Thoughts about Iola Ross as told by Mary Ellen Quandt in the first person – read by Barb Wyckoff Ryan while wearing Iola’s wedding dress Aug. 26, 2006 at the Charles Manatt Audubon residence I am Edith Iola Johnson – I was born September 7, 1893 (113 years ago) at 49 First Avenue in Audubon. My parents were Eugene M. and Mary Ellen (Snyder) Johnson. I was blest with 2 brothers – Glenn and Leon. However, I must say they made my life miserable now and then. The worst idea they ever had was to shut me in a dark closet. I was there long enough to develop life-long claustrophobia and a fear of the dark. I graduated from Audubon High School in 1911 and had a certificate to teach rural school. I secured a position at Cameron #9. In those days being a one-room country school teacher left much to be desired – especially in winter months. A large coal-fired stove stood in the middle of the room – with a small coal shed attached to the rear of the building. Of course, I would walk early the ½ mile from where I stayed to get the fire going to warm the room. There were out-houses to the back of the school ground – no well or running water. You might say the water was running, because each morning 2 of the older boys would go to the nearest house and fetch water for us to wash hands and drink from a common dipper. I would have as many as 20 or more pupils – representing all 8 grades. Blackboards lined the front of the room and it was considered a treat when a deserving pupil got to take the erasers outside and clean them by pounding them together. Each Christmas we would prepare an elaborate program for our families and friends. There was always a picnic on the last day of school in the Spring. Favorite out-door games were “ante-over”, marbles and baseball. Inside we played musical chairs to music from a phonograph and various guessing games. No field trips, hot lunch or ball point pens. Little did I realize at that time that my 2 children would attend this same school for their first 8 grades of education. A big change was ahead for me in my life. In those days, people had what they called house parties in their homes and I was invited to one of these parties in the school district. It was there that Cupid made a direct hit on me with one of his arrows. A young man named Sam Ross was at that party and I thought he was the best looking man I had ever seen. He seemed to be attracted to me, also, and a romance blossomed. To make a long story short, we were married on February 8th, 1915 at the same location where I was born – the home of my parents. My wedding dress was very special. It was made with Battenberg lace. My mother bought the roll of lace on a spool and connected pieces of it with thread to create floral designs and eventually my wedding gown evolved. A part of one of the flowers fell off my bouquet during the service and Sam said he thought a bomb had gone off. My Mother-in-law was not so sure – she thought Sammie should have waited another year before getting married. He was nearly 27 at the time. Wouldn’t you think that she would have wanted him out of the house by that time?? We had an exciting honeymoon. The wedding party escorted us to the train depot down on lower Broadway, where we boarded the train and headed South and West – all the way to California. What fun we had! (I wrote my parents a 3 page letter from there). Back home, we settled into our new life on the farm 5 ¾ miles north of Audubon in a not- so-new house – which was only 1 ¾ miles from the school I had been teaching – Cameron #9. I really didn’t know what to expect from becoming a farmer’s wife. Sam was very good to me and never asked me to milk a cow or drive a team of horses. I did help out at corn-picking time – which, I must say, was quite a chore – picking one ear at a time. The house, of course, had no plumbing, running water or electricity and no basement. The floors were so cold in the winter that I wore my overshoes on the coldest days to keep my feet warm. In addition to the fear of darkness and claustrophobia, I was terrified of storms. The cave, near the house, was refuge for the whole family many times. George and Mary Ellen were born at home. Dr. Brooks spent the night on the sofa waiting for George to come into the world. We had a big garden and chickens. Picking eggs from under an over-protective hen was not the most fun and there was the occasional rooster looking to pick a fight. I enjoyed the piano and kept at Mary Ellen to practice and be able to enjoy it as I had. Sam told me when we were married that we would be on the farm for 15 years and then retire to town. Of course, that was a pipe dream. However, in December of 1946, we did make the move and, would you believe? It was back to the house on First Avenue where I had been born and we had been married 31 years before. Sixteen years longer than Sam’s wedding promise. I led a relatively quiet life – Sam was the outgoing one. Politics were his game; County Supervisor, Mayor of Audubon, Magistrate and so on. I suffered with a bad case of some sort of Flu when I was 44, which damaged my heart. We did some traveling and I was loyal to my church and enjoyed immense pleasure with my grandchildren – who also had a mutual feeling for me. Afterthought: Much more could be said of the prim and proper lady whose love and devotion to her family was demonstrated in so many ways. The memories she helped to create during her lifetime of 78 plus years are indelible in the hearts and minds of her descendants. What memories can her grandchildren add? Alice Mary: 1. LOVED hats – probably bought a new one at least every Easter. 2. Made bouquets of weeds and wild flowers and put them on her front porch [because she was allergic to the pollen]. 3. Sunday School Supt. 4. Always well dressed and groomed. 5. Ironed while sitting on a stool. Helped Mary Ellen with her ironing. 6. Let me (Alice Mary) have friends (especially Carol Sonksen) stay overnight at her house.