Louis Locker & Stephanie Schuster
The following recollections are from Mary Kaiser Conard, written in 1984 -1988, she describes her memories of her maternal Grandparents as well as her mother and each of her Aunts and Uncles. Please do not copy these or otherwise distribute them without permission from Mary Kaiser Conard.
AUNT FANNIE
From this lovely lady, I learned about granulated dishes, false teeth and seeds in salami. It was at her house in the country that I experienced a funeral for the first time. She with poise and dignity, laid her husband, Uncle Lou to rest...she was 36... I was four, and my woolen dress itched, and I asked, "Why do they cry."
There was always a smile of welcome whenever we came ... any time. She cared for Grandma over the winters when a slip and fall on the ice out on the farm could be dangerous. Her neat home in Ellis was so inviting. She loved and could make the best coffee I ever fasted. I was about eight when she was at our house for dinner, and rinsed her dentures. We kids pushed and pushed like she did, but couldn't get our teeth out, and we knew that she had some kind of magic in there. For a champion dish-breaker, those granulated dishes she had sure sounded like the real ticket.
She didn't coin the phrase, "I'd rather be an old man's sweetie than a young man's fool " but used it, when at 19 she married Uncle Lou (Brother to Aunt Mary's husband, Uncle Joe Locker) who was 17 years older than she. She raised four super nice children; Louise, Blanche, Frances and Arthur alone.
About the salami? We were at her house one summer day when she sent Arthur, my sister Frances and I to the grocery store for salami for lunch. I'd never eaten salami before, and encountered a peppercorn. She must have seen the surprised look on my face, because she said, "If you don't like the seeds, pick them out. " Logical of course ... How often we put up with the peppercorns of life, simply because they are "there".
I remember her hair as being brown, and I can't remember her wearing it any way except in two braids, wrapped around her head like a regal crown.
She was my sister, Frances' favorite Aunt, and I think I know why. Frances, forever the little peacemaker, didn't have a husband for Daddy to get into one of his loud "debates" that the Schuster men and in-laws always seemed to indulge. She said one time, "At Aunt Fanny's it's nice. Daddy goes over and argues with Uncle Jake, and Mom and Aunt Fanny talk about quilts and stuff, talk Dutch and laugh."
In later years Uncle Paul Schuster made his home with her. Her last days were spent in a wheelchair, a victim of a stroke. Her daughter wrote that even after the stroke she remained bright and alert, cared for by Louise (who was by this time herself a widow), and occasionally by daughter Blanche. She was 89 when she passed away last January 1988.
One more little story, then I'll move on. In the back yard, back to back with hers, lived a boy who was handicapped. He couldn't talk nor walk and spent his days hitching his chair up and down the back sidewalk and jabbering. We gawked through the fence. Seeing other children, he hitched his chair towards us jabbering his own kind of communication. We raced into the house to tell Aunt Fanny. She set us down, and explained that we were not to mock or taunt him ... that he was a Child of God, just a little different. From this lovely lady, I learned compassion.
Written by Mary (Conard) Kaiser - 1984