Florence Decker Corry passed away in 1954, leaving behind six children, aged 2 to 18. For the younger children who have only vague memories of their mother, and for the grandchildren who know her only by legend, this is Florence's story.

Wednesday, April 30, 2014

Raising a Family in the Early 1950s

Supporting Elwood in His New Calling

On  April 16, 1950, Elwood was sustained as President of the Cedar Stake, along with his counselors Kumen L. Gardner and Dr. P.K. Edmunds. He succeeded President David Sargent, a family friend who had served as Stake President for the previous 10 years.

The Corry family was perhaps less than excited about the call. Kris reports that Elwood felt he lacked sufficient time to do the job effectively, and the children hated the thought of being labeled “the Stake President’s goody, goody kids” (not the most useful social calling card, apparently). Florence, in particular, was disappointed that she and Elwood would have to give up a square dancing group they had recently joined, as the dancing conflicted with presidency meetings. The call meant that Elwood would have to give up some of his personal activities, as well. In July 1950, for instance, the Iron County Record reported that Elwood had resigned a position on the Chamber of Commerce due to increased church responsibilities. Elwood had been one of the original directors of the Junior Chamber of Commerce when it formed in 1936, and he had been elected to a two-year term on the board of directors of the Chamber in January of 1949.

Because of his calling, Elwood typically made the trip to Salt Lake City every six months to attend the LDS General Conference. Florence general accompanied him, and they would often take one of the children. The children fondly remember that Florence would always bring home a special toy or gift for those left at home, taking care to make each gift meaningful.

Judy remembers going on a Conference trip with her parents and riding the elevators up and down in Hotel Temple Square.  For Steve, a talk on standards by one of the general authorities must have proven a little distressing. Probably 9 or 10 years old at the time, Steve was confused by some of the terminology. As they left the tabernacle, he asked his mother what “pet” meant. She explained the term. He later commented, “I don’t remember the exact wording, but I do remember her following up after talking about the subject and saying we mustn’t be too strict. Even though that is wrong you do have to love a person before you can marry them. Not meaning anything immoral but certainly meaning there needed to be some sort of affection shown before you become married….sometimes the counsel was a little stronger than it needed to be for certain people who had a real conscience.” Florence seemed to have a gift for keeping life in perspective, even when it came to the gospel.

Cedar 8th Ward Chapel in 1927
In addition to the Conference trips, the Corry family often hosted LDS General Authorities in their home. In the early days of Elwood’s tenure as Stake President, Florence would embark on a big cleaning spree before a General Authority came. Over time, she recognized that the fuss made the visits miserable for everyone. They began to simply vacuum and dust, and the family enjoyed their time with the visitors much more.

Elder Ezra Taft Benson visited for a quarterly stake conference in January 1951, later sending a thank you note for “your kindness in permitting me to visit in your home and have breakfast with you and your lovely family Sunday morning.” Also that January, Elder Matthew Cowley of the Quorum of the Twelve arrived in town for the centennial celebration in Parowan, staying over for Sunday services. According to Kris, Florence particularly liked Elder Cowley because he was not super pious. He told Florence that every time he would start to stray, the Church would come with another call to serve. Florence seemed to like the fact that Elder Cowley would stray at times.

Florence's Own Callings

Cedar 8th and 2nd Ward Chapel 2012
In addition to supporting Elwood in his challenging calling, Florence continued to serve with the children and youth in the ward. According to the Cedar 8th Ward history, she was called as Primary president of what was then the College Ward in March 1951, turning the reins over to her friend Hilda Parry in November of that year. Carol Ann Parry Jones remembers Florence reading “The Great Stone Face” at a summer Primary party on the lawn and recalls that she was a wonderful reader.

In addition to Primary, Florence earned love and respect as a leader of the Junior Gleaners, the young women aged 16 to 18 (known now as Laurels). In September 1952, Florence returned to her home-town of Parowan to give a talk on Chastity at a stake-wide meeting for the Junior Gleaners and their mothers. She would give a similar talk to the women students at CSU not long before she died.

In July of 1953 the Iron County Record reported that Florence was the featured speaker at the Sunday
evening service of a stake MIA girls’ weekend up at Pine Valley Campground. The next month, at the closing session of the Cedar Stake quarterly stake conference, she received the Honorary Golden Gleaner aware for her work with the youth. In the 1950s, the Junior Gleaners graduated on to full-fledged Gleaners at the age of 18 (or at high school graduation) and remained in the program throughout their young adulthood. Women could earn the Silver Gleaner and then the Golden Gleaner awards by completing a series of requirements designed to build stellar leaders of youth. Normally, one had to complete the requirements by age 25, but in recognition of Florence’s constant work with the youth, she was given the Honorary Golden Gleaner award. Though Elwood knew about the award ahead of time, it was a surprise to Florence. The newspaper report of the occasion lists this as the “highest honorary award that can be bestowed by the LDS Church on those who participate in the development of youth activities” and quotes Elwood as saying that these were the first awards of this kind to be awarded within the stake. (Giles Bolander received the M Men award at the same time.)

Florence certainly exemplified the type of leadership that the Gleaner program hoped to teach. After her death, Carol Ann Parry (one of Florence’s Junior Gleaners) wrote a composition about Florence that she entitled “My Ideal.” Carol Ann wrote:

“Even though she is dead now, Mrs. Elwood Corry will always be with me as the kind of woman I want to be, as my lifetime ideal…A job she did particularly well was teaching our mutual class. Each Monday night session was so enlightening and inspirational that life always seemed brighter, fuller, and more worthwhile after leaving her. Questions troubling me were always answered clearly and with plenty of references. She knew scripture as well as a missionary in the field. If a question came up she did not know, she would go home and study, then call me with the answer. We were not just students in her class, but friends in whom she was personally interested in helping with any problems we might have.”

Finding Joy in Friendships

Although church service always figured prominently in the lives of the Corry family, Florence and Elwood maintained an active social life throughout their marriage. For years they attended the “Sunday Evening Study Group” that began before Elwood went to the war and continued for some 10 years. Various couples took turns hosting meetings once every month or two. Members of the group included friends such as Vernee and Virgie Frame (Vern was bishop of College Ward from 1949-57), Rulon and Esther Knell, Paul and Ella Edmunds (Dr. Edmunds was the Corry family physician and Elwood’s counselor in the stake presidency), and Ace Terry (a fishing buddy of Elwood’s).

Elwood’s patriarchal blessing, given years later, reminded him that the Lord had blessed him considerably through the years with friends that the Lord had sent in times of need. These study group friends and so many others were evidence of the fulfillment of that blessing. Neighborhood friends figured prominently in the lives of the family, as well. Among those were Hilda and Ed Parry, who lived down the street. Hilda (originally Hilda Harwood) was part of Florence’s gang of friends from Parowan days, and the families had several children of similar ages. Florence stayed close to other Parowan friends, as well, including Lillian Adams Grimshaw and her mother, Barbara Adams. Jenny and Abner Parry had rented the basement of their home to Florence and Elwood back in 1937 when they moved into town, and the Parrys, too, remained good friends through the years.

While Florence continued giving readings and talks for various clubs during this period, a mainstay in her social life was the long-standing En Avant club that she had helped found back in 1940. The group continued to meet once or twice a month to discuss books, celebrating with an annual tea every summer and a Christmas party each December. The summer of 1950, the annual tea numbered 60 people, including club members and their guests. In 1952, they marked the club’s 12th anniversary, and in January 1953 Florence was elected vice president of the group.

Finding Joy in Extended Family Ties

During the early 1950s both the Decker and Corry families maintained a significant presence in Cedar City and Parowan. Though Elwood’s father had died, his mother lived next door, and his sister Ruth eventually joined Florence in the En Avant club. In fact, in 1950 Elwood had the opportunity to perform the marriage of Ruth to Scott Urie in the Corry family home. The other Corry siblings flashed in and out of the Cedar City scene. Virginia and Bill Palmer moved from Salt Lake City to Washington, D.C. during this time, while Elma and Inez and their families remained in the Salt Lake area. Beth enjoyed working at the national parks and also served a mission to the Great Lakes area from 1953-55. The brothers, Mel and Lloyd, were just beginning their adult lives, and Kris remembers them coming home to visit from time to time. Mel spent the early 1950s in New Orleans at Tulane University, studying for his medical degree, while Lloyd served a mission to New England and then went to war in Korea.

Decker Siblings around 1951
A pair of photos shows Florence posing for the camera with her siblings at some point around 1951. Presumably, the photographer was Fae’s husband, Cleo, and the photo was taken on the steps of the Dix home on 100 East in Cedar. Al is in his dress uniform, and Margret is wearing a corsage, so apparently the siblings had gathered to celebrate an event in their family—perhaps the baptism of their oldest girls or Al’s assignment to MAAG in Formosa (now Taiwan) in the spring of 1951. Al served on General MacArthur’s staff in Japan for some time before being sent to Formosa to serve under Major General William Chase, the MAAG Chief. He came home to visit periodically, and the visits were a cause for celebration. The formal picture of the siblings shows a dignified group, somewhat reserved as they wait for the click of the camera, but Cleo also snapped a second photo of the group. Unaware of the camera’s eye, the three sisters chat, with Blanche a little off to the side and Florence seemingly mid-story. Elwood, Woodrow and Alpine stand back with their hands in their pockets, simply observing the scene, while Margret and Vera listen in. They seem comfortable together.

Florence remained close with her half-siblings, as well. Gertrude’s daughter Trudy spent the 1951-52 school
Decker Siblings Around 1951 - The Outtake
year at BAC in Cedar City, living in the dorms. She used to walk down to the Corrys regularly to visit with Florence and often babysat the younger children as one of her college jobs. This was particularly helpful to Florence that year. With the birth of Elizabeth (Liz) in February 1952, the six children ranged from infant Liz to 15-year old Kristine. Trudy remembers Florence as always optimistic and happy, a wonderful mother to her children.

Family Life

Steve Corry once said of his mother, “She was always very personal with her children and especially effective one-on-one. She made you feel that you were her most important child and she loved you more than anyone else. As I got older I realized all my brothers and sisters felt the same way.”

Steve recalls coming home from school each day, knowing that his mother would always be downstairs ironing on her Ironrite. Florence suffered from varicose veins, so standing for long periods of time proved quite painful. The Ironrite--an ironing machine operated from a sitting position with knee pedals and hand controls—offered a perfect solution for the leg pain, as well as an ideal spot for after-school talks with each of her children. She listened with love and concern, inspiring their confidence. Her children felt comfortable talking with their mother about anything, knowing that she would not yell or lose her temper.

Florence with Baby Liz 1952
“I remember one evening, talking with her,” says Steve. “It was she and I, and somehow she got the idea that I had done something wrong that week. I had, in fact, done something wrong. It wouldn’t have been a gross sin, but certainly one that I shouldn’t have been involved with, and I was committed never to tell anyone what I had done. Well, she began to talk to me. I don’t remember the conversation. I don’t remember how she did it. But I remember that before that conversation was through, I had confessed to everything I had done.”

Making the Holidays Shine

Florence was particularly good at making the most of holidays and special events. In the autumn of Steve’s fourth grade year, for instance, she offered to help him host a Halloween party for some of his friends. She organized a spook alley, bobbing for apples and all of the usual Halloween fare. Steve and his friends looked back on that party for years as one of the most fun they had attended.

The Graduation Dress
Florence would bake coins in the kids’ birthday cakes, as well. And when Kristine graduated from high school in 1953, her mother made Kris her dream dress for graduation. “Mother saw the dress in a deodorant ad in a magazine and asked me what I thought,” recalls Kris. “It’s a white, very sheer material. No kidding, my mother had to make a strapless slip to wear under it. I was a little surprised she would make something like that, but it didn’t seem to concern her.”

Of all of the holidays, it is perhaps Christmas that made the biggest impression on the Corry children. Kristine once wrote about Florence’s Christmas Eve traditions:

“Mother decided long ago that Christmas Day should be enjoyable and relaxing for her as well as the rest of us. So the traditional Christmas dinner with all its time-consuming work went out, to be replaced by what we simply called ‘Christmas Eve.’ Preparations actually began the day after Thanksgiving when the fruitcakes were baked and set in the basement to age. The week before Christmas, Dad made root beer and we kids capped the bottles. Candy was made somewhere along the way, and on the afternoon of Christmas Eve the ham went in the oven. After the traditional service at the church, we came back to the house along with relatives and one or two other families whom the folks always invited. After the meal came the impromptu program. I managed a piano solo. There would be poems, songs, maybe a story or two, and my slightly wacky aunt and uncle would always come up with something that would leave our sides aching from laughter. We ended with Christmas carols, and I was sure each year as I went to bed that it had been absolutely the best Christmas Eve ever.”

Christmas 1953
Steve remembers, too, the more intimate moments of Christmas. The family would decorate the tree together, with big bulbs at the bottom of the tree and little bulbs higher up, leading to the angel that always crowned the top of the tree. Florence made a big deal of placing the angel on the tree. Then, one evening before Christmas, the kids would gather around while Florence read the story “Why the Chimes Rang, ” the tale of Pedro and his little brother, who go to the grand city to pay tribute to the Christ child. “I’m certain that Mom selected that particular story because of the message,” said Steve, “the message…to always be willing to help one who was in need and give them the benefit of the doubt.”

Balancing Fun and Discipline

Judy remembers her mother’s love of fun. Florence would pull pranks on her children, short-sheeting their beds or putting 7Up in their glasses instead of water. On one occasion, Florence and Elwood had both gone to meetings, leaving the kids home to take care of themselves. Judy and Steve had gone downstairs to the basement to play ping pong. The basement had an outside entrance that always seemed just a little bit frightening, but having a companion and a competitive game proved a useful distraction. Judy recalls this particular evening:

“Steve and I had become quite engrossed in our game and were quite unaware of the fact that someone was watching us through the window of the door. It wasn’t until we heard a knock at the door that we saw a person staring at us. We both made a dive under the table tennis table, our whole bodies trembling with fear. Mom came in, chuckling that she had gotten the best of us. She didn’t realize until she got inside just how frightened we were.”

Judy and Steve were not always the best of friends, however, and that was one of the few things that managed to frustrate their mother. Florence once threatened to get boxing gloves for the two squabbling siblings and make them duke it out. She was a perfectionist, as well, always striving to do her very best and expecting the same out of her children. She would shut herself in her bedroom to prepare for a talk or a book review, and the kids learned not to disturb her while she practiced.

They also learned not to procrastinate their own preparation or do a sloppy job on an assignment. One day, for instance, it was Judy’s turn to mop and wax the floor. She finished the job in a hurry, anxious to move on to more important concerns. Then she waited impatiently while Florence administered her nylon stocking test, walking across the floor in her stocking feet so that she could feel every particle of dirt and grime. The floor failed her test, and she instructed Judy to try again, turning a deaf ear to Judy’s protestations about the unfairness of the assignment.

The younger children have few memories of their mother, but Bob does remember how she handled a couple of his early misdeeds. Once, when he was just five or six, Bob took a piece of candy without asking permission. Later, his mother asked if he had taken the candy. “No,” he said, very softly.

“What did you say?”

“Yes, I did,” came the reply (more clearly this time).

Instead of scolding her young son for taking the candy, Florence praised him for telling the truth. Another time, however, Bob fared less well. “She spanked me pretty good, and you could see the imprint of her hand on my bottom. I was so proud of that and showed it to Steve and Jeff. Unfortunately, it only lasted a minute or two, and then it was gone.”

Building Exemplary Men and Women, One Day at a Time

Steve, Judy, Bob, Liz and Florence
While Florence expected her children to always give their best effort, she supported and encouraged them every step of the way. She always encouraged them to develop their talents and invariably stood by to cheer them on. As Judy says, “She did not discourage us by saying, ‘It won’t work.’ Instead, we were encouraged to try it. If it didn’t work, Mom helped us find something else that would fill our need.”

It was also Florence who worked with the children when they did their chores, often driving Steve down to the farm to milk the cows or helping him to hitch up the Shetland pony so that he could make his own way.  On one occasion, Steve had been assigned to sing in a 4th grade chorus. Around Christmas time, the chorus gave an afternoon concert downtown. Steve was anxious about arriving late for the concert and began to panic that he would not get the cows milked on time. Seeing his concern, Florence came into the milking shed and helped her son milk the cows. “I want you to know that I’m breaking my word by doing this for you,” she told Steve. “I told your father when I married him that I would never milk another cow.” Her family learned through her example the importance of setting aside trivial cares in favor of more important priorities.

The kids also learned the importance of independence and the confidence that comes from making one’s own way and taking reasonable chances. Kristine talks about her own adventures with piano. After taking private lessons for years, she began to lapse in her practicing, so Florence and Elwood ended the lessons. When an exciting new piano teacher, Mrs. Johnson, moved to town a couple of years later, Kristine begged to take lessons again. Perhaps in an effort to help her rather shy daughter determine just how serious she was about lessons, Florence told Kris she could take lessons, but she had to make the arrangements. She did, and the piano became a lifelong passion.

While Kristine immersed herself in music, Steve regaled his friends Jeff Marchant and Roger Lewis with stories about the family farm. Roger hatched the brilliant idea for the three of them to take a hike out to the farm, a distance of about seven miles. The boys were quite young, probably only 9 or so, but Steve knew the way and offered to act as guide. The other boys’ mothers initially said “no” to the idea, but when Florence gave enthusiastic permission, they relented. The boys took the long way out to the farm (of course) and plopped, exhausted, on the bank of the pond when they arrived. None of them wanted to get up and hike back, but eventually they left the pond and started the long trudge home, saved by the welcome site of Aunt Ruth, who had driven out to fetch Steve for the evening milking.

“Mom was always for us having experiences,” said Steve. “She realized that life had risks and we only learn by taking some of those risks and by doing.” Not long after the hike, the boys’ Primary teacher asked each boy in the class to name to name someone outside their family who inspired him, who was “super” in his life. Naturally, both Roger and Jeff named Florence.

Florence and Elwood

Florence and her “Corry,” as she often called Elwood, were true partners. Together they raised six children, ran a business, served, studied, danced, wept, laughed, worked, planned and socialized. Kris remembers her parents as not particularly demonstrative, almost more like business partners, but they clearly loved each other.  Florence confided to Kris once that she occasionally tired of marriage, not that she tired of Elwood but that marriage itself sometimes felt more like a job. And yet, on one occasion Elwood had to spend a week in Salt Lake City on business, and Kris remembers her mother’s anticipation of Elwood’s return home. “It was really something to see Mother’s excitement as the day came for him to come home. The house had to be clean, there was a special meal cooked, and above all that light in her eyes when he got home.” While neither Florence nor Elwood were particularly sentimental or romantic, they set a lasting example for their children of a strong and healthy marriage.

For his part, Elwood admired his wife’s business sense and her ability to effectively balance the needs of a large family with her demanding callings and her work within the community. He particularly appreciated Florence’s sense of humor, a signature trait which she carried even through her final illness.

The World Around Them

While the Corrys lived quiet but meaningful Cedar City lives, the world spun around them. Princess Elizabeth became Queen of England, not long after the beginning of the Korean War and the introduction of color television. Edmund Hillary and Tenzing Norgay made their historic ascent of Mount Everest, Joseph Stalin died, and Nash cars were all the rage.

Closer to home, the United States government began testing nuclear bombs in Nevada. The American Social History Project reports that between 1951 and 1963, the government detonated 126 bombs at the Nevada testing site. Five of those bombs had a fallout pattern covering Cedar City. Isaac Nelson, a resident of Cedar City, describes taking his wife out to see the first explosion. It was dark, he says, just before daylight, "and we were chattering like chipmunks, so excited! Pretty soon, why, the whole sky just flared up in an orange-red flash, and it was so brilliant that you could easily see the trees ten miles across the valley, and if you had a newspaper you could have easily read it, it was so bright. . . ." Later, he says, town residents stood outside to watch the fallout clouds drifting up through Cedar. Isaac's wife died of brain cancer that developed shortly after one of those evenings spent watching the fallout cloud float by.

On May 19, 1953 the United States detonated a 32-kiloton atomic bomb (later nicknamed "Dirty Harry") at the site. With a blast three times the size of the Hiroshima bomb, Harry sent fallout drifting over a wide area, including Southern Utah.

Later that year, one evening in October1953, Elwood had a vivid dream. In the dream, a small woman in white appeared. She told Elwood she had come for someone and directed him to a gravestone with a date on it. Elwood immediately awakened, and with the dream fresh in his mind, he went into his study and wrote it down. He felt impressed that someone would die, and suspected perhaps the dream might be a foreshadowing of his own death. Filing the dream away in his memory, he celebrated the holidays with his family, enjoying the usual Christmas festivities and ushering in 1954, a year that would prove rather eventful for the Corrys.

1 comment:

  1. We have the Corry Ironrite here in the home. Its good to know some history on it.

    ReplyDelete