Friday, January 12, 2007

Boy Editor and Son

Our first son, Sam Allen, was born June 11, 1956. Janice insisted she be allowed to pick the name and I would have the option on the next child. Her choice was Sam because his initials would stand for his name, Sam Allen McCormick. The Allen came from my middle name, I guess. It might have just been a convenience to get the “A.”

I printed an eight by ten inch miniature front page for Sam’s birth announcement, including a version of my weekly column, “Loose Ends.” Pictures of mother and son were printed on the back side. A bulletin on the front page indicated Sam had to be taken back to Our Lady of Lourdes hospital in Norfolk because of an infected gland.

I had been at the hospital waiting for Sam’s birth but when it seemed it would be a while, I went back to Stanton to get some work done. As a result, when I was finally called, he was already born by the time I got back.

That same year I was elected secretary of the Northeast Nebraska Press Association. I was unofficially given the title “Boy Editor of Northeast Nebraska.” I took over from another publisher who, until I came along, was the youngest in that part of the state.

Jim and Catherine Brooks lived next door to us. Jim had a trenching business and was building their house as money became available. When we first came to Stanton they were living in the basement. By the time we left, they had moved into the upstairs.

Since Janice’s mother did all the cooking at home, the children in the Owens family received little practice in culinary skills. I must say that over the years my wife has been an excellent cook but I was not completely aware of the difficulty she had early in our marriage in that respect.

I got a hint of the problem one noon when I came home earlier than expected and found Janice crossing the alley from the Brooks house with a pan of noodles. She was always asking me what I liked to eat and one of the things was beef and noodles. She had made them on several occasions and always asked how I liked them. I tried to be honest and the first few times I said the noodles were a little on the tough side. That day I came home early, I realized I had been criticizing Catherine’s noodles all this time.

When Sam was old enough to walk, he would wander across the alley to the Brooks’ home where either Catherine, Jim or one of their three children would entertain him. He went a little far, however, when one morning before any of us was awake. He got up, went across the alley, into their bathroom, and used the facilities.

A few minutes later, he went into the bedroom, shook the sleeping neighbor, and said “Kwipe me, Jim!”

When Randy (the youngest of the Brooks children) was five years old, he came out to the curb where I was burning trash and very seriously warned me, “Ken, fires are very dangerous and you should be real careful.”

Bonnie and Cheryl were older and treated Sam as a younger brother. They would dress him up like a doll and push him around in a baby carriage. Later, when they were high school age, they visited us in Auburn for several weeks one summer. We still had small children at the time and dealing with teenagers enlightened us with the problems we might have later in life.

They were not really any problem. We were the problem in not knowing anything about how to handle their dating local boys. It all worked out and they seemed to enjoy their stay, especially with the one guy who took them around town in his convertible.

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