Her cousin, Enid Morome, spent some time with her in Florida in 2007 and documented many aspects of Elaine's life. Below is that information.

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There are very few things that one can remember well that happened before the age of six, so what is remembered must be important.

I remember my Aunt Tib.

Aunt Tib was my mother's youngest sister. She lived with us in my grandmother's house on Lauretta Avenue in Baltimore City. It was a three bedroom, individual two story home. The living room, dining room and kitchen were on the first floor and upstairs there were three bedrooms and a bath. My grandparents shared the largest bedroom. Tib and my Aunt Mary (“Sis”) shared a bedroom and my brother Bus, who was two, slept in the smallest room with me and my mother. I was four.

I recall sitting propped up in bed next to Aunt Tib, Bus on the other side of her as she read us the Sunday funnies: Tillie the Toiler, Mutt & Jeff, Andy Gump, and Dick Tracy. I liked them all especially the one about Blondie and Dagwood Bumstead. I suppose I have always associated reading with love and attention. Maybe that is the reason why I am such an avid reader today. I haunt the library and can browse for hours before making a selection. I've read everything by Maeve Binchey. I love Toni Hillerman, Collin Dexter. John Lecarre, and Rosalind Pincher. They are among my favorites.

My Aunt Tib was more like a mother to us because my mother was not always there. When I was about six years old, my mother married John Sale, and we moved to Hilton Street across the bridge and near Gwynns Falls Junior High School. Bus stayed with my grandparents until he was twelve. I missed him.

Aunt Tib married George Fowler. Everyone called him Finny. In a very short while, I had cousins: George Jr. was born first and then a girl, Dale. We saw a lot of each other over the next ten years because Aunt Tib and her husband bought a house directly across the street from us.

I remember having the measles when I was just a little girl, and someone gave me a mirror to occupy my time in bed. I loved watching the rainbows moving all over the walls. I remember Mike would come home from working at Uncle James' paint store on Howard Street in downtown Baltimore and my mother would be out in the garden picking tomatoes for dinner. They were warm, very red, and very delicious. I remember one Christmas; there was a knock on the door. A neighbor dressed as Santa brought me a table and chairs, a set of doll dishes and two baby dolls.

I remember Bus hitting me with a wooden block, I still have the scar on the back of my head. I remember having my picture taken with Bus.

My Aunt Mary Naomi Collins was another important person in my life. We all called her "Sis."

Another early memory I have is standing on the curb on Edmondson Avenue holding Bus's hand and being very careful as I took him across the street to go to Sunday School each week. We were always dressed very well; Aunt Tib saw to that. She was a wonderful seamstress and made me beautiful little dresses. I have loved clothes ever since. Aunt Tib would pick us up after Sunday school and take us with her to church. We had to be quiet and sit still. We liked Sunday School; we did not like church.

I remember having the measles when I was just a little girl, and someone gave me a mirror to occupy my time in bed. I loved watching the rainbows moving all over the walls. I remember Mike would come home from working at Uncle James' paint store on Howard Street in downtown Baltimore and my mother would be out in the garden picking tomatoes for dinner. They were warm, very red, and very delicious.

When I was fourteen years old and attending my first year at Western High School, Mike moved us to Catonsville. I always called John Sale, "Mike." My mother did, too. I don't know why because his middle name was Lyons. Nobody ever explained it to me. The house was located on Johnnycake Road (off of Edmondson Avenue extended – now known as Baltimore National Pike or Route 40). It was country in 1935. We had chickens, but not much else in the way of livestock. Mike didn't work the farm except for growing some corn and tomatoes, cabbage, parsley and some lettuce and string beans. He worked six days a week for his brother James who owned a paint store on Howard Street in downtown Baltimore, but he kept up a rather nice size garden.

Boy, those tomatoes were delicious. The month of August abounded in fresh produce, and many a time, dinner consisted of corn-on-the-cob and a tomato sandwich on Hauswald's white bread with lots of mayonnaise.

I had to switch high schools from the city to the county when we moved but I liked it at Catonsville High School. I played on the volleyball and basketball teams. For girls’ basketball, there was no running the full length of the court; the court was divided into three sections and we stayed in our section, passing the ball forward to the next section or keeping the other team from doing so.

Aunt Tib and Uncle Finny bought a house around the same time; only they moved out Liberty Road into Randallstown, but they had to give up their house in the country and move back to Harlem Avenue off Poplar Grove Street in order to take care of Uncle Finny's parents. After his parents passed away, Aunt Tib moved to Hampden and lived there until she went into a nursing home in her seventies.

When I was sixteen years old, I got a job during the summer working at Woolworth's 5&10 cent store. I remember that year I bought NINE Christmas presents for a total expenditure of $1.00. I gave a gift to my mother and to Mike; to my grandmother, to Bus and Virginia Lee, my half sister; and to Aunt Tib, Uncle Finny, George, and Dale. They were the most important people in my life.

I recall the wonderful dinners at Enid's when Jennings would go out of his way to prepare my favorite dishes. I particularly enjoyed the oyster roasts. My favorite one was my surprise 75th Birthday Party. Enid invited Virginia Lee, and I was shocked to see Jay and Bonnie who were living in Virginia at the time. Ellen had flown in from Indiana just to celebrate my birthday with me. She knew about the party, of course.

I recall taking a day trip up to Glen Arm with Jennings to see the restored farmhouse that belonged to "Mike’s mother, Cora Sale Suter. I used to go up there when I was a child. Jennings asked the new owner if the old spring house was still there where Mama Suter would keep apples year round and milk would be kept cold. It wasn’t

I remember the laughter at Uncle Rupert and Aunt Edna's. I remember that my mother loved RED.

My Aunt Mary Naomi Collins was an important person in my life too. She was a saleslady at Hochschild Kohn's Department Store. She didn't make much money, but I remember that she bought me a prom dress just because she loved me. She submitted my name to be a model in the store's teen fashion show. Aunt Mary took care of my grandmother for years after my grandfather died. They sold the house on Lauretta Avenue and got an apartment in a private home on Poplar Grove Street. Aunt Mary was a good woman.

My mother worked at the May Company and because she worked full time, I only have vague recollections of being with her. I recall playing jacks on the front porch, going to Tolchester with her on the boat Louisa. We had packed enough food for an army. There were dozens of open stalls that sold produce before getting on the boat, and we would buy beautiful fruit to add to our lunch. McCormick Spices built a plant right at the spot where we used to get on the boat for Tolchester; it is where the Inner Harbor Complex is now.

Mother and I were always very different people. I was always interested in educating myself. After I finished my formal education, I read a lot, and I wanted to travel and see other countries. Mother was afraid to fly. She and Mike did, however, fly to our son Jay's high school graduation and later to his wedding in Indiana. She had a new respect for that mode of travel and encouraged Aunt Edna, Enid's grandmother, to fly to Florida when it was a question of attending her grandson Jim Sale's wedding.

One day I got word that Aunt Tib who was in her early seventies had stepped off a bus and had fallen. She hit her head. She was taken to the hospital immediately and an attempt was made at rehabilitation. Nevertheless, she deteriorated rapidly. Eventually she had to be tube-fed. My Aunt Tib died at the age of eighty having spent seven years in a nursing facility. I loved her so much that every time I visited her, I welled up with tears. I thought of her every time I recounted my life with her, every time I visited her. It was so hard. Although through the years I was busy with my own family moving from the United States to Japan, back to Texas, Indiana, Wyoming, Arizona and finally back to Maryland, I never forgot my Aunt Tib and was faithful in sending cards and gifts at holiday time. I always wished I could have done more.

If I had my life to live over, I would have gone to college. Probably, I would have studied history and the arts. I remember Mr. Green who taught business education. I remember him vividly. He was tall and slender and wore a lot of tweed. One day, he said to me, "Don't tell me that you are not going to college." He seemed genuinely shocked since I had wonderful grades. No one had ever made me feel that smart. No one encouraged me to get further education. The reason I didn't go could be mostly attributed to our family culture. People in my family didn't go on to college after high school, they went to work, and so that's what I did.

After graduation in June of 1939, I was fortunate to get a job at the Prudential Insurance Company. I was interviewed while I was still in school. I worked there for about two years, and then Annie Sale, James Sale' s wife, asked me to go with her to Miami, Florida to help take care of her adopted daughter Audrey while she took up residence to hasten her divorce. It was September 1941. She also took my Aunt Mary and George Fowler's grandmother, Uncle Finney's mother. We stayed for a couple of months. I had never been to warm Florida in the winter and was anxious to quit my job and travel south. I got a job in a plate glass company where it was very informal. Everyone wore shorts to work. I settled in for the winter.

On December 7, 1941, the Japanese attacked Pearl Harbor, and we declared war. I just felt that I wanted to go home. I came back earlier than I had planned and got a job with the Monarch Insurance Company. My boss was in charge of the Red Cross and asked some of the girls in the office to go to a T-dance at the YMCA for the men in the armed services. It was October of 1942.

I was dancing with a soldier when another tall nice looking soldier winked at me. He asked me to dance the next dance. His name was Bill Braden, and that was the beginning. Bill had been drafted for WWII. He entered the service as an enlisted man and went through training to be in the Signal Corps. He was selected for Officer Candidate School at Aberdeen Proving Ground. This is when I met him. OCS was a grueling and demanding program of about 20 weeks. Many of the officer candidates washed out of the program, but Bill graduated. I was so proud of him. He said he could only leave base and get to the dances every two weeks and he asked if I would be there. I said, "Maybe." But I knew right away that I would be there. On our first date, he took me to a Chinese restaurant, and I remember one time he took me to dinner on the base. We went to the Alcazar for dancing. We loved to dance. We were always with three or four more couples. A few times, Bill would rent a car. That was nice; we didn't have to take the streetcar. Before I knew it, I had invited him home for Thanksgiving.

The first time I met his parents was right after the holidays. I took the train. It was filled with soldiers sleeping on the floor. Luckily, I didn't have to travel far, just to Pennsylvania. I was helping his mother in the kitchen and when I walked past Bill who was sitting at the table, he pulled me gently onto his lap. He looked up at his mother and said, "Look Mother, she likes me." I did, too. He was so sweet and so kind. I do recall the fact that his mother was a wonderful baker. There was never a meal that did not have really good pies, cakes, or cookies.

Bill’s folks were the embodiment of the perfect American family. His father would come home with ice cream for the boys and do anything for them. And they always treated me wonderfully.

We were at the Southern Hotel in their cocktail lounge, and I knew he was going to ask me to marry him. He had a little gold wedding band. Later on in our marriage, he bought me diamond earrings and a nice diamond ring telling me it was to make up for his not being able to afford a diamond engagement ring when he first proposed. He wanted to be married in February, but my mother said, "You don't even know him." We decided to wait until June.

We were married at Edmondson Lutheran Church. I was 22 and Bill was 25. Bill had attended Robert Morris School in Pittsburgh. He and his brothers were able to take the train from Beaver Falls to Pittsburgh to attend its evening classes in accounting. [Robert Morris did not offer an associate's degree until 1962 and did not offer a bachelors degree until 1969, when it became Robert Morris College. It is now Robert Morris University.] Before the war he was working as the youngest comptroller ever for the Rieck McJunkin Dairy. They saved his job for him when he was drafted.

We got a little furnished apartment in Walbrook. It was one of those old three story white cottages. Almost immediately, Bill was ordered to a staging depot. I went, too, and there were other wives there as well. We stayed in a boarding house until Bill left for overseas. He was shipped to Europe on the Queen Mary; a fast ship that could outrun submarines. Bill told me of how cramped he and the men were beneath the decks. He landed in England and served in Belgium as an Ordnance Officer. He helped manage ammunition dumps. I recall him speaking of using former Russian prisoners as his work force. They were happy to be out of German hands and receiving decent meals.

When Bill shipped out, his parents picked me up and took me back to their house for a couple of weeks. Then I returned to Maryland and discovered I was pregnant. I was thrilled. My best friend Jessie was pregnant, too. I recall that we pitched in and bought a Ouija board, and we tried to get the answers our men couldn't give us. Their letters were so cut up — all over the paper — censored by our government for security purposes. I didn't know whether Bill was writing to me from England or from Belgium, both places he was stationed during the war.

Bill was gone a year and a half. I tried to pass the time spending days with my friends. I gave up the apartment and moved back with my mother and Mike. Virginia Lee was still in high school, but she and I became even closer. I think of how I always felt that Virginia Lee was always my sister — never a half sister, and John Sale was very much a father to me.

But the newspaper was filled with the names of casualties. There were thousands killed at Normandy, and I didn't know exactly where Bill was. Mother had two flags with stars in the window: one for Bus and one for Bill. No one knows the joy in my heart when Bill came home safe and sound. He had missed so much — the first nine months of Jay's life. I had wanted my first child to be a boy. Mike took me to the hospital on November 22 in the beauty of Autumn and ten days later the snow was eight inches deep. Mother helped me so much during that time. We became closer than ever. My mother never had a lot, and I think now of how much I could give her.

During the war when I had been living back at home with Mother and "Mike", I remember vividly waking up in the middle of the night and seeing Bill standing at the foot of Jay's crib. It wasn't a dream. I was wide awake, sitting up in bed. He didn't look at me, just looked at Jay, and then he was gone. I had the feeling that Bill was safe although I didn't know where he was. That was a wonderful experience. I hold on to that spiritual experience today; sometimes it helps.

I read a lot while Bill was away during the war. In fact, I remember reading Gone With the Wind, for the very first time during that period. When Bill came home, he arrived at Pennsylvania Station. Jay went right to him, and Bill wouldn't put him down for hours. He just kept looking at him and talking to him, fascinated with his son. I read a lot to Jay. He could actually read all by himself by age 4. He would sit on Bill's mother's lap and if he didn't know a word, he would say, "Oops, wrong page" and then turn the page. At 3 1/2 he recited "Twas the Night Before Christmas". His third grade teacher came for dinner and confided that the children had been tested, and Jay had the highest I.Q. in the class. Of course, I always won the spelling bees in elementary school, so it was obvious he inherited his mother's facility with words.

I remember during World War II that the entire family sat down to listen to the radio: Gabriel Heater, "There's Good News Tonight".

After World War II ended, Bill got a job as comptroller for Western Maryland Dairy in Baltimore which was connected to the Reick Mdunkin Company in PA. We lived on Yakona Road, just off of LochRaven Boulevard, in Towson. We had the nicest neighbors, most were young couples like us starting their married life together. We bought a very nice all-brick duplex with a huge back yard with many trees. We paid five thousand dollars for it. Jay and his friend Jerry from down the street played many hours in the back yard building forts. Bill's contribution was two Adirondack chairs that he constructed from scratch, and he was very proud of them. Our duplex neighbors were Herb and Janet Wertz, and two other good friends were Margaret and Gil Ozenberg, who had three children. While there, we bought our first car, a used Pontiac; it was green. Before long we were able to buy a new car, a shiny black Chevy that we paid $900 for. I loved looking out our front widow to see that shiny new auto that we owned. When Bill was recalled for duty associated with the Korean Conflict we sold the house for seven thousand, and were excited about the two thousand we made in profit.

With my second pregnancy, I wanted a girl and God gave me exactly what I wanted: my wonderful daughter Ellen. Bill and I were so lucky. She had a perfectly delightful disposition, always laughing. I felt so fortunate. Life was exactly as I had always pictured it. Then in 1954 the United States entered the Korean Conflict, and Bill was recalled to active duty. We moved to Fort Meade, Maryland, and lived in government quarters. Bill served there in the local Finance Office; he was a first lieutenant in the Finance Corps. Soon he had orders to go to Korea.

When Bill came up on orders for Korea, we learned that we were allowed to stay in the quarters; something nice. But en route to Korea, Bill somehow came to the attention of his previous boss at Fort Meade who was serving in Japan, and he learned that he wouldn't be going to Korea after all. And, more important, that we would be able to join him there in Japan. This was very good news, but I dreaded driving clear across the country with two small children. But our neighbor from downstairs, Lieutenant Johnson (wife Kathy), learned of this and offered to drive the car across the U.S. to California, because he needed to get there also. It worked out great. We flew, he drove.

We crossed the Pacific on a troop ship that was modified to carry dependents. I believe it was the USS Breckenridge. I had never been on anything like that. The trip was somewhere around 10 days. Mostly dependent families. We all got along well. It wasn’t a rough trip in terms of the ocean, but many people got sea sick. One of my traveling companions was Irma Wolfe. Her husband Mike was also stationed in Japan – his second assignment there - but in the northern area. She made it all the way just fine except she got seasick on the last night. I remember the band that was there when we docked, and seeing Bill waving from the pier.

When we arrived, we were on a waiting list for government quarters, so we found a place to live locally. Bill had hired a houseboy, Teddy, a very sweet young man with a nice smile. He was studying Russian at home! He was paid about $18 a month and had Thursday afternoon and evening off and was also off Sunday all day. Our Japanese house had rice paper walls – something that kept Teddy occupied in repairing the holes accidently made with little fingers. We lived in this Japanese house for five or six months. The home was in a nice neighborhood and was fenced all around. Like the Japanese, we didn't walk in the house with our shoes on. There were low tables in the living room, but we had a regular table and chairs in the dining room. We had electricity but no central heat. There was a depression in the floor with a fire pit in the center. There was also a big round stone tub in a covered part of the house. Teddy made a fire outside to heat the water for that tub that was the family bath inside. We had to get in ahead of time and warm ourselves gradually because the water became very hot, boiling hot it seemed. When we finished bathing, we would put on a quilted kimono and go sit around the fire pit in the floor. We stayed warm for hours.

We had Japanese neighbors, Daka and Yuko. She spoke no English, and I spoke no Japanese. She had a little swimming pool and a little girl. She invited Jay and Ellen to swim in the pool, and she and I did our best to communicate through sign language.

I couldn't believe I was in Japan watching these lovely Japanese women with pure porcelain skin walking down the street in kimonos made of brilliantly colored silks. When we went to the park, there must have been hundreds of cherry trees in blossom.

We drove to the mountains on the weekends. The other wives and I would take our houseboys with us. The hotel would feed the children first, and then the houseboys would take care of the children, bathing them and putting them to bed. The ladies were so spoiled. We would play golf, and the golf courses were magnificent. Old ladies (Mama Sans) would get down on their knees to manicure the greens. We went to the Kabuki Theater and to see the Noh Dancers. You have never experienced cold, though until you has been to the Kabuki Theater. My feet were so bitter cold that I sat on them. I figured we would all have pneumonia.

Thursday night was family night at the Officers' Club. On Saturday night, chefs were flown in from Hawaii to cook pigs on hot coals in pits. Delicious! Entertainment consisted of Sumi wrestlers or Japanese dancers. Sometimes ladies would perform the tea ceremony.

Jay would get on his bike and go buy me a loaf of fresh baked bread for 10 cents. Although I did shop in the fish market, I did all our staple shopping at the commissary. The commissary would pack up my groceries and deliver them to my back door. Moriya, our houseboy, would cook it and serve it, so I never cooked.

After six months, Bill told me he was having a house built in Japan by a Japanese contractor. I told Bill he had had too much Saki. We paid $2,000 for a four bedroom house. When our name came up for government quarters, we sold the home for what we paid for it and moved into them. About this time Teddy became ill and we hired another houseboy, Moriya. He was good, but Teddy was our favorite.

I went to a Japanese beauty parlor. The employees lined up on each side and bowed, thanking us for coming. The women never ceased to be amazed at Ellen's hair — strawberry blond ringlets. One time, Bill and I took the light rail into town to see the hotel where he had stayed before the children and I arrived. We decided to stay for dinner so Teddy took Jay and Ellen home. I couldn't believe it, but the houseboys were highly trusted and did everything. They cleaned the house, cooked, took care of the outside, watched the children. They were immaculate in their appearance always wearing a crisply ironed shirt. They were the defeated people. We provided jobs for them. The house that Bill had built for us at Grant heights cost two thousand dollars. Our neighbors across the street were Leah and Leon Rottman, and we maintained a lifelong friendship with them. Leon Rottman was an Air Force weatherman, and when he retired to the Denver area he was employed by a local television station where he was known as “Stormy” Rottman. He was very well known in the area and when we were with them it was very common for people to come up to him to say hello.

We ate out a lot. Dinner was ninety-five cents. Gasoline was seven cents a gallon. The good old days! There was always a party to attend. Leah and Leon were wonderful party givers. One time they hired a bus and we went to a theater, then a tea house, and finally a night club. Everyone on the bus changed seats between stops in order to get to know each other better.

We were in Japan three years; a great experience, and those are the years I would probably choose to live over again if I had the choice. At the end of our time in Japan, we had been able to save enough money as to pay cash for a brand new Buick. We ordered it and picked it up in Detroit right off the line.

Then we drove to Fort Bliss in El Paso, Texas where Bill was assigned to be the finance officer at the base hospital. I remember reading Gone with the Wind for a second time while we were stationed there. The hospital people, doctors and nurses, were partying people. They could drink. We would take two or three day trips to Mexico. One of our friends would take care of our kids, and then we would do the same favor for them. We spent three years at Fort Bliss taking time to go home for visits with family between army assignments. Bill had a short assignment in Cheyenne, Wyoming and nine months of school at Fort Benjamin Harrison in Indianapolis, Indiana.

After attending the Finance Officer Advanced Course Bill was assigned to the Army's Finance Center and I went to work as a secretary there. I remember one day in particular. It was 1963. As I was coming back from lunch, I noticed that the office was absolutely silent. One of the girls was crying, and I asked what had happened. I was shocked when she told me that President John F. Kennedy had been shot. I recall that everyone stayed glued to the television for the entire weekend. It was a terrible thing. It frightened us all.

We lived about seven years in Indiana. Both Jay and Ellen finished high school in Indiana. At first we rented a house on 49th street, near the base. Jay could walk from there to Lawrence Central High School where he attended. I got a job at the Finance Center as the Director’s Secretary in Maintenance Control. Bill was promoted to Lt. Colonel and had to serve one year in Saudi, Arabia, but returned for another three year tour at the Finance Center.

While we were living in Indiana, Jay attended Purdue. He was a member of the ROTC. There he met and married his wife Bonnie, a friend of Ellen. After Jay began attending Purdue, we purchased a very nice home on Marrison Place. It was a brick home on a fine lot in a good area. At some point we decided it was time for Bill to retire. Shortly after retiring, we moved to Maryland, where Bill already had a job lined up (see below).

During this time Jay and Bonnie were married (January 1967), and Jay was commissioned a second lieutenant in the Corps of Engineers (June 1967). Bill administered the Oath of Office. Jay attended the Engineer Officer Basic Course at Fort Belvoir and then was assigned to Ft. Lewis, Washington as an engineer platoon leader. After nine months there, he came down on orders for Vietnam. Over the next years he served in many locations, and Bonnie and their children accompanied him all over the world.

I missed Jay. He was an easy child to raise. Jay was always very smart and quick. He has a great sense of humor, but many would see him as very serious. He doesn't like small talk. He has been a wonderful bread winner and a loving, caring husband and father. Ellen has always been extremely compassionate. She feels deeply for the elderly, the homeless, the ill. She also has a very cheerful disposition and can be lots of fun. She makes a wonderful traveling companion because she is absolutely interested in everything. She is very loving and has a wonderful sense of humor. I never had any trouble with either of the children as far as their school grades were concerned.

After retiring from the Army, the next task was moving to Maryland and house hunting. Bill was very attracted to the water recreation possibilities of the area, and we soon had an agent showing us homes. But one day on our own, we were driving down Benfield Road and I saw a home for sale. On our own we approached the owner and eventually got to see the place. We were interested! As we were leaving, he asked something like, “Would you like to see the beach?” We followed him down to a magnificent waterfront area jointly owned by the 50 or so Fairwinds homeowners. It had a pool, a beach area, a beach clubhouse, a picnic area with picnic tables, and pier with lots of dock spaces. We were sold! It was on the Severn River, that went down past the Naval Academy and into the Chesapeake Bay.

Bill and I had moved to Maryland because Bill had gotten the position of comptroller at Mercy Hospital in Baltimore, (and I soon got a secretarial job at the Naval Academy). He had gotten the job at Mercy through a neighbor of Mike: Tom O’Hara, the president of the organization. Mike got Bill’s résumé to Tom, Tom and Bill met, and Bill was hired on the spot. One of Bill’s challenges was to put procedures in place, because the hospital had been running its budget with almost no guidance. He got the doctors and staff to begin financial planning – sometimes dragging their feet – but to the great benefit of the hospital. Bill and I also did a number of things socially with Tom O’Hara and his wife Jean, and we had many good times together. The daily commute into Baltimore was a grind, but Bill hung in there until he was able to retire from Mercy with ten years of service. Bill was greatly respected there.

Meanwhile, I enjoyed my job at the Naval Academy with the Facilities Department.

Ellen, who had attended some classes at Evansville University, and then completed her AA at Anne Arundel Community College, got a job at Annapolis Bank and Trust and continued to live at home. She had had to make all new friends when we moved to Maryland, but she didn't seem to have any trouble. I recall many a party at our house, one with a large group of people.

I became acquainted with a lady at the Academy who was involved with midshipman social activities. When she learned that I had a daughter, she encouraged me to get Ellen to go to one of the tea dances. So Ellen and a friend, Sweetie, attended one and Ellen met Midshipman Thomas Mitchell. It was an immediate mutual attraction for both of them. They were married during June week the year he graduated. We had their wedding at the Naval Chapel and the reception at the Officers Club. Tom was commissioned as a second lieutenant in the USMC. They moved from assignments in North Carolina, Virginia, California, and spent a year in Okinawa. By the time they were in Okinawa, they had their three girls: Carrie, Colleen, and Katie. Five years later they added Kyle to the family.

Once we settled in Severna Park, we got to see a lot more of our family. Virginia Lee and Herman were living right next door to Mother and Mike on Colonial Road in Woodlawn.

They both had trouble with their houses flooding in the basement when it rained. (This was due to all the run off from the huge Social Security Administration property that was nearby.) I remember once Bill actually swam in the cellar. Eventually, after a lot of haggling for years, the city bought back the property and both Mother and Mike and Virginia Lee whose sons had grown up and left home went into separate apartments out Liberty Road.

I remember good parties at Howard's and Bobbi's. They had a beautiful home with a swimming pool, and Bobbi was always a lovely hostess.

I remember playing Bridge, and listening to Howard's Big Band records, and I liked having heated political discussions with him and with Jennings.

Both Bill and I enjoyed our jobs, but we periodically found time to travel to wherever Jay and Bonnie were. It was necessary to see Karen, my first grandchild. I got to see a lot of Karen and really bonded with her when Jay was assigned to Fort Belvoir, Virginia. We all would meet halfway between our homes and Bill and I would have Karen for the weekend while Jay and Bonnie had the time to themselves. I really missed her after Jay and Bonnie were reassigned to Germany. Bill and I tried to get to Germany twice a year mainly because I had to see the grandchildren. Sandra was their second and Anne, their third girl. They grew and changed so fast, I could hardly keep up. Robert came along four years later. Because Bill was a retired army officer, we were able several times to go standby via military transport out of Dover Air Force Base. We had to pay $15 each for the box lunch. More often than not though, we paid full fare on a commercial airline.

Meanwhile, Bill and I loved our life and home at Fairwinds on the Severn. We made some forever friends, attended the swim parties at the clubhouse, the barbeques, often had the Bosees or the Daggs as our guests. There was something going on all the time: boating, water skiing, dancing at the Mt. Washington Club. There were lots of private cocktail parties and sit-down dinners. Life was busy.

Did I mention that we bought and had fun with some boats? At one point we had a motor boat and Bill loved to take the family and friends out for water skiing, and we also did a fair amount of crabbing from the boat. And we also had a sleek sailboat, it was a Sailfish model, and the winds could really make it go. Lots of fun and good memories.

Bill and I had thirty years together after both children left home and started raising their own families. We were very lucky. Bill was always a kind and gentle man, and we loved each other very much. And we both liked golf, he more than I, so after I retired from the Naval Academy and he retired from Mercy Hospital, we left Maryland in the dead of winter, six years in a row, to live in a rented apartment in Melbourne, Florida. Jennings and Enid came down once for a week and we all went to visit Howard and Bobbi. We took short trips to Ocean City, MD, and to Lancaster, PA with Enid and Bill Abbott.

My step-father "Mike" and I never had an argument – ever. After my mother died, Mike often visited us. He even came down to Melbourne, Florida when Bill and I spent the winters there. He stayed for several weeks. We took him to Disney World, Universal Studios, all the things that Florida has to offer. We had lunch at the Officers Club, and we talked about old times. We always discussed books because we are both avid readers.

Bill and I traveled to France and Italy on tours after Bill could no longer drive the country roads of Germany and England where we loved staying at B&B's. We celebrated our 50th Wedding Anniversary surprise party given to us by our children and grandchildren. I still don't know how they kept it a complete secret. Afterwards my neighbor told me she was almost afraid to visit as she might accidentally give it away.

Bill played golf three times a week with his “gang” at Fort Meade. But his memory was failing and his golf buddies had to help him remember what ball was his. The drive from our house to Fort Meade was 15-20 minutes; one time Bill took hours to return home – he had evidently just been driving around all that time. Long after he no longer played at all, he told everyone he still played three days a week at Ft. Meade.

Bill's battle with Alzheimer's was my battle, too. I hated the fact that we had absolutely no control over it, and I was often resentful that Bill, of all people, a man who had never done a mean thing to anyone was made to suffer the mental and physical deterioration that is Alzheimer’s.

It wasn't fair, and yet I also realized that we had been so very blessed all our married lives. We had financial security, the opportunity to travel anywhere we wanted to go, and above all we had two wonderful children who gave us eight perfect grandchildren.

In December of 2002, we moved from Windward Drive to Valrico, Florida to be close to Jay and his family so that I could get help with Bill. I hated moving from my home of 34 years, from my friends, from my commissary, my doctors at Ft. Meade, from my wonderful library, and even from Diehl's Produce Stand. I also missed going to Sunday dinner at Enid's and playing Bridge. It was difficult.

And it was necessary because I needed help.

Finally I got into a support group and the people were wonderful. A gentleman would come and stay with Bill while I went to the grocery store or had my hair cut. Sometimes I needed that time. My granddaughter Karen and her partner Cathy were wonderful. Because Cathy worked as a hospice counselor, she seemed to know what activities would keep Bill happy and occupied. But Bill found the transition to new surroundings very confusing. His condition worsened, and he passed away in September 2003.

We had a memorial service in Florida for family and friends, but Bill's ashes were being interred at the Veteran's Cemetery in Crownsville, MD. Two weeks later, we held a service at the Veterans Memorial Building. Enid delivered Bill's eulogy and Dine' sang "On Eagle's Wings". It was very moving. All of our friends from Severna Park were there, and Bus flew up with Jay, Bonnie, Karen and me. Ellen and Tom drove from Indiana with their children.

Over the next eighteen months, I suppose I experienced loneliness for the first time in my life and to compound my emotional mourning period, my brother Bus passed away from bone marrow cancer. It took another few months before I finally rented a small apartment in Carmel, Indiana near Ellen. It was one of my better decisions. I have made a number of new friends, joined the Red Hat Society and lunch with the ladies, and I am playing Bridge again. I also spend a lot of time with Ellen and her family.

I wish I had taken Bus on a trip to Paris.

I wish Ellen and Jay were closer. I regret the fact that Jay and Ellen's families do not get to see each other very often. Being military families, they were always moving from one base to another: From Europe to California to Florida. When Tom retired, he and Ellen decided to take up residence in Indiana. She had fond memories of having grown up there. When Jay retired, he and Bonnie chose Florida.

We have gotten together in Ocean City, Maryland for a week twice in their lives. It was glorious!!! We ate steamed crabs, walked the boardwalk, rode the waves, and we talked, talked, and talked.

There were so many trips and adventures in Bill's and my life together.

We made friends wherever we lived and kept them all our lives. There were so many cocktail parties and progressive dinners at Fairwinds and so many pool parties, birthday parties and anniversary celebrations over the years. There has been so much love in my life.

Bill's battle with Alzheimer's was my battle, too. I hated the fact that we had absolutely no control over it, and I was often resentful that Bill, of all people, a man who had never done a mean thing to anyone was made to suffer the mental and physical deterioration that is Alzheimer’s.

It wasn't fair, and yet I also realized that we had been so very blessed all our married lives. We had financial security, the opportunity to travel anywhere we wanted to go, and above all we had two wonderful children who gave us eight perfect grandchildren.

In December of 2002, we moved from Windward Drive to Valrico, Florida to be close to Jay and his family so that I could get help with Bill. I hated moving from my home of 34 years, from my friends, from my commissary, my doctors at Ft. Meade, from my wonderful library, and even from Diehl's Produce Stand. I also missed going to Sunday dinner at Enid's and playing Bridge. It was difficult.

And it was necessary because I needed help.

Finally I got into a support group and the people were wonderful. A gentleman would come and stay with Bill while I went to the grocery store or had my hair cut. Sometimes I needed that time. My granddaughter Karen and her partner Cathy were wonderful. Because Cathy worked as a hospice counselor, she seemed to know what activities would keep Bill happy and occupied. But Bill found the transition to new surroundings very confusing. His condition worsened, and he passed away in September 2003.

We had a memorial service in Florida for family and friends, but Bill's ashes were interred at the Veteran's Cemetery in Crownsville, MD. Two weeks later, we held a service at the Veterans Memorial Building. Enid delivered Bill's eulogy and Dine' sang "On Eagle's Wings". It was very moving. All of our friends from Severna Park were there, and Bus flew up with Jay, Bonnie, Karen and me. Ellen and Tom drove from Indiana with their children.

Over the next eighteen months, I suppose I experienced loneliness for the first time in my life and to compound my emotional mourning period, my brother Bus passed away from bone marrow cancer. It took another few months before I finally rented a small apartment in Carmel, Indiana near Ellen. It was one of my better decisions. I have made a number of new friends, joined the Red Hat Society and lunch with the ladies, and I am playing Bridge again. I also spend a lot of time with Ellen and her family.

As I approach my 87th birthday, I can hardly believe it. I have been so blessed. I don't know how much longer I will be on this Earth, but I still plan on doing some traveling to Europe and enjoying watching my great grandchildren grow. Karen gave birth to triplets in November 2006. Karen and Cathy's Triplets: Skyler, Braden, and Daylin.

Sandra recently had her third child, a girl whom they named Sydney. She joins Savannah and Seth who are seven and five respectively. They are all beautiful and perfectly healthy. Perhaps, this reminiscing has jogged some old memories. Some things I haven't thought about in many years.

After retiring from the Army as a full colonel and completing nearly thirty-years of service including tours to Vietnam and to the Middle East where he served under Schwarzkopf in Desert Storm, he was employed at Florida State University in Tallahassee, Florida as Director of Professional Education for the university's Center for Professional Development. While he was there, he took advantage of the opportunity to get his doctorate in education. The entire family takes frequent trips together: both skiing and to the beach and after forty years of marriage Jay remains crazy about his wife Bonnie.

We have gotten together in Ocean City, Maryland for a week twice in their lives. It was glorious!!! We ate steamed crabs, walked the boardwalk, rode the waves, and we talked, talked, and talked.

There were so many trips and adventures in Bill's and my life together.

It has been a wonderful life!

There are so many wonderful memories! I try not to think that I may never see my mother, Aunt Tib, my brother, Virginia Lee, or my Bill again. Sometimes the thought is unbearable. Enid assures me they are all waiting somewhere, but I am not sure.

I try not to think of those last years when Bill was so sick. He was so restless that he couldn't sit and watch the golfers from our lanai. The worst, of course, occurred when one day he came out of the bathroom and didn't know me.

However, one more blessing in my life occurred when he was in the hospital, the day before he passed. He had been semi-comatose, but he awoke seeming very alert. He looked at me and said, "I never said, 'No' to you; did I?"

No, he never did!