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Tag Archives: Carl and Bessie- True Friends

Considering Social Security

06 Monday Feb 2017

Posted by chaplines2014 in Citizenship, Growing up, Innocence, Racial Prejudice

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Carl and Bessie- True Friends, life experiences, Memories

 

farm windmill

In the 1960’s our visits with our large extended family became rare. We lived at least fifty miles away from most of them, my parents were both working full-time, my brothers were away starting their careers, and I was busy with my school and extra-curricular activities. The three of us, my parents and I, did regularly go to see Grandma and Grandpa Warfel. That is when I learned how politically interested my grandparents were, Grandpa vocally, Grandma less so. I listened. They talked. Prohibition was Grandma’s prime concern in several conversations; Social Security was Grandpa’s. They teased about cancelling each other’s votes when they went to the polls. It was a common tease; they usually agreed about their votes.

 

Grandma had been a long-time member of the Women’s Christian Temperance Union. She began to become senile in those years, before she was 70, much to everyone’s surprise, because she was a loving, intelligent woman who kept track of everyone and everything. Soon thereafter Grandpa’s bottle of wine began to appear on the kitchen counter.

 

Grandpa had to begin making Social Security payments in 1954, when the law was extended to farmers. He resented paying into a fund that he didn’t expect to collect, ever! His method of preparing for old age, since he didn’t believe in banks, was to stash money in hiding places. When he died of a stroke in 1971, at the age of 81, his family found tens of thousands of dollars hidden in various places in his house.

 

During our visits he railed against Roosevelt and Social Security. It would surely run out of money before most people got to collect anything, since the fund started from zero, people collecting from the first more than they ever paid into it, and it would run out before those who had paid their whole lives ever got to collect a penny. He was especially concerned for his children and grandchildren, since they were the ones who would be left out. That’s why he wouldn’t collect anything, on principle, since he had paid into it so few years, even though he didn’t want to be forced to pay anyway. The government should just stay out of people’s private business. My father encouraged him to go ahead and collect it, after he reached the age of 72, which was 1962, since everyone else of his age was doing so, and his refusal to collect wouldn’t do any good for his children and grandchildren anyway. Eventually Grandpa did collect, receiving from it as many years as he paid into it, and quite a bit more than he paid into it, as it turned out. When he died, and Grandma had to enter the nursing home for day and night care, due to her dementia, the Survivor’s Social Security check went far in helping to pay for her care for the remaining three years.

 

There were many other issues that bothered him. He did not believe in street demonstrations, but the mistreatment of Negro citizens was criminal in his opinion, and the laws were late in coming to their aid.  He hated the KKK, and proudly spoke of Grandma’s defense of their young family, with a shotgun even (!), when the KKK in Jasper County threatened her while he was away working for his brother in Champaign County. They were recruiting and threatening neighbors who didn’t volunteer to join. He and Grandma soon moved to Champaign County. As Grandma descended into senility, she again imagined people sneaking around her house and trying to break in.

He was a “Lincoln Republican,” he often said, and he understood that Republicans believed in civil rights in contrast to Democrats. Republicans had passed the key amendments to the constitution that guaranteed equality, that his father, John Dougherty Warfel, had fought to win in the Civil War. Grandpa brought out the gun that J.D. had used, to show me, and the photos of J.D. and his brothers Uriah and Philip Warfel in uniform. He was glad Eisenhower had backed the effort to desegregate the schools in the South. It was a suspicious alliance between Northern and Southern Democrats that prevailed in the 1960’s; he didn’t trust it to last or accomplish anything good for the people.

You will know how to vote.

12 Saturday Sep 2015

Posted by chaplines2014 in Citizenship, Growing up

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Carl and Bessie- True Friends, Memories

3 Owls

Grandpa Warfel talked politics. It was not a rule in his house to avoid the topic. Abraham Lincoln was his all-time hero, though Dwight Eisenhower came onto the list somewhere not terribly far below him. When the time came for any of his forty-odd grandchildren to be eligible to vote, Grandpa would make a visit to each one shortly before the time ran out for voter registration to make sure his kids were registered, and when the time for the election came he would visit to make sure his kids were planning to vote.

He never told us how to vote. He just said, “You’ll know how to vote.” Did we know how to vote because we had listened to so many family conversations over the years, or was he simply expressing his confidence in us? I do not know for sure, but I do know that he wanted us to vote. He wanted his family to participate in the franchise, both young men and young women, as he and Grandma had done, though she was not eligible to vote until the 19th Amendment made her vote possible. Thereafter she most certainly did, whether they canceled each other’s vote or not.

I think about Grandpa whenever I hear that so many first opportunity voters do not become first time voters. I was persuaded from the first that 18 year olds, able to die for their country, and continuing to do so through the years in ample numbers, should be able to vote. Is the franchise really meaningless?

Why have so many died for that right if it means nothing? All of those who worked to secure and implement the Voting Rights Act surely believed that we should do all we could to use it, including the young adults Werner, Chaney and Goodman who died for it. Should we forego that right and responsibility here when we fight for it elsewhere?

The spiritual resources from our ancient history longed for equality and mutuality among people, but of necessity endured governments where tyrants ruled and abused their citizens. Do we really want to return to that kind of state?

We have a year until the next major national election, and several voting and citizen participation opportunities in the meantime. Can we play the role that my Grandpa undertook for the young adults in our community? How can we persuade each other that each vote can make a difference and that all who have the right also have the responsibility to cast votes?

Can we remind each other that a handful of voters in each precinct have decided recent national elections? War and peace, jobs and benefits, air and water, schools and hospitals, roads and parks, jails and courts, animals and plants, faiths and freedoms all feel an impact from voters’ decisions. Nonvoters have as much impact as voters, but not necessarily in the direction they would choose.

It is time for more exercise! It is time for a movement for exercise of the vote in a country in which fewer than half usually vote. It won’t do much good to have a well-exercised body or an educated mind if we have given away the freedom to use them.

Still working at the Mattoon Shirt Factory… April 1914

02 Thursday Apr 2015

Posted by chaplines2014 in People

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Carl and Bessie- True Friends

Bessie Coen

Bessie Coen

Rose Hill Ills, April 10, 1914 [To: Miss Bessie Coen, Mattoon Illinois, 3208 Marion St.]

Dear Bessie, I received your welcome letter this eve and was so glad to hear from you and was glad to hear that Mattoon was a dry city. They was some women voted down here. This is almost like winter again.  I suppose that you are at work now. It is just 20 till 1 clock now. I was sorry to hear that you couldn’t stand work but Bessie it hain’t the work. You don’t get enough pure air. I know that I couldn’t stand that kind of work very long. The best thing that you can do I think is just to quit working there. You had better quit work for a while any way. I would like to see you this Sunday but I cannot but I will try and come up before very long. Yes Bessie I will tell you all I know about that when I see you and how I heard it. Well I must close for this time. It’s work time. Grant is going up to Hidalgo this afternoon. With all kind wishes to you I will close for this time. Answer soon from your true friend Carl. Good bye.

Mattoon, April 17, 1914 [To: Mr. Carl Warfel, Rose Hill]

Dear Carl, I was so glad to get your letter, and would have answered sooner, but I have been very busy, working in the daytime and sewing at night. Well we have been having some beautiful weather, but I think we will have rain soon, it looks so cloudy tonight. They have all been talking about the factory closing, but I think it will be like it was before; it will just keep running.  Bonnie was laid off this morning and don’t have to go back until Monday. There are a lot of girls out of work there now. I suppose we cuff girls will have work as long as any is left. I haven’t had my glasses on since I wrote to you before. I would like to have seen you Sunday, but you could not have stayed very long and go back on that afternoon train.

Yes, Helen Walker speaks now. She stopped me this evening as I past there and talked quite a while. I like her mother very much. Clara Reed was over here Sunday evening but did not speak to me. She didn’t like it because I was out on the porch while she was over here. She told Bonnie she was afraid I would think that she wanted to make up. Well I must close for it is getting late. I hope that you can get to come up before very long. Hoping to see you soon I will close for this time, From Your True Friend, Bessie.

Bessie Coen returns to Charleston to take care of children

18 Wednesday Mar 2015

Posted by chaplines2014 in Caring, People

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Carl and Bessie- True Friends

Bessie Coen Bessie Coen

Charleston, Nov. 25, 1913 [Mr. Carl Warfel, Rose Hill] 

Dear Friend,

Vena and I have been thinking for quite a while, that we would write you a few lines, but kept putting it off and have not written; and now we are going to write you a Thanksgiving letter. I am at Charleston now. I’ve been sewing for Vena and Belle and we have been having some good times. Tonight there are eight children here, all under twelve years of age, and Vena and I have been entertaining them, while their parents are gone to the Opera. 

We have been making fudge and popping corn. They certainly seem to be enjoying themselves. I am so glad that we can make them happy. Vena and I sure had a grand time when we were down at your house, last July. I was working at a dress-maker’s shop here in Charleston, then we moved to Mattoon and I had to quit work and have not been working away from home since then. I do not like Mattoon, but I try to be satisfied, for it is so much better for papa, as he works there all the time. 

Well I must close, for there will be no room for Vena to write. This is so near Thanksgiving that we should be thankful for many things and most of all for all things good. I hope this will find you and all the rest well. Best wishes to all. Please answer. From Bessie Coen.

Letter from the “Good Old Days”…things gotta change

01 Sunday Mar 2015

Posted by chaplines2014 in People, Racial Prejudice

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Carl and Bessie- True Friends

Bessie Coen

Bessie Coen

Rose Hill, July 19, 1914 [Miss Bessie Coen, Marshall Ave 3201, Mattoon] 

Dear Bessie, I will answer your most kind and welcome letter which I received last Friday and was sure glad to hear from you. How are you standing this hot weather? I suppose that you are at the park now. It is 7:30 clock. I would sure like to be with you. It seems like a long time since I saw you. I am thinking about going up to my sisters one day this week. If I do I think I will drive over next Sunday eve if I can but Bessie don’t look for me until you see me coming. 

Oh that was too bad about that colored man. I don know when things are gonna change but they got to. I had some bad luck the other evening. One of the horses run away with me but I didnt get hurt very bad. I got two ribs broken But I get out pretty lucky. I havent worked much since. I am going to try to work tomorrow. Well Bessie I must close for this time. Answer soon. Good by from your true friend, CW

 

Letter from the “Good Old Days”… sunset laws

27 Friday Feb 2015

Posted by chaplines2014 in People, Racial Prejudice

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Carl and Bessie- True Friends

Bessie Coen

Bessie Coen

Mattoon, Illinois, July 15, 1914 [Mr. Carl Warfel, Rose Hill]

Dear Carl,

I received your welcome letter this week and was so glad to hear from you. I have just been helping mamma in the garden, and can hardly write. If we don’t have some rain pretty soon I don’t think that we will have much garden. I know you are glad when night comes these hot days; the air is a little cooler then. Papa is not helping bail hay now. He is working on the subway now. 

There was a lot of excitement in this part of town one day last week. A colored man got off the train and began to run. One of the police saw him and started running after him. Soon a large crowd had joined him and the colored man ran down Cottage Ave. and through the shop yards then down Marshall almost to our house then down Marion past where we did live. By the time the crowd got here it certainly was a crowd. We thought there was a big fire some place near, but soon saw what they were after. The fellow got just outside of town, ran into a corn field and dropped to rest. The police found him unable to go any farther, and they had to haul him back to town. He almost died before he got to town though. They locked him up but next morning turned him loose. Someone had told him that colored men not working here were not allowed to stop here, and I guess he was getting out as soon as he could. He thanked the police for not shooting at him. He was so polite but the people were so awful. It’s hard to believe that people can be so mean, and policemen to boot. 

Have you had any rain down there since you were here. We haven’t had any rain for a long time. They had a good rain at Charleston and Loxa not long ago, but not any here. Well I must quit writing for the postman will be here pretty soon. I write long letters and don’t say anything either. Write soon.

From your True Friend, Bessie.

A letter from the “Good Old Days”…in the Mattoon shirt factory

26 Thursday Feb 2015

Posted by chaplines2014 in People

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Carl and Bessie- True Friends

Bessie Coen

Bessie Coen

Mattoon, Illinois, Feb. 18, 1914 [to: Mr. Carl Warfel, Rose Hill]

Dear Carl,

I received your welcome letter yesterday and was so very glad to hear from you. It seems a very long time since you were here. You said that it was fine sleighing when you wrote, but I think that it would be better boat riding now.

I got my valentines and chewing gum all right. The gum was fine and the valentines were just as pretty as they could be. I got your card too.

You said that you didn’t suppose that I had worked at the factory during the bad weather last week, but I went every day. I came home at noon on Mon., I got too sleepy and tired to sew, but I went every day the rest of the week. Men take one horse and snow plows and clean some of the snow off the walks, but we girls always had to go too early for them. We almost froze at work all last week, they couldn’t heat the factory, and we worked with our coats on all the time, but our fingers would get so cold that we could hardly use the scissors. I didn’t go to work at all this Monday, it was so cold early in the morning that I supposed it would be that way all day.

Clara Reed (the girl right across the road in that house in front of us, you know) works at the factory, and she walks to work with us and we have some great times. This morning the walks were covered with ice, and Bonnie kept falling all the way to work. Clara and I laughed at her until I know all the people between here and the factory will know us by the way we laugh all the time.

I wrote Vena a card since she went home, but I haven’t heard from her yet.

A janitor at the North School here in Mattoon fell and broke his back this morning, when he was carrying ashes out of the building. Gladys Howard fell on the walk and struck her head on something, and came to work crying. So many people fall on the walks and hurt themselves when there is so much sleet and freezing. Well I know that you will not want to put in all your time trying to make out what this scratching is so I will close. I will have to sew some tonight and it is now 8:30 so I guess that I had better get to work. I didn’t sew much last week at night. Answer real soon. I hope that it will not be so very, very long before I see you. Bonnie and I have just been learning a song “The Factory Girl” that we found in one of our papers and mamma knows the tune, and nearly all the girls in the factory are crazy about it. I will try and sing when you come up. Its just about all right, I think. I will stop writing this time. I guess I’ll not sew tonight. I’m most too sleepy.

From Your True Friend, Bessie.

Write soon.

He left his mark….

12 Monday Jan 2015

Posted by chaplines2014 in People

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Carl and Bessie- True Friends, Our Land! Our People!, Serendipity

People used to “sign” their important documents with a mark, sometimes a simple “X,” sometimes some other personal symbol, or even a ring impression in wax. My grandfather sent love letters to his wife-to-be on a nearly daily basis for four years, and signed them RCW, not because he couldn’t spell his own name, though he invented the spelling of a lot of the words he used. Grandpa did not really write anything. He printed, and he did not print well.  As he reminisced about his elementary school education, he acknowledged that he preferred to hunt and farm when he was a youngster. He did not spend many days in school. He wanted his children to do better, and they did.

One afternoon in the 1950’s we went to visit Grandma and Grandpa, who lived an hour away from us. We did not find them at home, so we went on to visit someone else in the vicinity, but when we returned to our home, we found notes all around the outside of our house and yard with the sentence, “Kilroy was here.” That was as close to Grandpa’s signing his name “Roy” as I ever saw, but most people knew him as “Carl” anyway.

When I was in school the Palmer Method cursive letters surrounded the classroom. We expended much effort practicing those flowing shapes, holding the pen correctly, not flexing the wrist, but using the whole arm in writing cursive. Even our signatures followed the method. Later my banker brother said that I must individualize my signature, or anyone would be able to copy it who knew how to write.  His was truly unique.

Times have changed. Signatures mostly look like people have been coached in signing by their physicians. Illegible marks. Keyboarding has replaced anachronistic cursive in many schools. We return to the mark as sign. When many of our documents require a virtual signature over the Internet, and we never see one another in the process of signing, the X may be more than what is really necessary.

I think about this in connection with my wife’s great-great grandfather whose life I have been researching and trying to reconstruct over several years. He bought and sold many properties during the last half (twenty years) of his life, and the deeds were recorded in the county record book with the notation of “his mark.” Did he know how to read or write or print? We won’t find an answer in those records in which many people “made their mark” who knew how to read. Many knew languages that are no longer spoken or written there, including him, so it may not have been a matter of education that marks were made, but merely a matter of trust. He was there. He made his mark.

Some of the most revered people in history left no inscribed marks of any kind. Perhaps the one most dear to many of us is known still most completely by his cross-shaped X. He left his mark.

A Letter from the “Good old Days”…Happy 100th Wedding Anniversary…on Christmas Eve 2014!

16 Tuesday Dec 2014

Posted by chaplines2014 in People, Seasons

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Carl and Bessie- True Friends

Bessie Coen

Bessie Coen

Carl Warfel wrote to his “True Friend” Bessie Coen on December 9, 1914:

“Well Bessie I am going up to Janesville tomorrow. I will be just 10 mile from you. I will be there about a week. I think it has been just a week ago today since I seen you but it seems like two weeks to me. I will try and come up next Sunday if I can. The trains don’t run to suit me and I can’t come every time I want to.  . . . Well I guess I must close for this time. Answer soon. Good by. from your true friend Carl to Bessie. Think of what I ask you.”

“Think of what I ask of you.” That was all he wrote. He knew that Bessie’s father said that he was no longer reading all of their mail, but he still kept the request ambiguous.

Bessie wrote back several times without revealing anything, but on December 23 she wrote:

“I just got home from grandma’s & had such a good time. Hasn’t this been a dreadful cold time? I thought so Sunday morning. I missed the city car, walked to town & saw the 8 o’clock car leave Mattoon. I went at 9:30. I didn’t have to walk there though. I am sorry that your hand isn’t well yet. Well, Carl, I will try to be ready when you come. I am so nervous I can hardly write, I have been carrying my suitcase from the car line. Well, I must close & go to town or this letter will not leave Mattoon today. I will be ready tomorrow. With love from Bessie Coen to Carl W.

On Christmas Eve, December 24, 1914, Carl and Bessie married. Now one hundred years, eleven children, sixty-some grandchildren(counting spouses), who knows how many great and great-great grandchildren (I am confident Bessie does from her new point of view), we celebrate those true friends who remained true until Carl’s death February 26, 1971, fifty-seven years later.

Happy one hundredth anniversary, Carl and Bessie!

the old ugly rocking chair

24 Monday Nov 2014

Posted by chaplines2014 in Caring, House, People

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Carl and Bessie- True Friends

Many years ago my grandfather, Carl Warfel, entrusted me with an item of great value to him—an old rocking chair. He could not say that he enjoyed sitting in it. I had the impression that no one had sat in it in for many years. It was in several pieces, having come unglued. It was missing its upholstered seat. He could not say that it was good looking either. Black and red casein stain covered its parts in random patches, a stain that came from soot and iron ore mixed with sour milk. The colors had worn to dull hues, bare where hands and other body parts had rubbed them off. Its claim to value lay in the family story that this rocker had sat by the fireplace in a cabin near Charleston, Illinois, in the 1840’s and 50’s. The owner, a cabinetmaker and carpenter, may have fashioned this one-of-a-kind design, and the rare times his lawyer son visited, while riding his court circuit through nearby Charleston, his son would sit in that chair and call it his favorite.

So the rocker came to me, as one entrusted with a pearl of great price. Of his many grandchildren I was the one who had shown some interest in antique furniture and refinishing, therefore the natural choice for its stewardship or rockership. I didn’t have the slightest idea what to do with it. My first inclination was to get rid of that awful black and red color, because the worn places revealed an unidentifiable wood of some quality, and the hand-lathed spools on back and legs and arms had charm. Fortunately no paint stripper or chemical that I had knew about could touch the stain. I say fortunately because those ugly colors date and locate the piece.

Since I did not know what to do with it, I took the remaining pieces apart and kept it in a large box where it sat for forty years. The chair challenged me to glue it back together, tung oil its wood back to a satin luster, and take it to an upholsterer for covering with a period fabric and pattern. No one alive could vouch for the story that came with the chair, but the thing is obviously old enough. Thomas Lincoln’s next door neighbors were my grandmother’s great aunt and uncle, and they may have purchased Lincoln’s household furniture when he died, but I have not been able to verify that family story.

Finally, in the year that I retired, I finished the rocking chair. Do you have any such prizes in your possession? Probably you are a better caretaker than I have been. Do you have a story worth telling, and can you vouch for it better than I? No object can mean that much, but sometimes with certain objects we can bear a testimony to values worth treasuring.

Our treasure should never be consigned to a box, stored out of sight and forgotten. Alas, that is where many people keep their stories and their valuables. The value is not available until you bring it out and put it to use, reassemble and try it out in daily life, and put the story into words and actions that echo the original experience, faint or dim or ugly though they may sometimes be in our rockership.

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