In 1968 Ruth Wrote About a Terrible Shooting That "Shocked the Multitudes."

"We babysat tonite so Diane & Dan could go out for a cocktail and see movie, 'The Graduate' at the Capital in town.

This morning D & D went alone to the beach for a few hours of walking and relaxing after picking up 2 rental strollers at $3 each for a week.

Dr. Martin Luther King was killed by a bullet in the neck in Memphis, Tennessee appearance today.  It shocked the multitudes.  Not good for colored equality.  Afraid of uprisings now everywhere."

That last paragraph was written in red pen.  My mother was probably quoting what she had heard on television about "uprisings."

Dan and I were visiting my parents, John and Ruth Kellogg, in Clearwater FL where they'd moved a year or two earlier.  Lynn was almost two years old and Cindy about 9 months.  You can see all four of us on a couch in the living room of the condo.

I didn't recall that we had seen "The Graduate" that particular night, but vividly recall the cocktail at Schraft's, a restaurant/bar in Clearwater.  We were sitting at the bar when the television on the wall in front of us broadcast the news and film about the death of Martin Luther King.  It was a horrifying moment, not unlike the assassination of John Kennedy in 1963.  You hear the words, see the picture, but it is too awful to believe.  

"Help Me!"

One day Lottie Meredith phoned Ruth, crying hysterically, "Ruth!  Ruth!  Help me - my finger is caught in the sewing machine."
Trying to be calm, Ruth said, "What do you mean 'caught'?"
"The needle came down right into my fingernail.  It's bleeding and it hurts so much!"
"Can't you just release the needle - turn the wheel on the machine so it comes out?"
Still crying, Lottie said, "No, I can't.  I'm afraid I will just make it worse."

I was home so Mom (Ruth) and I ran to the garage, backed her Packard sedan into the alley and drove the two miles to the my grandmother's two-flat on Iowa Street in Chicago.  We had lived there until 1941 when we moved to 1210 N. Euclid in Oak Park.

Ruth was able to turn the wheel on the side of the sewing machine to pull the needle upward out of Lottie's bloody finger. Then she had me put ice in a bowl so that Lottie could put her finger in it.  This was 1949, so Grandpa Meredith (James) had passed away.  Her son, Jimmie, still lived with Lottie, though he was out when this happened.

Was this just a random accident?  Not exactly.  In the Nov. 5, 2013 post I mentioned that Lottie was very poorly coordinated because, as a lefty, her teachers tried to force her to use her right hand.  They tied her left hand behind her back.  It didn't work.  She still used her left hand to write, but was forever after awkward in doing tasks around the house or yard.  It seems barbaric, but tying up the right hand was an accepted practice in the late 1800s when she was a child.

Oddly enough, my father, John, was the first person to notice that our middle daughter, Cindy Pellettiere, was left handed.  When he and Ruth were visiting from Florida, he started to hand food or toys to little Cindy's right hand - until we realized it!  That was in 1968 when she was about a year old.

The picture is not in Pieces of a Life.  Taken in June, 1949, it shows my brother, Ken Kellogg (age 17), dressed for the Senior Prom at Oak Park High, with his mother, Ruth (age 42), and grandmother, Lottie Meredith (62).  They're in the Kellogg living room, framed against swirled plaster walls that were a pale aqua.  Past Ken you can see the arched entry to the dining room and the Danish Modern furniture, quite stylish at that time.

Precious Post Card From the Past

In the last post, I mentioned finding another treasure in a large box of diaries written later in Ruth Meredith Kellogg's life.  This is it - a post card made by Fain & Corning, 1716 W. Madison St., Chicago.  I'm assuming that's the photography studio, which probably was close to where the Merediths lived on the near west side of Chicago.

The young Meredith family is shown in June, 1910.  My grandmother "Lola" (aka Lottie or Carlotta), is shown in a large, feather-trimmed hat and tailored shirtwaist and jacket.  She looks so much older to me, but is only 23.  My grandfather, Jim Meredith (age 29), wears a derby, bow tie and suit, quite dressed up for the family photo.  Their prized daughter and my mother, Ruth Viola, has a special hat and coat on as well.  She is just weeks away from her fourth birthday.

The back of the card, which is where the address is shown, has more intriguing information.  It's addressed to my Great-Great Grandfather, William Henry Olmstead on Rural Delivery Route 12, Saranac, Michigan.  Jim's mother, Ruth Parks Olmstead, was named for the wife William lost in childbirth at age 25 when young Ruth was born. (Yep, more Ruths to add to the mix!)   In 1910, William Olmstead was an old man of 87, living with family in the state he had always called home.   He lived another six years, passing on in June, 1916.

Though we don't see William's handwriting on the post card, several of his letters were passed on to me.  He has elegant handwriting.  I was told long ago that he was a school teacher.  Someone did address this card to him, most likely Jim, even though he had little education.  It was his employer, Western Electric, that helped Jim Meredith achieve a high school education, even holding a graduation ceremony for all of the employees who earned diplomas.  

One question entered my mind when I saw the card.  You too?  How did it end up with the Merediths when it was mailed to Saranac in June, 1910 from Chicago?  I speculate that the Merediths either reclaimed it when William died or when his daughter, Ruth, died in 1923.  I should mention that Ruth's husband, Nathaniel Meredith, had died in 1907.  He had fought with a Michigan regiment in the Civil War.  Nathaniel and Ruth were the parents of Jim Meredith.  (See the abbreviated family tree on the last page of Pieces of a Life to help figure out who's who.)