MY MOTHER – IDA CECIL SHOWALTER

by Albert A Showalter Jr, April 20, 2000

What can a person say about a woman who lived with much adversity in her life, but lived a full life before dying at age 100.

My mom was born in Lanesville, Illinois and moved to the Grove City area very early in her life, I believe. I know that she attended grade school just west and north of Grove City. She was a very pretty young lady and I am sure popular. She was born in 1885 and was the daughter of  Milton and Anice Etter. She had one brother, Ernest Etter, who is buried in Grove City cemetery, just below the grave site of Mom and Dad.

It is my understanding that she lived on the farm, where she and my dad lived for 15 years, before her marriage to dad. They moved away for a year and then they moved to that farm and remained there until dad’s death in 1943. Mom and Dad were married on the 16^th day of February in 1905 at the residence of the bride. I think that Lyle was born in 1906 and their family was started. After that, every two years, Mom became pregnant and another son was born. Lyle, then Arthur, Milton, Forrest, and Dean. Five years later, Wanda made her appearance. Wanda was a very tiny baby and it was told that her head would fit in a teacup. Finally, ten years later, I came into the world. I guess that Grandma Etter was not very happy after the birth of three of the boys and did not act very happy when they would tell her that another child was on the way. I wonder just how she reacted when she heard of my impending arrival.

Mother was a very active member of the Grove City Methodist Church. She played the piano on occasion and taught in the Sunday School. Our social life in those days was very limited and church was a big part of it.

Her life was rough by today’s standards. She would rise in the morning about 4:00 a.m., prepare a very sustaining breakfast for her family. It would be on the table by the time they milking and chores were done. She would help in separating the milk. Separating was done by a machine that a person had to crank by hand and it separated the cream from the milk. She made a huge garden, raised many, many chickens, collected eggs, made lye soap, prepared meals on a cook stove, and still found time to quilt on occasion and to crochet a lot.

Monday was wash day and that was a real experience. Water had to be carried from the well (about 40 ft. from the house) into the house where it was heated in boilers on the old cook stove. It was then carried to the back porch to the old Maytag wringer washer. She would then shave small pieces of the lye soap into the hot water and the wash would begin. Before we had electricity a small gasoline engine powered the washer. When the wash was done, it would be run through the wringer into a tub of rinse water and then through the wringer again into another rinse water, through the wringer again and then on the line to dry.

In the spring, the heating stove would be taken down and put away, the pipe would be cleaned out and put away. Then, the wallpaper would have to be cleaned with wallpaper cleaner (this reminds me of play dough in consistency). There would be a lot of soot around the flue, but the whole room would have to be cleaned. The rugs would come up and hung on the clothesline and beaten with a carpet beater (these are still found in antique stores).

She would also take water to the field for my dad in the hot summer months. Also, the feather beds would have to be put out in the sun to fumigate and then be put away until winter.

It is difficult to imagine her cooking the meals on a hot old cook stove in 100-degree temperature with only the breeze going through the house for cooling. On Tuesdays she baked bread, enough for the entire week. I loved to come home from school on Tuesdays and get warm home made bread with homemade jelly on it. She baked cakes and pies on that old cook stove . . . and I remember them being delicious.

Electricity came to us in about 1941. That made life some easier for everyone, but especially Mom. She still had to cook on the cook stove, but we had an electric motor on the old Maytag and the landlords put in running water in the house. However, the conveniences helped, but she now had her hands full with dad’s sickness.

Mom did socialize in the community. Where she found the time, I don’t know. She would quilt, go to Home Bureau, school activities, and church. The life then reminds me a little of the way the Amish still live.

She was the loving, faithful wife to the end. At dad’s death . . . her life was to take a dramatic change. She had me to worry about, the sale of the farm equipment, the finding of a place to live in Taylorville, and how to finance all of these things. She had so little . . . but she seemed to be able to take it all in stride. I do not ever remember her complaining about her fate.

With Cecil’s (Lyle’s wife) guidance, she purchased the apartment house on 302-304 North Shumway and in December, we moved to town . . . from a large two story farmhouse to a small 4 room apartment. She really had to downsize and give up many possessions that were dear to her.

To subsidize her meager savings, she baby-sat for people and is still remembered by those children. She became the grandma for almost all of the young families that moved into the apartment next door. She sacrificed for my clothes and schooling.

I think that Colonel’s and Dean’s days in the service were a terrible worry to her and I am sure, that later when I had to go to Korea, that worry continued. However, her letters were full of news and she wrote almost every other day.

Mother always told me that she did not want me to stay at home with her, when I reached the age to leave. Never once did she say that she would be lonesome when I left. She wanted me to make a home and have a family. If she had been different I might have felt very guilty about leaving her alone.

When Lyle and Cecil moved to California mother made several trips to see them. She always went by train, taking her food, because the trip to the dining car was difficult since she had broken her hip. When she would return she would always say that this would probably be her last trip to California. When she became unable to take the train, Colonel and Ruth told her they would buy her a ticket to go, but she would have to fly. She had never been in a plane and they said that she prayed all the way to St. Louis. She did, however, become a seasoned flyer and made quite a few trips by plane.

She became active in the Davis Memorial Christian Church and was to almost the end of her life. She did discontinue going to church because her hearing was failing and she could not hear the sermon.

Mom lived the rest of her live in this small apartment on Shumway. On her 100^th birthday I said “mom, you have sure seen a lot of changes in your lifetime, haven’t you?” She said, “Yes, I remember when my father came over to our house to tell us that President Garfield had been shot.” From horse and buggy to jet airplanes and rocket ships . . . from an old farmhouse with no plumbing or electricity to her cozy little apartment . . . from food, preserved by canning, from her garden to the present supermarkets.

I am sure that I haven’t even touched the tip of this iceberg, because Ida Cecil Showalter was a strong, loving woman who had so many facets. Proud of her family and of her life, she inspired many people who knew and loved her. I am proud to have been the last child born to her and my dad and I always hope that I have made her proud to be my mom.

This page last edited: 12/16/2000 05:55 PM