It Was Our World War Too

Prelude — Setting the Mood

I was beginning to think you would never ask, “What’s the difference between a prologue and a prelude?”

My copy of Webster’s New World Dictionary defines a prologue as “…an introduction, foreshadowing greater events.”

Webster’s definition of prelude is very concise, saying it is “…an introduction setting the mood for some event.” Here goes the mood setting.

The stock market had crashed. President Herbert Hoover was trying to stop the continuing decline with voluntary measures. He proclaimed recovery was just around the corner and he asked everyone to be patient.

World War I veterans were in Washington demanding the bonus pay and benefits they were promised at the end of hostilities. President Hoover directed the active Army to evict them. General Douglas MacArthur and Major Dwight Eisenhower were among the Army officers involved, following orders from their Commander-in-Chief, President Hoover.

Germany had accepted, as terms of peace, the full responsibility for the war and its entire cost. This was originally set at $33 billion.

That figure was eventually negotiated down to a negligible amount, in part due to the worsening economic downturn in the world’s economy. The United States military casualties were 126,000 killed and 234,000 wounded.

Unemployment was at 25%. There were very few job opportunities available. Many of those who were employed were working at jobs below their capability and at reduced salaries.

My father was fortunate to have obtained a steady job offer and was able to quit mining.

His job with the woodworking mill, located across from the Kolesa family home, was low paying, but it was steady. Being the only family member with a job, he and my mother helped both of their families survive the Depression.

Dad’s job seemed secure and he liked the owners. The hourly pay was not quite as much as the coal mines, but it was steady, and in the long run he made more per month than the miners did, without the physical risks and the health problems. Also, there was occasionally some overtime pay.

After a few years of steady employment, the Stoltz brothers, the mill owners, offered Mom and Dad the opportunity to buy a two-bedroom house for $4,000 with no money down and payments of $25 a month.

Imagine how difficult it must have been to make a decision of this magnitude during the existing economic climate.

They decided to buy the house, which turned out to be a wise decision. Mom and Dad, Frank Jr., and I had a new address that we would use, along with two other sons that Mom and Dad would soon add to the family.

I would use this address, 425 Hanser Street, Edwardsville, Illinois, until Anita and I were married.

We were living on top of the “Mountain,” actually a large hill on the northwest edge of Edwardsville. It was unofficially called Mt. Nebo.

I have never seen a population breakdown of the area, but my memory tells me that there were at least a hundred homes, with three or four residents per household, living in the area.

I was unable to find any data as to how it got its name. Oral tradition referred to the fact that it is the highest point in Edwardsville. The name Nebo came from the Bible, Mt. Nebo being the mountain from which Moses viewed the Promised Land.

The whole area was well integrated, about one third African American, one third white, and one third mixed, which included several Native Americans and many non-English-speaking Europeans.

To get there you had to go up the hill. To leave you had to go down the hill.

Miss Irma Harris was my first-grade teacher in 1930 when I started school at the age of six, along with some thirty other six-year-old boys and girls. Among them was a striking platinum-blond girl. She was the envy of every other girl in the class. She was a “ten.” The boys and Miss Harris thought so too.

No, it wasn’t Anita. Her name was Verna Mae Rohrkaste. We became classmates and friends. She sat beside me in the third row for the rest of the school year.

Miss Harris was the same teacher my brother Frank had in his first year at school. Her room, number 12, was on the first floor and overlooked the play yard.

Anita was five years old, living on the other side of Edwardsville on Orchard Street. Her brother Howard could walk to high school from their Orchard Street location, and Anita would be able to walk to her elementary school next year with Verna Mae.

My first year in school included two name changes in my rapidly expanding world. Both were traumatic.

My older brother, “Junior,” who was also my mentor as well as my best friend, became “Frank.”

That’s what all the teachers and his classmates called him. I was instructed, and re-instructed, until I learned I was to call him Frank at school and when we were with his friends. As long as I followed those rules he would tolerate Junior at home.

The second name change involved me personally. I can still feel the embarrassment I felt at the time. I had been taught at home to write my name, Thomas Kolesa. Therefore, at school, I very proudly signed my class papers, Thomas.

Miss Harris called me Tom. One day she suggested I sign my papers that way, as there were no others in the class with the name Thomas.

I turned my next paper in to Miss Harris with my name signed “Thom,” with an “h.” This seemed like a very logical way to spell the abbreviated name.

Publicly corrected and embarrassed, I became Tom on that day and remained so all through school, even in the Marine Corps. At home I was still “Buster.”

When I started my formal education, the Edwardsville schools were segregated. Elementary white students went to the Columbus School, where grades one through four were taught. An adjacent building that until a few years earlier was the high school now housed grades five through eight and was called the junior high school. The new high school was built across town.

All Black students attended grades one through twelve at the Lincoln School, located on a tract of land on Main Street diagonally across the street from where I was born.

My first report card wasn’t the best I ever received, but it showed promise. I received a “1” in both Effort and Conduct. Grades were given in numbers instead of letters at that time. A “1” carried the ranking of 95% to 100%. Our seats were assigned alphabetically.

I do not remember who sat in front of me, but Lois Kriege sat behind me. Paul Yenne always had the last seat in the last row.

Our recreation area, exclusive for first through fourth grades, was the play yard located between the junior high and the elementary school buildings. This kept us out of harm’s way from the bigger and older students. The junior high students had their own campus, south of our building.

We were also divided by sex. In those days it wasn’t by sex; it was by “boys and girls.”

This wasn’t a hard-and-fast rule, but it was understood that the girls played on the College Street side and the boys played on the High Street side.

The drinking fountains were located at the imaginary line dividing the girls’ area from the boys’ area. We couldn’t play together, but sometimes we drank together.

I remember this bit of information because Verna Mae seemed to get thirsty and tired at the same time I did. Anita told me many years after we were married that Verna Mae liked me a lot then and still did. We were “classmate” friends.

Mom was the “company” barber. She cut our hair, including her brothers, brothers-in-law, and some of their friends. Dad had his cut every two weeks. We boys went a month or more.

During the summer we wore it short. Mom’s equipment consisted of a large white cloth, a pair of hand-operated clippers, a comb, and a pair of hair-cutting scissors that we weren’t allowed to use under any circumstances.

Mom and Dad took us to the St. Louis Zoo at least every other year. It was quite a long trip over the Mississippi River, more than 50 miles round trip.

Dad made sure the gas tank was full. He checked the oil, water, tires, ignition points, and even the spark plugs.

Mom said he always felt that if your car broke down in the city they would take advantage of you if you were from Illinois. Mom put our picnic lunch together. We couldn’t afford to eat in a restaurant.

The standard fare was fried chicken, potato salad, deviled eggs, pork and beans, a salad, and vegetables.

We piled into the Model A Ford and headed for St. Louis.

We took U.S. Route 66 through Mitchell and over the Chain of Rocks Bridge. It cost a dime each way. We turned off on Riverview Drive and proceeded to get lost. Once we found Kingshighway we followed the signs to the zoo.

I always looked forward to seeing the big animals. We could always see birds, snakes, turtles, fish, and small animals near home.

Occasionally we would take Grandmother Kolesa with us and make a side trip to the Botanical Gardens. This was her favorite part of the trip.

The zoo trip was exciting as usual, but didn’t compare to my going to school and beginning second grade. Anita was starting first grade.

Verna Mae introduced me to Anita and to the “lady” that brought her, which I assumed was her mother. It wasn’t. Verna Mae said to me, “This is Anita and her sister, Verna, my mother.”

I was confused by meeting the oldest and the youngest daughters of Elizabeth and Frank Rogers.

Verna Mae turned to Verna May and said, “Mom, this is Thomas Kolesa. Remember, I told you about him?”

Verna May said, “Hi, Tomás.” Because of the recent problems with my name in first grade, I didn’t correct her.

It was several years later when I met her again she called me Tomás. I liked it. That is what she called me for sixty years, every time we met, until she died.

Anita and I had our first meeting. This is where all of the infinite number of decisions so many individuals made came together and put us on the road to eternity.

These were the days of the big wind-up pendulum clocks with big Roman numerals. A clock hung in every classroom.

They were kept wound by the janitors. Everyone in the room, including the students, could see them without any special effort.

We learned when recess, lunch, and dismissal came long before we learned to tell time.

The school year was without any embarrassing events I can recall. I guess by this time I had learned how to go to school. Miss Mable Hall was my second-grade teacher.

Our house had a covered porch that extended the full width across the front. Frank and I claimed the area under the porch. Mom and Dad approved.

We built an elaborate network of roads, bridges, tunnels, and villages under the porch, to match the scale of the small metal cars and trucks that we played with.

As long as I can remember we never had a Christmas without a Christmas tree. If Mom and Dad couldn’t find enough money in the budget to buy a tree, they went out into the woods and cut one. Santa used to bring the tree on Christmas Eve.

Later we were allowed to assist Santa by helping decorate the tree. Decorations consisted of several strands of “one goes out they all go out” lights, numerous ornaments, strings of popcorn and cranberries, and some tinsel. I still have three of the glass ornaments that were used then.

During the year 1931, “The Star-Spangled Banner,” which was written by Francis Scott Key and sung to the tune of an old English drinking song, was designated our national anthem.

The start of school in September of 1932 found me in the third grade, being passed on to Miss Grace Hall, Mable Hall’s sister. Frank had Miss Grace Hall two years earlier.

Franklin D. Roosevelt was a candidate for president in 1932. Mom and Dad actively campaigned for him. Even though I was too young to know what it was all about, I participated in the election activities.

Mom and Dad took us boys to a rally and a parade. There were bands and a lot of people carrying signs promoting Roosevelt. Someone handed me a small one and asked me to wave it. I glanced at Mom and Dad. They said it was all right. I waved it proudly. I did not know if Anita’s family were supporters of Roosevelt, but from all of their verbal comments and actions after we were married I do not have any doubts that they were.

Roosevelt won the fall election by a landslide, receiving a large number of votes from the 12 million unemployed voters. He had promised an extensive New Deal of social reforms and economic stimulants.

These included protection for labor unions, wage and hour laws, and farm assistance programs.

On his list were the establishment and implementation of the CCC, Civilian Conservation Corps; the WPA, Work Projects Administration; and the SSA, Social Security Act. He followed through on his pledges.

Established to conserve soil, water, and timber resources and to provide work for men between 17 and 37, the CCC provided jobs at the pay rate of $1 a day plus room and board.

Approximately three million men signed up for this program, which was organized, implemented, and directed by the Army.

Their work projects included the building of state parks. My Zivic uncles participated in the program.

The WPA was established to replace the Federal Relief Administration by providing jobs for the unemployed until full recovery was achieved during World War II.

The Social Security Act was designed to provide income and services in the event of sickness, disability, death, retirement, or unemployment. It has been modified many times and is still in existence.

In the 1930s we all had our fear of polio (poliomyelitis). President Roosevelt had it, and we all knew how it could strike anyone at any time.

There were several cases of polio in Edwardsville. The season peaked in September, and Mom cautioned us repeatedly about getting too tired.

One of the victims of polio lived on Kansas Street, on one of our routes to school.

On numerous occasions we would see the young boy—or rather the iron lung he was confined to—on their front porch. We tried not to stare, but it was difficult.

During World War I the cost to mail a first-class letter was raised from two cents an ounce to three cents. After the war, the rate reversed to the two-cent price until 1932, when it was raised to the three-cent price again. A one-cent-a-gallon federal tax was placed on gasoline.

In addition to the United States having elected a new president, Germany had elected a new party. They appointed Adolf Hitler chancellor. Japan began its occupation of Manchuria. The United States protested these actions. While in the third grade I had several periods of missed classes, including the last nine days in March and the first fifteen in April.

Miss Hall did not give me a grade for the month because I was absent due to illness.

Scarlet fever got you a big red sign for your front porch, warning others that someone in the house had this very contagious disease. John caught it from me.

Frank already had scarlet fever before I was born. It developed into an infection of his middle-ear mastoids which required an operation.

National news covered the attempted assassination of President Roosevelt. It also covered the first round-the-world solo flight made by Wiley Post.

The year was marked with violence, and it continued into the next year.

Among the items making headlines were “Dillinger Killed Leaving Theater,” “Bonnie and Clyde Killed in Police Ambush,” “G-Men Wipe Out Pretty Boy Floyd,” “Baby Face Nelson Found Dead,” and in January, “Ma Barker Killed.” It was a pretty rough time.

Worldwide headlines advised everyone that Adolf Hitler had set his program of genocide into operation, declaring an annihilation of several societies based solely on religion, race, ethnicity, and homosexuality. The Holocaust had begun.

I started the fourth grade. My new teacher was Elizabeth Moorman. My report card showed that I didn’t miss any classes and that I maintained my “average” status by getting 46 2s out of a possible 55.

One afternoon, just as the elementary school was letting out and I had already headed for home, it began to rain.

I started to run. The faster I ran the harder it rained, and the wind began to blow hard. When I made it home, Mom was waiting at the front door and rushed me to the basement where John was. We were in the middle of a tornado. It didn’t touch the ground in Edwardsville.

Mom, like many mothers during the Depression, didn’t call the doctor for minor problems like chickenpox.

She just lifted up my shirt, had me lower my pants, and looked for the tiny spots that would indicate I had it. I had it.

Charles Lindbergh flew solo from New York City to Paris, France, in 1927 in his monoplane, the Spirit of St. Louis. Edwardsville, located between St. Louis, Missouri, and Chicago, Illinois, was in the flight path between the two cities during early passenger and airmail service. Lindbergh piloted some of these early airmail flights. He served in the United States Air Service. I was too young to be aware of the significance of these flights. We were living on Hanser Street and I was going to school before they got my attention.

Daytime flights depended on weather. Night flights were possible with beacons plus good weather conditions. Their powerful rotating “searchlight” beams were designed to guide the pilots to and from their destination. Radio would soon replace beacons.

Our nearest beacon was north of Edwardsville, on a hill overlooking Silver Creek. We could see it from our house. I used to count the seconds as I waited for it to complete a revolution. I watched the daytime flights come into view just seconds after I heard their motors. I was an airplane spotter. Ford Tri-Motors were noisy.

All of the school teachers were paid $100 a month. Farm hands made from fifty cents a day to a dollar a day, depending on the job they were assigned.

The fall of 1934 was an exciting time for me. I was promoted to the fifth grade and moved into the junior high building.

Miss Lindbeck was my teacher. I missed a half day of school during the fifth grade. We started a new grading system this year, using letters A, B, C, D, and F.

The junior high school building was much bigger than the Columbus School. It had three floors and a gymnasium.

Dad was home with the three of us boys when Mom went into labor with Roy. Dad called Dr. Barnsback and waited for him.

When the doctor arrived, Dad met him, brought him upstairs, sent us to our bedroom, and closed the door.

The birth was fairly quick according to Mom. She didn’t make a lot of fuss, but we could tell she was not having an easy time.

I remember every cry from Mom and the words of encouragement from Dad, right up to the first cry from Roy.

Then the sobs of happiness from Mom and seeing the smiles on Frank and John’s faces. Dad came in and told us we had a new brother. We got to go in and see Mom and our new sibling.

Doctor Roy Barnsback had a big part in selecting a name for our new brother. Mom and Dad didn’t want him to be called by a nickname like “Junior,” “Buster,” or “Babe.” As Dr. Barnsback was doing his paperwork, he told them his parents faced the same problem. They settled on Roy for his name. So did Mom and Dad.

It seemed that everyone Mom and Dad knew was unemployed.

Dad had a job and that was very important. It didn’t provide enough money to live extravagantly, but it did give them cash for the things that had to be purchased.

They were both very good at supplementing this income with the things that were available to them at a reduced cost or were free.

I was promoted to the sixth grade. Only half of my report card survived. I am not sure, but I believe that Miss Deach was my teacher.

Governor Huey P. Long of Louisiana proclaimed, “Every man was a king.” He was killed by an assassin in September 1935. Will Rogers and Wiley Post were both killed in an air crash. This was the year the DC-3 airplane was introduced. They would eventually log several billion air miles, through World War II and beyond. Some are still flying.

Edwardsville, located on the river bluff, some fifteen miles from the Mississippi River, gets its share of cold winter weather.

The winter of 1935–36 was a dandy. Mom kept records. Here are some of the entries for January. On Sunday the 26th she recorded −8°. On the 27th, −16°, with a notation that “Dad worked all night to keep the pipes from freezing.”

The year 1936 was the last year I could go to the show for ten cents. Frank had to pay the adult fare, twenty-five cents. He had his paper route and paid his own way. John and I were doing dishes for our dime-a-week allowance. Several years earlier, Frank and I were doing the dishes and we went to the show together. Now he went with his friends and John and I went together. Popcorn was two bags for a dime; candy bars were four cents each or three for a dime.

As fall approached, Frank went to high school. I went into the first year of junior high. Here I acquired my much-referred-to F in music.

Franklin D. Roosevelt was easily elected president to serve another four years, beating Alfred Landon with an electoral vote of 523 to 8.

The first Volkswagen Beetle was produced in Germany this year. We had an active Army of 140,000 men.

Frank started passing newspapers as a substitute when he was fourteen. Soon he had an afternoon route.

As I approached thirteen, he took me on as his helper.

We delivered Sunday papers. I received a quarter for three hours of work. That would pay my way to the show.

Frank was in his first semester as a freshman in high school, and he played junior varsity football under Coach (Uncle) Steve Kole. Uncle Steve had changed his name from Kolesa to Kole because he and Aunt Ouida thought it was more professional.

Anita’s brother Howard had received his second letter as a varsity player. He was only a sophomore and was well on his way to becoming a four-year letterman in football.

The Depression was still with us at the end of the 1930s. Our public debt had passed the $30 billion mark, with a per capita income of less than $500. Unemployment hovered near 20%. DuPont invented nylon and the first television for practical use was developed. The Hindenburg dirigible blew up in New Jersey.

Amelia Earhart was lost in the Pacific Ocean while attempting to fly around the world.

Mr. and Mrs. Rogers, Howard, and Anita moved to Arcadia Street. When I was thirteen and Anita was twelve we had our first major relationship encounter with the real world.

We were attending the City of Edwardsville recreation department’s program, similar to that which the WPA sponsored.

The city used the facilities of an old private health club, called the Turners. It was located on Second Street behind where I was born. Anita and I, along with dozens of area youths, attended these programs during the summer. We had plenty of opportunities to interact.

During one of our rest periods we sat at a table together.

She wrote me a note that said she heard I hoped to be a doctor someday. She added that she thought that was great and she hoped to be a nurse.

This very clinical note sounded friendly enough to both of us, and we smiled at each other, Anita with her Mona Lisa smile.

Those who saw her write the note and then give it to me, and watched me read it, concluded it must contain some juicy information.

When the onlookers tried to take it away from me, Anita grabbed it. She said she destroyed it. We were both kidded and razzed about it. Both of us were embarrassed. We reacted by not paying attention to each other, openly that is.

Teasing finally ended and we maintained an agreed-upon distant, but friendly, relationship. The friendly part felt good.

Anita would be walking to school with the neighborhood girls in September. Among these girls would be Alice Hanvey and Roberta Tosh from my class.

It wasn’t long before I was invited to walk home with them. I accepted the invitation and soon was walking to school with them.

School rarely closed because of cold weather. Summers were a bit different, and we did get time off occasionally on particularly hot days.

When I’m asked what the weather is like in the Illinois area I reply, “Every year we would have a few days below zero, several heavy snowfalls, and a few hot days, over a hundred degrees. We would also have a lot of dry spells.”

Mom and Dad let me buy a target air gun. Frank was into real guns. He had his own .22-caliber single-shot rifle. Most of the other boys in the neighborhood had rifles; some even had shotguns.

Dad used to hunt a lot, but now he only fished. We often went on fishing trips as a family, calling them picnics.