Mary Malcolm Walker

When John asked his parents if it would be helpful to them for us to come and live with them, his dad was a little reluctant. After some time, though, dad agreed that it might be helpful to have us there to prepare some meals, drive them places, and help with housework and other chores. He had to assert his independence, however, one day when he told John, "You know, I've been making my breakfast since I was six years old!" John assured him that no one was going to stop him from making his own breakfast.

When dad (Norton) was six, his mother passed away. It wasn't the first tragic loss in their family. Two Decembers before, while Mary was in the hospital giving birth to Nort's younger brother Cecil, their older brother Malcolm passed away from diptheria. He was six at the time. Because he died of a communicable disease, his body had to be buried right away. By the time Mary got home from the hospital, her oldest child was buried and gone. John received Malcolm's name as his middle name.

Nort recalls Mary's passing. One late August morning, their father Albert got up as usual and began preparing breakfast for the family - Nort, now the oldest at six years, Victor, who was about 4, and Cecil, who was two years old. Albert was letting Mary sleep in a bit, as she was pregnant again and due very shortly to deliver. When Albert went to wake Mary, he discovered that she had passed away in her sleep. Nort recalls his father being gone for a bit, and when he returned to the kitchen from the bedroom, he gathered the three boys and said, "Boys, your mother is no longer with us. She has gone to live with our Heavenly Father." The infant in her womb passed, as well.

I can't tell you what Albert felt. I don't know how he managed to care for the three boys over the following days and weeks, but on July 20, 1933, Albert married Alwine Voss, a warm and loving German immigrant who raised Nort and his brothers, and with whom Albert had two more children, Ruth and Bert.

Albert kept a photo of Mary on a table, next to all the photos of the rest of the family and her name was spoken tenderly. Early in our marriage, I heard stories about Mary, and recognized the love that the family had for her. I also heard stories about Alwine, and how Nort and his brothers were bullied because their mother was German during a time when Germans were not popular in the U.S. Nort said it never bothered him that others made disparaging remarks about his stepmother. To him, she was just mother.

John and I thought it would be nice to name a daughter Mary, after Mary Malcolm Walker, but that was a tricky proposition. John's mother's father had left his wife and three daughters years before, for a woman named Mary, and despite how much Nort would have loved to have named a daughter, or have a granddaughter named Mary, it was too sore a subject to broach. We chose the name Marie, instead, for our oldest daughter as a nod to Mary, and that seemed to work out just fine.

Alwine passed in 1953, so John never knew her. I don't recall meeting Alwine's brothers Rudi or Carl Voss. Carl passed away in California shortly after John and I were married. We still treasure the set of dessert cups that Uncle Rudi gave us as a wedding present. They're just cut glass, and nothing fancy, but as I listened to John and his mom talk about Uncle Rudi as we unwrapped his gift, I knew that he was special to them, and that his welcome into the family was meaningful to them; it became meaningful to me.

These days, the annual Chaston-Voss reunion is a seamless and natural blend of these two families. There is no separation, no distinction, no question about whose children are whose. It's a family. One family, with love enough to go around.