The Story of My Parents

Chapter 1

 Moma was born in a small house in Wilmer, Texas.  It was the days when doctors actually made house calls.  Someone went to fetch the doctor.   Dr. W. J. Ridgell had come to Kleberg, Texas, a small community near Wilmer and in the southeast corner of Dallas, Texas.  Kleberg, now a part of Dallas, still holds the charm of a small town.

 Dr. Ridgell  was a tall young man who rode horseback to his new job from Forney, Texas.  A graduate of Louisville, Kentucky Medical College, he had just completed post-graduate work at Tulane University, New Orleans when he unpacked his saddlebags in the little town at the edge of the wooded Trinity River bottoms.  Dr. Ridgell was loved by everyone in the small town.

 On this particular night, when Dr. Ridgell reached the small home in Wilmer, he found a woman with a swollen belly and in labor.  William Claude and Vera Lee Dixon Turner would soon be parents for the third time. They lost their first child so I am sure that fear was in the back of their minds as the new baby was coming.

 Dr.Ridgell made his way into the house, sat his black bag in the corner and assessed the situation at hand.  Mother was doing fine.  The stabbing pains in her belly would soon result in a new life.  William, husband and father, was nervously awaiting the arrival of his first daughter.  Fathers were not really in to helping with the deliveries back in the 30's.  Vera’s mother, Mary Margaret Warren Dixon Whisenhunt  (“Granny”)  was on hand to assist her own daughter.  Mary Margaret’s father was a preacher-man with the last name of Warren.

 As time clicked by, the pains became more intense and much closer together.  It was not long before delivery began to emerge.  As Dr. Ridgell performed the same task he had performed so many times before, it became apparent there was a problem.  The tiny girl was in distress.  I am sure a wave of panic swept over Vera as she saw the worried look on the face of everyone in the room.  This was not going to be a routine, easy delivery.  The child, who would be named “Margaret” after her grandmother, had her umbilical cord wrapped firmly around her neck.  Her tiny body could not gasp the air so crucial for survival.  While Dr.Ridgell was pulling the cord to free it from the small throat, Granny was mixing a cup of warm coffee and sugar.  She then fed small amounts to the baby to stimulate breathing.  The baby became active and was wrapped in a warm blanket and placed in her mother’s arms.  It was March 20th, 1931; the day my mother was born.  Margaret Ann Turner joined big brother Earl.  He would be known as “Son” and she as “Sis.”

 Facts are sketchy regarding the first few years of Moma’s life.  When she was about 4 or 5 years old, the family moved from Wilmer to Kleberg, Texas. The young family needed a home and pickin’s were slim.; money was even slimmer.  A man named Mitchell Gordon was a friend of Claude’s.  Mr. Gordon  let Claude bring his wife and small kids to live in a chicken house on his property. Working feverishly to clean it up and make it suitable for his children, Claude moved their modest belongings in and this would be home for a while.  In spite of the fact that they were very poor, Moma loved her daddy.  She remembers sitting on his lap making promises of cooking biscuits while Claude mixed up his homemade whiskey.

 Moma spent her days playing ball, climbing on trees and swinging from a tire secured on a tree branch by a rope tied firmly around it.  These were fun times.  Her favorite activity involved school.  Well, “make believe” school.  Faye Gordon was the daughter of Mitchell Gordon.  She was also someone Moma looked up to.  Faye would gather the children, notch out a small corner in her “pretend” school which was usually in a little shed or out in the yard, and “teach.”  Some of Moma’s earliest school lessons actually came during this game she loved so much.  She also sat in the dirt and made match stem houses.  Her favorite playmate, Cousin Berthine loved playing with Moma.  They loved rolling wheels down hills.  Once in a while her daddy took the kids to a movie in Pleasant Grove.  The cost, a whopping 10 cents a movie!  Moma’s Aunt Claudie Ruth Whisenhunt (later Aldridge and Vera Turner’s next to the youngest sister) would hold their hands and swing them around. 


 Moma a loved reading and remembers her favorite books as “Sick a Bell Sally.”  When she was older, she would advance to romantic novels, “True Confessions.”  She had fun working and remembers Mildred Erlene Whisenhunt (later Bradley) as being her favorite relative (Aunt).  Favorite school chum was Mary Frances Cobb.  Her favorite celebrity, Tex Ridder.  She dreamed at night that he sang to her.


 Moma’s next home was a tent.  From there, a friend of the family built a two room house and Claude would move his family into it.


Chapter 2

 Daddy was  born on April 4, 1927 at a house in Maydell, Texas.  A midwife delivered him to Arthur Rush and Linnie Mae Frances Sexton Paslay (Pasley).  The following is the first remarks of his mother, Linnie Mae Frances Sexton Pasley about her first born son, as recorded in her own handwriting.


 Daddy shared his first real memory with me.  It involves a tin cup.  His grandfather was in an ole’ folks home.  Each patient was issued a tin cup.  Daddy remembers his grandfather clanging the tin cup, probably waiting for his coffee.  As a small boy, Daddy also had a tin cup.  He would stand on a chair and hold it up for his mother to fill with syrup he could dip his biscuit in it.  A tin cup seems such a simple thing to us now, but it meant so much to him back then.  It held a special memory of his grandfather.  It had deep meaning for his little belly when he was hungry.  So special was this memory, it would be the first in a line of them he holds dear.  I have seen him teach his grandchildren to hold cups out to catch rain drops in.  So often in life we take advantage of things.  In the early years for Moma and Daddy, these small things held so much importance. 


 When Daddy was about three years old, his family moved  from Maydell, Texas to Grapevine.  He would grow up in Grapevine. In 1930, his family lived on “Dr. Bob’s Place.”  After that, they moved to the home of a dairy farmer - “The Willis’ Place”.  They were allowed to live in a log cabin chicken house on the land.  The house was put on skids and pulled down near  the creek by horses.  The house had a dirt floor.  It was placed near the bank of the creek.   One  day, a chicken snake slithered out from under the house.  Vesta screamed so loud, her daddy had to quit plowing to come see what had happened.  He didn’t move very fast, but got there to rescue her from the slithery creature, never missing a beat of the song he was singing, “If Jesus goes with me, I’ll go anywhere.”  Daddy wasn’t afraid of chicken snakes.  In fact, according to Aunt Vesta Mae he wasn’t afraid of much.

 Mr. Willis owned the dairy.   The family grew  tomatoes & sweet potatoes. When the crop was ready, they would clean and wash the bushel baskets and then travel to the Farmer’s Market in Downtown Dallas and sell the produce.  This is how they made a living.  In turn, they gave Mr. Willis one half of all the profits for allowing them to live on his land. On one occasion, as Daddy’s father was working on his 1927 Roadster Model T, a cow was grazing in the tomato patch.  Mr. Pasley reached for a screw driver and threw it at the cow.  The blow knocked a horn right off it’s head. 


 Times were very hard.  When Daddy was in grade school, his mother would give him two eggs to trade for candy.  One egg would rake in a penny’s worth of the local store’s finest sweets.  Daddy would carry the eggs carefully as he imagined how good that candy would be.  Unfortunately, there were times the eggs did not make it all the way to the store.  I believe this is a special memory for Daddy.  It was a loving act he has always remembered of his gentle mother.
 
  Daddy and his big sister, Vesta  would spend time at the stock tanks at Dr. Bob’s place.  They fished for crawdads.  Daddy would reach down deep into the water with both hands, many times being pinched by the irritated crawdads.  It didn’t bother him.  Sister Vesta was a different story.   Needless to say, our Daddy would have the biggest bucket of crawdads.   Proud of their catch, the two kids would bring their crawdads home in a syrup bucket.  Then their mama would cook them up for a feast.  When going to school, he carried his lunch in the same syrup bucket.  Or, sometimes just a can with a lid on it.  Salt bacon was one of his favorite meals.  Soon Daddy and Vesta would be joined by other brothers, Daniel,  R. L., and Adrain.  Daniel died as an infant.  It would be much later in life when Daddy would have an additional sister added to the family named Sheryl Ann Pasley (later Stembridge).

 During their school years, sister Vesta would tease Daddy about a girl named Mary Alice Combs.  She would taunt little brother with words like, “lickety lips.”  She would have to run when Daddy would take out after her to whip up on her for teasing him.  When asked who his best friends were as a child, his sister Vesta was first on the list.  Norman Travis  came in as a close second.  The two people Daddy admired most growing up was Alan Ladd, the actor and Abraham “Abe”  Lincoln, one of our finest presidents.  His favorite books were, “Lobo the Wolf” - “White Fang” - “Treasure Island”- “Aladdin & His Wonderful Lamp” - and, “Arabian Knights.  Daddy’s teacher encouraged his reading.


 One day the family had taken the wagon to go see about a house.  Daddy and Vesta were sitting in the back.  Daddy was picking up a tricycle when suddenly he tipped and fell overboard.  When he hit the ground, a wheel from the wagon ran over his forehead, skinning him.  The blood frightened Vesta.  She spent the night awake, worried that her little brother would die. 

 Daddy’s mother made a real impact on his life.  Although he was only nine when she died, to this day he recalls her as, “quite a woman.”  She prayed for her children each and every night.  Vesta and Daddy have both told me she was a “kind woman.”  Their memories of her are always spoken with a gentle calm.  Daddy  has told me they were buddies and there has always been a sense of sadness in his eyes when he speaks of her.  Daddy was in the third grade attending Grapevine Elementary when she died.  This would change the course of his life and that of his siblings forever.  For all of the loving memories he feels for his mother, bitterness runs deep for the woman that would come into their lives following his mother’s death.  I do not remember my daddy saying unkind things about too many people, with the exception of this woman.   The abuse he and his siblings suffered at her hands was unbearable.  His father had moved the family to Dallas to move in with - in his own words - “The Angel of Death from Hell.”   I asked Daddy’s sister, Vesta, about the stepmother.  She refused to respond stating it was best she not even begin speaking of the woman.  I detected in the tone of her voice the same bitter pain Daddy has about her. The actions of this woman to these children would result in the authorities having to remove them from the home and place them in an orphanage (The Sunshine Home).  When the judge asked Daddy if the kids should be removed, Daddy spoke up and  said he believed they should.  This was a heavy burden for a young boy to carry.  After the county removed the kids from Mr. Pasley and his wife, Daddy’s father was then drafted into the Army.


 After attending a Dallas school, Daddy went back for a half term at Grapevine.  The following events would alter Daddy’s military career.  He went to Trinity Hights Elementary in Dallas.  When he changed to Harold C. Bud Elementary, he was put back ½ grade.  He was not promoted to the 4th grade until the following year.  He was kept in a low 3rd  grade.  Ultimately, this caused him to graduate in January 1945 instead of May or June 1944.  Those extra months caused a midterm graduation.  The delay in his graduation ended up keeping him from the roughest part of World War 2.    God had a plan and part of it was keeping Daddy around. 

 Daddy attended 4th and 5th grade in Dallas on Beckley & Saner.  For the 6th grade, he had moved to West Dallas.  He attended Cement City School, now called Thomas Edison on Singleton.  He went to Croshier Tech from January 1941 thru January 1945, earning his High School Degree.  Later in life, he would attend some community colleges.  He also attended the Southwestern Baptist Theological Seminary in Ft. Worth.  Daddy is an ordained minister.
 

Chapter 3


 As stated in Chapter 2, Daddy’s being held back a semester created a mid-term graduation.  Instead of graduating in May or June 1944, he graduated from N. R. Croshier Tech in downtown Dallas  in January 1945.  The Normandy invasion was June 6, 1944.  Due to what could possibly have been seen as an obstacle in elementary school  turned into an opportunity for Daddy later in life.  His own father would be in the Army during the invasion, but Daddy was 17 years old and still in high school. 


 In 1943, Mr. and Mrs. Tramel took Daddy and his two brothers in to live with them.  They became foster parents for my Daddy and   grandparents for me.  As far back as I can remember, I always thought of Granny Tramel as my grandmother and Daddy Arthur as my grandfather.  Their house was always full of fun things to get into.  There was a small house behind their home that never left an inquisitive child bored.  The place was located on Lake June in Dallas and I loved going there. 


 When they took the boys in, Daddy, R. L. and Adrain,  it got them out of the walls of an orphanage.  Vesta had run away previously and was taken in and taken care of by her future husband Jesse Raymond Shaw.  She was quite a bit younger than he was but their marriage was good, resulted in three children and lasted until his death.  Daddy finished out high school living in the Tramel home,  becoming a family member there. 


 After graduation Daddy was sure to be drafted.  Not wanting to be in the Army,  he immediately enlisted in  the United States Marine Corp.  One of the most enjoyable parts of the interviewing with my parents for this story was to hear Daddy tell about his Marine Corp days.  I have always seen Daddy as someone who obeyed the rules, did what was expected of him and seldom challenged anyone.  In fact there were times when the words “Chalk it up” made me nauseated.  I would have this raging passion to fight something and he would advise me to tone it down - let it go - don’t sweat the small stuff.  Gawd, that irritated me!


 After hearing some of his stories, I see where I got some of the passion for a good fight. It was either March or April 1945 when Daddy joined the U.S.M.C.   I am sure his first months were the typical getting adjusted, boot camp, and learning to follow orders.  He looks quite handsome in his uniform as you can see in the picture above.  I asked him if he still had his gun (only because I was going to tease him).  He said, “Laura,  you should know they don’t let you take those things with you.”  I think he looks very handsome.  Looking at this picture brings home to me young men who have fought and died fighting to maintain freedom for our country.  Daddy was lucky.  God spared him and kept him in a safe place.   Others were not so fortunate.  But, looking at this picture makes me very proud of him.  Maybe the service is where he developed his capacity for such incredible loyalty and commitment.  Maybe this is where he got his strength.  Whatever the background, I know in my heart not one of his children or grandchildren can look at this picture without feeling proud of him for serving his country.  I say all of that and I mean it from the depths of my heart.    I am attaching a few other pictures for the benefit of those reading this story as well as my other siblings.   I appreciate those who  so graciously shared with me for this story.  There is always something about a photo to bring reality home. 


 What I want to share next is the fun stuff.  Those things he got such a chuckle out of when telling me and Moma about them the night of the “interview.”  Daddy made it all the way to being a Corporal.  I know he must have taken a lot of pride in his stripes.  But, he was also familiar with - shall we say - a little mischievous activity. Unfortunately, Daddy didn’t get to keep his stripes very long.   

 Daddy went to China in 1946.  His best friend was named Paul Alexander.  He had another friend named J. J. Moffit.  Due to some mischievous activity, Daddy was on restriction.  Daddy, confined to his barracks,  was growing restless.  He felt he needed a night out on the town and I guess his friend Moffit felt he was right.  He loaned Daddy his “liberty card” in order for him to sneak out.  A man named Teronovich, also confined to his barracks and on restriction,  agreed to go with him.  In order for this incident to make sense, you need to know that a field scarf was actually a tie.   It was necessary to go to the front gate to check out as well as back in.  There was a Top Sergeant named Sid who Daddy describes as looking a lot like Homer Simpson’s daddy.

 Daddy slipped Moffit’s liberty card down and walked right through the gate.  But, when it came Ternovichs’ turn, the “Top”, Sid, called out with a firm, strange accent, “Teronovich there, where are you going there?”  He stated, “I’m checking on restriction Top.”  Sid replied, “With your field scarf on?”  Teronovich stated, “I can wear one if I want to, can’t I?” Ternovich did not make it out.  Daddy, on the other hand, slipped back in with the ease he slipped out with.  He had a friend working the stand at the back who allowed him to slip back in as easy as he slipped out.


 The “Top” attempted to bring the men up on charges.  When listening to their stories Daddy was asked if he had violated his restrictions and left.  Having been advised to deny it, he did.  It came down to one man’s word against the others.  The commander reprimanded the Top Sergeant telling him, “Next time you bring a man up on charges, you better have some evidence! 
 
 I called the Ternovich family in order to interview him for this story.  I spoke with Bill Ternovich’s nephew and apparently he died in 1977. He lived in Michigan all of his life. 

 After returning to the United States, there was an occasion sometime between 1947 and 1948  when a high ranking official came to do an inspection.  Apparently, several of the men in his unit failed it.  The punishment was marching.  I do not mean marching a little.  According to Daddy they marched and marched and marched, and then marched some more.  This went on for hours.  Then, they marched to evening chow time.  They had marched all day long.  It is called “close order drill.”  This included breaks of course, but still was wearing on their nerves.


 After finishing their evening meal, they were going to continue the marching.  Some of  the men decided they had marched enough and said, “That’s it!  That’s all I’m gonna march.”   Daddy was among them.  They began banging their plates on the table making a loud disturbance in addition to denying to resume their marching.  The higher ranking officers decided to make an example out of the four corporals involved in the incident.  Daddy was one of them. 
  

 Daddy was busted from a Corporal to a PFC [Private First Class].  This really ticked him off.  The charge was creating a disturbance.  Needless to say, he lost his precious stripes.  Feeling a little rebellious, Daddy decided he would not sew his PFC patch on his uniform.  One day Major Kafka, his Battery Commander, noticed the missing patch.  He stated, “Pasley, aren’t you a Private First Class?”  Daddy answered, “Yes Sir,  I am.”  Commander Kafka then asked, “So, where is your patch?”  Daddy looked him right in the eye and stated, “Frankly sir, I didn’t think it was worth sewing on.”  Commander Kafka did not see the humor in it so Daddy got to be a Private - all the way to the bottom - following this incident.  (He had actually started working his way back up the chain prior to being discharged). 

 The incidents described above remind me of how human my parents are.  Many times kids grow up thinking their parents never made mistakes.  The child believes they are abnormal because of the mistakes they make and thinking their parents never made them adds to the pressure of feeling inadequate.    I am one of those kinds of kids.  Seeing my dad as a human being makes me respect him all that much more.  Although they were bad decisions at the time, we have had a chance to laugh at them 50 years later.  My respect for him grows deeper because he was able to take the incidents and grow from them. 
Chapter 4

 In March 1949, Daddy was Honorably Discharged from the United States Marine Corp.  He went “home” to Granny Tramel and Daddy Arthur in Pleasant Grove.  One day a car broke down at 8736 Lake June Road.  The two women in the car would be Moma and her sister, Bobbie Lou Turner.  The address was the home of Granny Tramel and Daddy Arthur, and, at that time, my dad.    Moma and Bobbie were on the way to the movie theater.  Coming to the rescue was the recently discharged marine, Arthur R. Pasley, Jr.  This was the day he met Moma. 

 Daddy borrowed his brother, R. L.’s car and took the two women to the movies and dropped them off.   On the way to the movies, Daddy wasted no time.  He asked Moma to go out with him.  She promptly said, “No.”  Dating a man named Gene Mayes at the time, Moma was very loyal.  She did arrange some other dates for Daddy on at least three occasions.  According to Daddy, she picked him some “real culls.”  According to Moma, no, she “did not.”  I guess that issue would have to be the opinion of the participants.  Pawpaw [Claude] went to pick up the broken down car.  For some reason, he was not real impressed with the man flirting with his daughter.  He made no secret that he did not like Daddy.

 One night, Moma and Daddy were going out on a double date.  Neither of their dates showed up.  Moma’s Gene didn’t show and the woman who was to be Daddy’s date didn’t show.  They decided they would just go out together.  They dated each other for a couple of months.  When Daddy asked Moma to marry him, she said no.  Moma’s friend at work stepped in to advise the young teenager.  Inez, from the Auto Row Cafe on Ross Avenue told Moma if she did not marry Daddy, she was crazy.


 While Moma was growing up, she had always known she would marry a man four years older than herself.  Daddy was fifteen days short of being four years  older than Moma.  He must have been quite a romantic.  Kissing in public was not a common practice in those days.  One day Daddy told Moma he was going to take her right down on Main Street in Dallas and kiss her in public.  And, that’s exactly what he did.  His memory lapses when I ask him for details of this event.  Hum....


 Moma and Daddy decided to be married.  The date was set for December 3, 1949.   On one occasion, Moma was sitting on Daddy’s lap.  Claude walked by and very curtly stated, “You aren’t married to him yet.”  Claude disliked and mistrusted  Daddy so much at the time, he refused to even attend the wedding.  Eventually, he saw what a wonderful man Moma had married and they became very close.


 Moma and Daddy were married at Charles Tramel’s home.  Pastor Randall Odom from the First Baptist Church of Pleasant Grove performed the ceremony.  Daddy wore a brown pin stripped suit.  Moma was decked out in a navy blue suit with a white blouse and  white gloves.  She had a very expensive hat with flowers on it to finish out the ensemble.    Grandma Turner [Vera] was there to watch her first daughter marry.  After he really got to know Daddy, I think there may have been days Claude regretted having not been in attendance.  In all the times I saw him with my daddy, he expressed a great deal of love and respect for him. 


 Following the services, there was a big wedding shower for them.  Moma and Daddy had no money.  There would be no honeymoon.  Daddy had no car.  Their wedding meal consisted of club sandwiches from the Pig Stand which was apparently a nice restaurant back then. 

 Their first home was located at 4519 Gaston Avenue.  I recently took photos of the house today.  Moma and Daddy lived in the apartment in the back left side of the building.  Their refrigerator was on the back porch. 


 When Moma and Daddy went home on their wedding night, they dressed for bed.  When they got into bed, it fell completely to the floor.  It seems Mut Tramel, Charles and Jodie fixed the bed to fall down on their wedding night.  I can just imagine the shock on their faces as they fell to the floor. 

 December 3rd.  The first day of a lengthy marriage full of every kind of emotion, a variety of problems, a large family, and a commitment to stick it out, no matter what.
 
 This second picture is the back of the same address.  If you look to the left, you can see the area they lived in. 


 Moma and Daddy’s first year together was a good one.  Since two weeks following his discharge,  Daddy had been working at the Dallas Power and Light Company.  He made a commitment to Moma that he would always work and feed his family.   No matter how tough times got, he always kept that promise.  Moma never let Daddy go to work without getting up and making his breakfast and  packing him a lunch.  She too worked in their early years, but she made being a housewife her main priority. 

 Daddy had purchased a lot at 1115 Oak Hill Circle from Luther Elam (the same man that  Elam,  the street was named after) while still in the service.  He had spent his last “mustering out” money to pay him off.  The lot had cost $450.00.  The last payment was $100.00. 


 Since he had no car and the apartment on Gaston was on the bus line, he rode the bus to work.  It would not be long until they moved to an apartment on Second Avenue.  This too was on the bus line.  Their third home was a garage apartment next to the Pleasant Grove Christian church off Lake June Road.


 They have shared some pretty funny stories about their early years.  On one occasion, Moma had baked a pie.  She was taking it from the oven only to put it in the refrigerator  to get cold.  Daddy did not understand this.  He eats his pie warm.  He doesn’t understand people who want to get pies cold to eat.  He asked Moma, “Why are you putting that pie in the refrigerator?”  Defensively Moma retorted with, “I know what I am doing.”  Right about that time, she dropped the pie right in the middle of the floor - upside down. 

 One day before Moma and Daddy got married,  he brought a picture home.  It was of a little boy milking a cow.  Daddy told Moma he wanted her to give him a son just like the one in the picture.     Exactly nine months and eight days later, she would deliver their first son, Arthur Rush Pasley, III.  Artie was born September 11, 1950.


 Daddy told me there was one occasion when he was at work and Moma, very pregnant, brought him a Baby Ruth candy bar.  When she got there, his co-workers were up a pole.  They hollered down, “Kiss her Art.”  So, he did.   It was really special listening to some of their tender moments reflected by both.  So many times in life, as the years go by, those times get forgotten.  I guess that is why I wanted to write this story so badly.  These simple things are so important in life and I believe important for us to remember. 
  
 During Moma’s pregnancy with Artie, Moma and Daddy began building their first real home.   They had borrowed $3,000.00 from the Mesquite Savings & Loan.  With the lot Daddy had purchased on Oak Hill Circle and a little help from family and friends, 1115 Oak Hill Circle would become their new address.  Each evening while living in the garage apartment next to Pleasant Grove Christian Church, Moma and Daddy would walk .7 miles to the construction site.  Moma would have supper ready for Daddy when he got off the bus.  They would eat and then both would walk together and work together on building the house.  Moma was carrying their first born son at the time and the walks and hard work made her side ache.  Still, she went side by side with Daddy to work on their home.  They also walked back after they were finished for the day.  During this time, Moma never went to bed with dirty dishes in the sink.  Daddy Arthur helped them.  Daddy’s brother R.L. and Bud Elam put the plumbing in.   Below you can see the results of the hard working young couple.

    ;
 Following the birth of Artie, Moma and Daddy moved into their new home with the baby in tow.  By December 6, 1951, they would have their first daughter, Deborah Nell.  I came along on January 8, 1954 - the only child out of five that was not a tax deduction.  Believe me, I have heard about it for - oh, about 45 years.  I would be the baby for only five years.  Then, my baby brother was born on November 14, 1959.  Moma and Daddy decided four children were enough and Daddy had a vasectomy.  Imagine the shock when Moma came up pregnant in the early part of 1960!  God vetoed Moma and Daddy’s decision and sent Julie Frances to join the Pasley Clan on December 30, 1960.  It seems Daddy had a third tube that was missed by the doctor.  So, not only did he get to have another daughter, he got to have an additional vasectomy.   How lucky can one man get?

 After a while of living in their home, the growth of the family and the need for more space became evident.  They sold the house on Oak Hill Circle and moved into a brick home at 1953 Bergstrome in the Piedmont Edition. 


 The next home would be at 1921 Potter Lane in Mesquite.  While living there they bought a cow.  She had a calf.  One night while it was pouring rain, Daddy tried to bring the calf in to shelter.  Mama cow didn’t like him messing with her baby so she promptly butted Daddy right in the butt.   That may have played a role in Daddy sending the calf to a meat packing house and mama cow getting sold.  Moma refused to eat any meat from that calf.  I’m afraid I would have had to agree with her.  I don’t believe it eating pets. 

 Our next home would be 7824 Fair Oaks. 


  I was six years old when we moved into that home.  So many things happened over the years.  Our family has been through every kind of situation you can imagine with the exception of the death of one of us.  There have been many tears, but at least as many smiles and laughs.  Due to the lack of time to have this story ready for my parents 50th Wedding Anniversary, I am forced to stop here.  Photos will follow these pages as we kids grew, some married, all had families of their own.  Artie and his first wife Glenda had the first granddaughter, Shelley Renea’ Pasley.  Artie and Glenda would divorce and Mary Victoria Erickson would join him and they would give birth to a son, Jonathan Rush Pasley.  Deborah would marry Milton [Sparky] Nelms.  They had two sons, Bryan Alan and Christopher Donald Nelms.  I spent five years in love with Kim Edward Hammond  which resulted in Jennifer LeeAnn Pasley being added to my life.  Doug married Melody Ann Truelove which has resulted in Dalton Randall and Tara Marie Pasley.  Julie married a man named Robert Edward Looper.  He brought three children with him into the marriage, Robert Stephen Sheldon, Robert Edward Looper, Jr.  and Christy Elaine  Looper.  Then, Bob and Julie had a son, Edward Blake Looper.   Shelley married Jimmy Chase and gave birth to the first great-grandson, Jerry Ray Chase.
 

 Our family is large.  We have experienced a variety of problems.  But with those, God has given us a great deal of strength.  We never went to bed hungry.  Our home growing up was always clean.  Daddy has always worked and, as far as I know, has never in 50 years called in sick.  He is the toughest man I have ever known.  Although Moma’s physical problems have disabled her some, she is still there, many times handing out her money to help one of her kids.  Watching grandchildren.  Worrying over those of us who have been ill.  Staying married to the same person for fifty years is quite an accomplishment.  Fewer problems than our family had has resulted in the break-up of many marriages and many families.  Although we all carry scars for various reasons, Moma and Daddy stuck it out.  And, I have watched as each of my siblings have grown in various ways.  We all have our own little intricacies, but then who doesn’t.    What I do know is I love them all.  And with this, I want to wish my parents, Art & Margaret Pasley a happy Golden Anniversary.  


    L aura E. Pasley, December 3, 1999


Love Them While You Can
Trip to our Ancestoral Homeland
 

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