LU VK
The
New Year's Eve
Well Never
Forget
.? iff. i" t fj At i4 V If V&TZJLr y-JS k.tJ&.
. 1A 'i -
ILLUSTRATION T PUCCI
Bobbye staggered to the phone. She was barely able
to shout "Help!" to the operator, then she fainted.
Two women and three smaJJ
children are alone in a house with a
"killer" you'd never suspect
By MRS.
CLARA DETJEN
as told to
George J. Jaffe
I'm thankful that I'm alive to see another New Year
come in. Last year, I almost didn't make it.
On Dec. 17, 1962, my husband Robert and I left Melbourne Beach, Fla.,
for our new home in Ginger Blue, Mo. Our daughter Bobbye; her hus
band Al Huff; and their three small children came along to help.
We rode in two cars. Near Ozark, Ala., the car my husband and son-in-law
were driving went over a fairly steep embankment. Fortunately,
no one was injured. But the trailer the car had been pulling was smashed
beyond repair, and some of our furniture was damaged.
My husband hired a hauler to deliver the things he couldn't carry with
him. On Dec. 27, the delivery man arrived in Ginger Blue with our suit
cases, furniture, and Christmas toys. Our refrigerator was damaged ; but
we needed it, so we connected it anyway. Then Bobbye and I sat up until
3 a.m. putting broken toys together. By not turning on the radio, we had
kept the children from learning that Christmas had passed!
By 6 a.m. of the 28th, the youngsters awoke with shouts of "Get up.
Santa was here last night!" Since the men had returned to Florida be
cause of their jobs, there were just we women and the children to cele
brate our belated Christmas. We gathered in the kitchen because it was
the warmest room. It was a happy day; the only sour note was sounded
by the refrigerator it was making an unusually loud noise.
For some reason, all of us had headaches by evening. A neighbor who
dropped by said we probably had a touch of the flu that was going around.
But headaches or no headaches, I insisted we spend part of each day out
doors exploring our new surroundings. I'm a bug on exercise; looking
back, this probably helped save our lives.
When my daughter and I went to bed on New Year's Eve, we had made
up our minds to take the children to a doctor by Jan. 2. But that night
they seemed to be sleeping soundly. Robbie, G, Kenny, 5, and Dorrie, 4,
were on cots in one bedroom. My daughter slept in the second bedroom,
and I in the third.
AT 4:50 new year's morning, I was suddenly awakened by Kenny.
Xi. "Dome's vomiting all over her bed, Granny. I don't feel so good,
either, and I can't wake Mommy !"
I tried to get up but the instant I was on my feet I collapsed to the
floor. Half-conscious, I whispered, "Kenny, try to wake your mother."
But soon Kenny was trying to arouse me again.
"Mommy won't wake up! Mommy won't wake up!" he whimpered.
Somehow, I dragged myself across the floor. Fighting to keep conscious,
I shook her as I moaned, "Get up, Bobbye! I'm going to faint!"
"Faint" was the magic word that saved us. Kenny had seen people faint
on television, and he knew what to do he went all over the house open
ing windows! Each time I came to, I told him, "Put wet cloths on every
one's head," which he promptly did, using everything in reach: under
shirts, towels, Dorrie's dresses. Carried away by his role as rescuer,
Kenny even began throwing glasses of water on us! It was this that
finally roused his mother.
Bobbye slowly got up and staggered to the phone. It's a crank-type
phone on the wall. She was able to reach the operator and shout, "Help!"
But then she fainted and, in falling, ripped the phone off the wall.
Luck was with us, however. Mrs. Jewell Butts, the telephone operator,
roused her son Gene, and he drove six miles to our home to investigate.
He found Bobbye unconscious on the front lawn; she had tried to crawl
to a neighbor's home.
Carrying Bobbye into the house, he discovered that Kenny was the
only one conscious. Since our phone was useless, he rushed to awaken the
Ed Clock family, who called the medical center. Mrs. Clock and her daugh
ter Linda came to our aid immediately. Both are registered nurses, and
they gave us artificial respiration until the ambulances arrived.
What had almost killed us? The damaged refrigerator! From the acci
dent en route, it developed a slow Freon gas leak, which had been poison
ing us for. four days.
What had saved us? Two things: the grace of God and the alertness
of little Kenny who, at 5, was a man-size hero.
R:
No, this is not the beginning of
an igloo but a snow fort fash
ioned by a fun-loving dad and
daughter team. Scene was pho
tographed by Viricnne Lapham.
Family Woolcly
Dectmber2$. 1963
LEONARD S. OAVIDOW ;'rr.iVl ami nMMrr
WALTER C. DREYFUS ,Lorile I'nblMrr
PATRICK E. O'ROURKE KxrrKlirK Vt'rr- Prraidmt and Advertiiina Director
WIUIAM V. HUSSEY Advrrtitint) Managrr
MORTON FRANK Director of '(.!.. Nrfationi
Advvrliting offktt 179 N. Michigan Ave, Chicago, til. 60601
Editotial oHic.: 60 E. 36th St., Nw York, N.Y. IOO?7
Butirtctt office: 1737 S. Indiana Ave, Chicogo, III. 60616
ERNEST V. HEYN KdHor-in-Chief
BEN KARTMAN Krimlicc KrfHor
ROBERT FITZOIBBON .Waniging Editor
PHIUIP DYKSTRA Art lirrrlor
MEIANIE DE PROFT Food Editor
Rotolvn Abrcvava, Ardcn Eid1l, Hal London,
Jock Ryanj Peer J. OppvnrMimtf, Hollywood.
l I'M. PROCESSING AND BOOKS, INC., Chicogo. III. All ilghn cmrvtd.