I was born in Gilroy and grew up there until I was 10. My childhood was relatively normal until I came in from playing outside one day and found my mother on the floor. She had passed away from a stroke.
That changed our lives. In those days, men didn’t know what to do with babies; they just made them and lost interest after that. My father, who was a builder, wasn’t capable of taking care of us and the Great Depression made it difficult to find work.
My twin sister and I were passed between our siblings for a while until we were put in a Catholic boarding school when we were about 11. We lived there, attending day classes and taking care of the younger children we were each assigned. It was a life that we definitely did not enjoy. When my dad was having trouble paying the school tuition, they went by the barter system; my dad would do jobs for the convent in exchange for our education and board.
When we were 14, our dad got us a room in Menlo Park and we started working at a creamery. We took care of ourselves from a young age and were often hungry, so we would steal candy bars from the creamery. I recently talked to the owner and asked if she knew about the stealing, and she said she did, but she also knew we were hungry.
I met my husband in Menlo Park and we had a daughter together. I stayed with his mother while he was in Okinawa, Japan fighting in World War II, and we had a son when he got back.
When my husband was hired as the Palo Alto fire chief, we had to move there. We built our own house and I stayed home taking care of the kids. Then, when my son started junior high, I went to work as a receptionist at Stanford University for 30 years.
One day, when both my husband and I had retired, we decided to try out La Comida for lunch. After going back several times, we started volunteering there. I wanted to do more than stay home, and this opportunity was perfect. I helped out for more than 25 years until I was forced to stop due to my health. I loved two things: the work and the people. Those two things work together very well at La Comida.
The communal dining room setup invited us to sit together and meet new people. We got to know each other through conversation during meals and activities. I grew close to the manager, Mary Ruth. We clicked instantly and became good friends. I recently turned 94 and she called me to wish me a happy birthday. Now that I have to stay home due to the COVID-19 pandemic, I get meals from La Comida every Friday.
In some respects, I think the pandemic is worse than the Great Depression or World War II. The pandemic restricts life so much. I get out for a walk regularly, but I don’t go anywhere else. I’m a very independent person and I resent the fact that I can’t do everything I did before, but I guess that’s just part of growing old.
Looking back on the past can be difficult. My husband came back from the war sick but he lived until he was 80, and my son died in 2014. I didn’t ever get upset or unhappy about my life. There are a lot of good memories of my family and my twin sister — having a twin sister was the luckiest thing that ever happened to me. We were very close. So now here I am, the only one left of seven children.
