Not much reminds me of my dad more than a squeeze coin purse. He carried one in his pocket at all times, packed full of change. The points where you squeezed the purse were usually darker than the rest of the purse from the motor oil that stained his fingers for most of his life. I remember him pulling the purse out of his front pant pocket, squeezing it between his thumb and middle finger and giving it a shake while holding it out for me to choose a coin. I remember the smell of the purse, a combination of copper from the pennies warmed from the heat of his pant pocket, plastic and oil. I remember the sound of the coins hitting each other.
Among the things I found in my Mom’s attic was an old, barely used squeeze coin purse. It was not one of dads, or maybe it was a spare. It is stiff and slightly cracked — probably because it was exposed to heat and cold in the kneewall, but also because it has to be at close to 40 years old. I know this because on the back is an advertisement for the B&B Tavern in Chetek, Wisconsin and my folks stopped going to Chetek for vacations in the mid-1970s when they bought their own property on the other side of the state.
This will be another of the growing pile of useless items the kids will need to deal with when I’m gone because tossing this would be like tossing out a warm memory of my dad, and we can’t have that!
On one of my visits to Chetek to spend time with my grandparents, Grandma told me about the Kitchen Band she and other Women of the Moose were in. She opened a drawer in the kitchen and pulled out a matching pair of tea balls and told me they were part of her costume — her earrings. She then told me about the different instruments — washboards, tubs, jugs and even butter churns. I thought she told me she played a washboard, but in the photo below she’s playing what looks like a butter churn.
Googling Women of the Moose + Kitchen Band brings up an article about a Washington State Women of the Moose Kitchen Band written by none other than Sherwood Anderson. (Okay, not THE Sherwood Anderson.). So maybe that was something that Women of the Moose did back then.
As always, I wish I’d paid better attention when Grandma told me about this. I also wish I had one of the tea balls she wore for earrings. I’m lucky that I have this photograph.
Two Rivers, Wisconsin Tuesday Evening July 3, 1945
Recalls Early Fishing Days When Indians Hunted, Fished in Vicinity
by Eunice La Pean
There’s an open house celebration at the Koeser Homestead this afternoon and evening, for the regal “lady of the house” on 1322 Madison Street is 90 years old today and 89 out of her 90 years were spent in Two Rivers.
That’s almost a century of living. And yet today Mrs. Koeser is as alert and vivaciously interested in things surrounding her as her only son and four daughters. She can converse with any caller on current wartime problems, having lived through five wars herself and knows all the ace radio commentators by name.
Parents Shipwrecked
Mrs. Koeser’s story has a new angle. Shipwreck.
Mr. and Mrs. Peter Degler were coming over from West Prussia in 1855 when their boat was ship-wrecked off the coast of Nova Scotia, and on July 3, 1855, on the straw tick of a warehouse on a little island off the coast, little Elizabeth Degler was born. She was only one year old when her parents came to Two Rivers from Quebec and almost twenty one when she became the bride of the late Ernest Koeser. Now she’s the lone survivor of a family of 13 children.
She can tell you about the Indians who used to hunt and fish in Two Rivers, about picking berries where the Emanuel Evangelical church stands today, about her husband who tied up his boat in the swampland that once oozed into the area where her house is now built, and about the time when Lake Shore park was a row of shanties.
Irish on Southside
She can talk about the old Irish settlers on the Southside and about others she recalls — the Hayes, Van Nostrand, Walslh, Ahearn, Eggers and Grimmer families.
The most remarkable change in affairs within the last century, she believes, is the introduction of the modern household conveniences.
“There’s a difference of night and day between the old days and the present time,” says the nonagenarian who confesses that one of the secrets of her longevity is “good hard work.” Modern appliances turn talk of pumping water and heating irons on the stove to ancient myths, according to the lady.
Until lately, when her eyesight dimmed slightly, Mrs. Koeser quilted constantly. Now she spends more time listening to the radio, especially to political speeches, commentators and plays. Her taste in radio music is partial to hymns and “anti-jazz.”
Active in Evangelical church circles since she was 11 years old, the celebrant is the second charter member of the Ladies Guild of the church and still participates as a member of the Sunday school Adult Bible class.
Grandsons in Service
She has 23 grandchildren and more than 30 great grandchildren.
Helping her receive guests at today’s open house are her four daughters: Mrs. William Klingholz, Indianapolis, Ind.; Mrs. Clyde Nelson, Chicago; and Mrs. Lillian Kaiser, who makes her home with her mother in the city. Her son, Silas Koeser, is also a resident of Two Rivers.
There are five grandsons in service. Tehy are Corp. Carl Nelson of Chicago, a paratrooper now stationed in occupied Germany; Corp. Ernest Nelson, serving with the marines somewhere in the Pacific; Sgt. Donald Koeser of this city, now at Ft. Myers, Fla., after three years overseas; Pfc. Harold Koeser of Elgin, Ill., stationed in France; and Colonel Wm. C. Jackson of Indianapolis, formerly working with the French underground who will soon report to Washington, DC for a new assignment.
Two great grandsons are with the Navy somewhere in the Pacific. They are Donald and Neal Lonzo, sons of Mr. and Mrs. Lester Lonzo of the city.
Note this is from a Two Rivers, Wisconsin newspaper, July 3, 1945 (it was photocopied but the print is very light and I was worried the ink would eventually fade away completely, so I’m documenting this here. The article is about my mother’s mother’s father’s mother; my great-great grandmother.)
Because I knew the story about the shipwreck, I picked up this place mat when we visited Nova Scotia many years ago. [select/click to enlarge]
Clutch Cargo Lips 