Memories of Life in Colusa as a Child
Fourth Daughter
The spirit of the valley never dies;
It is called the profound female.
The gateway of the profound female
Is called the root of Heaven and Earth.
Continually it seems to last,
Useful but never overworked
Dao v.6
Read by Mary Lou ( Tom ) Lee on December 26, 2023
I vaguely remember seeing Mother in the Kitchen which was dark with a baby on her back. He was wrapped in one of those long swaddling sheets. Did I remember or did Grace tell me that mother would chew our food before giving it to us, so we would be able to eat “solid” food.
My other memory was a painful one of mother locked in one of the bedrooms crying and yelling. I found out later that she was going to be sent to Napa Sanatarium and Papa and whoever was there were waiting for transportation.
I don’t know how Papa managed it but we all went to see Mother. I always got car sick so had to take a coffee can with me. I remember sitting in the rumble seat with the siblings jammed in and then finding the can all bent when I needed it! Guess I just vomited wherever! I also remember lying lengthwise on the window above the back seat-there just wasn’t room for all of us in the back seat.
To keep me from getting car sick I was given Alka Seltzer once- It tasted awful and didn’t work. Another time I didn’t eat a thing but that didn't work either. Dr. Leivers, my original ENT doctor, believes I was “Born” with motion sickness.
I remember Grandfather as a man with a stiff, upright posture. Other than saying “Daw seen, ah yeh” when he passed him in the mornings there wasn’t much conversation. Grandfather would always be sitting in his wicker chair in front of our little wood stove in the living room. Whenever I would sweep the backyard he would ALWAYS take the broom from me to show me how to sweep without raising all the dust !!!!. Inwardly I would mutter to myself because “if I hear it once I hear it a hundred times.”
I don’t know how old I was but once I woke from sleep to feel grandfather running his hand up and down my leg. I must have stirred but pretended to be asleep-hear him say killed a bedbug on my bed. It never happened again but i have never forgotten it.
My last memory of Grandfather was when we had to go to the City to attend his funeral. Grandfather didn’t have the usual white lining inside his casket. It was what seemed to-be leopard skin-very plush. The trip to the cemetery was, as usual, a miserable one for me and I remember saying I want to walk because the car was crawling so slowly and it was hot. I do remember it was the first time I had ever seen my father cry. It was strange because when grandfather lived with us they very rarely spoke to each other- just passed each other as if they were invisible.
Grandfathers concubine was dying at the Chinese Hospital in the City and we had to ride up the big white and creaky elevator to her room. There we had to kneel and say a prayer. I remember seeing pictures of her but not ever being in a room with her before so why did we have to pray and visit her hospital room? A ll I remember is the way they put a, I think, dime on her lips. Her lips were simian shaped. I Can still see that in my mind still.
I still have the blue flowered enamel spittoon we used for a potty pot.
Must have been Grace who waited for me to get out of Kindergarten. I was one of the teachers pet because she gave me a piggy back ride down the stairs all the time. The only unhappy time was when I spilled milk in my lap. We had graham crackers and milk everyday. I also remember the teacher closing the blinds while we lay on our individual mats for a short nap. She played Grieg.
We were poor but never as poor as the Bruggermans. I will never forget the look of embarrassment on Iola’s face when she opened her lunch of two slices of white bread with a green apple on top! We may have been poor but we had something in our sandwich ( Bologna). I remember how good it smelled during lunch but we rarely bought the soup. A nickel was a lot of money with so many of us.
I don’t know how old I was but I do remember Papa would carry me back to my bed when he came home- guess I slept with the older sisters until then. I loved having him carry me and being in his arms and smelling his not unpleasant “body”odor. Used to pretend I was too sleepy to walk to my own bed just to have him carry me!
We never, naturally, went on vacations during the summer time- we had fun playing “Battle” (kids call it War) with 3 or 4 decks of cards that went on forever for days on end. Our only means of air conditioning was a ceiling fan in the living room—now ceiling fans are in almost every house.
We played football on the streets when no cars came by and roller skated up and down the quiet streets-felt great until one of my shoes separated from the skate- we used to have skate keys to tighten up the shoes but in my case it seemed to loosen up quickly.
Mary was a fearless skater-she went like the wind! Mary was a toughie. Once Bill put boxing gloves on us and Mary “gave” it to me. I think I had a bloody nose and also cried as they had to quit. I can’t remember if any of the other sisters “boxed.”
Papa use to prepare beef stew on weekends which was a treat. On regular days we had a dish of salted fish, vegetables and a steamed meat dish plus rice for dinner. A special treat was when I went to the Comfort Brothers Meat Market to buy one pound of hot dogs. Papa Fried it and sliced all the hot dogs diagonally and put in one bowl.
I remember he made chocolate cupcakes from a Chinese-English cookbook recipe. He took care of us in his own quiet way. When I was older I realized what a difficulty life he must have had. A wife he loved but “Lost” at a young age, a father who, to me, favored his “adopted daughter” Florence by paying for her College education to Berkeley, having a “wife” in the City when papa’s mother was still in China.
Papa went blind when he was in his 30’s and I remember he had tunnel vision. I think if I were he I would have yelled and screamed my frustration at the kind of life he was handed, and all this in a strange, new country! How lonely he must have been , years later when we had all married and left the house Florence used to drive to Colusa, play the Chinese records, probably cooked Papa a good Chinese meal and had a good visit with him. I don’t know how long it happened but I was glad she did that.
The Old Chinese men were really good to us. I remember Jim Lock used to drive me to Williams to catch the train to Oakland where I got on the Ferry boat to the City. I never once thought of offering money for the gas! Shame on me.
Otty was a a good friend also. He and Papa ran the small restaurant that one of the Japanese had to leave when they were interned by the war, with very little notice. Otty did all the cooking while papa did the rest. We sisters did a little waitress work after school. Our customers were itinerants, laborers. The poor working class. They got a good meal for, I think 35 cents.
I also learned how to make change for the first time in my life. Never could master the knack of carrying a lot of dishes on my hands and arms but I only dropped the dishes once, I remember. We used to go to the “country” to a farm that Folk Bock used to work on-the Boggs sisters were the owners. We would walk over the old Colusa Bridge to their farm which was at least a good mile away. I went into the barn where we weighed ourselves on the farm scales after eating a lunch of fried pork chops.
Then Folk Bock would walk home with us. We always made a stop at “Fat Toms” which was run by two Greek brothers. The older brother was nice to us and always gave us a glass of strawberry drink , no charge but his grumpy brother never approved, I know. Folk Bock would buy us a package of cookies to bring home. Him Bock who cooked on a ranch would bring us a block of home churned butter and pies every time he came into town.
I can remember when we wanted to take a picture with them the men would always immediately stiffen up and look sober—had to tell them to relax and smile!
Years later when I was working for Dr. Tillotson, for some reason, I went with him to the Colusa Country Hospital. I saw Folk Bock and Moses, an African American who use to pass our house and whom we spoke with all the time.
As I grew older it never occurred to me to wonder where the men went and what happened to them. How lonely their lives after working hard on the farms. I regret I didn’t make any effort to see them as they aged—-the selfishness of youth. None of us ever voiced our inner feelings to each other, we kept it all inside,
I remember being worried every time papa went to Bing Kong Tong because once the place was raided for opium smoking. Papa went to jail but was released eventually because he wasn’t smoking just present in the house. I remember seeing the men smoking in the old shacks across the street. One never forgets the odor of opium. I never have or will.
These memories I have written are only a few. I have, we mostly seem to have kept our personal feelings to ourselves-the good and the bad. There was so much of Georges life I never knew until he wrote his memories several years ago.
2/9/2009
Authors Note:
The used books that came from the library and such laid in waiting in the boxes in the garage at her daughter, Dana and son-in-law Steves home’s for any of us to rummage through at the annual get togethers. The sweet smiles and caring demeanor. The girls, all six of them and my wonder at how Uncle Phil remained sane and Auntie Mary Lou kept order. The snapshots of a long life captured in a few hundred words is really the introduction only to the vast sea of a life full of story and experiences that moves in the order of time creating a caste of one life existence.
The gift here is Mary Lou’s voice today as of this writing at the start of 2024 in the coming Year of the Wood Dragon. It is auspicious, timeless and a necessary vocal touchstone to the origin story of the Hoy Ping (Kai Ping) Tom Clan.
Verse 6: The “spirit of the valley” is the profound female, never filled fully therefore lives life humbly in service toward others. Giving, birthing, supporting and nurturing her valley between the created chasms of life. This valley has infinite capacity and is a part of the “Mother of All Things.” This is the totality of the Feminine Divine in Dao.