the final third

Remembering Helen: - final third.

After Joe, things didn't really slow down much for Helen.  First of all, there was the health of her sister and mother.  Even before Joe died, they were not doing well and needed a lot of assistance.  Helen went down to North Carolina for a week each month to help out.  By this time Joe had bought a condo in Pinehurst.  His first love was Bermuda, and the family had many happy times visiting there, especially over new years.  Joe got involved with Bermuda with his golf foursome, Frank Eby and Dick Lichtenwalner.  They were both members of Mid-Ocean club and arranged for Joe to join as well.  But I suppose Pinehurst was more convenient and with Helen's mom and sister being so close, it just made more sense, so they joined Country Club of North Carolina bought a condo and started visiting more often.  In any event, Helen still had her hands full looking after people, as well as her various civic responsibilities.  I0 years before he died, Joe had been the leader of a group who had bought the Hotel Traylor, site of Helen's job interview those many years ago.  It had been re-sold just months before Joe's death to a local business man who wanted it to be a lynchpin in his house of cards real estate empire.  This, along with some real estate tax shelters which were hard to value made it very difficult to probate Joe's will.  Helen spent the next several years learning the ins and outs of trusts, orphans court, bank corporate trustees, corporate stock sale agreements and what not. Along with that, there was presbyterian homes, and about this time she became a member of the board of trustees of Lehigh Valley Hospital.  There was enough on her plate.  In a way, she was fortunate because in all the years Joe was traveling, running the house became pretty much Helen's area of expertise.  She had squads of folks to coordinate. The plumber, the roofer, the tree man, the window washer, the painter, the septic tank guy, the yard guy, the electrician, the stone mason, a housekeeper.  Nearly every day, certainly every week something had to be attended.  Helen kept track of everything, budgeted everything, made sure funds were available at all the right times.  She had done this for years so it was no great change after Joe was gone.  These people were all a big part of Helen's life, her extended family, no doubt.  Catherine Hefner was part of the family for years. Always Mrs. Hefner to us, she took care of most of the details in the house while Helen was away.  Her niece, and grand niece Suzann Veppert remain a part of the family.  In many ways Suzann was the daughter she never had.  Nick Paul had been working on projects at the house with his dad since we moved there in 1962. He still stops in to check up on her.  The Snyder brothers, Jerry Galina and family, Frank  Pfneisel from Valley Arborists, Tom Kratzer, many others were part of the team that kept the household going.  Helen valued them all.

Her large group of friends all chipped in to help keep her well occupied, as well as a few ghosts from her past.  I recall two of them showing up soon after Joe died.  Hack Wilson was a G-2 friend from the war who lived outside Philadelphia.  They had a couple dinners together.  Willie Hayward was an ex-olympic  sailor in the star class.  He currently lived in Vancouver, so logistics would have been a problem.  Helen did perk up noticeably when he called, however.  He was it town once, and it was interesting to see them together.  She had done much work at the church with Claire Siegele, and with her husband Bill on Presbyterian Homes and they really stepped up to help Helen through a transition time.  Claire and Helen became very close.  Bill's roommate at Lehigh, Art Marvin, had recently become a widower. After a couple years, they became quite a foursome, traveling together, going to the club for dinner, Lehigh football games, and just hanging out.  Helen and Art became a couple, but never married.  Helen went to all Art's cousins' reunions, and got to know his whole extended family, just as Art became a member of our little group.  They were a great couple and enjoyed each other for many happy years, until Art's passing about 10 years ago. The Siegeles, Art, and Helen had many wonderful trips together.  Between trips, she still spent a week a month down in North Carolina, and found time to contribute to her boards and charities, as well as keeping up the house and grounds.  "Maybe not as well as when your father was alive" she would say.  But still the property always looked good whenever family or friends would visit.

My brother's wife's family, Carl and Dixie Burkholder lived right across the creek.  As soon as Joe died, they were a built in safety net, checking up on her often.  Their presence certainly made things much easier for Helen, and I'm sure contributed to her decision to remain in her house as long as she did.  The grandparents bonded together and if you knew Carl, you know there were many dinners out.  

My best friend growing up was Carl Greener, who lived around the corner from us back in Allentown.  His dad Carl Sr. was one of my dad's golf buddies.  Carl and I split our time at each other's houses and his mom Barbara and Helen spent a lot of time together.  After Joe died, Carl and Barbara were great friends and support for Helen.  For many years she spent a couple weeks with them at their house in Antigua in February. Our families included each other on many holiday get togethers when convenient. Daughter Deb often drove the mothers to the Allentown Symphony.  Special birthday lunches were the standing procedure.

So, her life was full for the first twenty years after Joe passed away.  Lots of travel, friends, civic work, and caring for her mother Bess who lived to 104.  Cousin Jamie Scott, who lived in New York, was a welcome addition to the group.  Jamie is related through  Bess ( Cashwell.)  Jamie joins us on most Christmas events and has added a wonderful fresh air to family gatherings.  Helen especially enjoyed her many phone calls, notes, letters, and visits over the years.  Inevitably, about 10 years ago, Helen started slowing down a bit.  Bess passed away peacefully and that ended the trips to North Carolina.  Art was next to go, and Helen lost her constant dinner companion.  She quickly joined up with a group of country club friends who made it a point to spend Saturday night together at dinner at the club.  This was quite a lively group.  I often made it a point to attend the annual gathering at my mom's house for the Kentucky Derby.  Helen was an expert at mint juleps.  She started making the syrup days ahead of time.  They were served in pewter mugs over cracked ice, with a sprig of mint sticking up and powdered sugar on top.  They went down smooooooth.  There was always an elaborate pool created, horses were picked and such glee expressed when the winner was announced.  Probably won 10 bucks.  I always thought her interest in the triple crown was her way of paying homage to her dad's love of horses, a way of bonding with him from long ago.   I won't list the names of those in this group. They all know who they are, and their company was a great comfort and pleasure for Helen as she got older.

Her grand children were always much in Helen's thoughts.  Not only her grandchildren, but also all the children in the extended family.  Suzann's kids, Levi and Jordan,  Bob Burkholder's kids, Tyler and Shannon, Marsha's twins Matt and Wes,  right along with  Joey,  John, Julie, and Abbey.  All updates and visits were cause for great glee and endless reporting.  Helen was a voracious reader. Papers, magazines, books, anything she could get her hands on.  If something would have been of interest to any one of her family or friends, it would be cut out and mailed.  I started getting articles in the mail when I was away in prep school, and it never stopped until she started just holding them me for my visits.  Once I took over doing her bills and correspondence it was my job to send them off, to Joey, Jamie, to whomever the article might apply.  She covered two or three papers, weekly news magazines, business journals, as well as historical and archeological periodicals.  I can't believe she kept up with them all as long as she did.

The last couple years, Helen's health and mobility started deteriorating.  There were a couple hospital stays, and an extended rehab at Lehigh Manor.  Following that, just over a year ago, she came home with a full time care giver, Glenzes Dowdie from the Griswold agency.  Helen referred to Glenzes as her guardian angel.  Certainly, she made Helen's last year possible and kept it as enjoyable as she could.  She gave Helen the finest care anyone could expect, and did so with an unflappably pleasant presence.  We will always be thankful,  Glenzes.  Helen passed away just as she was about to return home from her last stay at the hospital.  Her great heart finally gave out.  I know I will miss her thoughtful conversation, her insights, her analysis of current events, and her wise council.  I'm sure others feel the same.  She was a classic member of the "Great Generation."  She was blessed with a sense of duty, the talents to contribute greatly, a grace and gentility which doesn't seem to be as present today.  She participated fully in the adventure of life.  Greatly enjoyed most of it, and endured stoically that which was unpleasant.  She was a good friend to her friends and enjoyed a lot of companionship in return.  At heart she was self sufficient and had a strong sense of who she was and what she valued.  A very strong core.  But she never let that get in the way of being outgoing, learning all she could about her friends and the world around her.  

She will be missed...  We love you, Helen.

helen...the middle years

Remembering Helen, the middle years

So now we come to the late 40's, Helen is in Allentown, and engaging in the active job of being the Girl Scout executive.  These types of jobs are usually quite demanding involving a lot of negotiating, pacifying, fund raising, coordinating, massaging, and generally making things happen.  I'm sure it was no different for Helen.  In this capacity she got to know many of the civic leaders in the area and seemed to be well regarded by most, if not all, many remaining friends for the rest of their lives.  What did Helen do for fun in her new adopted home?  I'm sure there were many trips back to New York to visit cousin Ginny on her days off.  I'm sure there were no shortage of fix-up dates set up by her girl scout board colleagues.  I suspect it would take a certain type of no-nonsense veteran to appeal to Helen at this point.  By now she had already seen a lot of life .  Apparently, one beau who stuck was Joe Potts.  As I heard it, they had actually met previously, when Helen was in the Red Cross doing soldier entertainment for the troops on the bases.  Apparently there was a party going on in someone's house, where an upstairs bathtub had been filled with champagne.  That room was presided over by a young Captain Potts, probably in charge of opening the bottles and testing same prior to dispersal amongst the guests.  I know my father was a master at opening champagne and very careful not to waste any by allowing the top to explode out along with half the contents.  A very careful twist at the right moment, and poof, with a  little smoke the cork neatly releases with nary a drop on the floor.  He taught his sons well.  Anyway, Helen was left with some kind of memory of Captain Potts which she recalled years later when they met in Allentown.

Joe Potts from Pottstown had roomed with Fritz Durham from Allentown at Princeton and remained fast friends.  After being discharged from the army and pondering his next move, Joe was hanging out with his buddy Fritz up in Allentown, planning on attending Harvard Business School in the fall.  Fritz's dad, Ned Durham, had a business  in town, Bonney Forge and Foundry.  Ned told Joe he was wasting his time at business school.  Hell, he could go to work for him right now along with his buddy Fritz.  He'd learn more on the job than he ever would out of a bunch of books in school.  Joe took him up on it.  At some point he and Helen reconnected, and I've heard the story of how, but don't recall it right now.  Joe is hard at work selling forged products all around the country, Helen busy running the girl scouts, and in 1949 they get married.  Their two kids, my brother Joe and I arrive in 1951 and 1952 respectively.  They move from the row house on Franklin St. right by the Hotel Traylor and the Girl Scout Office out to 30th St. in 1952 when a house becomes available.  There was a shortage of available housing back in those days.  The house was a charming thatch roof English cottage, which I'm sure reminded Helen of her time in England.  A horrible addition in the 60's destroyed the facade of this charming home.

In any event, Joe and Helen ran with a group known as the 30th St. Rat pack.  Bob and Betty Muir, the Staceys, Fritz and Kitty Durham,  I'm guessing Bus and Barbara Benner, Bill and Jocelyn Young, Chuck and Betty Garrettson, and I'm sure some others I am missing seemed to do a lot of partying as I was a kid growing up.  Always seemed to be some party somewhere.  Dinner and drinks at one or another of their houses.  Despite all this going on, I also recall going back to Pottstown almost every weekend  on Saturday.  My dad also had a group of Pottstown friends he kept up with.  Helen was quickly absorbed into the Pottstown Potts family.  She adored Joe's dad, Dr. Potts.  His brother and family also lived in town at that time.  Joe's mother, Sarah,  quite a character in her own right,  enjoyed sharing recipes and teaching Helen the ins and outs of being a married woman. "Oh ye gods and little fishes, how I hate to do the dishes". One of Sarah's quotes.  Dr Potts was in poor health and passed away in 1955, and Joe had to spend a lot of time helping to keep up the big house they lived in, a Queen Anne style Victorian perched on a rise right next to the Hill School.  Always adaptable, Helen melded right in to the social scene both in Pottstown and Allentown, forming fast friendships which lasted her lifetime.  Most of the stories from this time revolve around Joe, who was a rather compelling character himself.  But suffice it to say that Helen matched him step for step despite playing more of a supporting role, being responsible at first for her girl scout duties, and later raising a couple of rambunctious boys as well as contributing to a variety of civic organizations.  Weekends traveling to Pottstown.  Parties Friday and Saturday nights.  Far more hectic than my lifestyle today.

Bonney Forge was bought out by Miller Manufacturing in the late 50's, early 60's and my dad had to start flying out to Ohio each week.  Eventually, Miller Manufacturing was bought out by Gulf and Western.  The simple little forging business became the Energy Products Group in Gulf and Western, and Joe's responsibilities became more global.  He went around the world looking at forging operations, buying those that fit the EPG framework, and integrating their operations within the conglomerate's protocols.  Scotland, Italy, France, Mexico, even a quick look at Iran when the Shah was there.  A lot of International Travel.  Often, Helen accompanied him, providing some much needed support and aid entertaining the wives of the men managing the companies involved.  At times it was to make them feel comfortable with the people buying out what was usually a family business.  Other times it was to promote a sense of team building with the wives of the new managers.  Either way, it was important work.  As they say, mama ain't happy, ain't nobody happy.  While Helen did well with the wives, she also did well with their husbands.  She was very adept at dealing with men, understood them, and was able to show interest in the things they found interesting.  If she didn't know about something, she went out of her way to learn.  They next time she met you, she would have something to contribute.  That was her way.  The Cambells in Scotland, the Minardi's in Bergamo, many others became family friends who maintained ties through the years.

Don't think that Helen totally abandoned her North Carolina roots with all this immersion in Pennsylvania and the world of Joe.  Far from it.  "I'm a tar-heel born and a tar-heel bred, and when I die I'm a tar-heel dead."  A common comment.  Each year Helen drove the boys down to High Point for a week with her mother and sister, then a week down in Cherry Grove (now part of Myrtle Beach)  This was usually during union negotiations, a stressful part of the year for Joe, who typically stayed home the first week and joined us the second.  Besides there was better golf in myrtle Beach at the Dunes Golf and Beach Club.  In addition to the summer visits, her mother and Betsy often came north to stay with us for a couple weeks each year.  Summer Camp outside Asheville for my brother and I for 5 weeks each summer added to our southern heritage and awareness.  Helen saw to it we knew our roots.

In the late 60's, Joe's mother , who had lived alone in her large house with Joe and family coming over to maintain things every couple weeks , developed some dementia and had to put placed in a home.  It became Helen's job to check up on things, which she faithfully did each day for several years.  Barbara Benner was active in Republican politics and when a nursing home licensing board was being put together, they were looking for a consumer advocate to place on the panel.  Barbara said she had a friend who was in one every day and before long the governor was calling asking her if she wanted to participate.  After conferring with Joe, who thought it might be a good experience for her, she accepted.  Thus began a four or five year period where she saw some of the underside of Pennsylvania politics, as well as the inner workings of the nursing home business.  The Shapp administration came in and Helen kept on trekking to Harrisburg a couple times a month working on this board several more years.  One day she got a call from the Governor. "Helen" he said  "I had no idea you weren't a Democrat.  I'm going to get my skin fried politically if I don't get you off this board and give it to one of my democratic supporters. You've done a great job, but I have to ask you to resign."  No hard feelings from Helen.  She understood. It was how the world of patronage in government worked. She was surprised they wanted her as long as they had.

In the meantime, her experience with nursing home administration made her a valuable member of the Presbyterian Homes network where she next donated her talents.  For many years she put a lot of miles and a lot of work on a variety of projects undertaken around the state.  She learned the ins and outs of finance riding back and forth to Dillsburg with Carl Bear, chairman of Merchants Bank.  Helen's task on these boards was typically to listen carefully, ask the questions that seemed too obvious or silly to be asked by those Helen referred to as "the men".  By doing so, of course, she always managed to get to the nut of the problem, and her participation was valued.  She had a keen eye and a sharp wit, and was not inclined to let things slide when they needed to be done.

During the early 60's the family had outgrown their charming English cottage.  Joe was an avid golfer and Lehigh member.  The boys were trekked out to the club each day for swimming and what not and picked up each afternoon.  A property adjoining the golf course came up for sale and Joe was entranced.  It was a summer home for the Freemans of Freemans' dairy.  It was a cottage they had rebuilt in the thirties complete with beautiful gardens and stone retaining walls everywhere.  A narrow sliver of steep ground along the Little Lehigh, it had a series of paths developed along the contours of the slope.  There was abundant wildlife, hills for sledding, lots of trouble for the boys to find.  Helen was convinced, and here she made her home until the end of her days.  Though at first it was Joe's sanctuary, Pottsheim, soon it was equally Helen's.  The place she thought of as home.  For about 50 years.

The years of international travel and corporate stress took their toll on Joe.  While on one of his marathon business trips which started out in Allentown, midday in Michigan, and a late dinner in Mexico City, he had a massive heart attack and died in 1980.  This was a total surprise.  He was in very good shape, and was checked out rigorously by Gulf and Western each year.  It was a big shock for Helen as well as the rest of us, who by now were out on our own pursuing our various careers.  So begins the third phase of Helen's saga.

Helen Cashwell Bolling -The early years

So Helen, born Helen Bolling, grew up in High Point, North Carolina in the 20's and 30's.  Her Parents were good Southern stock.  Father Andrew Jackson Bolling was from a long line of North Carolina residents, some say stretching back to Pocahontas and King Powhatan (the red line).  Her Mom, Bess, was a Cashwell, another great Carolina name stretching back to Revolutionary War times.  Jack, as her dad was called, was a miller, engaged in the flour business.  He was a partner in North State Milling Company, makers of Daily Bread flour, a thriving enterprise in Greensboro.  Makers of the best biscuit flour in the state, as I've heard.  Jack's family had farms in Deep River, between High Point and Greensboro.  Jack was known for his love of horses, and Helen relayed that he was known to have the best "team" in the county.  Helen liked horses, but was never a good rider.  She said Jack's review was she didn't have a "seat".  Bess was a school teacher, one of the few women to attend college in North Carolina in that time.  Her family (a long line of Southern Baptist ministers) was big on education.  So Helen and her much younger sister Betsy were well prepared to face the tasks of education.  Helen in fact graduated from college at 19, attending what was then known as University of North Carolina Women's College, now UNCG.  She took a rigorous course majoring in Physical Education.  What you have to understand is  though Helen apparently did well in school, all she really wanted to do was play ball.  She apparently was talented enough that the boys in the neighborhood didn't mind her playing in their pick up games.  It seems it was a struggle for Bess to keep Helen indoors doing her chores and homework when there was any action outside.  Consequently, she seemed to miss out on the gene about handwork and homemaking which seemed to run in the family.  Helen was more of an outside action type.

Her Dad died unexpectedly her junior year in college, so it was important for her to get a job right away after graduation.  She was fortunate to have a mentor at UNCG who was well connected and able to place her students at various positions around the state.  Helen got a teaching job in Rocky Mount at a 9 month school, which was apparently a good deal, for you only got paid for the time the school was open.  It was at this time that she got rated by the NCAA to referee basketball games.  She did a couple of these a week and, as she said, made more money doing that than teaching school.  There was one season when the school football coach fell short handed for some reason and enlisted Helen to do some scouting for him of some of the other teams in the conference.  Though she only had a cursory knowledge of the game, the coach taught her what to look for, and report back.  As you might imagine, she became pretty well known by the various players around the league.

When war broke out, and the country was mobilizing, her mentor from UNCG called and made the recommendation  she join the Red Cross.  They needed experts to start up and develop recreation programs for the hordes of soldiers being brought in to the system.  Though she was young, it was thought that her playground experience would be a solid background for this kind of work.  Helen was game, joined up, and soon was sent to a small town near one of the camps to set up some programs.  When she arrived in town, some of the proper citizens greeted her (this is the South in the early 40's) with a directive  to get the general to clean up some of the brothels that seemed to be developing at a rapid pace.  So this 21 or 22 year old lady goes in to meet with whatever crusty general was in charge of the camp and demands that efforts be made to curtail prostitution.  "Young Lady" he says "have you ever even seen a hooker?"  Helen stammered some response probably, and he adds.  "I want you to know that we have the prostitutes well organized.  I have one house for the enlisted, one for the NCO's and one for the officers.  The girls are checked out every week, and everything is under control.  Don't go messing with a system that's working."  Must have been quite an eye opener for a young Southern Baptist girl.

Helen by this time had acquired a car to get around to her various activities.  Actually she took over payments on her cousin's Plymouth after he enlisted.  She got one of her soldier friends to drive her over to where the car was in High Point to get it, for she never even had a lesson on how to drive.  He drove them back towards the camps until it got to the point where the road split.  Rather than walk back, or wait for a bus, he got out, told Helen to slide over and take herself home.  Made sense to her too, and off she went.  Apparently there was a little parking lot prang where a headlamp was busted.  A policeman helped her and asked for her license.  Of course she didn't have one.  He suggested that perhaps she acquire one, so the next day went to the station, filled out a form, and they gave her one.  Different times.  The busted headlamp was another thing.  That cost some money to get fixed, which came out of meager pay for the next year.  Helen was always very careful parking the car thereafter.

I don't think it was all playgrounds, basketball, and soldier rec. at this time, for there was also a lot of talk about driving for miles to tobacco warehouses to hear the big bands and go to dances.  We didn't get a lot of stories about this, but there was enough to let you know Helen wasn't sitting at home all the time.  Dancing and big bands remained one of her favorite listening and recreation activities.  Jitterbugging, Linsey Hop, and all that.  I do recall something about a trumpet player for Tommy Dorsey, but who knows?

Next thing was the Red Cross developed the idea of having Clubmobiles go over to England, where troops were gradually being shipped to get ready for invasion.  These were to be large trucks equipped with donut making and coffee machines to be staffed by a group of girls from back home to lend a sense of normalcy to the otherwise rigorous life of the drafted and displaced troops.  These women had to be pretty self sufficient, able to handle their trucks and logistics and keep pace with the army.  Sounded like a perfect spot for Helen, with her soldier rec. experience , so off she went.  Sailed on the Queen Elizabeth in May of 43 off to England as part of one of these Clubmobile units.  These women had to be pretty adept.  They were issued huge Bedford Lorries, given orders to appear at such and such a village, and then get their trucks, gear, and set up in place.  Only thing was, this was blackout.  Road signs were removed to confuse the Germans in case they invaded.  People not too inclined to give info to strangers.  It was no easy task finding these places.  Usually they were billeted in small hotels 4 to a room in little villages.  Problem was, they were never back until late at night after they had completed their duty at whatever camp to which they were assigned that day.  Worn out after setting up, serving, and tearing down each night, they struggled back to a village, parked their truck wherever there was space (not nearby) found their little hotel, and inevitably had to climb in through an open window, as the doors by law had to be barred at midnight.  Wake up the next day and do it again. 

Its not that they got no training.  After a while, the Bedfords were replaced by 2 1/2 ton GMC trucks which pulled a generator.  The army didn't want their supply line messed by by a bunch of trucks in ditches driven by a group of "donut dollies" so they arranged to train them  how to drive.  The location was Wimbledon.  There was a big pile of dirt center court which had to be navigated.  Some ornery old sergeant gave directions, "If youse girls don't keep your thumbs up, you're going to lose 'em."  Helen always drove with her hands at 10-2 and her thumbs along the rim, not wrapped around the spokes.  A lesson not forgotten.  She earned her truck driving proficiency card, still proudly displayed in the family room.

 There are photos of Helen and the other girls at this time.  One of my favorites shows Helen and an officer standing in the grass outside a place labeled Talbot Close, Bournemouth - Larry and Me - 3/44.  Larry has a glass in his hand, arm around Helen's waist.  Helen has a knee bent, leaning in to him, looking very comfortable.  My guess is that it wasn't all work during this period.  I don't think I ever heard anything about Larry.  Usually Helen called her old boy friends "dears"  My guess is he didn't make it back, not an uncommon outcome for Helen's friends at this time.

They crossed the channel in July of 44, not long after D-day.  As the troops were loading one guy called up to her "Hey Carolina, looka here.  Its Mizz Bolling.  If she's going over, I guess it won't be too bad for us."  It was one of the guys she had scouted in football a couple years earlier.  She looked him up after the war.  He hadn't made it.  Whoever loaded the boats unwisely placed their GMC trucks on top of the anti-aircraft guns.  Apparently there was some air activity as they landed and they needed the guns.  So the trucks were unloaded and the women moved them to a nearby orchard to get out of the way.  In the meantime night had fallen.  The girls in the crew figured a good place to sleep would be under the trucks, and set up their camp accordingly.  No way!! Some G-2 came over, got them out from underneath and told them to start digging foxholes nearby, but not too close.  Not  smart being under trucks with air activity going on.  They made nice targets.  Best to get out of the way.  Stay safe if you can. Helen remained proud of her foxhole digging talent, bragging about it just last week.

These club-mobile troops followed close behind the army, setting up each day giving the troops aid and comfort whenever and wherever they could as they crossed France into Belgium and Germany.   The lines got quite confusing, and there were times they actually got behind the German lines without knowing it.  Life in the field was a bit rustic for the ladies.  Helen often talked about having to pee in her helmet, much to the disgust of grandchildren, but amusement of my brother and I.  Helen had one story of appearing at a village in Belgium where there were nuns who had a shower.  The Red cross crew took turns washing up.  When it was Helen's turn, some stocky local official turns up at the shower door demanding identification.  "Red cross, Red cross" Helen gamely responds, hoping for the best.  Turns out to be the local police looking for some rumored Nazi collaborators.  Whew!  Shower resumes.

One of Helen's fondest memories was from this time.  Her 25th birthday, so it must have been Sept. 8, 1944.  They are invited to meet a cardinal and tour a famous cathedral.  They had to wear their best dress uniforms, cover their heads, and kiss the ring when his hand is presented.  Her friend Kitty bent over to do so, got a run in her stocking which made a noise, distracted her and her face slipped on the cardinal's hand smudging lipstick all over.  Embarrassed, she apologized for her clumsiness, but the cardinal put them at ease, "My dear, I haven't had a ladies lipstick smudged on me since before I took my vows."  He was taken with these club-mobile girls, and learning it was Helen's birthday insisted they take a case of the good champagne they had hidden from the Germans.  Somehow there was a group of soldiers with some apple tarts in this story, and the upshot was a great party with champagne and apple tarts to mark the 25th. Lesson: find your parties where you may.  The best times may be unplanned.

As you might imagine, these club-mobiles became great favorites of the various generals and their outfits.  Once you got attached to a particular group, they didn't want to let go and risk losing them.  There were many dinner invites at the officer's mess, and a lot of gossip heard about who was performing and who wasn't.  Helen was often in touch with General Bolling, who called her cousin Helen, although no direct connection was present.  General Bolling's son Bud Bolling had been captured, but later escaped from a POW camp.  Helen happened to be present when he re-united with his dad, and that was the basis for a bond between them.  Bud went on to a long  career in the army.  After he retired, he became interested in genealogy and family history and started the Bolling Family Association.  He contacted Helen and she has supported this group ever since.  Helen often came up with little comments or tidbits of gossip she heard during these times with the brass as they spoke about Patton, Bradley, Montgomery, and others directing the course of the war and their current predicaments.

One of the things she never forgot was passing nearby one of the extermination camps.  These weren't widely known at the time, but one of the officers thought it important for some of the Red Cross independent agents see what was going on.  Helen's group of Club-mobile girls were taken in and shown the works.  She had no time for those who claimed it was all a myth.  She had been there and seen it.

After VE day, the club-mobiles stayed on servicing the troops who remained.  Some joined up to go to the Pacific Theater, but Helen was ready to return home, having been away for several years.  She contacted her old mentor at UNCG, and was informed the girl scouts were looking for leaders and that would be a good field for her.  At this point she was staying in New York with her cousin Virginia, whose brother, CW, had first bought the car she took over payments on.  I'm not sure if CW ever found out about the busted headlight though.  Helen liked New York, the plays, the fashions (shoes), and probably the general pulse.  High Point probably seemed pretty sleepy to her by this time.  In any event, there were openings in Wilkes Barre, Wilmington, and Allentown.  She took the train to interviews at all three.  The interview in Allentown took place on Lincoln's birthday at the Hotel Traylor.  This was a pretty good walk up the hill from the old LV railroad station.  It was to be at 11:00.  When Helen arrived they  retired to the hotel restaurant around a lunch table with some of the town leaders who were on the scout board.  First thing they did was ask what does she want to drink.  Now I'm sure Helen was no stranger to booze (witness the 25th birthday story) but she  is nonetheless a proper Southern lady out on a job interview.  She demurely orders a glass of ice tea.  The rest of the table orders the first of many martinis.  I suppose the interview went rather well and at 1:30 they adjourned, allowing Helen time to get back to the station in time to catch the 2:00 train.  Unfortunately, all had forgotten it was a holiday and there was no 2:00 train.  By then a drizzle had started, and being February it was no doubt a bit brisk.  Helen waited in the cold until 6:00 and the next train home.  In spite of this inauspicious start, or perhaps because of it, she decided to take the Allentown job, and thus begins the next phase of her life.

initial post

This is a blog which is designed to allow people to post memories they may have of my mother, Helen Potts.  Born Helen Cashwell Bolling, after a long eventful life, she passed away this past June. Fortunately she was able to remain fairly active up to the end, able to stay in her own house, and was still driving up to a couple years ago.  As most of you know, her time on this earth was varied and fulfilling; most would agree it was a life well led.

These blogs are a little unusual in that they read in reverse chronology, with the most recent postings appearing first.  So many of you reading this have already finished reading posts which are yet to come.  This is an odd condition for any writer, but adds an organic nature to the growth of the narrative.  We can only see if that happens here.  The first posts will be remembrances I put together in the week after Helen's passing.  These were done in three sections, and I'll post them here as the first three posts.  Feel free to join the blog and post comments, add stories or observations as you see fit.  The purpose here is to try to create a community of points of view.  In any event, have at it.  Please add whatever you think the community might enjoy.