Being at Kemmerer Home for awhile, I soon learned that pretense was used all the time to keep kids from knowing what was actually happening. If a child was being taken for placement, that child's brother or sister was called to the basement. Always the basement. When the child came from the basement, his or her sister was gone. I really remember the procedure when my good friend Donald Evans left that way. It really hurt.
Keep in mind this is mid-to-late 1930's.
On this day, we kids were playing at the weeping willow tree near the front porch. Tag was the game.
Mr Rector (Parent) called for me to come to the basement locker room. I started walking. "Hi Johnny", yelled Pearl. I looked up at the porch. Pearl was dressed in her good clothes. Not her play clothes. I then realized it was happening again to me. I started crying but kept on walking. At the basement Mr. Rector turned into the locker room. I turned opposite and ran into the laundry room and out the side door. As I opened the door, the car Pearl was in drove past me. I ran for the car. "Pearl," I yelled, "wait". I reached inside the car window. I remember grabbing Pearl's arm and head. I remember touching her hair. The car sped down the driveway and off grounds. I ran to the hedge row and stopped. I was crying now. "Pearl, come back. You can have all my marbles," I yelled. By now the car was passed the caregiver's house.
I watched the car disappear way down the road. "Pearl come back," I said to myself. I dropped to the ground crying. The car was completely gone from sight now. "Pearl's gone. I can't play tag anymore with her," I said to myself.
I felt my hand. I looked down. Pearl's Red Hair Ribbon. I touched it. It is! I put it in my pocket and ran for the house. Upstairs in the bedroom, I folded the ribbon and put it in a small Christmas box I had in my drawer, not knowing 49-50 years from then, I would be handing Pearl's Red Hair Ribbon to her.
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