The Arnolds by Elizabeth Ann from Pokatan, Happy- Snappy Arnold (Traff)

I grew up surrounded by love – oh, and boys. Lots and lots of boys. I was the youngest of six children and the only girl. I’ve probably said this before, but I really landed in a sweet position in our family. I like to say I was spoiled, but not spoiled rotten. I didn’t have to do much, but I still had to behave myself and have a good attitude about things. (“Come down when you have a smile on your face,” was the rule at our house.) My brothers did the outside chores. Sure, I took care of my horse when I rode (caught him, curried him, saddled and bridled him, etc.), and I occasionally threw a few hay bales to the back of the wagon, but for the most part, I coasted. The same went for inside the house chores. My mom was a great cook and baker, and she did most of that sort of thing. I set the table, but I can’t even say that I consistently helped with dishes. I did help on special occasions, when lots of company was coming. I cleaned and brought things down from the attic. I loved helping set up for Thanksgiving, Christmas, and Easter, and I definitely helped get ready to go camping. I would say that most of the time, though, I coasted on household chores as well. In retrospect, I wish I had done more to help both my mom and my dad, but I can’t go back and change what was, and I admit, I enjoyed my level of involvement in household activities (or lack thereof).

Me, coming down with a "smile" on my face.

Arnold family shortly after my arrival

 So I was the youngest of six, and I was a tagalong to boot. The age difference between my oldest brother and me is 14 years, and my youngest brother was still 5.5 years older. The older four brothers tell many stories about their growing up years. They were all clustered together, four boys under three years apart, with twins in the middle. They worked hard and played hard. 

Four of the cutest little trouble makers you could ever find: Vincent, Jon, Don, and Steve

Of all the stories they told about growing up, my favorite was the one where the youngest of those four broke his leg. They all tell the story a little differently, but my favorite version is from the brother who broke his leg. Seems fair that he gets the rights to tell that one. Here’s his story:

“May 5, 1954 about 7 in the evening: The Arnold boys are playing in the horse pasture southwest of the house. Jon and Don were there. Steve might have been elsewhere doing some 3rd grade homework...I can't recall. We had caught old Dolly, our Shetland pony, had tied a rope around her neck, and were taking turns riding her around a sinkhole in the pasture. Jon and Don had on those hats that have about 6 colored stripes vertically arranged (the type you would normally expect to see a propeller mounted on top of)  and when I was taking a quick lap around the sinkhole one of them threw their hat at me. Dolly accelerated and I fell off. How, I can't tell you, but I knew instantly I had broken my right leg. After the brothers stood me up 2 or 3 times they reached that conclusion too. Someone ran for dad and he quickly realized I had a problem more serious than the usual bumps and bruises. Family legend has it I was horribly afraid they were going to shoot me because my leg was broke as had been done shortly before to one of our horses. I can neither confirm or deny that aspect as I simply don't remember, but it sounds good so let’s let it stand.

As mother wasn't a driver and there were 3 other boys and a baby to be put to bed, Winnie Klockeman was the driver and dad held me in the back seat as we went first to see Dr. Nehring in Preston and then immediately to St. Mary’s Hospital in Rochester. Once we were at St. Mary's they set the leg and wrapped it tightly. At that point the most painful part of the experience was over. I was taken to a semi-private room in one of the older St. Mary’s buildings. I've never been able to figure out which one, probably Joseph or Domatilla. There I was placed in traction, both feet straight up attached through a pulley to 5 or 10 pound weights. I guess they didn't want the right leg to end up longer than the left. Thus I spent the next 30 days or so. Now thirty days in traction, pre-television would count as hard time in any lock up in the country…. Anyway, my one strong memory from that stay (outside of learning to tell time) was that Dad made the trip for the 7 pm to 9 pm visiting hours every night I was in there save possibly one when one of his brothers substituted. Now I'm sure that a farmer in the spring of 1954 with cows to milk, chores to do, crops to plant and till, etc., etc., etc. could have thought of a lot better way to use every night in May and early June than driving 30 miles of bad highway to listen to a 5 year old complain about being bored for 2 hours. The experience didn't teach me not to do dumb things on horses, but it did teach me a great deal about a father’s love and the importance of being there. I realize this is a half century late, but hey dad, thanks for coming.

Eventually I was placed in a cast which went from my waist to my right foot and left knee. I remained so immobilized until the cast was removed on my birthday, July 9, 1954. The total bill from St. Mary's was $600 which Dad paid off over several years by donating blood.”

The only picture we have of Bim (Vincent) on his crutches

 Another favorite story came from my dad.

“I remember the time that Don fell out of the car. I had lost a couple of pigs out in the field and was going to get them. I had all the boys in the backseat of a two door car. I was in a hurry.  I saw the boys were all looking out the back window, and I said ‘What you lookin’ at?’ They said, ‘Don fell out.’ I guess they wanted to see how far he rolled.”

One of the joys of growing up with five brothers is that I eventually got five sisters-in-law.  They started coming along when I was pretty little. Teri, the first to dare to venture into our family, tells stories of the sideways looks I gave her as a seven-year-old when she was holding hands with MY brother. It didn’t take long, though, before I realized what a blessing it would be adding sisters to the family.

This story from my sister-in-law Sheila might best describe the kind of family we are.

“I remember at Sarah’s baptism when Audrey was on one end of a wobbly camping table carving the turkey ham, and Steve was on the other end of the table carving a ham. The ham bounced to the floor. I looked at Audrey in horror thinking, ‘She’ll never let me serve it now.’ However, she looked back at me and said, ‘Hurry and pick it up and brush it off, and nobody needs to know that it was on the floor.’ From that moment on, I knew we would get along just fine.”

As the family grows...This was a moment along the way, with Jon & Teri's and Steve & Sheila's families.

 I tend to be nostalgic when I have a birthday coming up, but it doesn’t really matter WHEN you bring up the past. I will always smile and launch into a story, as I have been taught to do by the best of them. That’s one reason why this picture below was an amazing gift from my brother Steve and sister-in-law Sheila. Their daughter Sarah took the pictures at her brother Seth’s wedding, a joyful family occasion. We have this beautiful picture of all of us with the big smiles that we wear when we all get together, and I have placed in a central location in the house. It is a real treasure.

I love the inserts of each of the couples as well!

The picture on the left is my mom, taking her first steps. I like them on my harvest-y buffet.

 But Steve and Sheila didn’t stop there with the gift. They also gave me a second picture, one that reflects another side of the Arnolds. As often as we are just plain happy together, we are also just plain silly together. I love having both reminders of our family dynamics.

The silly us.

The clock is ticking, and my 58^th birthday is approaching quickly (September 28). I feel nothing but joy in being placed here in my family of origin and then getting to be a part of the Traff family as well. Raising up our own kids into adults happened in the blink of an eye. Only now can I imagine how my parents felt as they did the same. Our Arnold family gatherings are enormous and loud and chaotic, just the way we all like it, and just the way Mom and Dad would have wanted it as well. I believe that with all my heart, and I am thankful for the stories and the laughter and the love.

Us, last Thanksgiving. Plus a friend. That's pretty typical of us, always wanting a few more people in the gathering....