My mother, Cathryn, was born in Council Bluffs,  Iowa on December 28, 1914.  She was the third child born to Robert and Della Caughell.  The first born was Dallas Paul in Oklahoma and passed away after 7 months.  The second child was Floyd Wayne who was born in 1912 in Carson, Iowa.  They had another daughter, Clarabell born in 1918.  

Della was pregnant at the time of her death in 1920.

Mother’s parents, Robert and Della, both died of the so-called ‘Spanish Flu’ within 12 days of each other in 1920.

Mother did not have a lot of memories of her parents, she did remember seeing her mother in the casket at her funeral.

Floyd and mother were raised by Della’s sister Aunt Inez whose married name is Nilan.  They farmed not far from Oakland, Iowa.

Her younger sister, Clarabell was raised by another relative who moved to California so the girls were not raised together.  When we took vacation to California in the early 1950’s it was the first time the sisters had seen each other for many years to my knowledge.  I remember staying with her and her husband Ivan and she made a wonderful banana creme pie, perhaps the first one I had had.  I woke up in the middle of the night and I was really hungry so I went downstairs to the kitchen and in the refrigerator was one last small piece of this wonderful pie – was it meant for me???  Would anybody miss it??? I really wanted it but I let it go – I still think about the missed opportunity.

Mothers father, Robert had purchased a farm near Oakland, Iowa by borrowing his inheritance from his father Jacob.  This farm was rented with the proceeds going to help with the raising of the three children.

Mother was mostly happy with living with the Nilan’s and throughout their lives she visited with them.  There was lots of work on a farm and mother and her brother of course helped with these endeavors.  

I could be wrong, memory being such as it is, but mother told the story about them lighting kerosene lanterns on a field that outlined the landing area for the cross continent air mail pilots.

Mother graduated from high school in Oakland at 16 years of age and shortly thereafter married my father Pat Eblen who was older – it was scandalous!  The marriage lasted for 54 years until my father passed away in 1985.  Dad was, let’s say somewhat volatile and mother seldom lost control which made it work.  I remember my parents as generous, descent people and they had a very good marriage.

Dad worked in the construction business and they rented different places until they took possession of the farm.  I think the three Caughell kids did not have possession of the farm until the youngest, Calarbel turned 18.  At some point dad signed agreements to purchase the other two children’s share of the farm.  For many years he made payments on this agreement and when it was paid off I remember he and mom jumping for joy!

Dad said the condition of the farm house when they moved in was really bad.  He fell through the floor on his first visit to it with the rotting floor boards.  Dad didn’t do much field work and continued to do carpenter work around the area. He did however build several buildings for the hogs and chickens.  He had fond memories of raising purebred Poland China hogs which were much desired during the war for their fat.  The fat was used somehow for making ammunition.  Mom took care of the chickens which roamed around the yard all day making their happy sounds.

Both of my parents were very had working and responsible people.  I seldom remember dad in those first years after I was born.  He left before I got up and sometimes I was in bed before he came home.  Mom was fully in charge and she made a good life for us.  The house was poorly insulated and heated so in the cold mornings I didn’t linger long in the bedroom and hurried to the kitchen where mom would have the oven going strong and the door opened.  We would gather around the open door and enjoy the coal fired heat from it.  In the early years we carried the water in to the house from a well not far away and we enjoyed the infamous outhouse!  I can’t remember (probably early because I don’t have many memories of it not being there) when dad put an indoor toilet and running water in the house but it was a good investment.

Mother was a really good cook and she enjoyed dong it.  She was very adventurous and prepared quite a variety of dishes.  We ate well since she planted a large garden which allowed us to have a lot of fresh vegetables.  She would can this produce so we could enjoy it in the winter.  There were some dishes I just didn’t like and I would argue with mother about how much I disliked this food.  Oftentimes she would insist I eat it and I would insist I wasn’t going to.  I ate it.  Mother was a wonderful person but she really had a determined side to her.  If I wouldn’t eat it, then I would get the same plate at the next meal until I did it.  I apparently had inherited this stubbornness from mother but she had had years to develop it and she always ended up winning.  I’m here to tell you 2-day old asparagus is not good!

Mother taught the girls how to sew and they made many of their school clothes themselves.  Jane had a fiery temper like her dad and went toe-to-toe with mother many times…only to loose.  Joan would just smile and agree to go along but then would go do what she wanted to do.  To make clothes they purchased ‘patterns’ that you pinned to your material and then cut it out based on the pattern.  After that you sewed the pieces together on your Singer Sewing Machine and try it on.  That’s where the trouble started, “it doesn’t fit”, “it make me look fat”, “I don’t like it”, etc.  Mom would take the brunt of it and never lost her temper.  I rarely saw mom when she wasn’t under control.

Mom was a worrier, not really a pessimist but she would worry about dad and her kids.  I have to confess, I put many grey hairs on her head.  Dad was a true optimist and let mother worry about everything.

I had a favorite tree in our yard.  It was a Weeping Willow tree with low branches perfect for climbing.  I claimed this tree – it was mine.  I started building a tree house from boards I found around the farm.  Things were going well until Jane showed up.  She had the audacity to join me in MY tree. She climbed up to my tree house and I hit her on top of the head with my hammer.  I suppose I shouldn’t have done that.  She got out of the tree and ran to mother crying and blaming it entirely on me.  I can still picture mother coming out of the house and standing there with her hands on her hips telling me to come here.  I knew right away that I was in trouble – you could hear it in her voice.  I slowly walked towards her, I mean really slowly, spanking myself as I went.  I thought if she saw that I had already been punished she wouldn’t add to it.  When I arrived at my judgement day she stared at me and told me “your dad will deal with this tonight when he gets home”.  This is the worst capital punishment mom could hand out.  Mother had a wicked slap across the face that stung really bad when she dealt out punishment herself but dad, now thats a different story!  He would make you pull down your pants and lay over his lap where he would proceed to spank you.  It really hurt and you didn’t forget it quickly.  I don’t think I got close to my Weeping Willow tree after that, just too many bad memories.