very, very kind. I turned 19 while living with them, and I went out to the Humane Society in Danville and adopted a kitten that day for my birthday present to myself. When I got home, I had to wash the kitten, and I was going to let her (Joshua) scamper around, and air dry quickly. Uncle Verle got a towel, wrapped her up, and insisted on holding and cuddling her on his chest for an hour until she was dry.
I spent a lot of time with him over the years. His prevailing attitude seemed to me to be melancholy. I do not know why; it may have had something to do with the three babies they lost. It may have been because he was Aunt Bea's second choice, when the man she wanted to marry did not want to marry her. I never asked, and I never knew. But he was a lovely man, and a great uncle.
I moved in with Aunt Bea and Uncle Verle and my great grandmother Cena Booher for some months in 1968. Grandma Booher was blind, and deaf, but wore a hearing aid. Uncle Verle was a very kind man, and a good husband. He helped around the house, which was not common in my experience at that time of my life. He had a good sense of humor, and he had a wonderful head of hair, but was not vain about it. He was quite a handsome man.
He retired in Illinois, and then went to Indiana for five years to teach, to earn a pension there, too. He had an apartment in Indiana, and came home to Aunt Bea on the weekends. He retired the beginning of June in 1971, and he died the Thursday before Thanksgiving in November, 1971. I always thought that it was grossly unfair that Uncle Verle only got to enjoy five months of his retirement.
When I lived with Uncle Verle and Aunt Bea, we often cooked supper together, all three of us. I remember how he always made the iced tea. He surely did love that! He was a very good cook, as was Aunt Bea. The three younger sisters, Aunt Bea, Aunt Onie, and Aunt Elda, were exceptionally close all their lives, and spent as much spare time together as possible, so their husbands were willy nilly thrown together for decades. (Fortunately, they got along quite well.) I am not sure which one chose what to watch, but it was not uncommon to find them ensconsed in the living room, watching football, with the women chattering and cooking in the kitchen.
Uncle Verle was so very, very kind. I turned 19 while living with them, and I went out to the Humane Society in Danville and adopted a kitten that day for my birthday present to myself. When I got home, I had to wash the kitten, and I was going to let her (Joshua) scamper around, and air dry quickly. Uncle Verle got a towel, wrapped her up, and insisted on holding and cuddling her on his chest for an hour until she was dry.
I spent a lot of time with him over the years. His prevailing attitude seemed to me to be melancholy. I do not know why; it may have had something to do with the three babies they lost. It may have been because he was Aunt Bea's second choice, when the man she wanted to marry did not want to marry her. I never asked, and I never knew. But he was a lovely man, and a great uncle.
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