| Notes |
- Second Home by Mary Kay Ward
Every neighborhood needs a Mrs. Knake. Growing up in Dormont in the mid 1940's was safe and secure. I would wander far and wide with easily available playmates, the boys of the neighborhood. We played war games and chased each other pretending we were American soldiers chasing Germans and Japs with guns. The lesser weapon I used was a cast off cap gun from my neighbor, but the boys were heavily armed with loud pretend machine guns and rifles. Patriotic fever ran high in our neighborhood. We also played football and baseball with a tennis ball in the street and went home when the street lights came on. On summer nights we could sometimes stay out a little later, and play hide and seek, or release. During long summer afternoons we would dig in the dirt around the tree in a neighbor's yard and make a pretend town. Rocks and stones were arranged for houses and a little village. My contributions to the constructions was a heavy kitchen spoon to dig deep tunnels. Some days we wandered to the woods two streets away to play with a sandwich in our pocket for lunch. We found a rope to swing across the little creek, and found flowers to pick for our mothers' kitchen tables, or May altars at school.
About 1945 my young life changed. Girl playmates arrived! The Knake family moved into the large house on the corner of our street, a large home for their growing family. This move brought a whole new perspective for my young life. The first three children were girls, and the oldest was only a year younger than I. Mary Ann, Carol, and Dorothy were instant available playmates but the best part was Mrs. Knake, their mother. I can't explain even today how it happened, but I became her "oldest daughter." The boys of the neighborhood were still friends for an occasional game of ball, but Knake's large basement or backyard was now where you would find me almost every day.
The Knake home was larger than the average Dormont home with four bed rooms and a sun porch on the second floor, and a lrage attic for sleep overs on the third floor. The house stood at the top of the hill with a lot that was surrounded by a white picket fence. A large cherry tree was in the back corner of the yard, and in my memory it was always blooming with abundant white blossoms. In the back corner of the yard was the flat roof of a garage that opened to the street below. The roof had a concrete parapet so it could be flooded with a hose to make a small wading and splashing pool on hot day. Outside the basement door was a small walled area that served as a porch. Inside the basement it was divided into two large rooms, one for play, and the other for laundry and the furnace. On Tuesdays and Fridays Mrs. Knake, and a laundress named Mary, would wash the mountains of laundry gathered from the family with homemade lye soap that had been cured in large trays. The entire basement smelled of this fresh soap.
The other area was exclusively for play. There were two rope swings that hung from the exposed rafters in opposite corners. A carpeted play area was surrounded with child proof furniture. Best of all was the player piano against the outside wall. (There was also an organ but I can't remember anyone playing it.) The piano got a real workout from me! I pumped away and sang along as the words scrolled down, "Night and day, you are the one," or " When they begine the beguime." These were my favorites, but many others were stacked and stored on the top of the piano.
We hung curtains and played dress up and put on plays. The loudest child usually claimed the starring roles. Older children also were shown preference. Mr. and Mrs. Knake would clap and applaud for our opening presentations.
The longer I played with the Knakes the more I felt like part of the family. Mrs. Knake even cut my hair one day, and I matched her real daughters, bangs and straight cut under the bowl. It was wonderful for me and I was often invited to sleep over, sometimes for two or three days at a time. With the family I piled into the station wagons to go swimming, to the park on a hot day, or just for ice cream. Most of the time we remembered to count noses before leaving anywhere. One summer night we did forget and there was Kathy, who was about four or five at the time, sitting and waiting for us all alone at Mt. Lebanon park. Luckily we missed her before it became dark.
With so many children there were many birthday parties. One year in the middle of Mary Ann's cake we discovered a table spoon that had been baked inside. Mrs. Knake just laughed and said, " I guess on of the little ones threw it into the batter when I wasn't looking."
She loved to play cards and must have been desperate for a card game because she taught me and her two older daughters to play five hundred. I was the oldest and only about nine at the time. She played with us and was patient. The cards and all games were fun. In my home, windows were washed almost weekly and were always shinning. Mrs. knake explained to my mother that twice a year was good enough, in fact, the hose sprayed on the outside was fine for a quick job. That probably explains how she had time for cards with kids.
Some times there were crises. A large section of the living room ceiling fell down when I was in the seventh grade. On that same day the young baby, Jimmy, tossed out a red tin play telephone. I was supposed to be keeping him quiet and the phone glanced off the side of my face and sliced the outer edge of my nostril. Two perfect even slices that needed only one large stich. My mother didn't drive so Mrs. Knake took me down to the doctor to be stiched. I can still hear Mrs. Knake telling my mother, "Now don't worry Kate, these things happen."
I had found a second home. I loved having so many girls to play with, or just to be with the whole family. Mrs. Knake was a busy mother, but I watched as she cared for her large family. She played cards, knitted, read books, had weekly dates with Mr. Knake, and was active at church.
When it came time for me to marry I had a dream of the future. It would be like hers. My husband and I have raised five children. Once I went to my childhood second mother and we visited as two adults. I asked her about all these childhood memories. We laughed a lot, even about forgetting Kathy as a young toddler as the park, and birthday cakes that fell. I asked her how she survived raising nine children in thirteen years. She smiled and said, "The grace of God and we stuck for bread. Our family survived because Walter and I stuck for the hard times."
Mrs. Knake lived into her nineties, still in the home of my childhood memories. What a blessing to me and my family as watching her helped shape me with courage to be a wife and mother through the "Grace of God, and a sticking for bread." Children need to be a part of a secure family and leaving in a huff because of hurt feelings wasn't an option for Mrs. Knake, a good example for me!
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1908 - 2000 (91 years)
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