Raising Seven Children

 

The seven children.
Front row: Gerald, Mary Elizabeth, Florence, and Lucille.
Back row: Archie, Jr., Arch, Eva, Woodrow, and Julia
A .
s their seven children grew up, Eva and Arch found that their home was a center for social activities in the neighborhood. There was always something fun going on at the Connors' house, and the sound of laughter and singing around the piano was always heard in the era before television began to dominate family life. Eva encouraged the children to bring their friends over and play at home rather than roam around the neighborhood.

Their third daughter, Lucy Ritchie, describes her childhood: "We were short on playing equipment, so we invented games. For instance, we sometimes used Dad's bamboo fishing poles to pole vault over ditches. That was really exciting after a big rainstorm when the ditches were full.

"Dad had made a sturdy, revolving clothesline for Mama. It was similar to a wagon wheel with spokes which turned around a large cast iron pipe. When the clothes were hanging on the line, the wind would cause it to revolve slowly, then it would pick up speed, going faster and faster as it gained momentum. It was hilarious to see all those clothes flying around, a carousel of colors, shapes and textures. Naturally, the kids started using it for a merry-go-round. The taller children would get it going and then the smaller children would run around, trying to grab a spoke. At any time of day, kids could be seen hanging on our clothesline, whirling around and around.

"Our house stood about four feet off the ground on a brick foundation, because Dad intended to excavate the basement. (That was before he found out all the houses in the area had flooded basements because of the high water table.) Anyway, one side of the foundation was open and Dad stored his building materials under there, including a pile of sand. It was a wonderful place to play when it was raining or too hot outside. It was great for Mama, too, because it was underneath the kitchen and she could hear everything we said!

"The kids invented a game called, "Little Man," using bits and pieces gleaned from Dad's building materials and his toolbox. Wooden spools were the little people and skates were the automobiles. We made houses from pieces of 2x4's and other scraps we found lying around. Lux soap wrappers made excellent rugs.

"Another of our joys was the large, hardwood swing which Dad made for the wrap-around front porch. We would always swing it sideways, making the swing fly out over the edge of the porch as far as we could get it to go. Luckily, it was a well-made swing, and the chains never broke. In the summer, we spent a lot of time in it, while visiting with friends, churning butter, looking at the Sears-Roebuck catalog, waiting for the mailman, or shelling black-eyed peas and butterbeans.

"Then there was "Shoot-the-Chute," which was an exhilarating ride from the top of a tree on a cable guy wire to a telephone pole. Our brothers would put a pipe or a wheel on the cable and hoist it up to the top of a nearby tree to the waiting rider. Then came the wild ride to the bottom of the guy wire.

"One day the boys were pole-vaulting in the back yard with a bamboo pole brought home by the youngest, Archie. Watching the boys, Daddy decided he could do this, too. So he took the pole in hand, made a running start, and the pole snapped in two, landing him flat on his back. As he lay there without moving, staring at the sky, the boys ran yelling for Mama. She was in the kitchen, in the critical stages of sweet potato pie-making. She looked out the window and studied the situation, then said to the boys, "He's all right----see, he's still puffing on his cigar!" All that pole-vaulting finally paid off when Archie, Jr. placed third in the state meet. We called Archie our "dessert" because he came last and he was so much fun. He had a lot of original ideas for getting into trouble.

"When we misbehaved, Mama sent us out to the big plum tree to pick our own switch. We had to choose carefully, because if we came back with a puny little twig, she would go to the tree and pick a real switch. Then she stripped the leaves and applied the proper punishment. This was the accepted method in that era, and combined with plenty of love, it worked wonders with would-be delinquents.

"Dad always said that Mama was the best cook in Duval County; needless to say, she had plenty of practice. Every day, except Sunday, Mama baked hot rolls. We always had a fantastic dessert for dinner every night----banana pudding, perfect egg custard, peach cobbler, big brown ginger snaps cut just right for dunking, cinnamon rolls, apple pie, sweet potato pie, cornstarch cake or tutti frutti cake. Dad's favorite was a yellow cake with a chocolate frosting. About every third day, he would say, "Why don't you make a yellow cake?" None of us ever got tired of it. Mama could make a cake and frost it in double quick time. She knew all her recipes by heart, learned from her mother.

"After dinner we usually sat around the table talking and laughing. Dad read the paper, but kibitzed. Our friends felt free to come by after dinner and have a cup of coffee and some dessert. Archie, the family clown, entertained us with jokes or improvisations. When the older children gave parties, they rolled up the rug to dance on the beautiful hardwood floor which we had waxed and then polished by donning old socks and skating around. Once, for one of our parties, Mama made a yellow cake with chocolate frosting. Because the tile on the kitchen counter was wet, the cake slid off into the sink. 'Oh, shaw!' she exclaimed, and promptly made another cake!

"Occasionally, Grandpa Rufus Haddock would come to visit us. Carrying his suitcase, he would walk from the streetcar line about three miles away. We were all overjoyed to see him. Grandpa really knew how to please his grandchildren; he always brought candy for us and played games with us. After visiting with us for about two weeks, he would go back to the old home place in Kings Ferry. When everyone in our family had smallpox, Grandpa came to help take care of us. As a result, he also contracted smallpox and lost the sight in his left eye. He was a sweet, wonderful man, and everyone loved him. In 1931 he had a heart attack and died."
Eva, Arch and daughter Lucille.

During the Great Depression in the 30's, the Connors garden produced food that was shared with neighbors in financial distress. Children flocked to eat the grapes off the grapevine on the back fence. Milk was plentiful, obtained from their pretty little Jersey cow, Daisy. (Daisy had the amazing ability to turn on the outside spigot with her horns whenever she was thirsty, flooding the field with water).

Arch's rule was never to turn away anyone who was hungry, and many a drifter showed up at the back door for an odd job and a meal. One of her neighbors told Eva years later that one week when things were especially bad, the only food their family had were the vegetables that Eva had brought to them out of her garden.

Not that Arch and Eva were without their own troubles. Carpentry jobs were scarce, and Arch was lucky to find any kind of work at all. On one occasion they were totally broke and Eva was wondering how she would feed the children that day. So she asked God for help in her usual way. Fifteen minutes later the phone rang and it was a man who wanted Arch to come right over to do a roofing job, and since he was going to be out of town, would it be all right if he paid Arch in advance?

During the 1940's, Arch became a building contractor. He became known for building solid homes, and invented a type of steel brace that made the roof virtually hurricane-proof. Arch had a special interest in roofs because he had a traumatic memory from his childhood of suffering through a hurricane during which the roof was blown away.

The children began marrying and leaving home. As soon as two of the girls had settled in the Northwest, Arch decided that he and Eva should drive West to visit them every summer. This was in the days before the Interstate highway system had been built, and a 6000 mile automobile trip was a strenuous undertaking. But Arch had always been fascinated with the American West, and he would come back from each trip with silver dollars jingling in his pockets, with plenty of entertaining stories for friends and family members. He would return wearing a string tie and rolled the brim of his Panama hat as if he were a cowboy. Eva brought back rocks for her garden (there are no rocks in Florida).

Arch was well known for his good memory, and until his fatal heart attack in 1959, he could tell you minute details about each of the eleven trips they made----not only famous landmarks like the Grand Canyon, but the name of every town they traveled through and the characteristics of the countryside around it, and names of people they met along the way and interesting things about them. He was impressed by the wide open spaces in the West, where the land was so empty and barren that "even jackrabbits carried their lunch." They eventually visited all 50 states.

On one of these trips, Eva was concerned because the tires needed replacing. Arch said that they weren't that bad, and he would take care of it when they returned. All during the trip she was praying that they would not have a flat tire, requiring him to overexert his bad heart. After the trip was completed and they drove into the garage, Eva said aloud, "Thank you, dear Lord, for keeping us safe and for not letting the tires go flat." The next morning when Arch went to the garage two tires were flat!

 
Arch and Eva Connors