My mother would have been 100 years old today. Happy birthday, Mom! Julia Loretta Skates, known most of her life as Loretta, was born April 5th, 1912, although for years she assumed her birth year was 1913. It wasn’t until years later when applying for Social Security and researching birth records, she found out she’d actually been born in 1912. Here was a woman who unknowingly claimed to be a year younger most of her life, unlike many women who knowingly claim youth for years.
Mom had to work from the time she left high school. In answering a written questionnaire for her 50th wedding anniversary, she listed her first paid position as - dishwasher. She also worked as a telephone operator, housekeeper, dime (you could actually buy something for 10 cents) store clerk, a waitress, and for a time as a furrier, cutting and sewing pelts together to make luxurious fur coats. I’m convinced she was one who would have taken on any job, no matter how demanding, if it meant providing for her family. She sewed for me and other family members all her life.
Dad met my mother sometime in 1938-39. Dad was working in construction and convinced her to move with him to Nebraska. They were married in North Platte on July 17th, 1939. Mom hadn’t been out of one marriage very long before she found herself in another that started out somewhat questionably. She shared with me that the night of their wedding, dad’s construction buddies threw a huge shivaree, undoubtedly involving lots of alcohol and raucous behavior. Mom wandered out of the hall and into the parking lot. She sat wearily on the running board of a car, asking herself, “What have I gotten myself into this time?” So fearful was she that she may have made a mistake, she used her own savings for weeks to buy food and necessities for their apartment. She didn’t want to ask dad for anything. He eventually realized she probably needed money from his earnings. That began a relationship that lasted for over 50 years.
While my mother’s generation was affected by World War I and prohibition in their early years, it was the Depression and World War II that had the greatest impact on their lives. World War II brought people together and made them civic-minded. That spirit was certainly part of my mother’s character. Among her papers, I found her Civil Defense Council card dated April 1942 naming her an assistant block Air Raid Warden; her United War Chest card showed a commitment to donate $12 to the fund in 1943, and her voter registration indicated an intent to cast her vote in Precinct No. 284, Multnomah County, Oregon. I also have photos of my dad in line to give blood to the American Red Cross during the early years of the war.
Dad wasn’t eligible for the military in the 40’s because he was color blind, but both he and mom did their part to support the war effort by going to work for Kaiser Company in Portland, Oregon in 1942, building ships. Brother Corky (my half-brother, Raymond Whitney) filled in more details for me:
[Mom] went to electrical school to become an electrician in the ship yards, but by the time she got out of school they did not need electricians anymore but they did need welders, so back to school for her again. This was in the 40s. She then went to work at the Swan Island yard in Portland and was a welder on the Liberty ships they were building back then. Webb was a crane operator at the same yard. She did a lot of overhead welding and that was how she got a permanent sunburn on her upper chest.
When mom became a welder, she also became a “Rosie”. When asked what historical event had a strong influence on her life, mom responded, “World War II.” During the war, thousands of women took physically demanding jobs in shipyards like Kaiser. A wayward welding spark burned a section of her throat and she wore that scar with pride for the rest of her life. In addition to work in defense factories, many white-collar positions opened up to women for the first time. A woman’s ability to excel in a man’s world challenged stereotypes and elevated her to iconic stature – Rosie the Riveter
Rosie was a woman portrayed in overalls and polka-dot bandana welding, riveting, and setting records for the speed she could produce ships and planes. By the end of the war, one quarter of all women were working. One-third of the female defense workers had previously been full-time homemakers. In addition, 400,000 women joined the military.[i]
Once I was born April 29, 1945, mom didn’t work outside the home again, unless it was to do sewing for someone or to volunteer for worthwhile causes. Her return to being a housewife was mirrored by multitudes of women at the end of the war in 1945.
Saving was very important to my mother. She may have been “just a housewife,” but she was also the keeper of our family financial records which held her meticulous pencil entries. I never asked how, but my parents owned many homes in Montana, Washington and Oregon, all of which we lived in because of dad’s nomadic career in construction and trucking. There were even times when my paternal grandparents, James and Dena Bateman, would end up living in a house across the street from us. We weren’t ever wealthy, but I suspect my mother kept a tight rein on spending. This wasn’t an easy task, since my dad also loved to buy and sell cars. The same survey asked, “What experiences/ accomplishments are you most proud of?” Mom’s response: “We have our house and cars paid for.”
Mom made all my clothes, even my high school prom gowns. She was recycling before it became popular. Christmas cards from previous years were used to decorate the current year’s presents. The Depression and having to support herself at times, had taught mom indelible lessons about frugality. While this was important to her and I knew money didn’t flow freely in our household, using money wisely wasn’t a lesson I learned early on. In fact, once I started earning my own money, I was much better at spending than saving. Mom never said a word about it. She just wanted me to be happy.
While she was a woman of few words about herself and her own needs, she was alway ready to help others and did whatever she could for her family. Even though she's been gone since 1992, I've come to appreciate her story, her strength of character, and her love for me and others in our family more than ever. On top of that, she was Rosie, the Riveter.
[1] Matilda Butler and Kendra Bonnett. Rosie’s Daughters. The “First Women To” Generation Tells Its Story. Iaso Books, 2007. p. 13.
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