Life in Argentina, 1938-1942

The Mission Home in Buenos Aires, Argentina, was a very fun place to live for a child. It had many rooms and the yard was very large with lots of trees and space to play. We also had chickens in a coop. Gina and I divided everything up between us, certain areas belonged to each of us exclusively. I could draw a plan of the house and yard today, so deeply is it engraved in my memory. Whenever anyone asks about my childhood it is the four years spent there that come to mind.
Greta played a very important part in our lives. She was a member girl of German ancestry. She helped at the Mission Home and most of the time Gina and I shared a room with her. She was an avid movie goer and usually took me with her on Saturday afternoons. Movies in South America lasted severalhours, with three or four features playing each time. You really got your money's worth! When Greta caught the mumps from Gina and me she had a very hard time. She was swollen all around from one ear to the other. She would moan, "Better I die" over and over again. Greta gave me my tough head. She would brush my hair and pull so hard that I have never had a tender head; she cured me.
Gina and I loved to go through the wastepaper baskets from the office. We saved all sorts of trash. The missionaries started to tear up their letters when they realized we went through the trash and saved them. We would go in and pay tithing whenever we could get Dad to give us a few cents. He finally made us save up because we were having the missionaries write so many receipts. We loved to answer the phone; the number was Floresta 4514.
There were two little girls living next to our home; Licia and Elsa. They were roughly our ages and we played with them all the time. Their parents wanted them to learn English but they never did; we learned Spanish instead. Their manner of living was different from ours. They had a bath in the late afternoon and then were dressed in clean dresses for the afternoon tea. They put those same dresses on in the morning until the afternoon bath and then new ones were put on. Gina and I wore our dresses all day, had our bath before going to bed, and put on clean dresses in the morning. Elsa was the oldest and whenever we played any game she always got to play the youngest, the good girl, and the two littlest girls, Gina and Licia, were always the mean older sisters. I never got to be the youngest, though I wanted to very badly. After learning Spanish, Gina and I always played in that language, never in English. It took a while for our mother to learn Spanish and she worried when she couldn’t understand us. She would ask Greta "Are they saying nice things, using good language?" She worried until she finally learned Spanish.
In the winter time, Gina and I played in the dining room. The dining room and the kitchen were the only heated rooms in the whole house. You could turn a heater on in the bathroom when you took a bath. In the summer, Mom let us play in the living room and we always had it torn up, making play houses. I don't know how she let us make messes in there. Gina was always my best pal; then and later.
Whenever we went any place it was always by bus. Greta was the one who took us to church, which was usually to the chapel at Liniers. I can remember the old building, or house, that we met in before the chapel was finished. Shortly after our arrival in Argentina, Liniers, the first chapel built in that country, had its dedication. It seemed like a huge building to me. On visiting it in later years, I was so surprised to see it wasn't really very large at all. It was in this chapel that I was baptized, in the font under the stand.
June in Argentina is a very cold month. It was on my 8th birthday, June 15, that I was baptized. I changed in a little room, then had to go across an open, outdoor space to the chapel where the baptismal font was. I then had to go out into the cold to change out of my wet clothes. I remember the cold very well! My father baptized me in English, explaining to the people that I might not understand it all in Spanish; but I could have.
I went to school at the American Grammar and High School. The building was several stories high and the younger children had their playground on the roof. We even had teeter-totters up there.
I had problems in school. I had had one year of school in the U.S. and so was put into second grade and just couldn't do the work. I remember getting a "C" on a spelling test and I was so happy because I usually got "F's". I was put back to first grade and was in my own little world, ahead of every one else. There were four reading groups: low, medium, advanced, and me in my own group, very advanced. I did too well in first, so they would try me in second again and down I would go, to the bottom again. It seemed I did this all year, and I know it happened at least three times. Just look at my report card!
The next year I repeated second grade with no problem whatsoever and the next year I was only in the third grade a short while before being advanced to the fourth grade. This was my school experience in English and it all took place in the afternoons. Mornings were all in Spanish and followed the regular Argentine curriculum. We used pen and ink starting right in first grade. The names of the grades there were different: the first year was called lower or inferior first, the second year was higher or superior first then the third year was called second, etc.
We were not allowed to speak English in the morning or to speak Spanish in the afternoon.
One year the English curriculum was completed about a week or two before the Spanish one so we would have class in the morning in Spanish and just read or play games in the afternoon. Reading was my favorite pastime and I would to the school library and check out books. I would finish them and return them and check out more. Finally they told me I could not return books the same day; I had to wait at least one day before returning them. It was here that I discovered the books written about twins from all different countries and ages. They were my favorites for a while, especially the one about the Cave Twins. Another favorite type of reading was the bound volumes of The Children's Friend. The Mission Home had them and I certainly enjoyed them, especially the continued stories. They were no problem to read as I had the whole year bound into one book. My favorite was about an Indian youth in the story "The Bear Dance Trail."
I took piano lessons from the wife of the principal, Mrs. Maddock. I really didn't learn very much from her; she played quite well but wasn't much of a teacher. For a while, I ate at her table in the school dining room at lunch time. I was the only child at that table. There were other teachers and whatever visitors happened to be present. My mother tells me this was quite a trying experience for me. It gave me health problems. My Mom took me to the doctor and when he learned I was eating at the grownup table he told her to not allow that, that he even had trouble eating there. So I took my lunch and ate at a table with other children. That was much better!
I wasn’t very good at practicing the piano. I spent much of my 30 minutes running may nails along the carvings on the front of the piano, even adding a little carving. I always told my Mom I wouldn’t regret my not practicing but have had to eat my words many times since.
During recess, we played crack-the-whip and I was always the caboose. One year I had bandages on my knees constantly; at least that is how I remember it. I had to go to the office frequently to get bandaged.
Every year the American colony had a big picnic. It was held at Colegio Ward, part of the school organization, in the outlying town of Ramos Mejia. They didn't teach classes in English at that school, only Spanish. There were huge open lawns or fields where races and games were held. Hot dogs were served and I think I got sick after every celebration. A group of missionaries organized a little band, "Hill Billy Band" and they played for every outing.
Buenos Aires is very flat and when it rained the water just piled up in the streets. The sidewalks would be covered with water. In warm weather, Mom would let Gina and me wade in the water. None of the other children in the neighborhood did, maybe it wasn't "ladylike".
Christmas came during the hot part of the year. My folks always held a party for all the missionaries in the district on Christmas Eve. Gina and I would get to stay up for part of it; it was a lot of fun. The neighbors had a type of jasmine bush that grew close to our living room windows, and as it was summer and hot, our windows were open. I can remember smelling the fragrance of those flowers. Years later I saw those same flowers growing in Phoenix, Star Jasmin I think they are called, and they smelled like Christmas in Argentina! Christmas trees were made of chicken feathers dyed green; we never had real trees with that lovely pine fragrance.
I was always the first one up on Christmas morning. Gina wanted to be but I always awoke first, would look at everything, then I would wake her up. She never woke before me, though she tried to every year. Our first Christmas there I received a doll with a blonde wig. Gina carried her around by the hair that first day and all the hair came off. She was only four years old. I can remember being very unhappy about it. I was still seven. Another year we received very lovely dolls. I named mine Electa, after the girlfriend of one of the missionaries; she didn't wait for him. In later life I met the real Electa in Albuquerque, N.M.
My brother Fred was born March 31, 1940. We were so excited to have a baby brother. When he got to be a toddler Gina and I would dress him up in Gina's clothes and put a bonnet on him and he would be our baby. He was a cute, blond little boy. I had to sing lullabys to him each night when he went to bed until he fell asleep.
Carnival was the fun time of year; it usually came in March. It officially lasted three days but the dances and fun began long before the official days. The rama, or branch, held a big costume dance and Gina and I got to go; all dressed up, of course. We had a lot of fun running around the dance floor and generally getting in everyone's way. One year I was dressed in my mother's kimono and another year my mother made me an Arabian dancing girl's costume. I still think it is the nicest costume I've ever had.
One year, Mom let me wear her brooch and cautioned me not to lose it. Well of course I did. I remember praying that I would find it, then shuffling my feet through the thick confetti on the floor trying to locate it. I did, but when I stepped on it I broke the fastener. I was sorry I hadn't prayed that I would find it whole!
Our parents were very busy but we had one camping trip while in Argentina. We went to Potrerillos and stayed about a week. My Dad couldn't be with us the whole time so he had one of the Elders come with us, Elder Brown. The mission had finally received a car from the States.
We camped by a lovely stream. This stream emptied into a swiftly flowing river a short distance from our camp. We were not allowed near this river, but could play beside the stream all we wanted. There were lots of rushes growing alongside it and a family of little ducks swam in and out of them. Every day it seemed there was one less little duck; we wondered if they were getting caught in the swift river water.
Fred was almost two years old and wearing training pants. They had been wet, and the sand was sticking to them so Mom asked me to rinse them out in the stream. I waded out to the middle of the stream and started dunking them when the water tore them out of my grasp. I ran over the pebbles and sharp rocks in the water until I caught them I felt very proud of myself so I waved them above my head to show Mom that I had retrieved them then dropped them again! I knew what I would get if I didn't bring those pants back so I bounded after them again. I was afraid they would go on down into the river before I could reach them but was lucky and caught them. This time I indulged in no heroics, just brought them back safely to shore.
Our last night there it rained. We had just one little tent and one cot. Dad had taken the car for his visit to one of the branches. Mom, expecting Nancy very shortly, slept in the cot with Freddy and Gina. I don't know how they fit. Elder Brown and I shared a bed on the ground. I can remember feeling very embarrassed that night; I was all of ten, and very unhappy at the circumstance but there just was no room on that cot or any where else. Poor fellow; he was probably unhappy about it all too, but I didn't think of it at the time.
Nancy was born March 23, 1942; another baby for us to play with. She was a little brunette. Her name was Nancy Lou but Fred called her "Lulu" and she was known by this name until she was about five or six.

Trip to Argentina, 1938

My parents were called to preside over the Argentine Mission and we left for South America the summer of 1938; I was seven and Gina three and one/half. My father was 30 and my mother 29 years old. My Dad had filled his mission in Argentina 1927 to 1929 and now would be returning to the land and people he had learned to love. Then it was called the South American Mission.
I remember saying goodby to my grandmother Smith at my Uncle Don's home in Phoenix. I have a picture of her standing and smiling at us taken at that time; she had a lovely smile. She knew she had cancer and would never see us again but was very brave. She told me that when I looked at the picture I would know she was smiling at me.
I don't remember too much of our trip to New York City, but we took the train. In New York, we went to the Radio City Theater and saw the Rockettes dance and roll around on large balls. One couldn't control her's and she kept rolling over to the curtains and grabbing them. We never could figure out if it was part of the show or whether she really was having problems. Dad went to a baseball game while there and saw the Yankees play. He loved baseball and the Yankees.
We didn't know anyone in New York, but when the ship sailed we all waved to the people on the dock. The ship was a lovely place and everyone was nice to Gina and me. The beauty operator told us stories and there was a group of nuns traveling on the ship; they told us stories too. We enjoyed the movies that were shown every other night on deck. Dances were held the alternate nights but Gina and I couldn't stay up for them. There was a swimming pool and treats were served in the afternoon; we had a lot of fun.
Gina and I had a room to ourselves next to our parents. My mother didn’t get much sleep worrying about us. There was no connecting door between her room and ours and she would lock our door then get up and open it in case we needed to get out and she worried then that someone could get in. She and my Dad finally worked it out that he would watch us during the day so she could get some sleep.
A stowaway was found on board and he was locked up in a little cell at the end of the deck. He fashioned a little purse out of string and gave it to Gina. We could peek in and see him in his cell.
I remember our visit to Rio de Janeiro and the trip by cable car to the top of Sugar Loaf Mountain; also the beaches and the wavy black and white tiles in the sidewalks. While walking along a trail on Sugar Loaf, Dad stuck a twig into the side of the hill and told us it would be a tree when next we visited there. I've never been back along the trail to check.
It was very cold when we landed in Buenos Aires, in August, the dead of winter. Dad had taught me the sentence " Como se llama esto?" It means "What is this called, or what is the name of this?" I asked it about an iron and received the reply "plancha". My first Spanish word.
President and Sister Young greeted us warmly and their son Carlitos, about twelve or so, gave me a big pile of "Paturuzu" comics to read. Paturuzu was an Indian. Greta, the German live-in girl, gave Gina and me warm milk sweetened with honey to warm us up. The Youngs returned to the States after a few days.

Trip to Venezuela, 1943

At long last the time came to join our Dad who was now working in Venezuela as Business Manager for the U.S. Office of Inter American Affairs. I was eleven at this time. We got our clothes ready and bought some new ones. Byron, my uncle who was the Pennys manager, had encouraged Mom to buy our shoes that Saturday, not wait until Monday, as she had planned. She followed his advice and was very glad because on Monday rationing began and she would not have been able to purchase all she wanted.
We boarded the train and headed for Miami, Florida. It seemed like we changed trains a lot; sometimes in the middle of the night. We ate in the train dining room. One time Mom saw "baby soup" listed on the menu. She thought it would be some good soup and ordered it for me. I was so embarrassed when the waiter brought me a jar of baby food! I made up for it by ordering something quite grown up to eat. We waited eight hours in the station in New Orleans. It was a filthy, dirty place and we were filthy and dirty by the time we left there. Mom had tried to keep Nancy clean but, after so many hours, finally had to let her down on the floor and she got so dirty. It was the first time I had seen separate drinking fountains and restrooms for whites and blacks. It gave one a funny feeling.
We arrived in Miami and I thought it a beautiful place. We stayed in a fancy hotel, the Columbus, but we didn't stay long. I believe it was the Vice President of the U.S. and his party that came and the guests on our floor had to leave. We found a little hotel or rooming house close by which was much cheaper. We had not planned on staying very long in Miami but our priority (government permit to travel) had not come so we couldn't leave.
Mom got very sick and had to stay in bed. Mom kept Nancy, age one and one-half with her while I took Gina, age eight, and Freddy, age three, to a restaurant for each meal, three times a day. I was eleven at the time. I would bring back food for her on a tray; she had baby food in the room for Nancy to eat. I would also walk to the airline office each day to inquire if our priority had come. We were there about one week. Mom got well and our priority finally came. It had been sent in the wrong name, just plain "Corraine", with no surname or anything.
Another thing we did while waiting in Miami was go on walks. Gina, Fred, and I would go up and down the sidewalks looking at the store windows. When Mom got well she took just me to a drug store and bought me a root beer float; my first one. It was quite a treat.
When we left Miami we flew in a seaplane, stopping a short time in Jamaica, where the passengers were greeted with rum or lemonade. I gathered beautiful sea shells along the beach. That night we landed in Barranquilla, Colombia. The hotel was a grandiose thing. It had a beautiful swimming pool, surrounded with greenery, set in the middle of the buildings. It looked like something out of a Hollywood movie set. I wanted to go swimming but we didn't have any suits with us.
The next day we flew on to Venezuela, landing at La Guaira, the airport for Caracas. Dad was not there to meet us! I think Mom was about ready to fly back, but she didn't have any money left. The people at the airport told us Dad had been there earlier but, since we hadn't arrived while he was there, he didn't think we would be coming in that day. He had met the planes from Miami, not knowing we had had to go to Colombia first. Since it was still war time, Mom wasn't permitted to cable any vital information so she couldn't let him know our arrival time. We took a taxi to his hotel in Caracas and made ourselves at home in his room. He arrived a short while later and, seeing children in his room, thought he had the wrong room until he recognized us all. We had a happy reunion.

World War II Police Raid in Argentina

It was now during World War II and an interesting thing happened. It was mission conference time and missionaries had come in from all over the country, carrying briefcases. Someone in the neighborhood called the police stating that our house was a Nazi headquarters and all those blond fellows, Nazi agents. I’m afraid I slept through all of it but have been told all about it. In fact, my mother was very grateful I slept though it and also Greta. If she had awakened suddenly, she might have started speaking German and that would not have been very good.
My parents had gone to bed and were awakened by someone ringing the doorbell, it was 1:30 a.m! As my Dad was getting up there was a man at the window with a gun. At first, Dad thought it was robbers, then realized it was the police. An Elder called him from the front door of the house where the police were holding a gun on him. They wanted him to unlock the door but wouldn’t let him get the key which has hanging on the wall in the hallway.
When Dad unlocked the door, six policemen and an inspector came in and held guns on everyone, with one in my Dad’s back. Dad was ordered to lead them on a search of the house. In the basement they asked to see the printing press but all we had was a small mimeograph machine. Mom was so nervous she couldn’t find her robe that was on the foot of her bed. She worried the whole Dad was with the police.
Dad was then ordered upstairs, where most of the missionaries were sleeping. The police told them to stop playing possum. One of the policemen noticed American passports lying on the table and asked Dad about them, the first time they let him talk. He explained they were all North Americans and missionaries. When the police realized just who they were they became very apologetic. There had been six police inside and others outside at every window.
The inspector became rather worried as they had come without a search warrant. He asked Dad if he would sign a paper absolving him of the responsibility of coming without the warrant that he would probably lose his job if a complaint had been made to the American Embassy. Dad thought it better to sign. The fellow was too nervous to type the statement so Dad typed and then signed it.
The inspector became a friend and when, due to the war, meetings were only to be held in Spanish, he arranged for them to hold meetings in English with the new American missionaries.