Newlywed Love (#93)

Posted on October 9, 2017 by Margaret

August 31, 1970

After an exhilarating first day with my kindergarteners, I was unprepared for what I found when I walked into the apartment. Nate was on the phone in a highly stressed conversation. The discussion was heated, and I couldn’t figure out who might be on the line with him.

He nodded at me when I came in, but his expression of anger didn’t change. As I put my things down, he said, “But you can’t do that! It just isn’t fair!” I knew he must be talking to someone connected with his paper route, probably a disgruntled, non-paying customer.

Since the very beginning Nate had received several phone calls a day, each with a complaint. “My paper was damp.” Or, “My paper fell from the delivery tube.” Or, “Why can’t you deliver the paper to my porch?”

The complaints never stopped, but worse than that, after many weeks of faithful, timely deliveries, Nate had earned precious little money.

As he continued on the phone, I walked up behind him and put my arms around his waist – always magical for us both. But today it didn’t work. As the conversation ended, he banged down the phone and turned around.

“A customer?” I said, stepping back.

“Boss-man.”

“About what?”

Once again Nate was behind in paying the Courier office for his newspapers since so many customers didn’t pay him. The money from paid accounts went toward our bills, but that meant falling behind with the office. And this time his boss made a threat.

“You owe us $170, buddy, [$1100 today] and if you don’t pay up, we’re going to take bond card action on you.”

I wasn’t sure what that meant, but whatever it was, it made Nate furious. “If they pull a stunt like that,” he said, “it could prevent me from joining the Bar Association or something worse, down the road.”

It was shocking to hear they had that kind of power over him when nothing his boss had promised about the job had come to be. “I just want to quit,” he said, his shoulders slumping in defeat.

“Well,” I said, “I’ll make some coffee, and let’s talk about it. Don’t worry. We’ll figure it out.”

He told me he’d tried to give blood again for the $25, but the clinic had turned him down, saying they had a full supply at the moment. That meant I couldn’t give either.

As we talked we focused on the question of quitting and decided to wait a day or two before deciding. That night I wrote about it in my journal:

I don’t know whether to encourage and urge enthusiasm to forge ahead, or to sympathize and urge to quit and “not think about it.” I wonder about all of this.

Nate didn’t eat much dinner and was up and down all night stressing about how to end the nightmare. Watching him suffer convinced me he should give notice and quit – though we’d still have to find a way to pay the $170.

“My inward parts are in turmoil and never still; days of affliction come to meet me.” (Job 30:27)

Newlywed Love (#85)

Posted on September 30, 2017 by Margaret

August 10, 1970

My parents were on vacation in Ontario, Canada on my 25^th birthday, but during that week we received a letter from Mom waxing eloquent about my birth. She had once told me that her labor and delivery had been “a trip to hell’s door,” so after hearing that, I didn’t ask any more questions.

In her letter, however, it was all sweetness and light. She was writing from Canadian Keswick, a Christian conference grounds popular with Moody Church folk and others, where physical and spiritual refreshment were guaranteed.

The speakers there were well-known preachers who didn’t just talk from behind pulpits but mingled with guests at mealtimes and during recreational activities. As much as Mom was relishing the week, she was missing her home, her church, and mostly her family.

Her letter to me was addressed, Dear Baby Ann, the sentimental nickname she reserved for me. And hopefully you can read it. She wrote,

Twenty-five years ago tonight, I was at sewing club eating…..

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I was gratified to know that my arrival into the family hadn’t been only a trip to hell’s door but that there had been some “joy and light” in it, too.

“The generation of the upright will be blessed.” (Psalm 112:2)

Newlywed Love (#83)

Posted on September 26, 2017 by Margaret

August 7, 1970

By the end of the week, my summer school commitments had come to an end. No more student teaching or seminars, and I was one step closer to official certification. Despite my initial bad attitude, I’d learned a great deal and was eager to try it all out on my kindergarteners when the school year kicked off after Labor Day.

Nate’s summer wasn’t going as well. The paper route was an increasing burden, and because of it, he was behind in his law classes. “I have to eliminate something,” he said. “I’m just not sure what.”

Being hard-up for money helped make the decision. We still had hope that if he kept the paper route, many of his customers would eventually pay-up, allowing us to become solvent again. By now he was owed $500, a sizeable fortune.

And so he dropped one of his classes, a disappointment to him and also to me, since it meant his fall semester would be heavier. But dropping a class wouldn’t harm his record, and rather than doing poorly in both, it would be better to do well in one.

Since my schedule was being freed up, I took over his billing nightmare for the route, figuring out what each customer owed, writing out the envelopes, and putting them in order according to Nate’s 60-mile route. Because organizational chores were rock-bottom on my skill-set list, it took till 3:00 AM to get the job done the first time.

Nate kept pestering people to pay their bills and was gratified when any of them came forth with any amount at all. But by the end of the week we were still in debt for newspapers and rubber bands – a total wash for 5 weeks of labor.

Being responsible only for his Estate Planning class, though, turned out to be satisfying for him, and he was able to catch up — confident he would bank an “A”.

At the end of the week we got word that Bervin, Mary, and my brother Tom were all coming to Champaign for my birthday (August 8). We loved having company and knew their visit would be a joy. Bervin had just secured his pilot’s license, so they planned to rent a plane and fly down – a thrilling development! We would be at the small Champaign airport to pick them up.

Nate’s family called too, saying they’d love to come for Nate’s birthday the following week (August 18) – his parents and brother Ken. So, with all these reasons to celebrate, we drove to nearby Lake of the Woods where the two of us picnicked, sunned, and swam, letting all the woes of the week wash away.