Getting There | Family Reunion 1958
by Elouise
1949-51 Nash Ambassador – similar to ours
It’s nearly midnight in July 1958. I’m 14 1/2 years old. We’ve been on the road from Savannah, Georgia, driving to the first-ever family reunion on my father’s side.
We left Mom and Sister #4, now 5 years old, in Savannah. I’m pretty sure we were driving our old second-hand Nash Ambassador (also unaffectionally called a Nashcan). Not a bad car, but not totally reliable, either.
All I remember of the road trip itself is that it took a very long time and the weather was hot. We arrived in Newton, Kansas near midnight. We’d had a little car trouble along the way, and were behind in our schedule.
My father said it was too late to go straight to the family house. We wanted him to call and let them know we were here. They might have a room ready for us. He said no, it was too late. He didn’t want to bother anyone. We would just have to find a motel room.
Several stops later, we still didn’t have a room. It seemed all regular motel rooms had been taken. My father didn’t like our idea about sleeping in the car. Finally he pulled into the only gas station still open, and asked about a place to stay until the morning.
The owner looked us over—a pretty sad sight, I fear—and hesitated. My father pressed him for ideas about where we could sleep. The man finally said he had a few ‘overnight cabins’ back off the road. They weren’t very fancy, but he would let us stay in one of them. He would have to show us how to get there.
We followed his car down a dark, unpaved bumpy road. When we got to the cabin my father went in to check it out. When he came back I could tell he wasn’t pleased.
He told us it wasn’t as clean as he’d hoped it would be, and he was embarrassed to have us sleep in such a place. But it looked like the best we could do right now.
He also said again, in response to our questions, that it was too late at night to “bother the folks at home.” He would call them in the morning. My heart sank. This wasn’t what we were expecting.
The cabin was small and dirty. It had two makeshift bedrooms, and a small bathroom. I remember not wanting to use it because it was so dirty. Looking back, I wonder what this cabin was normally used for. I probably don’t want to know.
Sister #2 and I slept in one bed—dirty sheets and floor. Sister #3, Diane, slept with our father in the other room. I lay awake a long time listening to hear whether my father was asleep yet.
I was anxious, and felt responsible for Sister #3. I wished she were in the bed with us. We would have made room for her. Then I felt guilty for thinking like this. I asked God to keep us all safe. At some point I fell sleep.
The next morning we arrived at the reunion. Our hosts weren’t happy that Dad hadn’t called to let them know where we were—no matter how late it was.
I still think about this event. Among other things, it captures my father’s steadfast determination not to ask for help from his family because he didn’t want to be a ‘bother.’ Not even when his three young daughters were also in the equation. I wonder where this determination came from.
This experience also highlights several things about me. I was fearful about Sister #3’s wellbeing. I felt responsible for her, yet helpless to do anything to change the sleeping arrangements. I also felt guilty because I was anxious. I wonder what I would do differently today, and why?
© Elouise Renich Fraser, 5 August 2015
Photo from auto.howstuffworks.com
1949-51 Nash Ambassador
Telling the Truth 
My dear niece, too few people understand that a 14-year old is an adult, however immature. Your concern for your sibling is understandable to me. As smart as your Dad was, apparently he had an inadequate understanding of children. This helps me to see your side of the story better. I still don’t understand John. Your view of him is far different from what we knew of him. Although most of the Renichs were individualists, most of them had no problem showing up on the doorstep without previous invitation. Yet, it was usually earlier than midnight. Perhaps the time was the significant factor
We wish we had had more contact with the rest of the family, to know them better. Blessings to you. Love, Aunt Leta
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Thanks, Aunt Leta, for these kind comments. I think my father was unprepared to be a parent of four daughters. His behavior that night was, however, no different than his behavior when he was much older. The desire “not to be a bother” was deeply ingrained in him. I can understand it, in my own way. I’ve had to learn not just to ask for help as needed, but to receive help when it’s offered (even though I didn’t ask). Not being a bother was an important value in our family–in part because we weren’t to “bother” Mom with too much noise, for example. I had to learn early on how to fend for at least myself when it came to taking care of whatever needed to be done. I also think you’re correct about this particular occasion–the time factor. It only made it that much more difficult for him to just show up. I used to wish I could change this in him! Even as an older adult I pled with him sometimes to accept help from us. He was always reluctant, insisting he could get by on his own. Even though he welcomed our unsolicited help from time to time!
Hoping you and Uncle Waldo have a wonderful week.
Elouise
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he didn’t want to be a ‘bother.’ Oh how I have lived for 72 years with this attitude drilled in until it is a part of me. And yet if I was on the other foot and someone knocked on my door I would be absolutely thrilled to open my home to them. What a weird set of confusions we are.
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John, I love your last sentence: “What a weird set of confusions we are.” Amen to that! And–I have to say I’m with you on what I would do today, even with the desire that I not be a ‘bother’ to anyone. Thanks for the personal comment.
Elouise
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