I was really blessed, as the twelveth child of George and Ida Kaler Helle. Before me were Lloyd, Royle, Joe, Delbert, Don, Ethel, Walter, Sheldon, Verle, Gene, Gail, then me, and tagging along was my sister, June, the thirteenth child.

I was asked to write about some of the things I remember about myself and my family when growing up. Well, when you've grown up in a family as terrific as mine, "I" could write a book. We had the best parents in the world and the best brothers and sisters.

As I write this I've had fifty seven years to enrich our relationship. It has only improved through the years. It's deepened as we've experienced joy and sorrow, births and deaths, marriages and a few divorces along the way.

Every birth is rejoiced by all, (and believe me, this family has grown and grown.) Every death is shared sorrow by all. The love, closeness, and loyalty are still there so I guess we were all kicked by the same mule.

As we've often told our mates, "Our parents did not have to correct us. We were good kids." Needless to say, they do not always agree with us.

I was nic-named, "Miss Chicago" by my older brothers because I had a fiery temper. I think I had to have one so I wouldn't get lost in the shuffle. With those ten older brothers, I think I did anyway. I was so tiny people would have missed me except for my big black eyes.

I remember my first few years of childhood growing up on the farm. There were thirteen children, mom and pop, and my maternal grandmother, all living under crowded but happy conditions.

Grandma, whom June and I slept with, had a fatty tumor on the nape of her neck. On cold wlnternights we used to take turns warming this tumor with our hands.

Pop, a German, was probably one of the most gentle loving pops in the world. He never spanked a one of us, but then, "We were good kids." Now, mom always kept a couple switches in the corner.

Mom and Pop must have had cast iron nerves. We had a long dining room table. It had to be to seat fifteen of us. My younger sister, four or five brothers and I used to play, "Bear Around the Table." We'd chase around and around that table whooping and hollering. One was always the bear chasing the rest of us. It was a noisy game but usually tired us out to that we went right to sleep at bedtime.

Several of us write. Many of us dabble in poetry and there is an abundance of musical talent in the family.

We always had a parlor. In this parlor was a piano. On winter nights mom played the piano, pop played the fiddle and most of us sang. So many lovely memories. Popcorn, neighbors coming over with their instruments, my older brothers playing their musical instruments. More memories.

Delbert played the violin, Royle, just about any instrument, Don played the fiddle with such determination - he wasn't the greatest - but he loved it. Walter, one of the younger five played an accordion and harmonica. Verle played the violin and in highschool Gail played a horn. When I was in high­school, I was a drum major, twirled the baton some, and also led the band in all parades. At home I played the piano.

I'm alittle ahead of my story so back to my childhood. I remember tramping the farm with my brothers. One time they told me this empty tank in the pasture had little men living in it. If I was to watch it, I'd see them come out. Well, I watched for hours one day and they never came out. I think I was a bit gullible.

As a young man, my brother, Royle took up magic tricks. He showed me how he could swallow a ball bearing, then pull it out of his neck. I watched him for a while then told him I knew how he did it. He gave me the ball bearing - I swollowed it - then tried to pull 1t out of my neck. It just would not come out. Mom was pretty mad and I think Royle quit doing magic tricks after that.

I was given a lamb to raise when I was about four years old. It's mother had rejected it. I named him Jimmy, raised him on the bottle, and as he grew he followed me everywhere. One day Lloyd said, "Charlotte, we're going to cut Jimmy's tail off today. I absolutely refused to allow it! All day I guarded him zealously. Late in the afternoon, Ethel and I took a walk down to the yard, sat in the shade, and of course I had drug Jimmy along. Ethel and I got to talking and momentarily I forgot Jimmy. I jumped up remembering him but it was too late. Jimmy's tail was dripping blood with Lloyd standing beside him.

Today I realize it had to be done but I had nothing to do with Jimmy from that day on. I had completely rejected him. He was put out with the other sheep and eventually sold. I really must have been a stubborn little kid.

I started first grade when I was five years old. We walked about a mile a day to a little red school house. I walked with my older brothers but one day Gail and I were lagging about a hundred feet behind them. A neighbor came along, passed by us, but picked up the older boys. Gail, always a good kid, went on to school, but I turned around and went back home. That day I found out why mom had those switches. She whipped me several times trying to get me to go on to school but I refused to budge. Mom gave up and let me stay home.

These little gems show I was always stubborn. I didn't realize it then but it's no wonder today my husband tells people I am stubborn. I guess I'm too old to change now.

When I was about six years old my cousin, Mabel and I would walk around cow pastures and tramp in the fresh manure barefoot. We thought this was lots of fun.

June, two and a half years younger, was just the opposite of me. She and Ethel looked more like our pop. June was blond with hazel eyes and Ethel was fair with blue eyes. When I was ten and June was eight she already weighed two pounds more than me. June was witty, whereas I had to rely on my temper or stubborness. June was sweet, lovable, and cuddly, made friends easily. I used to envy her.

After we left the farm and moved to town, we walked to school. I was a day dreamer and while walking along one day, I walked across the tracks in front of a train. I was day dreaming, of course. June, always alert, waited till the train passed. After that, mom used to tell June, "Take care of Charlotte so she doesn't get run over." Obviously, that didn't go over to big as June was in the second grade and I was in the fifth.

On Valentine's Day I would recieve a normal amount of valentines, but by this time two little boys were in love with June. One's name was Tommy, the other was Melvin. After school, in our door way we found two valentines to June from Melvin - an hour later, two from Tommy. The next day, three from Melvin and a little later three from Tommy. This went on for about three days. Finally, Melvin brought a whole shoe box full of valentines and deposited them at our door, "To June, from Melvln." That ended the war. I do not know if either boy declared their love verbally.

One sad summer when June was eight and I was ten, we came down with sore throats and high temperatures. Mom called, the nice young doctor in our town. The doctor came everyday. We lay sharing a bed as our devoted mother took care of us. Several times mother would ask the doctor, " Are you sure it isn't diphtheria?" He always reassured her it was not.

Finally, one day we felt better, but we had been down so long. We got up and played with our dolls and dishes. After awhile, June said," I'm tired, I'm going back to bed." I was frustrated but she went back to bed anyway. She never got up again. The next day she went to the hospital. As near as I can remember she only lived one day. Our illness was diagnosed as "Diphtheria!"

Those two little boys who sent her valentines would only come as far as the yard. They would not come in to see their little friend laid out in the parlor in her pink chiffon dress.

Mom never got over June's death. I don't believe pop ever did either. I guess, even after twelve children, the baby of the family has a special place in people's heart. June was special! She was so bright and loving that I'm sure she was a favorite with all of the family. I have to admit there had been times in her eight short years that I felt envious but I missed my little playmate. Yet today. I realize many years later how much richer a life I would have had if this child with the beautiful spirit would have lived.

Walter married about the time of June's death. Lloyd, Royle, Joe, Delbert and Ethel were all married previous to this time. This left the five younger boys and Don, as well as me at home. The folks moved into a house at the west end of Wyoming.

Gail and I, eighteen months apart in age, were really close. We went to highschool together. Verle and Gene were both gentle loving boys. As little girls, June and I often declared we were going to marry Gene when we grew up.

Verle was one of those handsome-dashing young men, black eyes, gay, and charming. He had alittle more of a temper than Gall and a little more yet than Gene. Verle had a good friend, Bus White. They were always playing jokes - never any harm done - a gag here a joke there. They had a good time.

Sheldon married and so had Don. Hazel Hendrick, Sheldon's wife, had a couple of brothers who played in a band with Verle. Verle played the mouth harp. Bob and Verle both played the violin and Elmer played the drums. Bob was a good kid but Verle and Elmer were mischievous. He always say Verle was led astray by Elmer but Hazel says it was vice-versa. Really, they never got into trouble, just clean fun.

Well, Gail married his highschool sweetheart. I married Harrison Osborn. Verle and Gene went into the Service as World War II had started." Eventually, Gail went too. All three came back although dad had died in 1943.

Our childhood was over. A very memorable childhood - eating eggs by the dozen at Easter, home made rootbeer in the basement, pop trading lumber for sorghum, home made clothes, hair put up on rags for curlers, going barefoot on the farm, milking cows, dad on the threshing runs, big meals by the women for the threshing crew, home made ice cream, listening to Joe Lewis on the car radios with the brothers and friends, charivaree when Don got married, the friends we made through out our school years.

Yes, it has been a great family and a grand life! Today, 1979 I've lost besides June, two beloved brothers, Don in 1961 in a tragic accident and Royle in September 1979.

We have lost several nieces and nephews, even mom is gone, but as long as some of us are still here they are all in our hearts and our memories.

Yes, Our childhood is over, living in our memories where they still burn bright.

- Charlotte Helle Osborn

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