Women's History Month ~ Emma Faye Laney

 You know those 1950s girls who wore Bobby Sock-wearing sweaters, saddle shoes, and peanuts in their Coca-Cola and who wanted "fun" to be their middle name? Those girls who wore their hair snipped in bobs or in a swinging ponytail made a fashion statement for sure! My mother was one of those girls. And she favored shorter hairstyles.

 Emma Faye Laney, born on the family farm near Laney Ridge Road in Barry County, Missouri, was the third daughter of Charley and Belvia (Ross) Laney. Charley worked for the Works Progress Administration on road projects. He was killed in August 1947 when a hay truck hit the car he rode in. Mom was nine years old. She forever grieved her father.

 Mom told me he teased her in a sing-song voice, “MFA, MFA.” Her name, Emma Faye, resembled the name of the Missouri Farmers Association (MFA), founded in 1914 and serving Missouri agricultural communities. In all the area’s small towns, the MFA store served everyone. When her dad teased her, she would cry, and he would swing her up into his arms and snuggle the tears away.

 Belvia, Mom’s mother, remarried in September 1949. The children were dispersed to adoptive homes. But Mom went to live with her aunt. In 1951, she became the foster daughter of Dr. and Mrs. James Holmes and their daughter, Sandra. Sandra was overcome with happiness to have a sister! Mom and Sandra were best friends, continuing their friendship into adulthood. The Holmes family was beloved in their community. James L. Holmes was a local doctor, and Mrs. Holmes was the model wife. Mom was proud to be part of their family. This is a photo of Mom and Sandra Holmes.

 School days consisted of Mom's favorite studies: Home Economics and Art Class. She was a High School cheerleader. She and her friends were typical 1950s teenagers who loved listening to the radio, parties, and running around small-town America. They wore their lipstick in outrageous reds and shiny nail polish to match. Their rouge pots held perfectly pink blush. One thing is for sure, my mother rocked her lipstick. I have many photographs of her and her friends in their zany, wild, wonderful teenage days.

During each Halloween, the local downtown businesses participated in storefront window painting. The high school kids worked in groups to paint the windows. Prizes were awarded to the best-dressed windows. Mom and her group of painters won multiple times each year. Halloween celebrations included a street dance, a carnival, games, and food galore.

 At the 1953 Halloween Street dance, Mom met Ronnie Utter, and sparks flew. It was love at first sight. They married that December at a local church. They made their home in the neighboring town where Ronnie's folks lived. I was the first-born child and the only girl. They had three more children, all boys.

An unfortunate event occurred in 1960. Dad asked for a divorce. Like a slap in the face, his request hit Mom hard, and she fought it. She was pregnant, and the baby was due in October. The court made them wait until after the baby was born. And to her remorse, several months later, the divorce was final. He got what he wanted. Dad worked in construction, and at that time, the oil and gas pipeline and road district projects were abundant in our nation. He married the woman, and they had two children.

Mom remained at home, living with Dad's grandmother, Ollie. Mom was a twenty-four-year-old divorced woman with four young children. In the 1960s, people frowned on women in that category. Life was indeed hard during that time.

 My mother remarried Frank Bartkoski in 1961 and moved back to her hometown. A few years later, they had one son. Mom was the model housewife of the 1960s. She kept a tidy house, and she cooked scrumptious meals. She helped the other mothers at the elementary school. She was a good seamstress and she sewed and sold homemade Barbie Doll clothes. During the elementary school programs and events, she sewed costumes and volunteered her time doing whatever was needed. In later years, she worked as an Avon lady. I remember her Avon samples and products were stored in a pink hardshell case. My brothers and I loved opening that little case. Avon cosmetics were tucked inside, their colors and fragrances tempting us like hard candy at Christmas. 

Throughout the years, Mom stayed in touch with her family, especially her brothers and sisters. Through the years, she organized reunions and get-togethers. Her mother and brothers and sisters were always welcome at our house, and we visited them often in their homes. We grew up with our cousins, and memories were definitely made.

 During summers, my brothers played Little League baseball. We attended all the games. Each Sunday, we were in church. I was a Girl Scout, and my brothers were Boy Scouts.

 Gardening was a unique talent for Mom. She exercised her green thumb, and the garden was alive with all varieties of vegetables. A long row of glorious Zinnias and Marigolds divided the garden. She told us the flowers kept the bugs away from the veggies. Of course, she was right.

 The bounty from the vegetable garden was stored in glass Ball canning jars. The kitchen was a hot mess with Mom and her canning adventures each summer. One year, she had so many Rutgers tomatoes that she learned to make homemade ketchup. The ketchup was delicious, but she never made it again as it took bunches of tomatoes, and processing those tomatoes was a vast and exhaustive chore. Mom loved making blackberry and strawberry jam and jelly.

 I was her sidekick. Where she was, I was. Whatever she attempted, I was beside her learning. She taught me all the secrets to keeping a house clean, washing laundry, hanging laundry on the clotheslines, ironing (sprinkling the clothes and rolling them tight), and cooking and canning.

Mom and Frank divorced in 1971. She found an excellent job working as a Line Supervisor at a poultry plant in another small town. She was loved by her line workers, and she stood beside them, doing as much work as they did. During that time, she bought her first home and embraced life. She never married again.

 Unfortunately, Mom suffered debilitating strokes, which led to early retirement and adapting to the new way of life. The last stroke ended her freedom of living alone. The doctors insisted that she be monitored day and night. She lived in the nursing home until she died in 2013. 

 Through the happiness and hardships of life, Emma Faye Laney never gave up. She stood for her beliefs and taught her children how to live right. I am my mother's daughter. She made me strong and industrious, learning to survive in the world. I celebrate my mother this month during Women's History Month.

  Emma Faye Laney was a fun-loving Fifties Girl.