Butts and Ashes: Aunt Jeannette and the First Sylvia Angela Walter

My Aunt Jeannette (Regina Natala) was the oldest child of my grandparents, John and Corina Walter. She was born in Switzerland in 1898 and lived to the age of ninety-five. Aunt Jeannette was twenty-three years older than her youngest sibling, my mother, Bernice, but that never interfered with the close bond between them. These are but a few of the many memories I have of Aunt Jeannette.

Aunt Jeannette was married to Uncle Tony although I never knew him. He had died by the time I was one year old. I've heard stories about him throughout my lifetime regarding his harshness with my aunt and their three children. The problem with stories passed down however is, it's hard to know where the line between fact and fiction lies. For that reason, I won't repeat what I've heard. I'll only write what I actually know. That's full of my own imagination enough as it is.

Aunt Jeannette and Uncle Tony were married forty-one years and had three children. I have some great stories about my cousins as well, but I'm saving those for another day. My aunt and uncle opened three California drive-in movie theaters back in the 1940's. One in Salinas, one in Santa Cruz and one in Sacramento. I spent many summers "working" the snack bars in Salinas and Santa Cruz, if you call making pizzas, eating popcorn and flirting with boys with my cousins work. It was pretty great to be a dumb kid and have all the freedom we had to run amuck all over those drive-ins. It was a different world then and always felt safe. We were never afraid and I'm grateful I grew up when I did.

My Aunt Jeannette lived in the same house in Salinas from early on in her marriage until she died. I believe the house is still owned by her grandchildren. I loved that house so much. It was very similar to our house in South Gate but bigger. Beautiful Spanish stucco and red tile roof, with arched windows. There was a courtyard like you see in Europe and Aunt Jeannette always had it full of the most beautiful plants and flowers. Inside, there was an interior back porch with stairs leading to the basement, a kitchen and dinette with a built in corner china closet, a formal dining room and living room, three bedrooms and a bathroom. Here's the really cool part. Nothing ever changed in the house. I mean, nothing. The way it looked and was furnished is exactly the way it looked and was furnished at the end of her life. I always felt like I was on a movie set when I stayed at Aunt Jeannette's house. Walking through her door was like going through a time warp. Even her floors were original. There was yellow rolled linoleum in the kitchen and hardwood floors throughout the rest of the house with beautiful floral wool rugs in the living room. The bathroom was tiled with the original old school tile and a deep cast iron tub. My sisters didn't love it and my mother and some of her other sisters would try to get Aunt Jeannette to update the house. She never would and I was always so glad she didn't. I didn't care if my sister thought it was a bit "Whatever Happened to Baby Jane" as she liked to whisper to me at night, like that would freak me out. I loved it even more.

Aunt Jeannette owned a lot of land in Salinas and her house sat on the edge of one of those parcels. She rented the fields out as long as I can remember. I loved driving up her driveway and seeing the fields bursting with strawberries. Acres and acres that seemed to never end. As soon as we'd walk in the backdoor, Aunt Jeannette would hug and kiss Kelly and I then hand us bowls to go out and ask one of the workers for strawberries. We'd carry our full bowls back inside and she'd make strawberry shortcake for us. This happened every time without fail, no matter what time we arrived. It's one of my favorite Aunt Jeannette memories.

The truth is, my aunt had a lot of money but she lived more frugally than anyone I have ever met in my entire life. There were good things about that and not so good things. One of the amazing things about her penny pinching was her giant, and I mean humongous, two dollar jar of Pond's Cold Cream. Every night before bed she would lather that stuff on her face until she looked like she was wearing a mask. No fancy, expensive night serums for her. No way! Then, in the morning, she would sit on her stool in front of her bedroom mirror and wipe her face with a tissue. Here's the kicker, she had the softest, most beautifully, perfect skin up to the day she died. For two dollars a jar. Take that all you fancy gals!

Aunt Jeannette had the sweetest, high-pitched little voice. She always called us dear. Actually, she always called everyone dear. In the mornings, whether we stayed at our house or hers, it was always the same routine. She would wake before us, come to our bedroom and sing in that sweet voice...

Good Morning to You

We're All in Our Places

With Sunshiney Faces

Oh, This is the Way

To Start a New Day

I can still hear her singing it and now I sing it to my own grandchildren.

Aunt Jeannette and Uncle Tony, Father Roberto's sister Carmen, my sister Charlene, Aunt Sylvia, my father's parents Ascension and Pedro Casas with my mother, Bernice, standing between them. I loved that my mother and father's families got along and spent time together. Isn't that the way it's supposed to be?

Carmen Omaña, Aunt Jeannette and my mother, playing in the snow in Lake Tahoe. One of the few pictures in existence of my mother wearing pants. My mom and Aunt Jeannette loved traveling together. I have so many pictures of them in Mexico, Hawaii, Boston, New York, Canada. Often, they would attend some sort of fancy dinner, conference, whatever for the Drive-In Theater Owners. My mom loved going with her sisters just about anywhere.

My mother and Aunt Jeannette in Canada, 1962.

A year after my Aunt Jeannette was born, the next Walter child arrived on the scene in Switzerland. Sylvia Angela Walter only lived to the age of three and I have never seen a photo of her. I'm not sure what happened to her and I don't recall seeing her name in the cemetery in Giubiasco when I was there. It must have been such an absolute heartbreak for my grandparents to lose their second child. I truly can't imagine. Quite a few children later, they named another child Sylvia Angelina Walter. I remember asking Aunt Sisi if that ever bothered her to be named after the sister she lost. I don't recall her actual words in response but it was pretty typical of Aunt Sisi. Something along the lines of don't be ridiculous. Those Swiss women are made of tough stuff, I tell ya.