Chapter 2 the harvey family
Download 2.2 Mb.
|
- Navigate this page:
- ELEVEN KIDS
- THE LAKE
MOM'S EULOGYAt the funeral, I gave the following eulogy in honor of our Mom. Elsie Marie Harvey was born to William Raymond and Alice Remaley Pedicord on December 30th, 1912, in Corliss, Pennsylvania near Pittsburgh. The family soon moved to Pitman, New Jersey. One sister died as an infant and she is survived by a brother, John and two sisters, Clara and Leola. Leola lives in Northern California and could not attend today because her husband Emory is also experiencing serious health problems. Our mother married David Van Meter Harvey on May 30th, 1934 and she was a faithful wife to him for 58 years. Our Father passed away in a tragic fire on February 11th, 1992. Some knew our mother as "Elsie" or "Mrs. Harvey", but to most, she was simply "Mom Harvey". This is understandable when one considers that she gave birth to twelve children and raised eleven of them to maturity. At latest count, she had 36 grandchildren and 26 great grand- children, with three more on the way. I believe that all my siblings would agree that Mom had no favorites among her children. She was always fair and loving, yet strict with each of us. She was not the kind of Mother who insisted that her children behaved and got good notes in school so she could brag about our accomplishments. Nor was she terribly concerned about what others would say if we were bad. She wanted us to do good and learn well for our own benefit and to please God. It was her main concern that we should grow up to be good Christians, applying the biblical principles which she taught us in our daily lives. In short, she considered us her contribution to the world. Each of her children was in some way an extension of herself. What we enjoyed, whether it was a noisy car, a pet skunk or the friends we brought to her house, she too seemed to enjoy. She also shared in our disappointments when a favorite toy was broken or a pet died. Our accomplishments gave her satisfaction and our failures or faults made her wonder what she had done wrong or what she could have done better. More than once, Mom seemed close to death, but when her children gathered around her bedside she seemed to gain renewed strength. Before long, she would be eating ice cream with us and listening eagerly to every word that was spoken. Mom left a number of diaries and poems, which reveal her depth of character and deep seated love for both God and her family. Mom had a humble servant’s heart. One might think that raising so many children would leave little time for other activities. This was not the case with my mother. She was always involved in church activities. She started the nursery ministry and served as church secretary for many years without remuneration. In addition to her own children, there was always room for other needy people in our home. A half dozen children lived for various lengths of time with us and when the church asked for someone to give hospitality to a visiting missionary or evangelist, Mom was often first to respond. During the fifties and sixties, racial tensions and prejudices were common, but Mom had an open heart for all and helped with an outreach to Puerto Rican migrant laborers. Mom always served without a murmur or complaint and with no expectation of reward. It must have been extremely difficult, but Mom took care of both of our grandmothers for a number of years until they passed away. When one considers the monumental task of raising a bunch of unruly kids at the same time, this is truly remarkable! It seemed rather uncanny, yet appropriate, that her death occurred exactly 21 years to the day after Grandmom Pedicord passed into eternity. Mom died in the very same room of the same house! And her own daughter, Grace, was caring for her at the time. EXCEPTIONALLY GIFTED Our mother was artistically gifted, leaving us a legacy of drawings and paintings. She used her talents in church functions by doing "chalk talks." Mom also wrote excellent poetry and was a master of journalism. She was a perfect and fast typist and an efficient secretary. She was musically gifted and had a lovely voice. Few are aware of the fact that Mom also played the piano quite well. I am reminded of one of my earliest childhood recollections of Mom. I was about five or six years old and begged Mom to play and sing a song for me. She must have been having a bad day, but I was not aware of this. Condescendingly, she sat down at the piano and asked what song I liked. I replied, "Wide, Wide as the Ocean". While I listened, she began playing, but in the middle she suddenly stopped and began to cry. Then she took me into her lap and actually thanked ME for making that request! I couldn't understand at that young age why she thanked me when I should have thanked her! I think I know now where she had to stop singing: "I though so unworthy, still am a child of His care - for His Word teaches me that His love reaches me anywhere."* DEEP ROOTED FAITH IN GOD Mom's guide to life was the Bible and her source of strength was prayer. When we children were naughty, she made us learn Bible verses. By the time I was out of High School, I had memorized a sizable portion of the Scriptures! My parents held family and personal devotions, prayed before meals and encouraged us to pray and read our own Bibles. They took us to just about every church function. When, as a teenager, I returned home late, I often found my mother sitting in her favorite chair, praying or reading her Bible. TO WHOM MUCH IS GIVEN, MUCH SHALL BE EXPECTED This is a paraphrase of one of many verses I learned as a child. We have received a great heritage. May God find us faithful! Thanks, Mom! * This simple chorus was written by C. Austin Miles, who wrote many other hymns and gospel songs. Some of his best known are "Dwelling in Beulah Land," "He is Mine," "In the Garden," "If Jesus Goes with Me," "Look for Me!" "Somebody’s Praying For You," "Still Sweeter Every Day," "Win Them One by One," "A New Name in Glory," and "Wide, Wide as the Ocean." Miles lived and worked in Pitman, NJ for much of his life, commuting to his work in Philadelphia by train. He served as editor and manager of Hall-Mack Publishing Company for 37 years. When Hall-Mack merged with the Rodeheaver Company in 1935, Miles remained as editor. Miles also directed the Pitman Camp Meeting for many years and most of his songs and hymns were first sung in the Camp Meeting Pavillion. Because my mother grew up in Pitman, she was especially attached to all of C. Austin Miles' songs. ELEVEN KIDSWe were actually an even dozen kids, with six boys and six girls, but one sister, Mary, died soon after she was born. Ann was the oldest sibling and a model child in every way - at least that was the impression I had of her. She paid attention and got good grades in school, seldom misbehaved, learned to play piano and organ, sang in the church choir and received praise from all sides. It was difficult to follow in the footsteps of my older sister. During my freshman year of High School, the Principal called me aside one day for a fatherly chat. "I don't understand it," he said, "your sister is such a fine student, always behaving; but you seem to be exactly the opposite!" After a moment of silence, he asked, "Do you have any younger brothers?" "Oh yes!" I replied cheerily, "There are six boys in our family!" His response was an audible groan. I promised to try harder but before the day was over, a teacher sent me to his office to fill out another behavior report. Ann graduated from Bible College and then her problems began. Although she has seen difficult times, she never seeks the sympathy of others, but rather finds diversion by comforting those with similar problems. A generous and cheerful nature is her trademark. We nicknamed her "Butterfly" because she is always on the move and one never knows where she might land next. I was the second child and then came Helen. She was nothing like her older sister, but rather tom-boyish and especially fond of animals. Between Helen and Bob, our house was always supplied with interesting creatures which flew, crept, crawled or hung around our house. At times, the house resembled a zoo more than a home. In addition to ordinary pets such as dogs, cats, ducks, geese, cows and horses; there were owls, bats, rabbits, snakes, squirrels, skunks, raccoons, crows, frogs and turtles. When the Doctor advised my father to drink goat's milk for his ulcers, Helen thought that it would be just great to have our own goat! Pop bought a goat and Helen was elated. Her enthusiasm lasted only a few days, however. Soon I was feeding and milking the goat. The day came when our nanny gave birth to the cutest twins you ever laid eyes on. We all fell in love with the critters, but the love affair was short-lived. Pop came home from work one day and discovered that the kid goats had chewed the bark off his young fruit trees. Three of them could not be saved. While exchanging storm windows for screens (that was in the days before combination windows), the twins jumped through an open window into the house. They leaped onto tables, sofas and even managed to get up onto the fireplace mantle. We finally chased them out, but they found another open window and soon the chase was on again. It was an hour before we could finally pen them up. The kid goats' meanest trick was played on me. I usually parked my car on the road by the lake, just outside my bedroom window. One morning I awoke to the pitiful bleating of the "twins" as we called them. I looked out the window to see those little brats on the roof of my convertible, eight little legs protruding through the roof, kicking frantically to get free! That was the last straw! I quickly pulled on my jeans and ran down the stairs, determined to make mince meat of the rascals. They must have guessed my intentions, for they managed to extract themselves from their death trap before I got to them. After Helen, came David. When he was about ten, he wanted an air rifle more than anything else. My parents, however, said an emphatic "no!" to his request. But when Christmas came, there was a shiny new BB-gun lying under the tree with his name on it. His elation over the marvelous gift was not shared by my parents and they wanted to know who gave it to him. David read the tag out loud, which simply said, "To David from Santa Claus." Three decades later, the family was gathered to celebrate my parent's 50th anniversary. It was a memorable occasion and all eleven children, thirty-odd grandchildren and numerous friends were on hand to help celebrate. After the banquet, we were all seated around the tables and someone suggested telling stories from our childhood. Since most of the tales (true, false or exaggerated) were told about me, my father decided to tell one too. He began, "When David Jr. was little, he wanted a bee-bee gun, but we wouldn't give permission. But that rascal Ralph went out and bought him one for Christmas! And sly as he is, he wrote on the tag, "From Santa." Everyone laughed except me. I protested, "But Pop, I never bought David a bee-bee gun!" Now David Jr. began laughing uncontrollably. He confessed, "I bought that gun for myself, wrapped it up real pretty, put a tag on it, and placed it under the tree!" I was driving home from work in my convertible one summer day. As I turned into our driveway, I saw my brother David lying face down in the lake a few yards from shore. When I stopped the car, he was still lying motionless in the water. Not bothering to open the door (the top was down), I leaped from the car and ran to the lake as fast as my legs could carry me. Plunging into the water completely clothed, I yanked my brother's limp body out of the water. David gasped for breath and then started laughing, "I thought you would never get here..." He never finished his sentence. I was furious at getting tricked and said, "You are going to wish I never got here!" With that, I shoved him back under. Dave later joined the Army and after boot camp, received training in missiles technology at Redstone Arsenal. On one of his trips to the base, Dave was driving his bright red Austin Healy Sprite, another soldier riding with him. They took a scenic highway which had toll booths every five or ten miles. Shortly before they approached the first toll booth, they passed a car full of college-age girls who waved at them. Dave handed the toll keeper two quarters with the remark, "We're paying for the car behind us." When the surprised girls were informed of the generosity of the soldiers, they waved a friendly "Thank you." This performance was repeated at the next toll booth, but after the third toll booth, the girls didn't bother to show their gratitude. Dave noted that they drove through the fourth without stopping. When he pulled up to the next toll booth, he only gave the man one quarter and said, "You better keep an eye on that car behind us; they seem to be running toll booths!" Sure enough, the car didn't stop and set off the alarm! Some of the early guided missiles had powerful magnets in the nose cones. Dave's roommate decided to play a trick on him and fastened one of the magnets to the oil pan of his sports car. The engine wouldn't even turn over and it took Dave a while to figure out what was wrong. When he finally discovered the source of the problem, he removed the magnet and put it under his bed until he could think of another good use for it. He completely forgot that his roommate kept reel to reel tapes stored under the bed. The tapes were erased of course! David became quite skilled as a technician in the electronics field. After his release from the Army, he worked at a NASA Tracking Station on Ascension Island. He sent us photos showing himself riding giant sea turtles that had come to lay their eggs on the beach! He worked nearly three decades as CTO of Channel 10 in Philadelphia. In 1972, he developed the first fully portable TV camera, the "ENG Mini Cam." John, the fifth child, was an inventive genius, especially when it came to work. Whenever he was given a job to do, he would try to figure a way to make it easier. Once, Pop told him to go fetch firewood, so Johnny mounted an old stuffed chair on the garden-tractor and in Tom Sawyer fashion, conned neighborhood kids into loading wood onto the trailer in exchange for a ride! In 1963, John decided to wash his Volkswagen at a lake in Bridgeton. Apparently, he forgot to pull on the hand-brake and the car took its' own bath. John stood helplessly, watching his beloved "Beetle" roll into the lake. The following day, the Bridgeton newspaper reported on the incident, but another tragic news story made the main headlines. The U.S. Navy's nuclear-powered submarine, "Thresher", had sunk, claiming 129 lives. Ironically, the owner of the submerged VW and the Captain of the ill-fated submarine, were both named John W. Harvey! John was quite intelligent, but he didn't always apply himself to his studies. He had to repeat one year of High School but my parents didn't discover this fact until it was time for him to graduate! Having ten brothers and sisters, one might suppose that I would have attended many weddings, yet I was only able to get to my brother John's wedding and brother Dan’s second wedding many years later. John got married before I did and he and his wife probably wished that they had not invited me! That may be one reason that my other brothers and sisters got married when I could not attend. Being well acquainted with the potential of his five brothers, John and Carolyn decided to play it safe. Weeks before the wedding, they packed their suitcase for the honeymoon, loaded it into their VW Beetle, and hid the car in an empty garage far from Daretown. Just in case we should happen to find the hiding place, John made certain that both the car and garage were securely locked. This is precisely the kind of precaution that we expected of John. He was a careful calculator, who left nothing to chance. That is why we made a sneak copy of his car keys even before he had thought of hiding the car. He made the mistake of gloating to us that he had hidden the car where we would never find it. We almost didn't! At the wedding reception, the happy pair was opening their gifts, when the blushing bride suddenly turned white. She had just opened a small flat package while four Harvey boys strained to watch her reaction. She pulled out the license tags of their VW! John tried to comfort her by saying that the car was locked and he had the keys; at least the honeymoon suitcase would be undisturbed. This last hope was dashed when they unwrapped the spare tire! It would be difficult to tell what they might have done to us if we had not succeeded in convincing them that their car and suitcase were otherwise unmolested. We neglected to tell them that we had also opened the gas reserve switch (early beetles were not equipped with tank gauges). They ran out of gas on their honeymoon. After John came Dan. Like David and John, Dan's first car was a also a Volkswagen Beetle. A fly once flew into his car and Dan tried repeatedly to chase it out the window. When his attempts to shoo it out failed, Dan slapped at it with his hand. He missed the bug, but smashed the windshield! Dan owned numerous cars and three times as many transmissions and rear axles! During the sixties it was popular to have no hub caps, so Dan removed the wheel covers from his Mercury Comet. I put galvanized garbage can lids on the wheels and took a picture of it. I should have taken a picture of his face when he saw the car! All six boys learned the carpenter trade and Dan was no exception. Like the rest of us, he later opted for another profession and entered the real estate business. About the time Pop Harvey officially retired, Dan decided to go into the construction business after all. The fifth boy was Bob. I already mentioned that he and Helen liked animals of every kind. Bob learned the carpenter trade like the rest of the boys, but decided to become a professional beekeeper. He also kept many exotic pets like piranha fish, tarantula spiders and python snakes. His family even shared the swimming pool with a pet alligator. On one of our visits to his farm, Bob was trying to hatch out 40 python eggs in an incubator! Bob is well known from Maine to Florida for his involvement with honey bees. In 1995, he had 5,000 beehives and was producing around 270 tons of honey annually. On one hot summer day, Bob’s obsession with bees nearly cost him his life! Verna and I were newly-weds, living in a small trailer behind the Harvey homestead in Daretown. Bob chose a location only 30 feet from our trailer to open a hive and the bees were not at all happy about his meddling in their affairs. Our "Heinz 57 variety" dog, Corky, was the first victim. The poor creature came running to our trailer door with dozens of bees swarming around his head. Verna mercifully allowed Corky through the screen door and promptly received a double reward for her good deed. Corky licked her on one cheek and a bee stung her on the other! I asked Bob to please take his work elsewhere, but Bob showed no signs of relocating. When a second bee stung Verna, I became furious and went after Bob. Grabbing the nearest object I could find, a quart can of enamel, I hurled it with all my might in Bob's direction. Someone said that I even swore at him! Fortunately, I was a lousy shot or Bob ducked, but that experience really scared me. I realized that being a Christian did not automatically cause me to act like one. I could easily have become a murderer! Bob often appeared on television with his bees, and newspapers around the world have carried pictures of him along with the insects of his devotion. While reading the daily newspaper in Austria one Saturday morning, I was startled to see a picture of my sister, Ann, kissing some kind of monster! Upon reading the caption, I discovered that the "monster" was none other than my nephew and Ann's son Max, covered from head to toe with millions of honey bees! The feat netted him a place in "Guinness Book of Records" -- and one sting. Later that day, we attended the wedding of one of our Bible Institute graduates. I took the newspaper along and showed it to the students during the reception which followed. One of the students promptly asked, "Are ALL the Harveys crazy?" The third girl, Margie, was born between Christmas and New Years. Pop had a flat tire while driving Mom to the hospital and there was no air in the spare! Not desirous of giving birth to her baby on a busy highway, Mom got out of the car and tried her luck at hitch hiking. Alf Wentzell was making deliveries with his fuel oil truck and stopped to ask if he could be of any help. He agreed to make a detour to the hospital. Tim had the fortune or misfortune of being the youngest of six boys. Although he was youngest, he eventually turned out to be the biggest and perhaps the strongest of the boys. This may be no coincidence, considering what he had to contend with! When Tim was about seven, he was wistfully eyeing his big brother David's Cushman motor scooter. Dave asked if he wanted to ride it and Tim of course said, "Yes!" I was watching and as the oldest boy, should have prohibited what I knew was going to happen. But in those days, we figured that we were all indestructible! Dave set Tim on the scooter and showed him how to operate the gas. He didn't bother explaining about the brakes, since Tim couldn't reach the pedal from where he was sitting anyway. Dave aimed the scooter out the driveway and when Tim gave gas, it began to roll faster and faster in the direction of the lake. Dave thought that Tim would make a turn when he reached the road at the end of the driveway, but he was traveling too fast. The scooter shot across the road and into the lake, submerging with a big splash. Tim waded to shore while Dave rescued his Cushman scooter. Only after he started to scold Tim, did I finally intervene. I was not around for the following incident, but I heard about it from others. One hot summer day, the Harvey families (several of the married ones with their children and Pop and Mom with the ones who were still living at home) packed their swim gear and picnic lunches and headed for Ocean City. Tim (about seventeen and a husky young man) hitched Pop's motor boat to the station wagon. They put the boat in the water at Somer's Point, just outside of Ocean City, where we often ate our picnic lunch. While women prepared the meal, the boys took turns water skiing. After lunch, the boat was anchored and everyone piled in the cars and headed for the beach. After a time, Tim drove back to check on the boat. He arrived just in time to see several teenage boys vandalizing the craft. They had smashed windows in the cabin and tossed anything that wasn't fastened down into the water. They even loosened the heavy outboard motor from the transom and threw it overboard! Tim jumped in the water and swam towards the boat with strong, powerful strokes. He had almost reached the boat when the other boys spotted him. They jumped overboard and tried to escape but were no match for Tim. He soon caught them and demanded that they lift the 135 hp outboard motor out of the water and fasten it back onto the transom. Although the water was shallow, they couldn't lift the heavy motor from the bottom of the bay. Tim commanded them to get back in the boat. They had better not try to escape if they knew what was good for them. When the three teenagers saw how easily Tim lifted that heavy motor out of the water and secured it to the transom, they decided that it would be wise to comply! He held the boys until the others returned. The police came and relieved Tim of his custodial duties. The boys’ fathers had to pay for damage to the boat and motor. Grace was number 11 and Esther was the youngest sibling. Grace and Esther were the cutest little girls one could imagine and only about a year apart. Both had blond hair and lovable dispositions, but their personalities were as different as night and day. Esther loved horses while Grace preferred dolls and stuffed animals. When Esther was about three, she had difficulty pronouncing her "J"s. Someone once asked for her name and the conversation went as follows: "Hi sweetie, what's your name?" "Esther." "Esther what? Don't you have another name?" "No, my name is dis Esther." "What is your sister's name?" "Grace." "Grace what? Does Grace have a last name?" "No, her name is dis Grace." From that time on, whenever we wanted to tease the girls, we called them "Disaster" and "Disgrace." THE LAKEWe thoroughly enjoyed swimming, fishing and boating in the lake by our home. Actually, I got less pleasure from the lake than my siblings because the dam was not put in until 1956, when I was already out of High School. When I came home from work on hot summer days, I would run to my room, change into a swim suit, slide down the spiral staircase banister and make a dash for the lake. The lake was a paradise for children. Every spring there were hundreds of newborn painted turtles, no larger than a quarter that could be easily caught in a net. We used to sell them until a new law forbade keeping them as pets. There were still the large snapping turtles, which could be caught and sold to restaurants. We staged turtle races at family reunions. Each grandchild or great-grandchild got a baby turtle from the lake. At a given signal, all turtles were released on the side of the road opposite the lake. Adults cheered as their children tried to coax their turtles to go faster. Some ran pretty fast, but others stopped to stretch their necks and ask what this was all about. A few refused to come out of their shells or didn't seem to know which direction to go. Sooner or later, one of the little creatures would reach the water and the race was over. Fishermen came from as far away as Philadelphia to fish in the lake. Once, a generously proportioned local fisherman got his favorite lure snagged and asked to use my canoe to get it unhooked. I knew what would happen if he stepped into the canoe, but didn't know how to explain without offending him. I could have offered to free the lure myself, but something inside me caused me to hand him a canoe paddle. He didn't even have sense enough to get into the center of the canoe, but stepped into one end - which promptly settled to the bottom of the lake! That same "something inside me" now caused me to laugh out loud. Perhaps it was because my parents didn't like us kids to hear such language; or it might have been that "something inside me" again, which made me decide to quickly leave the scene. One summer afternoon, my youngest sister, Esther, came into the house sobbing. She said that a kid from up the road tried to take the rowboat away from her. She grabbed the oars and tried to run, but he was faster. He wrestled one oar from her hands, jammed the flat end into a crack of the dock, and with a tug, snapped it in two. We told her to let us know if he came around again. Several days later, Esther came running into the house and called, "He's here!" I quickly rounded up all five brothers and the hapless kid suddenly found himself surrounded by six giants, all staring down at him with mean looks on their faces. Escaping was out of the question. At first, he tried to deny any knowledge of the broken oar, but we asked if he was calling our little sister a liar and he decided to remember! None of us moved for a few moments. Then I said, "We have an oar here that needs a match. Do you suppose you can find us one within two days?" The boy nodded affirmatively in fear and trembling. We all took turns suggesting what we might do to him if he was unsuccessful. Since no store sells single oars, his father brought us a new pair the following day. He explained that his son was too scared and too sore to deliver them himself. One year, several rowdy youth began to make a nuisance of themselves. They bullied small children and went "skinny dipping" after midnight, keeping everyone awake. Bob's pet alligator solved the problem for us, but it cost the poor creature its life. Bob kept the young alligator in an old bath tub which was buried in our front lawn. One day it escaped into the lake and when the rowdies discovered this, they left, never to be seen again. For the rest of the summer, we -- and the alligator, had the lake all to ourselves. The poor alligator froze to death that winter. Directory: documents documents -> Concept stage documents -> Concept stage documents -> The great global switch-off documents -> Nonprofit grant application documents -> The Truth about the Rwandan Genocide documents -> Annual InStructional unit plan documents -> Chaos equipment included Download 2.2 Mb. Share with your friends:
|