Posts
JOAN L. ECKERSON
ANDERSON
1925-2013
The Pacific Northwest got a little less lively on Monday,
September 2, 2013, with the death of Joan Lenore Eckerson Anderson, age
88. Born at home in Centralia,
Washington in 1925, to Harold L. and Katie “Babe” Ives Eckerson, “Jo” or
“Josie,” as she was known, descended from several old Fords Prairie and
Centralia pioneers. These included her
Eckerson, Ives, Channell, Foglesong, and Myers ancestors, many of whom had come
to the area long before 1900. Her mother
always said that Jo's arrival was the first of many of her life's dramas,
because it occurred during a flood in January, and the doctor had a hard time
making it to their house. Joan attended Fords
Prairie School, and graduated from Centralia High School in 1944. She had many happy memories of growing up as
a rural Washington tomboy, even during the Depression, spending time with
loving relatives, her friends, and mostly, her beloved horses. From an early age, she found a lot of joy on
horseback, a passion that lasted throughout her life. Whatever was bothering her, time spent in the
barn was the answer.
As an older teenager during the years of WWII, Jo worked at a
couple of jobs traditionally held by men.
She rode a bus to Chehalis to work as a “Rosie the Riveter,” at a
war-time plant established by Boeing.
There she built aircraft components, proud of her ability to work faster
than some of the men. Jo also worked at
a service station west of Centralia, where she had two life-changing
experiences. In 1942, she was held up by
two men, who threatened her with a gun held to her back, and told her not to
talk. Not one to like being told what to
do, Jo promptly called the police after their departure, and the pair was
arrested within two hours. The second
life-changer was when a charming young soldier from Chicago came in to the
station, looking to have a repair made to the Army vehicle he was driving. Although Jo had met many lonely young men
stationed at nearby Fort Lewis, there was something special about Jack C.
Francis. During her one year at
Washington State University at Pullman, she half-heartedly studied home
economics, and worried over his safe return from the battlefields of
Europe. They married in November of
1945.
Married life brought a different set of adventures and
challenges. Jack had a case of “itchy
feet,” and they moved regularly, once to Alaska. Two children came along right away: James Patrick and Mary Catherine, followed
later by Jennifer Jo, and finally John David.
To make extra money, Jo did some home remodeling jobs. Later, it didn't occur to her children to
find it odd that their mother could build a brick fireplace or mix cement. This was long before the “DIY” movement. Jo also grew a huge garden, and did a mammoth
amount of canning every year. What she
didn't plant, she bought by the box directly from the grower. We dreaded peeling peaches in the heat of
August, but loved opening up those jars in January!
In 1955, Jo and Jack followed her parents, and moved to the
Napa Valley of California, where they all decided to take a break from the
rains of Washington. Not long after, Jo
began her working career with the State of California, training as a
psychiatric technician at the State Hospital in Napa. This was back in the days when that job
required a full nurse’s uniform, which involved a white dress, white stockings,
and starched cap. I still remember her
freshly-washed cap, plastered to the refrigerator to dry smooth and flat. After several years, Jo was given the
opportunity to organize an on-site center at the hospital, where donated
clothing could chosen by the patients in a store-like setting. Known as the “Dolly Shoppe,” it was a great
success. The family moved to Camarillo,
CA for a year in the late 1960's, so that she could duplicate the shop at the
hospital there. Vacation time always
involved sleeping bags and either a tent or a trailer, and hitting the road for
the great outdoors.
Our mom did a couple of things right in particular: as kids, we felt well-taken care of, despite
having very little money. It never
occurred to us that we were eating bait (smelt), or cheap cuts of meat (the
sparest of spare ribs and round steak), because she made it fun by giving them
crazy names like, “fence-post meat.” We
were taught from an early age never to utter a racial slur, and to have
compassion for the underdog.
Jo and Jack eventually parted ways. In 1966, Jo married David C. Anderson, with
whom she shared many happy years until his death in 1990. During their marriage, Jo was able to return
to her love of riding and owning horses.
After her retirement, she and “Andy” traveled in an RV to many parts of
the United States, frequently to various events devoted to the Tennessee
Walking Horse. In the mid-1980's, they
made the decision to move back to Washington.
While still in Napa Valley, Jo had operated a saddle shop called Plum
Creek Saddlery on their property. She
moved the operation with her to Washington.
She made many friends throughout the Pacific Northwest, swapping horse
stories over the sales. She was later
briefly married to Clarence Guenther of Onalaska, WA, with whom she shared
memories of old Washington acquaintances, and also made a return trip to
Alaska.
The biggest tragedy of Jo's life was the loss of her son,
Jame Patrick Francis, in Viet Nam combat in 1969. Although devastated, she picked up the pieces
and moved on. This same energy enabled
her to develop properties relatively late in life. As a single woman, she had a house site
carved into a slope, had buildings built, had landscaping put in, and moved a
horse onto the property, all in her early 70's.
Jo was preceded in death by her parents, Harold and Babe
Eckerson, her brother, John Eckerson, her second husband, David C. Anderson,
and her son, James Patrick Francis. She
is survived by her daughter, Mary C. Lesch and her husband Bill, whose loving
and attentive care helped Mom live way beyond her nine lives. She is also survived by daughter Jennifer J.
Pina and her husband Davie. Jennifer is
honored to have assumed the role of family historian, and firmly believes our
ancestors had a sense of humor. Also
surviving is her son John D. (Francis) Anderson and his wife Joyce. John is our master of revels and tech wizard,
who provided Mom with a steady supply of milkshakes and old-time radio
recordings. Jo also leaves six
grandchildren: Christine, Michael,
Daniel, and Timothy Lesch, and Rebecca and Irene Anderson, as well as several
great grandchildren.
The word “feisty” might have been created with our mom in
mind. At her annual health assessment
conference five weeks before she died, Jo had this typical exchange: when the social worker asked her what year it
was, Mom (who was clearly stumped) saved herself by saying, “If you don't know
what year it is, you need to go figure it out, I'm not helping you!” One health provider commented that we must
have learned to think on our feet, growing up around our mother. She never let the truth get in the way of a
good story, nor did she miss an opportunity to let fly with a zinger. At the end of the day, there was no more loving,
fun, and generous mama grizzly. You only
have one mother, and ours was unique.
The family wishes to extend their thanks for the excellent
care provided by the staff at both Delaware Plaza Assisted Living, and Frontier
Rehabilitation Center of Longview, WA, and by David Westrup, M.D. As her son John said, they helped Mom coast
in for a smooth landing.
This tribute can be viewed online at
jenongen@blogspot.com
