Alberta Kisling was passionate about preserving stories and wrote and collected them during her life. The Quaker Stories website was created so these stories could be told.

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Resurrection

by Alberta Kisling

Out of the crumbles of dust and termites come memories of children’s voices at play or reciting, first-day school and committee meetings.  We Quakers reflect on the old school house that is gone.

But look!  Rising from the ruins of the past; a new building!  Many windows for quiet gazing across the fields.  Our spirits are lifted as our eyes are drawn heavenward.  Skylights, and a loft for rest, and quiet meditation.

Already there have been worship groups, committee meetings, and students sleeping (?) all night.  The rain barrel waters the new circle garden.

We are breathless as we absorb its beauty.  We are enthralled as we contemplate the endless possibility of its future.  The first of the past are weaving themselves into the miracle of new life in our beautiful, precious Quaker Cottage.

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Lorene Standing

by Alberta Kisling

Mother seldom lost her temper but there were occasions that would try the patience of a saint!

Mother had gathered walnuts and wanted to dry them so she could shuck the hulls off. So she decided to put them up on the tin roof of our house so the squirrels wouldn’t get them. Imagine her dismay when it rained and black walnut stain filled our cistern.

One wash day she had carried in buckets of water and filled the copper tub on the stove to heat. After she had transferred the hot water from the wood burning cookstove to the washing machine, added the Fels-Naptha soap she had ground off a hard bar, and sorted all the clothes; whites, colored and very, very dirty chore clothes, she attempted to start the gas engine on the washing machine. She kicked and kicked and it wouldn’t start. She took out the spark plug and cleaned it, put it back and tried and tried again!

“Well Sam Hill and Seven Stakes!” she said–as near to cussing as I ever heard.

When she was working at the County Home she used a step ladder to climb up on the kitchen counter to paint the wall. When she stepped back on the ladder it shifted and she fell, catching her leg in the ladder, causing a serious compound fracture. She didn’t call us until she had been in the hospital for three days and Aunt Lydia said, “if you don’t call your daughter, I will.”

She was so angry that she hadn’t been more careful.

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The Testimony of Community

by Alberta Kisling

(Click here or on the photo to see the slideshow)

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Pass it on

by Alberta Kisling

Several in our creative writing group are writing life histories for their families.  A number of people here at the Village have already written books.  Have you considered how you will pass on your family history?

There are many ways to do this and you don’t have to be a gifted writer to do it.  Making a recording is a wonderful way!  To be able to hear your voice after you are gone is a precious gift to give.

Have you ever interviewed family members, dear friends, or someone you admire?  It helps to have questions that trigger memories and special stories:  who was your best friend, what were your favorite games, describe a typical school day, how did you decide your life work what was the saddest day in your life, what was your favorite book, song, trip, pet?  You can create the questions to glean the information you want.

Look through your photographs.  Many of those pictures will trigger a story or a piece of history that is important.  It is so easy to reproduce pictures and they are a great addition to any story.  Make sure they are labeled and dated.

My mother placed great importance on passing on our family history.  I have a tape recording of an interview with her and my father.  Occasionally I have questions I wish I had asked–too late now.

We all have family stories that happened before we were born.  Those should be passed along also.  Here is one from my father’s childhood.  The crows were a nuisance near my father’s rural farm home.  He and his sister spotted a nest in a nearby tree and decided to kill the baby crows.  My father climbed the tree, and looked at the baby birds and hollered down “I can’t do it”.  She called “Throw them down, I’ll do it.”  Down came a baby bird.  “Stop” she shouted, “Don’t throw any more.”

Sometimes it may seem the younger generation isn’t interested in the family history or some family heirlooms.  It is just not on their radar yet.  The day will come when they will truly value you stories and they will be so grateful you passed on the gifts that were given to you.

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Family Camping

by Alberta Kisling

   The highlight of our summers were camping trips. As we endured the hot, dry summers and every activity resulting in sweat running down our flushed faces and our energy draining as we pulled those icky, tough weeds or pushed and shoved the mower through heavy grass, we could hardly wait to hear the water rushing and bubbling over the rocks in Big Thompson Canyon and breathing the crisp air of Rocky Mountain National Park.

            We always had a contest of who could see the mountains first – a great help as we restlessly endured the hot, barren prairie of Nebraska. As we drove into Estes Park the kids began to chatter and jump up and down. “There are the go carts, there is the amphitheater, hope we can get a camp spot in Moraine Park”! Soon we can hear the groans and moans as Dad drove around and around searching for the perfect spot. “Randy, you go sit on that picnic table to hold this spot as we look for a better one.” We would eventually return to pick up several disgruntled kids and begin the process of setting up camp. The children worked quickly so they could explore our area and climb the rocks. Eventually Burt and I would stretch out in our lawn chairs gazing in awe and wonder at Longs Peak and smelling the beautiful pine trees. Ground squirrels scurried around hoping for a tossed peanut and we smiled and sighed – it was worth the long, long trip, packing, aching heads and back.

            Supper was simple but typical camp food. The most wonderful smell as the bon fire began to burn brightly. Where are our sticks – finally found them and then the smell of hot dogs roasting and sizzling and the little blazes as the marshmallows catch fire. There are homemade cookies loaded with chocolate chips and brownies. The smores are sticky and sweet and of course called for more.

Soon we join our fellow campers trudging along the gravel path to the amphitheater The Ranger is friendly and tells us fascinating stories of the area. We smell popcorn as we plod happily home but we are cold!! Everyone hurries to climb into the warm sleeping bags. “Ok Mom, you were reading ‘Hans Brinker and the Silver Skates – Remember?”

            We feel so close to God under the starry sky, so thankful for our safe travels,  healthy family, and for Beautiful, Beautiful Colorado!!!

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Some Remarkable Quaker Women

by Alberta Kisling

Deborah Standing

While I didn’t know my Great Grandmother, many stories have been passed along.  To leave her home in civilized England and travel with her husband and five sons to a strange, new pioneer land surely took enormous courage!  There was no electricity, no running water, mud roads—a very primitive life.  Each Standing reunion we do a choral reading written by Martha Foster that describes her and her husband going to meeting with a horse and buggy with five sons dressed in white shirts and bow ties.  She was blessed with a kind, considerate husband who helped around the house.   For example, pumping the water from the well and carrying it into the house to heat it for doing the laundry.  Her husband Charles was a gifted Quaker minister.  The Standings wanted a good education for their children and supported the Bear Creek School and later, Scattergood School.  Several brothers married Nicholson sisters and both families had many artists, writers, and poets.

Eva Delitha Heald Stanley

Eva contracted tuberculosis as a young bride.  Ellis, her husband, took her to several doctors in Cedar Rapids and they all said there was no cure and she would die.  In the little Quaker village in Whittier, Iowa, there was a homeopathic doctor.  Dr. Ross came by horse and buggy several times a day and her remedies cured Grandma Eva.  Grandma studied the different remedies and relied on homeopathic medicine the rest of her life.  She taught her children and Grandchildren how to use the remedies, also.  She and Grandpa had five daughters—Lorene, Irma, Hazel, Wilma and Clyda.  She always helped milk the cows, raised lots of chickens, had a big garden, and canned a lot of food.  She was known for her beautiful flowers, her good cooking, and her friendly hospitality.  Grandpa didn’t believe in commercial fertilizer.  He built up his soil with manure and rock phosphate.  Grandpa ground the wheat they raised and Grandma baked her own bread.  She also sold extra to neighbors and to the Health Store in Cedar Rapids.

She and Grandpa got up very early to chore, followed by a big breakfast.  The breakfast dishes were left on the table and they retired to the parlor for Bible Reading every day.

There were few nursing homes in her day, and she took care of a number of elderly relatives in their final days.

Amy Lorene Stanley Standing

The oldest daughter of Ellis and Eva Stanley, she was raised on their farm near Whittier, Iowa.  As the oldest of five girls she was the outdoor girl.  She loved working outside, helping chore, working in the garden—fixing things.  She wasn’t fond of cooking and inside jobs.  She attended Scattergood School where she met her future husband, Albert Standing, and graduated from Olney Boarding School.  She attended teacher training at William Penn College and taught school at Whittier.  After their marriage she and Albert farmed at Whittier and Earlham.  They had a hard life during the depression with little money and three children, Wilden, Alberta, and Ellis.  She was very frugal, recycled whatever could be used.  She thought of herself as shy—worked very hard for people who needed help.  She could be depended upon, served on many committees but was the worker not the chair who received recognition.

Leanore Goodenow

Leanore was Director of Scattergood School, where I was a student for four years.  She was the person who had the most influence on my life.  Scattergood gave regular written reports instead of letter grades.  While at public school I easily received A’s; at Scattergood the reports were not so good.  She always expected more.  I learned to work harder, set higher goals, and make better use of my time.  We were heavily scheduled and free time was spent “volunteering” at work needed at the school.  To this day I feel guilty if I’m wasting time.

Leanore came to Iowa Yearly Meeting when Scattergood had been closed for years.  She started it up with a small staff and student body.  She was a strong director, frugal, attending to details, excellent at fund raising, and she rebuilt the School—students, staff, and Instruction, Art, Main, and Science Buildings, and Boys Dorm.  Her influence on the many students who attended, the faculty, the Committee, and the Yearly Meeting are immeasurable.  Burt and I both served on the Committee as did our son Jeff.  Our children all attended the school.  It continues to be a very important part of the Yearly Meeting.

Some Quaker Mothers of our Organizations

Patricia Newkirk

When she came to William Penn House things really starting looking nice—paint happened, bookcases appeared, things just looked spiffy.  She was there with a friendly smile and howdy!  Never mind that Byron was down below chopping up the old piano and laying carpet half the night.  We sure miss Patricia.

Olive Wilson

Olive was the Clerk of Everything—Mapleside Meeting, Iowa Yearly Meeting, Scattergood School, FCNL—and many other organizations I don’t know about.  She edited “Iowa Peace Links”.  She wrote her Congressmen endlessly, had letters to the editor printed often—worked and worked and worked some more for peace and justice.   Besides that she and Warren raised three children, farmed, and worked for their meeting, community, and projects dear to the hearts.  She was an amazing example.

Kathy Guthrie

When I was on Field Committee for FCNL Kathy was the staff person responsible for Field Committee.  She worked for FCNL for many years in many capacities.  She knew everyone, kept informed on what was happening, worked smoothly behind the scenes, could suggest people from all over the U.S. who might be able to fill a certain position.  She was the one who welcomed you and made you feel a part of the group.

Dear Birdie, I can’t tell you how honored I was to be included in the absolutely wonderful group of Quaker women.  To be listed in the same area as Olive Wilson—well, I don’t deserve it, but as I said, I’m extremely honored.  I was inspired to add a Quaker mother to your list.  I could think of several, Alison Oldham, for one, but decided to go with the first Quaker in my life–my mother’s favorite aunt (and mine as well).

With warm regards,

Kathy

Bessie Benson Gormong

My great aunt, Bessie Benson Gormong, was my introduction to what it was like to be a Quaker.  She grew up in rural southern Indiana, 9th in a family of 11 children.  She was the only girl to go to college, was a dairy farmer’s wife and partner in running the farm. They were both very involved in Western Yearly Meeting, Bloomingdale Quarter, and she in USFW.  They were no doubt the backbones of a tiny country Quaker church, Benson Chapel.  Bessie named her daughter for Susan B Anthony, took us to see Lincoln’s home in Springfield, and read and thought about and discussed current events.  When I recall how racist and narrow minded my grandmother (her sister) and grandfather were, I think it’s a true miracle that she had such a world view.  For a woman born in 1908, she not only was really a believer in equal rights for races, but for accepting differences in sexual orientation. I have always felt that being a Quaker means standing on the shoulders of giants. One of those sets of shoulders is my beloved aunt.

Kathy Guthrie

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Bonfires

by Alberta Kisling

Often as we walk along in the fall we see a whiff of smoke and soon the nostalgic odor of burning leaves overwhelms our senses.  What wonderful memories!!

We remember coming home on the school bus and entering the kitchen to the sight of our mother canning tomatoes.  After a warm cup of tomato juice, butter and crackers, we hurry out to rake up leaves.  Running and jumping into piles of leaves used some of our excess energy, and later lighting a fire helped ward off the chilly breeze.

Bonfires were central to our camping memories.  After attending the Ranger’s program in the amphitheater, we would gather around the fire and enjoy a cup of hot chocolate and make some smores.

Various gatherings of your groups usually had a time of singing around the campfire.  We loved those old camp songs, we loved the fellowship and sharing with our friends and the burning embers as the fire died down etched the blessing of time, friends, sharing in our memory.

Bear Creek Meeting has been the location of many bonfires.  Often while cleaning the meetinghouse for a large occasion, we would gather around the fire—tired, dirty, planning for a special event.  Other times our Standing family reunion was held there and we would gather in the evening for stories, singing, and, or course, smores.

There was no central heating in our childhood home.  Different kinds of fires burned there—a quick summer fire in the cook stove was usually corn cobs, fires to heat in the cold winter months were usually wood and coal, each with a distinctive odor.  On cold winter mornings we listened for the sounds of fire building and would race across cold floors to sit on the warm oven door of the cook stove.

Interesting how different odors bring forth certain memories.  After hot, dry days a soft rain brings forth the sweet, moist smell of grass.  Bacon frying, breakfast on the farm, coffee, chatting with friends or family around the kitchen table, chocolate cake—anticipation of dessert—maybe company coming—bread baking—so, so special the ultimate heartwarming food of the fortunate family where food sustains not only the body but the Spirit of Love which surrounds the gathering together as friends.

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Eva D. Stanley

by Alberta Kisling

2/17/1944

I think everywhere there are those factions to contend with.  Some want to be at the head of everything and often those are the least desirable, and the ones that might do better are shy, afraid to say what they think, so are just still and let the others ride over them and carry on.   It is just that lack of true Christian principles and kindly loving care that has broken up so many meetings, and scattered the sheep.  If we all could strive harder, and try faithfully to do our part, and in a kindly way say what we feel to be right, our meetings would have more life and we would be guided by our Heavenly Father to do and say what we are required to, be it ever so little.  We all need to walk closer to God that he may guide us, otherwise our efforts are in vain.  Maybe it is your place to talk plainly to …, in a kindly way.  Maybe they do not realize just where they are and what doing.

Eva D Stanley

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Albert and Lorene Standing

by Alberta Kisling

My Mother Lorene Stanley Standing was born on a farm near Whittier, Iowa. She attended Scattergood and Olney Boarding Schools. She taught school in Whittier for several years before she married. My Father, Albert Standing was born on a farm near Earlham, Iowa and was raised in the Bear Creek neighborhood. He attended Scattergood where he met my Mom. They were married in 1926 and were financially impacted by the great depression. Their neighbors lost their jobs so Mom and Dad gave them milk from their cows green beans from their garden and oatmeal. This was very typical of how they lived their lives. Many, many times they would help people who were having problems. They never received or wanted recognition. They worked hard, lived simply and cared for those who needed help.

After Dad died we took Mom on a trip to Colorado. We had never heard of altitude sickness and drove this 90+ year old lady up the mountains to Rocky Mountain National Park. The next morning she came out of the bedroom and said “I’m sick” She was a great believer in Homeopathic Medicine and always carried some with her. “What medicine do you need” I asked “I need Tylenol” “Have you ever taken Tylenol? I asked” ”No but I need it now.”

They were faithful Quakers all their lives, serving on committees, caretakers of the Whittier Community Building for years after they retired and Dad mowed the Cemetery for years. They both took care of Grandma.

There was a family in Whittier – a member of the community said it was a sad day for Whittier when they moved here.   Mom did not agree, she had her name on the list to be called if any of their children got sick at school – she would go get them. She taught the girls to cook and sew. They gave the family food when the father was unemployed.

This is what young Jeff Kisling said at his Grandmother Lorene’s Memorial Service “We don’t know what happens after we die, but one aspect of life after death we do know about is the influence of someone like Lorene and Albert continues to exert on the lives of those who know and loved them. Not only do memories of them continue to comfort us, but what they said, how they lived, things they did with us and for us remain with us always.”

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Mom’s birthday 2012

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Friends Committee on National Legislation (FCNL)

Mom and Dad were deeply involved in the work of FCNL for most of their lives. Dad was instrumental in collecting money for the construction of the FCNL offices in Washington, DC. They pulled me into this work, too. I’m glad I was attending the FCNL Anual Meeting as a member of the General Committee in 2012, when they were honored by Executive Secretary, Joe Volk. (They were both extremely embarrassed by the attention).