As this month comes to a close, the insurance actuaries who
keep track of such things will record by my name, 85 years of age, and if I am
still here, I will be pleased to join in the celebration on that day.
For that reason and, that reason alone, I am changing the
content of this blog to reveal what I had intended from the start. I know
for a fact, my opinions will probably disappear by sundown. My life,
however, will continue far beyond any grave marker as what I have to offer now
was born in the years of my life. This I know, above all, I am obligated
to offer thanks for the many who have helped along the way.
Interestingly, the following came to my desk this very
morning. The words of an English Quaker by the name of William Littleboy.
“It is in the common facts and circumstances of life that God draws near
to us. He teaches us in the routines of life’s trifles, gently and
unnoticed. His guidance comes to us through the channels of “reason and
judgment”. We will realize we have been taught by Him when we least
expected it, we have been guided, through His guiding hand rested upon us so
lightly that we were unaware of its touch.”
Nothing could have been more fitting than these words as I
open the doors of my life to reveal the “routines” of daily living.
For most people living in Detroit, MI, on August 28, 1929,
the “news” of the day centered on the flight of the German dirigible, the Graf
Zeppelin, as it flew by. In the maternity ward of Henry Ford hospital,
however, William and Blanche McRae, were eagerly awaiting the arrival of their
daughter, Shirley Lou, named of course in honor of the child star in those
days, Shirley Temple. There appeared to be a problem. The baby was
not a girl, but a boy, and in those anxious moments for others, I was born.
What to do about the name, that was the question. Somehow, some one
recalled a banker who lived in St; Clair, MI, where they had met and married,
by the name of Sherwood Recor and so it would be Sherwood. Shirley Lou
would come later.
Those were happy days for my parents, but then came the
stock market “crash” a few weeks later, a harbinger of the hard times that
would follow.
“We” would move to Toledo, OH, and then on to Cleveland,
actually Lakewood, OH, where - in 1932, their Shirley Lou would enter our
lives. These were tough times, financially, and when our Mother’s Mother
came to help, she offered to take young Sherwood home with her, to Yale, MI,
where there was lots of room to play and plenty to eat. We never knew
her motives but she had suffered the loss of a son - to be named, Keith, who
was still born. The way she loved on me and treated me has always made
me believe that God had replaced her grief with a first grand son.
Times got worse, the family moved back to Detroit and then,
our Father who had been in a minor auto accident in Ohio, was incapacitated by
a cyst that was pressuring on his brain - as a result of an earlier accident,
and things went from bad to worse. I had come home to Detroit, but with
this burden on our Mother, I was welcomed back to the farm where I would live
until I joined the Army Air Corps in 1946. Somewhere along the line, our
Father passed away. I know the date but it would be years before anyone
wanted to share with me, the circumstances that ended his life.
No one seemed to notice that I should have known as I seemed
to be a happy youngster, had close friends in neighboring farms, a wonderful
grade school teacher and a high school where it seemed to others, I was
accepted by one and all. Except for the fact, it often seemed to me, I
had no Father and only an “occasional” Mother who would come home to Yale from
her busy life, working and caring for my sister.
Hope I haven't bored you with these facts. I'll be
back tomorrow with an explanation.
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