Iva Belle Reid Bancroft was the most influential woman in my life. She was my mother. Her influence was the kind everyone wants. I knew she loved me unconditionally, there was nothing she wouldn’t do for me, and she treated everyone with kindness and concern. I remember riding in the car with her and someone whizzed past, cutting us off, and instead of getting angry, she thoughtfully said, “Maybe they have a sick child and are rushing to the hospital.” Mom always thought the best of everyone!
Mom was born in Shawnee, Oklahoma on January 10, 1897. It wasn’t the best of circumstances. Her father, Bert Reid married her mother, Stella May a few months after getting her pregnant with Ferne. A year later when Stella was pregnant with Iva, Bert took off. He was a restless cowboy. Stella was young and moved back home to raise her girls. Bert’s parents were disgusted with their son and had Stella and the girls move in with them.
Ferne and Iva
Iva’s childhood was full of comparisons. One set of grandparents favored cute, little round faced Ferne with her curly hair and winsome ways. The other grandparents saw the beautiful spirit within little Iva. She was tall and thin with straight hair but smart, sensitive and kind. Ferne was the social butterfly, out-going and popular but her self-centered nature never served her well. Mom was quiet, shy and developed a few very deep friendships. She was the peacemaker and everyone loved her. But the comparisons between the sisters left Iva with a feeling of inferiority.
Mom carried this comparison in her heart all of her life, not recognizing her own deep beauty inside and out.
As Iva neared her teen years, her mother Stella, married a quiet, reserved man, William Kelley. Two half sisters and brother were added to the family. In her teen years, the family moved to Pasadena. Mom attended Pasadena High School and was a good student. At 19, Mom met a tall, handsome young man a year older than herself and fell in love! Homer Miller Bancroft was a fun-loving extrovert and their differences worked well for them. They had to marry secretly because Dad’s mother, Addie Bancroft was domineering and didn’t want any of her children to ever leave her. Iva endured her difficult mother-in-law and eventually won her over.
Mom and Dad moved a lot during the years when Dot and Bud were young. Daddy was ambitious and a talented commercial artist, and was always looking for a better job with more money. He finally realized his dream and opened “Bancroft’s Sign Shop” in Compton.
The depression left a lasting impression on Mom. She had always been frugal with money, but during those years when Dad’s business was barely bringing in enough money to pay the rent, Mom was able to make do on practically nothing. Dot remembers their diet mainstay of Dog Bone Soup. In those days, the butchers kept meaty bones and gave them to people for their dogs. Mom would pretend she had a dog and get the bones for free. She boiled the bones, added carrots, onions and celery and made dumplings to help feed the family. From that point on, Mom never wanted to be poor again and saved money carefully.
The family struggled during those depression years. Mom was the one who budgeted the money and worried about the future. In the midst of their struggles, Mom discovered she was pregnant. Her stress level was unbearable. How could they bring another child into this financial dilemma? But Mom was strong and tightened the purse strings even more.
On Wednesday, September 20, 1933 at 9:10 AM in a small Altadena hospital, I emerged into the world. Mom and Dad were elated. By now Dad’s sign business was picking up and Dot and Bud were 16 and 14 respectively, and able to help out more. My mother told me stories of how she put me in the baby buggy out under the trees and I would lie there for hours, watching the leaves gently move in the breeze. My love for trees began early.
When I was 2, my dad made a sign for a beauty college but they couldn’t pay him. Mom decided to take the course to settle the bill. She graduated and opened her first beauty shop in our living room. She saved and added more and more operators until she outgrew that shop. We then moved to Temple City where she opened a Beauty Shop in our home again. A few years later, she had saved enough money to buy a a store building with an apartment above and room for my Dad’s sign shop in the back. It was a smart move.
My first real home in Temple City.
When I turned 13, my mom wanted us to live in a real house so I could be a normal teenager. We moved to a lovely home and I finally felt like I could fit in with other girls. I went to Jr. High School and met friends I know to this day, by riding the bus to school. My mom always had my best interests at heart.
I wrote this poem about Mom after her death at age 91. I think it says it all.
Remembering Mom…
My tiny hand tightly clutching her baby finger,
Fearing losing her in the vastness of the store.
Walks to the old stone library,
picking out books between finger waves.
Picking sweet saucer peaches in the hot summertime,
juice running down our chins as we laugh together.
Mom pulling weeds, making our garden grow,
eating fresh tomatoes with a salt shaker in hand.
Reflections of Mom in the mirror,
bent over, combing customers hair.
Seeing Mom lost in day dreams
wondering where she was,
worried about Dad’s gambling?
concerned about my safety?
She never complained
she worked hard and saved
always saved – secret accounts.
Things would be better some day
and they were!
She made it happen…Yes!
I admire her strength.
Reading Readers Digest together
laughing at the jokes
til our cheeks hurt
we couldn’t stop
our giggles were contagious!
Shopping with Mom in Alhambra
buying freshly baked macaroons at Woolworths
eating the warm cookies from the crisp, white sack
Pasadena shopping trips
meant eating chicken pot pies
in a tiny bakery on Marengo
after the stores closed.
Watching “I Love Lucy” on our first TV
Laughing together at their antics
Mom always made good decisions
She tried to tell me not to buy the plaid coat
But I knew better
Too soon I tired of the many colors
Mom always made good decisions.
She never thought she was pretty
with her twinkling blue eyes
and ready sweet smile
I thought she was beautiful.
Smart, oh so smart, my Mom
a financial whiz!
Wise but quiet in her convictions.
She always put others first.
Their needs, their wishes were always first
She never hurt anyone
Kindness and goodness she wore as a mantle.
Mom was always there for me.
No matter when, no matter what.
Mom was a “saver”
She saved money, wrapping paper, leftovers,
buttons, chicken wishbones, string, books.
Mom saved me from harm.
At 91 Mom went to heaven
Yet her spirit is still with me
Someday I’ll see her again
and we will laugh until our cheeks hurt.
Donnalyn Yates
Christmas 1997
I love this story! I miss Gram… she did always love to giggle with you. I have so many fond memories of her… coming over to stay and we made cranberry sauce together and ate it for every meal that weekend… she’d smile and wink and say ‘cranberries for breakfast?’ We laughed and acted like to naughty children… she had a great sense of humor!
You didn’t mention who the other Kellys were (I forget)
(You should also post a pic of the family tree!)
The other Kelley’s were Emil, Ruth and Faye who passed away in her 50’s. Thanks for your comments.
The only problem with this story is that it’s too SHORT! I want more. Your loving words are spot on!
Like you, I have the most wonderful memories of my Grandmother. I remember when I was a child, she’d come to visit our family and would always bring little treats . . . almost always chocolate-covered graham crackers (which I love to this day and always think of Grandmother when I see them), a pack of gum or a candy bar or two. Remember the divinity, fudge and fondant-stuffed dates she’d make at Christmas? They were delicious and made us feel so loved. And how she never came out of her bedroom in the morning until her bed was made and she was dressed and her hair fixed? I lived with her for about eight months and we had the best times. We’d play games and she always won when we played Scrabble. I think she would have loved playing Scrabble on the computer.
Grandmother would tell me that she was going to throw away my shoes if I didn’t put them away, so when she left her house shoes under the kitchen table one time, I put them in the wastebasket. She laughed about that for years!
Not a day goes by that I don’t miss her.
Your “Remembering Mom . . . ” poem is beautiful!