Grandma Frank's House Written by granddaughter Nena Rey Hawkes - April 11, 1998

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Grandpa and Grandma Frank were dairy farmers. Grandpa's name was Louis Frank and Grandma's was Ella Elizabeth "Ell" Haderlie. His parents were from Sweden; hers were from Switzerland. Grandpa was a slightly built man with narrow shoulders and a rounded upper back, his eyes were bespeckled with round black rimmed glasses. He wore stripped shirts and held up his pants with suspenders. His smile was accented by eyes that gleamed. His same countenance was reflected in my mother LaVenia's face.

Grandpa had a Model T Ford coupe with a rumble seat. A rumble seat replaces a trunk and opens up with a handle attached a few inches below the car's back window. The spare tire is carried above the back bumper. The rumble opens into a soft seat with a cushioned back. It holds two adults or four children. To get into the seat you placed one foot on the metal step on the left fender, then you stepped-up and placed the other foot down on the seat. If you were too small to step up and reach over into the seat, Grandpa picked you up and plopped you in. I liked to be plopped in! The open air ride was wonderful. One could look up and out plus smell the world as it passed by. Grandpa always bought us a sack of candy to make the trip a sweet experience. I didn't get many rides in this special car because Grandpa died when I was seven years old. After he left, so did the car, and Grandma was left to manage the farm.

Grandma was a thick bodied woman. She was substantial but neither tall nor short. She was a few inches taller than Grandpa. Her face carried a smile, easily coaxed into laughter, and it was punctuated with eyes that twinkled approval. Her cotton dresses were always bedecked with an apron, brown thick stockings covered her legs and her toe bunions cast an extra wide look to well-worn black shoes. Grandma looked just like a grandma should look. In fact, she did everything that a grandma should do. She greeted us with hugs and showered our faces with kisses. Most important she baked thick ginger bread cookies and the cookie container was always filled to the top. I never had to suffer the indignity of asking for a cookie. She always offered it at just the right moment.

Grandma's house stood in front of a big brown barn. There was a granary and a dirt parking lot with a hand operated well pump too. The front of the house had grass, a great big Catalpa tree and a gurgling irrigation ditch. I liked to play by the water and smell the fresh green mint that grew on its banks, the smell of the mint was especially nice when compared to the fragrance of farm animals. In the fall, I gathered the long brown pods dropped from the Catalpa tree and threw them into the water to watch them float away.

Our family usually made a once a week pilgrimage to Grandma's house. The four children in our family could hardly wait to go. Not only to see Grandma and the cookies but also to visit aunts, uncles, and cousins. We were also motivated by the thought that our father might buy us a double-decker ice cream on our way home. Therefore, the ride home was filled with anticipation. We four sat in the back seat and crossed our fingers for good luck. Occasionally, we glanced at each other and held our breath. If Dad didn't stop for ice cream, we got a pained look on our faces and together gave a low groan, not loud enough to be heard in the front seat, then we regained our happy composure.

Sunday afternoon Grandma's kitchen bustled with a gradual accumulation of aunts, uncles, and cousins. The uncles were a collage of Grandma's seven daughter's husbands and their kids. Her kitchen was rather small so our parents sat on chairs and the children spaced out on the linoleum floor or played in the barn yard. The men liked to banter with Grandma. They knew just what to do to raise her dander. They laughed at her when she defended herself from their jokes and she laughed back. When they finished aggravating Grandma their attention turned to teasing the children. One uncle enjoyed jesting with the girls about boyfriends, pretty dresses, or skinned knees. Each time he taunted one of us all of the men laughed. I usually sought refuge behind my father's chair.

It was difficult to be heard in Grandma's kitchen because of loud laughter and the intensity of adults carrying on several conversations at the same time. However, one of the men usually managed to talk above everyone else. He always had a story to tell. Another uncle always interjected a comment or two that challenged his story after which everyone laughed. It seemed all the adults, at some point, inserted at least one comment into the conversation.

Winter time brought lots of snow to Providence, Utah, where Grandma lived. During the snow time, Dad (Herbert J. Hawkes) put a sleigh in our car and when we reached a lonely road he stopped and hitched it to the car's bumper. Two of us would get on the sleigh and ride on the snow packed road for about a mile. The other two watched out the back window. After a good ride, we would change places with the two inside the car. By the time we reached Grandma's, we had rosy cheeks and red noses. We defrosted ourselves by the open oven of the coal stove while she supplied us with ginger bread cookies. We were warm and content.

Easter was a good day too. On Easter, the grandchildren came with their Easter baskets. I guess we were showing off our collection of goodies. Naturally, we saved the best until last. We all left our Easter baskets under Grandma's washing machine while everyone went for a climb on the Easter Egg Hill. With the conglomeration of cousins, it was not wise to leave an Easter basket unattended. The Easter Egg Hill was three blocks from Grandma's at the base of a mountain. The hike was fun as we took boiled colored eggs to eat when reached the top of the hill. On the way back, the neighborhood kids threw rocks at us to scare us off the hill. Having survived the trip, we all ran to snatch our baskets from under the washing machine.

Grandma loved baseball; she often attended community ball games as the ball park was close to her home. She said she loved to "hear the crack of the bat against the ball". She also had other choice sayings about people and cookies. She said "a cookie isn't any good if it can't grease its own bottom" and "two heads are better than one even if one is a cabbage head." I don't know if she created these expressions, but I like to think that she did.

Grandma was a wonderful woman and she was deeply religious. Once while staying at our house after she had retired for the night, I heard her praying aloud. Her prayer was an impassioned, heartfelt plea to the Lord to forgive her of her many sins. Mother (LaVenia) heard her too. She smiled and said Grandma did not need to be forgiven as she had no sins. I think Mother was right!