Chapter 29

                               MEMORIES OF ORREN ALBERT ANDERSON

         This story is written especially for my daughters, Debra, Sally and Tricia and our grandchildren, Elliot, Madeline, Adam, Kathleen, Andy and Hayden.  Also, for Marjories daughters, Sharon and Robyn.  Stories about their grandparents that I am so sorry they did not get to know.  Grandfather Orren (chapter 29) and grandmother Alida (chapter 30).

On June 18, 1942, the family (Orren, Alida, Marjorie, and Jim Lee) started their move to Portland, Oregon.  Orren had accepted an administrative position with a firm that built battle ships for World War II.  Our first stop was going to be Strong City, Oklahoma, where Orren and Alida’s parents  lived.  Mother had packed her home made strawberry jelly to give to our grandparents.  The Pontiac was loaded with all our worldly possessions, the furniture was sold.  Orren had secured four brand new synthetic tires.  Tires were rationed and almost impossible to buy, due to the war effort.

Marjorie was just turning 16 and dad decided to let her drive.  About eleven miles west of Enid the car had a rear tire blow out.  The tire installer had mistakenly pinched the tube while mounting the tire, which later caused the blow out.  The car rolled over three times landing on its top.  Dad had been thrown approximately 50 feet from where the car landed (there were no car seat belts in 1942).  I had strawberry jelly all over me; mother thought I was badly injured.  Mother and Marjorie were fine, but Dad died a short time later in the Enid Baptist Hospital.  The accident was 75 years ago and I had just turned 10 years old.  Today, I still recall every minute of that tragic day.

                                               Orren Albert Anderson, 1898-1942

Memories of my father span only a few years, between the age of 4 and 10.  My earliest memories, age 4, were in Hennessey.  Even though I was a rather “active” child, I can not recall a spanking or reprimand from my parents. The following are memories that certainly could have called for punishment;  

 My best friend, Jimmy Binkley and I were setting on the curb throwing rocks at cars that passed by.  One rock hit a window of a car that immediately turned around and headed to my dad’s car agency to have his window replaced, free.    When my sister, Marjorie, was having her 10^th birthday party, I walked by myself downtown to a dress shop and told them I needed a birthday dress for my sister.  The clerk knew Orren and Alida, so she wrapped a dress and I gave her my nickel.  After moving to Enid, Dad came home finding me digging a hole by the side of the house.  He asked why,  I said I was going to bury that little Vater girl, who I did not like.    Dad caught me smoking a hollow weed stem in the house, and later one of his cigars. While climbing on our roof, I got caught between the chimney and steep roof, dad sent his wrecker truck to rescue me.  There were other memories, like being expelled from grade school, that all went un-punished ? ?  Maybe that is why I have nothing but fond memories of my parents and no spankings. Maybe Orren was also an “active” child growing up on his folks ranch and thought nothing of my escapades?

The above picture of Orren (my favorite)is the only one I have where he is not in a suit and tie .After work he enjoyed riding his horse with the Enid Round Up Club.

Orren was a friendly and happy person. Enjoyed a  good poker or bridge game. His favorite song went “roll out the barrel were going to have a barrell of fun”. I enjoyed going to his Pontiac Agency, sitting in the brand new cars and pestering the mechanics.  He had many friends, was an active member of the Masonic Lodge and the First Baptist Church.

  I was blessed to be his son.  

Chapter 30 to follow, with memories of your grandmother Alida Guernsey Anderson.