TRAGIC LOSS OF THREE SISTERS

When I came home from school on May 20, 1950, I found a note from my dear mother.

Dear Jimmy,

I decided to go to St. Louis and went to city with Lucile (Howell) this afternoon.  Will be back Sunday night or Monday.   Can you buy a cake at A&A for your party, get it in the morning or a noon.  I hate to leave you but think you will get along alright.  There is steak in the refrigerator and eat most of your meals out.  I will give you some money next week.  Feed Ted (our dog) tonight.

Love, Mom

PS Get large envelopes to send pictures and invitations ( my high school graduation was the following week).

The next day a family friend, Waldo Porr, came to our home with the sad news of the plane crash.  Even after 61 years I find it very difficult to write about that day.  But as cousin Dorothy Lee said the event would be of “little reality” for our children and grandchildren and should be told.

Below is our late cousin, Dorothy Caffey McGregor’s story about the plane crash that took the lives of Pauline Guernsey, Luella Caffey  (Dorothy, Gene and Bill’s mother) and Alida Anderson, the mother of Marjorie and me.

Story from Dorothy Lee

Picture before loading. Left to right, Elmo Innes, Alida Anderson, Luella Caffey and Minnie Innes. This is my favorite picture of mother.

Pilot and Alida (my mother) in the seat next to the pilot, before take-off.

Picture taken the day of the wedding. I believe the picture above the sisters is one of their Aunt Beth Honderick's watercolors. Seated left to right, Alida, Pauline, Minnie, Luella.

As Dorothy said it was a day the world fell apart.  I had turned 18 and was suddenly on my own.  I was probably going to our local Phillips University as mother was not certain we could afford Oklahoma A&M.  My dear sister Marjorie and her husband Bud Anderson packed me up (one suitcase) and took me to Washington D.C. where they lived.

I only wish Luella and Alida’s grandchildren could have known what sweet and loving their grandmothers were.

I can honestly say that I can not ever remember my mother raising her voice to me, though I certainly deserved it.

Jim Lee