Growing up, my Great Uncle Albert, a WWII veteran and amazing storyteller, was the closest I had to a grandfather. (Both my parents lost their fathers before they met.) His stories shared aspects of life and war I hadn’t heard in history recountings before, while his musings and opinions were often progressive for his time.
The War Veteran
John Albert Chester, Jr. was my mother’s maternal uncle.
Living in rural southwest Missouri on a family farm during the Great Depression, one might expect a simple farm boy-turned-war veteran mindset. Typically such mindset would include gender role expectations, some fairly fundamental Christian values, and suspicion of more ‘progressive’ ideas like feminism or desegregation.
Growing Up With Strong Women
However, John Albert was the middle child; born before and after two rather independent sisters to a former schoolteacher mother from the ‘big city’ (St. Louis).
This must have made the Chester house just a little different, because Albert never cared greatly if his view differed from those around him. He could still get along with nearly anyone and was always open to learning from any experience.
Knowing this, it should be no surprise that my Great Uncle told me just how proud he was of me as I was progressing through life. This meant a lot to a little girl who was simply in awe in his presence, as he seemed like the greatest of men.
Encouraging The Women In His Life
Albert was proud of all the women in his life and he had no qualms telling them so. A trait I didn’t realize was rather rare for a man born in 1920.
For example, a year or so into my first year of teaching, Great Uncle Albert wrote me the following (using his trusty typewriter):
“I am glad you are doing so well but can’t say I’m surprised; you see I was quite well acquainted with your Mother and Grandmother too.
Actually I have been impressed with the progress the ladies have made just during my lifetime. Through much of history they were not allowed to be much more than second class citizens even in our country. They were not allowed to vote until about the same time that I came into existence. Now they can and are doing anything they feel ‘big enough’ to do.”
[Written in 2004 at the age of 83.]
Albert was always very proud of my grandmother (a well-educated nurse before she was even allowed to document it as a degree) and my mother (a music teacher with a Master’s degree raised in a town where women married, not college-d).
He made it clear he was not surprised, but simply proud.
Always Surprising People With His Support
So when my Great Uncle showed up unannounced to BOTH my Bachelors (2001) and Masters (2002) graduations, I should not have been shocked. But I WAS!
You must understand, at the time he was in his 80s and his sight was not great after nearly six decades on a Harley. Not to mention, it was a 4 and a half hour drive EACH way (with no respite, mind you…he came, he saw, he loved, he left) all by himself.
By the time I graduated with my PhD in 2011, Albert’s daughter had taken his truck keys away because his eyesight had declined so badly. So, Albert simply drove the lawn mower around town…lol…but that sadly couldn’t make it two and a half hours to my graduation. Lol.
I loved that man.
The Feminist
My dear Uncle Albert amassed 190 credit hours from Pittsburg State University in Pittsburg, Kansas, but never did earn a degree. Which is absolutely typical Albert. Lol. He used that GI bill well as a WWII veteran…doing things his own way.
Albert was never one to toot his own horn, even when he probably should have, so I don’t know a great deal about his classes at PSU except for one professor: Margaret Elizabeth Haughawout.
I didn’t get a lot of correspondence from Albert over the years (the man was very busy…posts for another time). Thus, when in two different letters he told me about Ms. Haughawout, I knew she had made a distinct impression.
A Woman Who Went Down in History
The first time he told me about Ms. Haughawout, Albert sent me a copy of an article the local Pittsburg newspaper had written in 2001 (she passed in 1964) about her legacy as a local feminist, published author, and legendary PSU teacher.
I’m including that article here because it’s short and you should read it!
Rural Kansas, mid-century, fearless woman. Worth it!
With the article that Albert sent, he included a story about himself and Ms. Haughawout:
“From a literary point of view, I was quite out of my element in Margaret Haughawout’s short story writing class in the spring of 1947. I had graduated from Iantha High School on April 16, 1936. Only two years were offered at this third class school. I did manage to get through part of the Junior year at Minden Mines, Missouri before the depression contributed to my becoming a ‘drop-out’. Helping to put food on the table just seemed a proper first priority.
In 1939 I was part of the Military. Then came WWII, of course. After the war there was the G.I. Bill of Rights. By now, the value of an education seemed quite important. If the Government was willing to pay me ($50 a month plus $15.00 for my dependent Mother) they had a taker. I could work during the summer and rebalance the budget.
I took the G.E.D. tests and in the Fall of 1946, Margaret Haughawout was teaching the Rhetoric I class that I was part of. One assignment she gave was to write a theme. We were given the option of three titles. The one I picked was WHY I LIKE THE HOUSE IN WHICH I LIVE. When Miss Haughawout was ready to return the graded papers, she said: “I’m going to take the liberty of reading one of these papers to the class. I would have given Mr. Chester an A double plus if he could only spell.” She did give me an A minus, although there were more than fifty red marks on the paper.
I was quickly in trouble when Rhetoric II came along. I thought this teacher was unfair and made her aware of my feelings. From this point on, if grades had ranged below an F, I’m sure I would have qualified. Miss Haughawout learned of my problem, although I don’t know how, and arranged with the Department Head for me to get Rhetoric II credit in her Short Story Writing class. THAT LADY WAS SPECIAL.“
[Date of writing unknown, but mostly likely after newspaper article was published in 2001.]
Now, don’t get the wrong idea. Albert would never think someone was special simply because they did him a favor. This man’s moral compass was as true north as I have EVER encountered. This teacher was special to him because as a person she was SPECIAL.
The Courage to Be Herself & Aide Others
If you haven’t read the article above yet, give it a read.
Note the part about going against the KKK in a small town.
Or the part about being called into the President’s office because she dared to wear a suit.
Then see what Uncle Albert shared with me in a later letter:
“THERE IS NO PROFESSION MORE IMPORTANT THAN TEACHING! There are only a few great teachers. Some are exceptional, Many are good, most are average, and a few should be doing something else.
The really exceptional teacher, (I’ve sent a newsprint picture of one), will be well remembered with a sort of reverence by her students. I remember only a few of my teachers over the years, but I could never forget the good ones.
Let me dip for a moment into the opposite end of the stick. I got along very nicely in Miss Margaret Haughawout’s Rhetoric I class. (Almost half the students in this class were WWII Veterans.) Rhetoric II was a problem. Miss Dora Robertson taught this class. Any male student in her class would get a good grade, if they were to stop by her room and visit once in a while an A was assured. Girls nearly always got C’s or less. I couldn’t handle this so I felt I must bring things to a ‘head’. We were seated in alphabetical order. A very nice young lady by the name of Dixie Brown was seated on my right side and we were both directly in front of the teachers desk. Dora had handed out some graded test papers and then walked out into the hallway.
Dixie had a good paper and it was very neat. She had a D. Her paper was better than mine yet I had an A. When Miss Robertson came back into the room I laid my paper out where Dixie could see the A so Dora would notice the reaction. Dixie was near tears. Dora asked if something was wrong. I replied that we were just trying to understand the contrast. Dora snatched my paper up and without even looking at it, the A was marked out and replaced by an F. Dora then explained: “Oh I made a mistake.” During the next week I spent considerable time trying to determine how I should handle my problem. To complicate matters even more, Dr. Robertson Straun was head of the Department and Dora was his aunt.
What to do??? I just didn’t know. All problems have answers, but where was mine? Strangely enough the answer came walking down the hall right about then in the form of Miss Haughawout. She asked how things were going in Rhetoric II. I told her they were not going very well. She said: ‘So I’ve heard. I have arranged with the Department Head for you to get Rhetoric II credit in my graduate course in Short Story Writing, if that’s all right with you.’ It sure was! She said I would still have to take the Rhetoric II final exam so a B in the course would be the best I could expect. (I got it.)“
[Written in 2002, at the age of 82.]
Now, Albert has never been one to spell out anything that could be considered immodest, unless it was in the name of sharing the reality of war. So, I’m simply going to interpret ‘Dora’s’ behavior as enjoying time spent with young veterans.
If you need a reminder how young most of those WWII veteran students would be, here are a couple of pictures of my Great Uncle Albert around the time he would have been in Rhetoric II with Ms. Dora (his age: early to mid 20s):
We can only speculate as to why ‘Dora’ made the teaching decisions she made, but as an educator myself I love when a teacher keeps an ear to the ground, so to speak, and aids those attempting to do the right thing.
In fact, Ms. Haughawout reminds me of two professors in my own academic career that I am grateful to have met: Dr. Priscilla Riggle & Dr. Peggy Placier. I wish everyone could encounter at least one Ms. Haughawout in their lives.
Kindred Spirits?
As you will learn if you continue to follow my blog, John Albert was a WWII veteran who made tough decisions both in battle and later in life. These were certainly not always popular decisions, of course.
But like Ms. Haughawout, it was in an effort to follow his moral compass and do what he felt was right….which often ended up putting him in unintentional positions of educating others.
As a feminist, Ms. Haughawout was part of a movement to let everyone live as equals and as themselves. Her writings were a way in which she expressed her thinking and her experiences.
Albert too used writing in the same way, though his writings were generally addressed to the local newspaper editor or letters to family.
Both individuals spent their lives in service to others.
Both individuals were leaders and educators in their own ways.
Both could find ways around the ‘expected’ or ‘traditional’ to do what needed to be done.
And both were not afraid to rock the boat if necessary, yet did not seek attention or accolades for their efforts.
A WWII veteran and a feminist. Two people expected to see the world in vastly different ways. Yet two people far more similar than different.
May we all have an Uncle Albert in our lives.
May we all have a Ms. Haughawout in our lives.
May we all BE one of these to others in our lives.