Martha Kennard-Atherton-Fleetwood

Alaska while I, tearfully, returned home to West Lebanon. While I was away, Evelyn cared for John to ensure that my short time with Coonie would be uninterrupted and we would have the opportunity to relish a few more moments together, not knowing when we would see each other again. Oh but it was wrenching to say Good-bye in that Springfield depot.

My mother arrived the middle of January, as Evelyn and Phil moved from my apartment and in with Phil’s mother (Aunt Mabel). My mother had been caring for my grandmother, who I missed so much, in Holt. Grandma was not well and I felt guilty about not returning home, but it was not feasible.

Mom settled into West Lebanon nicely and we waited and we waited. January 29 Dad A was called and together with Mother A the four of us sped to Mary Hitchcock Hospital. That evening I gave birth to our first little girl, Martha Jean. Dr Boardman was a miracle. He arranged a large private room and continued his care for the 12 he kept me hospitalized. The Red Cross was notified and they in turn notified Coonie, who was soon passing cigars throughout the Quonset Huts, which they called home.

He even told the little blue foxes about his little girl.

If one can enjoy a Hospital, I did. My baby was brought to me for feedings and cuddling, then back to the nursery (that’s the way birthings were in ‘43). The view from my windows was that of the beautiful Baker library with its towering steeple in the middle of Hanover Square. Snow covered the terrain as the students made ice sculptures.

When time allowed, Dr. Boardman would sit with me and we would talk about Coonie. One day he brought a cartoon from the Boston Sunday Paper which featured the “Hero of the Week” in caricature.

It was Coonie!!

Mid February ‘43 Mom had returned to Holt. Jean (we chose to call her by her middle name), John and I snug in our home and managing just fine without the car which Coonie had driven to Seattle.

Bob Gunn delivered groceries from his Super Market and Kilton’s drug store met our other needs.

From time to time Mother A would trudge up the stairs and lovingly care for John and Jean giving me an afternoon with Evelyn and friends. This was her way of having the children to herself while giving me a little respite time.

And so the days turned into months. Infrequent letters from Coonie, censored by the Navy because of the war. It wasn’t until after he was out of the service that I learned just what he endured. My summer was spent with the children, at Twin Spruce Lodge. Mother A insisted we were guests and treated us like Royalty. We returned after Labor Day. Early October the call came. Coonie was transferred to Quansit Point, Rhode Island. There was joy in the town and plans were put in motion for when and how he would be arriving. He was to pick up the car in Seattle and drive cross country. I, with Mother A’s blessing, would take the train and meet him in Wisconsin on October 31. This trip to Wisconsin presented an opportunity to stop-over in Battle Creek for a long over-due visit with my paternal family. Grandpa K had since died. Grandma, Aunt Florence, my cousins Isabelle, Mary and Kenneth, Uncle Lawrence, and Aunt Louise welcomed me. I allowed myself a week in Battle Creek.

October 31 I was waiting, not patiently, at the train station where we had agreed to meet. Thoughts of my Grandmother were disturbing and I wrote her a letter as I waited for Coonie. Before I had finished I was paged. Yes, it was Coonie! I was soon in his arms at the depot before a cheering group of passengers. We found a Hotel and settled in. Coonie went to the Lobby to call his Mother. When he returned to the room I could see something had happened. “The Children!?”, was my fist thought; but