Giving Up Vivian and Dale II, part one

Leta stood in the doorway, looking out at the rain. It was only one in the afternoon, but the day was as dark as early evening. The sun had given up on sharing its friendly light to an unhappy world and decided to go elsewhere. As it was mid-February and the height of winter, everything was a dull gray—streets, grass, trees, bushes, even the houses across the street had their colors muted. The rain was steady and cold. There was little wind, and she did not believe that the temperature would decrease enough to freeze the water or turn the rain to sleet. Instead, they would simply have this dull, relentless rain.

How did people who lived in rainy climates stand it?

She used to like the rain. As a teenager, she enjoyed putting on her rain garments and aggressively greeting the weather as something to be conquered. Getting wet meant little; she could always dry off later by sitting by the fire, drinking hot tea and feeling the warmth flow from her inside to her outside. However, as a teenager, she had no children. Now she did, and as a parent, she was responsible for protecting them from anything that would hurt them or impede their growth and maturity. When they were babies, she loved bundling them and draping them in blankets. She would carry them close to her, using her own body to shield them from the elements. Sometimes she held them so closely to her that she could smell their breath, a sweet milky fragrance.

As they turned into toddlers, she would hold their hands to keep them in balance and close. But at that age the rain began to fascinate them. They would tug against her grip, trying to pull themselves away to explore the wonders of worms and puddles. When they started school, all she could do was dress them properly for the elements. After that, it was up to them to refrain from reckless behavior. She had taught them to stay as dry as they could, to avoid dangerous situations, and pay attention to their surroundings. Once, at about age six, her son Dale misjudged a puddle and got his foot caught in a crevice of the sidewalk. To free himself, he twisted his ankle. With the help of his older sister Vivian, he limped all the way home. All he had on the one foot was his sock, because (he told her) the shoe was still stuck. After stripping him and redressing him in dry clothes, and putting ice on the swelling ankle, Leta went out into the rain herself to retrieve the captive shoe. Later, as he hobbled to the supper table, she mentioned with her motherly air of knowingness that she hoped he had learned his lesson about stomping in puddles. At that time, the rain was an annoyance.

Now the rain seemed like an enemy, mocking and taunting her flagging spirit.

All these years, she tried to protect her children, instill in them a sense of right and wrong and provide them with the tools they would need to be successful adults. She also wanted to provide for them. When she left their father Ralph, she did so only when she knew that she was going to give Vivian and Dale a better life with a better father. Albert was everything she could have wished for them—and for her. The four of them lived happily together for five years. Every day was like a bright spring morning with the sweet fragrance of dew and flowers in the air and birds providing a musical accompaniment. They had a home, food, clothing, heat and cash in their pockets. But Albert’s sudden death left her a widow with two dependent children. She married Ora Freeman out of necessity and the belief that he could provide. But he couldn’t—or maybe wouldn’t—she doubted she would ever know which. They were hungry, in debt and lacking all the basic living necessities. Ora was absent and neglectful.

In divorcing him, Leta thought that she would be making a positive change. She hoped that by going through the process Ora would resume his family obligations, or at least the courts would require that he provide for her.

Foolishness.

Ora would not change. He would not open his eyes. Certainly, he still wanted her to be his wife, but he made no effort to accommodate even her most basic needs. As for her children, Ora could not be bothered.

What was a woman to do?

To be continued.

Claud Bassett data

My great-grandmother Leta Scott's fifth husband, Claud Nelson Bassett, was born on February 16, 1886 in Kalamo, MI. His parents were Albert Bassett and Sarah Paulding. According to the 1900 census, he was the fourth of eight children.

On March 21, 1907, when he was 21, he married Bertha R. Kohlman (age 22) in Palmyra, Lenawee, Michigan. He was a farmer. If she had an occupation, it was not listed in the marriage register. In fact, for the brides listed, there was not even a column for occupation. Bertha was born on June 21, 1936.

In 1910, according to the census, he was boarding at the Hewitt residence in Wolsey, Beadle, South Dakota, and his wife Bertha was not with him. Hewitt owned a residence, and obviously, a boarding house. Claud was a house carpenter.

On September 12, 1918, when he was 32 years old, Claud registered for the draft for World War I. He was living in Lewanee Township, Michigan with his wife Bertha at the time. Due to his age and the late date of registration, he most likely never served.

The 1920 census reports that Claud and Bertha were living in Madison Township, Lewanee, Michigan. He was a farmer. By the time of the 1930 census, Claud and Bertha were living in Bradford Township, Monroe, Michigan. He listed his occupation as a house carpenter.

Between the census and 1936, Claud and Bertha divorced, because when she died on June 21, 1936, she was listed as being divorced. She died in Toledo, Ohio at age 52.

In 1938, at age 56(!), Claud registered for the draft for World War II. At the time, he was working at Libby Owens Ford in the Research Department in Toledo, Ohio. He was living in Toledo, Ohio and listed Mrs. Emma Bassett as his contact.

Emma Bassett was his second wife. The 1940 census notes that Claud and his wife Emma were living with Fred and Marie Fischer, and he was brother-in-law to Fred. As of yet, I have not found Claud and Emma’s marriage record or if Fred was Emma’s brother or Marie was her sister.

In January 1946, Emma Bassett died.

On December 30, 1948, in Angola, Steuben County, Indiana, Leta Scott Fields married Claud Bassett. He listed his occupation as farmer and shared that he had been married twice previously; both wives had died. Leta noted that she worked at a shipyard and had been married four times previously; she divorced her first husband and the subsequent three had died, the most recent (who was Robert Fields) in June 1946. (She had, in fact, been married five times.) Both stated that they lived in Toledo, Ohio.

On October 14, 1952, Leta was granted a divorce from Claud in Lucas County. She alleged that he had been guilty of extreme cruelty. She also returned to the name Leta Fields.

Claud N. Bassett died on August 11, 1953, in Toledo, Ohio “after a 4-year illness.” He was 67 years old and living in the Lucas County Home for the aged. He had formerly been living with his brother Albert at the same address he had at the time of his divorce from Leta.

Leech Hoose data

My great-grandmother Leta Scott's fourth husband Leech Francis Hoose was born on February 6, 1897 in New London, Ohio to Albert Hoose and Florence Leech. He appears to be the youngest of five children. His first name was his mother’s maiden name. At the time of the 1900 census, Leech Hoose was three years old. He was living in New London, Ohio, Huron County. His siblings were Albert (born in 1887), Lloyd (born in 1889), Clare (born in 1893) and Mabel (born in 1895). The census also notes that Bertha A. Martain (perhaps Martin), age 21 also lived with the family, daughter of Florence and stepdaughter of Albert. She had a 7-month old daughter named Frances. Perhaps her husband had a job somewhere that temporarily took him away, or he had joined the service.

Between 1900 and 1910 there were some changes in the Hoose household. His mother Florence passed away on January 11, 1906, and his father Albert married a woman named Ida Long who had a child—Sedrick—a year older than Leech. The 1910 census notes that the Albert Leech household included his son Albert (age 22), daughters Clare (age 17) and Mable (age 15) and Leech (age 13). Son/brother Lloyd, who would have been twenty years old, was not in the household.

On May 24, 1915, at age 18, Leech married (Irene) Goldie Goodall (age 17) in Richland County, Ohio. Goldie Goodall was born on January 22, 1898 in Hansford, Nanawha, West Virginia. Leech listed his occupation as farmer. Their son Laurence Donald Hoose was born on September 10, 1917 and died on November 10, 1917.

On June 5, 1918, Leech (age 21) registered for the draft for World War I. At that time he was working at Goodyear Tires and Rubber Co. in Akron, Ohio. I have not been able to learn yet whether he served or not.

Although the War was over by the 1920 census, the records show that Goldie, age 21, and son Lloyd C. Hoose, age 3, were living with her parents in New Haven Township, Huron County, Ohio. There is no census record for Leech. A blurb in the October 3, 1919 Sandusky Reporter, I suspect, explains their separation. Although the newspaper was unavailable, there was a search reference that quotes Goldie Leech as stating that she just didn’t love him any more. Nonetheless, Leech and Goldie were together again before they permanently separately and did have other children: Madalene (born 1922) and Howell (born 1924). Howell died on July 28, 1948 at age 24.

Leech Hoose married my great-grandmother Leta (Scott) Freeman on March 2, 1929 in Wood County, Ohio. He was 32 years old; she was 35. According to the marriage license, Leech was a widower. However, that is not accurate.

The 1940 census states that Goldie Hoose, age 42, was the divorced head of household with two children (Madalene Hoose, age 18 and Howell Hoose, age 16) and a lodger, Albeno Pertz, age 48, from Spain residing with her in Canton, Ohio.

Leech and Leta lived in Toledo, Ohio. He filed for divorce on October 8, 1931. He also filed an affidavit of poverty, that he was “without sufficient financial means to prepay or give security for costs of” the filing. The formal divorce notification was not with the divorce record.

After his divorce from Leta, there is little information about him. In 1942, at age 45, he registered for the draft for World War II. He was living in Canton, Ohio and working at Republic Steel Corp. in Canton.

Leech died on February 10, 1965. He was 68 years old, married and living in Canton, Ohio. He is buried in Forest Hill Cemetery, Canton.

Thinking & Re-Thinking

Once I make up my mind and pursue a certain path, I don't generally like to change. Oh sure, I think of myself as someone who recognizes a good idea or a better idea than what has already been offered. I am willing to pursue the new or better, but when it comes to altering in the middle or past the middle of a pursued project, then I have conflict.

At my college alma mater, Wittenberg University in Ohio, one of the graduation requirements was for seniors to complete separate written and oral components of material in their majors. For my English major, I presented a paper on Bertolt Brecht’s The Good Woman of Setzuan as my oral component. The presentation was before a panel of three professors: the senior seminar instructor, a professor with some specialty in the subject matter selected by the department and a professor of my own choosing. For the written component, the department gave us a comprehensive exam (with some leeway since not everyone took exactly the same classes). To assist us, the department gave us a list of at least one hundred significant terms and individuals. The test would have a certain number of these. The object was to refresh oneself on what one already knew (and learn a little bit of new information). My friend Jennifer Baer and I prepared for the written test together. I have photographs of us sitting on my dorm room floor with cups of tea, homemade banana bread and stacks of books around us. We also supported each other through the oral presentations. Jennifer selected several of Shakespeare’s sonnets. After she completed her presentation, I checked in with her. She was relieved to be finished and a little anxious. The reason for the anxiety was that she changed her presentation right before she made it. A new idea popped into her knowledgeable head, and she had the wherewithal and confidence in her understanding to follow that.

I was flabbergasted. I remembered immediately being in acting class a couple of years prior. For a scene, my pal Leslie Overturf and I were assigned Ketti Frings’ Pulitzer Prize-winning stage adaptation of Thomas Wolfe’s Look Homeward, Angel. Our scene was the first meeting between the awkward hero Eugene and Miss Brown. When it was our turn to perform the scene, I made a quick decision to change my characterization. I had decided that I was putting too much of myself into the portrayal and subsequently played him a little more aloof. This was an unsuccessful decision. Leslie was confused, and the entire scene went poorly.

Now, here I am, in the midst of writing the chapter of my great-grandmother’s marriage to Leech Hoose and considering a timeline change. While I do have some information about this marriage (beginning and end dates, as well as the divorce filing), there are no details of the relationship. The marriage seemed hasty (only eight days after her divorce from the previous husband, Ora Freeman). However, the divorce occurred several months after the initial filing. And there is a strong indication that she had financial challenges.

There is also in my great-grandmother’s history a moment when she turned custody of her children to their father, her first husband Ralph Chetister. Due to the data that there was a considerable length of time between the divorce from Leech Hoose and the next marriage, and the ages of my grandmother and great-uncle, I have determined that the dissolution of the marriage to Leech Hoose is connected to the abandonment of the children. In fact, I have built the marriage to Leech Hoose around this, making it a very tense and unhappy marriage.

The marriage may well have been tense and unhappy. After all, it did not last very long, and following it, my great-grandmother lived a rather wild life, according to family reports, before settling down with Robert Fields more than seven years later. However, the children may or may not have been a part of the marriage to Leech Hoose. I have already placed the children in the home of Leech and Leta Hoose and built the story around this, but lately I’ve been feeling inclined to think that she may have left her children with Ralph between the marriages to Ora Freeman and Leech Hoose.

The trouble is I am entrenched in the original version.

One of the writing skills that I’ve learned over time is the importance of re-writing. Yes, the initial writing is energetic and inspired and passionate, but it is in re-writing that the crafting occurs. I actually like the revising and strengthening of a piece of writing. And I rarely have difficulty in altering a paragraph or making some small changes in the initial writing But this one, this redoing an entire chapter, altering a life segment, before I’ve finished with the initial idea, is a challenge. Accepting the timeline alteration would require rewriting two chapters: the one focusing on her marriage to Ora Freeman and the one covering her period of her relationship with Leech Hoose. Ugh!

For now, I am continuing on the same path, but stay tuned. There are changes in the air.

Leech Hoose, part twelve

All had gone so well in October, when Leta and her children Vivian and Dale celebrated her fiance Leech Hoose’s birthday, that Leta was confident that adding Leech to her family, moving her children into his home and setting up house would be a smooth and easy transition.

On their first evening as a family, however, only two days after she and Leech married and the first night that the four of them were together for a meal, hostility and uncertainty floated in the air. She had merely been attempting light conversation, but her new husband ferociously told her to stop.

They continued their meal in silence. Leech finished first and rose.

“I will be back,” he said.

He left the kitchen. Leta and her children listened to him retrieve his coat and hat. As the temperature had dropped significantly that evening, Leta almost reminded him to wear his scarf, but thought better of it and refrained. A few moments later the front door opened and closed. Leta was relieved he did not slam the door. But she was perplexed by his hostility. The children were watching her.

“Now,” she said after a few more moments, “finish your supper. You have some unpacking to do and then bed. Have you done your homework?”

“Yes, Ma,” Vivian said. Both finished eating, more picking at their meal than enjoying it. As for Leta, she sipped her coffee quietly.

She had been drinking coffee much of the day, with cream. She liked cream, but forfeited it as a luxury when she and her children suffered hard times.

“Aren’t you going to eat, Ma?” Dale asked as he finished his meal.

“No my darling,” she answered. “I’m not very hungry.”

“May I have your chicken?”

“Of course,” she said, lifting her plate. “Do you want the beans, too?”

“I’ll take them,” Vivian offered.

She served her son the chicken and her daughter the beans. Then she stood with the empty plate. She watched her children eat for a moment. They both looked thin.

“I also want you to each have another piece of bread and butter before you get up from the table.”

Vivian looked up quizzically.

“You’re looking a little thin,” Leta explained.

“I’m really hungry,” Dale said as he reached for the bread.

Leech returned to the house two hours later. Dale had just gone to bed. Leta and Vivian were sitting in the living room. Upon his arrival, Vivian put down the book she was reading and started to leave the room.

“Good evening, ladies,” Leech said with a smile. “May I join you? What are you reading, my dear?”

He reached for Vivian’s book, and she handed it to him. “Dickens?”

“It’s for my literature class,” Vivian said.

“Great Expectations. Do you like it?”

“Yes, pretty much. Last year we read Oliver Twist, and I liked that one much better.”

“He’s a foreigner, isn’t he? Dickens?” Leech questioned.

“English,” Vivian explained.

“Don’t know why they don’t teach American writers,” Leech said with some disappointment. “These hoity toity Britishers put false ideas into young people’s heads. They have a class system over there, you know. We fought a revolution to keep our money here, and now schools is buying books that support them.”

“He’s a good writer,” Vivian offered weakly.

“Yeah, sure. Anyway, carry on,” he concluded with a wave of his hand. Vivian left the room.

Leech plopped down beside Leta, gently pressing against her.

“How are you this evening, wife?” he inquired, planting a kiss on her cheek before she could deflect him. He wrapped one arm around her and squeezed. As her hands were in her lap holding one of Dale’s hand-me-down shirts she was altering to fit his smaller frame, his embrace compressed and trapped her.

“Fine,” she said insecurely. “How are you?”

“Very fine,” he answered with a smile and pressed into her even more.

“Did you have a good evening?” he inquired.

“Yes,” she answered. “After supper, the children and I had a quiet time here.”

“Did they finish unpacking?”

“Mostly,” she answered. “What we brought this afternoon. My brother-in-law Hiram will bring the rest tomorrow.”

“Good,” he said. “I want them to think of this as their home.”

An unexpected warmth rushed through Leta, and without realizing it, she pressed into her husband a little bit.

“And how was your evening?” she asked.

“Just fine,” he said.

“Are you hungry?” she continued. “Can I get you anything?”

“I am hungry,” he said. “Do you have any of that pie left?”

“Why, yes, of course,” she said, pulling herself away from him. “Would you like some coffee to go with it?”

“That sounds excellent.”

He followed her into the kitchen where poured both of them a cup of coffee. Then she cut him a slice of pie. After she put the plate in front of him, she went to the icebox.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“Getting cream for my coffee,” she answered.

“Hold off on that a second and try it without.”

“I like cream in my coffee,” she explained.

“Of course, you do, but I want you to first try it the way it is,” he encouraged. “I—let’s just say I doctored it up a bit.”

She looked at him suspiciously.

“All right, but I’m not sure I like this.”

She sipped the coffee, and her face brightened. He had added some alcohol. It was an unfamiliar taste to her.

“Oh my!” she exclaimed. “What is it?”

“Irish coffee,” he said with a smile.

“You got Irish…?” she started.

“…Whiskey,” he smiled. “Yepper. “One of the guys at work brought it back from his visit to the old country.”

Then he produced a flask from his pocket.

“It’s not much, but it sure is tasty.”

“I’ll say,” she agreed, taking another sip.

A pleasant conversation followed, and a short time later they went to bed.

Concluded…for now.

Leech Hoose, part eleven

It was a simple birthday celebration. That was all Leta could afford, and in truth, she could not really afford that. The pork roast and cake would require more sacrifice for her and her children, but she and Mr. Leech Hoose were engaged to be married as soon as her divorce from the unreliable and inept Ora Freeman was finalized. The little party was her way of initiating family. While she had known Leech for nearly a year, her children had yet to meet him.

She had just served the meal. Although her children waited for her to be seated to say the table grace, Leech started to eat immediately. Both were looking at her with confusion, so she raised her glass of whiskey.

“A Toast!”

Her fiance stopped eating and looked up. The children raised their glasses of water.

As Leta continued, Leech watched.

“To Mr. Leech Hoose, a fine working man. May God bless him—you—on your birthday and throughout the coming year. We give thanks for you, this food and all of our blessings.”

“Amen!” Dale exclaimed.

Leech was startled, but stopped eating and raised his glass.

By the time Leta cut the cake, the quartet was engaging in jovial banter. Leech even showed them how he could balance a glass on his head. Although Dale tried several times, he could not master the trick. All he succeeded in doing was making his mother nervous about breaking the glass.

“That’s enough,” Leta declared after the fifth attempt.

“Sorry, my boy,” Leech said sympathetically. “But you’re missing the most important element for the trick to work.”

“What’s that?” Dale inquired with exasperation.

“Flat head,” Leech said, tapping the side of his temple with one finger.

As she cleared away the last of the cake plates, Leta asked if Leech wanted anything else. He leaned back and patted his slightly bulging stomach.

“No, thank you, Leta,” he said. “I’m plum full. I couldn’t eat another bite. That was an excellent meal.”

“Thank you,” she said. “And we’ll wrap up a big chunk of cake for you to take with you.”

“Not necessary,” he said. “I’m not a big cake eater. That one piece will satisfy me until my next birthday.”

Leta’s countenance fell.

“Oh dear,” she said. “If I’d known, I would have made you something else. What do you like? Do you like pie?”

“You got me. I’m a pie man.”

“Then I have to make you a pie,” Leta declared.

“But mother—“ Vivian began.

“I—I know, I know,” Leta interrupted. “We don’t have any fruit in the house. But I could get some apples from Aunt Louise. If you can wait until next weekend, Mr. Hoose.”

Then she cocked her head.

“Wait. Do we have any brown sugar? I could make a butterscotch pie right now.”

“Mmm, butterscotch,” Dale grinned.

“Now, now,” Leech declared, waving his hands in protest, “I won’t have that. No pie tonight. Leta and I have other things to do.”

“We do?” Leta inquired.

“It’s Saturday night, isn’t it?”

“Yes, sir!” Dale agreed.

“Then it’s time to put on our hats and head out,” Leech declared, as he stood.

“Oh,” Leta said, “of course. Give me just a minute to freshen up. Vivian, will you please finish the dishes?”

“Yes, Ma.”

Five minutes later, Leta and Leech headed to the club for their regular Saturday evening repast and continued his birthday celebration until the establishment closed for the night.

To be continued.

Leech Hoose, part ten

They were eating their second meal together. Leta had married Mr. Leech Hoose on Saturday, and on Monday, she and her children Vivian and Dale moved into his house in East Toledo. Before he went to work that morning, she asked him what he wanted for supper, and he requested chicken and potatoes. Her first mistake of the meal was to add green beans. That was easily resolvable, however. She simply served the green beans to the children and herself and gave him her portion of potatoes.

Her second mistake was that she tried to engage her family in conversation during the meal. She wanted her new husband and her children to like each other. She wanted to establish a family dynamic immediately, even though two hours earlier she cautioned her children about upsetting their new stepfather. As a result, she prompted a conversation.  Leech made it clear that he was not interested, but she persisted.

“Shut…your…mouth,” Leech yelled.

Leta was too stunned to speak. She had never heard him raise his voice like this, and he had never been so unpleasant toward her.

At the first meal that the family shared together, he had been friendly and amiable. That meal took place a few months earlier, in early October. For his 35^th birthday, she made him a sumptuous meal of roasted pork, mashed potatoes and gravy, sweet potatoes, and corn with a pineapple upside down cake for dessert. She had also secured a pint of strong whiskey from one of her late husband Albert’s former clients.

When he arrived, Dale, dressed in his Sunday best with his hair slicked down, greeted Mr. Hoose at the door, took his hat and coat, and gestured to the “seat of honor.” Vivian, wearing one of Leta’s nicer dresses brought him the glass of whiskey on a little tray that Leta inherited from her mother. Once he took the glass, Dale pushed a small footstool toward him, enabling Leech to put his feet up slightly.

“Thank you very much, little boy,” Leech said. He finished his drink and handed Vivian the glass, which she hastily refilled. “Good girl.”

“Supper will be ready in a minute,” Leta said from the kitchen area where she was cooking. As their garret didn’t have much of a facility, she had to concentrate on the many elements of the meal to ensure that all would be ready at the same time. “My darlings, why don’t you introduce yourself to Mr. Hoose while I finish up.”

“I’m Vivian,” the girl said.

“I’m Dale. I’m 12,” the boy said eagerly. “Actually I will be 12 tomorrow. Tomorrow is my birthday.”

“So is this a double celebration?” Leech inquired.

“Oh no,” Dale explained, “tonight is special for you. It’s your birthday. Happy Birthday, Mr. Hoose.”

Leech sipped his drink.

“You keep this place nice,” he said.

“We try,” Leta said, “don’t we, Vivian?”

“Yes, Ma,” Vivian agreed.

Both children were still standing near Leech, Vivian holding the small try with the whiskey bottle, and Dale even closer, fidgeting a little with his hands in his pockets, and his eyes focused on their visitor.

“What?” Leech said to him. “Do I got something in my teeth?”

“No, sir,” Dale stuttered and stepped back.

“Dale,” Leta said firmly but gently, “you know it’s not polite to stare.”

“Yes, Ma,” Dale said sheepishly, stepping back and turning toward his mother.

“It smells good,” Leech said.

“Thank you,” Leta said. “I’m making mashed potatoes and gravy to go with the pork roast. I hope that’s all right.”

“Potatoes is good,” Leech said. “I don’t care much for gravy, but most folks like it.”

“We love gravy,” Leta shared, “don’t we, children?”

“Yes, Ma,” Vivian answered.

Leech signaled that he wanted a refill, and she obliged.

A few minutes later, Leta served the meal. They did not have enough room on the table for everything, so she served one item at a time. First, the chicken, then the potatoes, gravy, and some stewed tomatoes.”

“Where did you get stewed tomatoes?” Leech questioned.

“We canned them, Leta answered. “The landlady lets me grow a few tomato plants out back.”

“I love stewed tomatoes!”

“I remembered you telling me, and it’s your birthday, so I thought….”

Although the children waited to say grace, Leech immediately began to eat. When she sat down, Leta looked at her confused children and smiled. Vivian had poured her a glass of whiskey for her mother, which she lifted into the air.

“A toast,” she said.

Leech stopped eating and looked up.

To be continued.