8.7 The Doll House

By Anna Doris Whelan Shanks

In 1944, on August 15, a fourth daughter, Elizabeth Louise was born to Irvin and Frances Whelan. While Irvin probably felt a pang of disappointment when the fourth girl arrived, he was kind of used to female babies showing up. He had another cloud hanging over his head. He was drafted and had been called for a physical that he passed even though he had spent  several of the previous months flat on his back while he recovered from a serious job-related back injury. Military doctors found nothing amiss, however,  so he was waiting for the summons to report for military duty.  World War II action was never far from anyone's thoughts. It dominated newspapers and filled the radio airways. Everyone had someone serving either in Europe or in the Pacific theater.

Rationing was a way of life as people struggled to contend with wartime shortages, but Frances wanted Santa to bring a doll house to her girls for Christmas. She had saved an orange crate and was sure that was a good beginning for the wood needed to get Santa's helper started. Now Irvin had to think how to make the miracle happen. First he stopped by the lumberyards to check for any scraps of plywood he might be able to acquire. Lumber was hard to come by and very expensive.  Lo and behold! He did find several fairly large pieces, and he got a pretty good deal on their purchase.

Frances described what she wanted in the doll house. Irvin drew plans for a two-story house with two bedrooms, bathroom, kitchen, living room and the formal dining room insisted on by Frances. He gathered his tools, and there were not very many. He had a measuring tape, hammer, a square and a hand saw. That's what he had. A less courageous man would have turned tail and run from the challenge.

I don't remember just when construction began, but I imagine October would be a good guess. Garden products were gathered and Mom had canned everything she could, so she had time to devise and organize winter projects. Money was always scarce, so she didn't buy anything she could make. With three girls she could indulge her love of dolls. I especially remember the cloth baby dolls with curly hair and exquisite little ears Mom made. She sewed darling Scottie dogs, sometimes with fur fabric, but often with fabrics  from coats either passed on to her or that she purchased at church rummage sales. One year she even made a Mickey Mouse that I will never forget.

In the evening after supper, Daddy gathered his materials on the kitchen table and went to work. I was seven and everything Daddy did interested me. He would explain what he intended and then tell me to be quiet. After working all day in the oil fields he struggled every evening to bring his plan to fruition, and it did begin to take shape. Every room would have windows, and the door had a glass insert. Irvin bought a hand drill and a rattail saw. I fell in love with the rattail saw. What a cool implement. I got to hold the saw while Daddy drilled four holes at the corners of each window location with the hand drill. Now I held the drill while Daddy inserted the skinny end of the saw into the hole and slowly sawed across to the next corner, then to the next hole until all four sides of the window were cut out. In this tedious fashion, each window became a reality. Old picture frames from rummage sales were handy to provide glass for cutting to fit the windows. 

Daddy was at a loss when he got ready to frame the windows,  but Mom came to the rescue. In those days we had fabric window shades with thin wooden slats to stabilize and square the bottom of the shade. Mom pulled out the wooden slats and Daddy agreed they were perfectly proportioned to provide frames for the windows. Daddy had to acquire another saw, one fine enough to saw the slats without splitting the delicate wood. Kitchen matches, trimmed and glued, gave the look of panes in the windows.  Finding hinges tiny enough for the front door was another coup, but Daddy was super proud of the fancy nut that provided a decorator door knob. 

Daddy's artistry really shined as he cut out the stairs, step by step. He used real roofing and cut out and constructed a chimney to add finishing touches. A small portico over the front door brought construction to a end. Paint was hard to come by so Daddy put a protective shellac finish on the house. 'Until the war was over' was a phrase heard often.

 Both Mom and Daddy tried their skills at building doll house furniture, but their house was meant to be played with by four little girls. Furniture is delicate and pieces sturdy enough to stand up to the wear and tear was harder to construct. Often times, improvised pieces were more fun. Spools, match boxes and whatever we could find made our doll house livable.

After 'Santa' brought the doll house for Christmas, Mom took pictures and sent one of the house with the three oldest girls to the Shell Oil Company News Magazine. They published it for all the Shell world to see, and Mom and Daddy were so proud, not only of the doll house, but also of their three little girls.

Having watched the doll house grow from its very beginning, it has always been very dear to me. When my youngest sister was old enough to play with it, I went to the dime store and bought various pieces of furniture to decorate the rooms, indestructible plastic furniture. Already we had discovered the flaw to Mom's design. Daddy had put a wall in the kitchen, making the formal dining room behind the wall. It was impossible to utilize that room or the upstairs second bedroom that was behind the bathroom. For a long time we made do with what we could use.