Henry Hansen Story
His next near disaster was worse, yet the telling of it created lots of fun! He had a truck that he was responsible for--big truck, can't remember how many tons--anyway it needed brakes, badly and he couldn't find the time, just kept driving and shifting down to stop. One day at an intersection a small German car, the Volkswagen, (which years later became so popular here but at the time was unknown) darted out in front of him and he ran right up on it. There were 2 people in the car who by some miracle weren't killed. But Hank was in trouble--he was court-marshaled and lost his one stripe--back to Buck Private. He left the country shortly after that, his 1½ years being up--and heard later on that the Germans weren't done with him. They were looking for him with more severe punishment in mind.
Well he now knew he could never go back to Germany--but then he never had any intention of doing that anyway. So he happily came home with a short layover in Camp Kilmer, NJ. The trip across the ocean was no happier than the one a year and 6 months before. This time the ship was a small one--a "liberty" or a "victory" can't remember which, but the Portland Shipyards produced them about one a day, for years--the very shipyard he worked in. He was bounced around real good--and sea sick all the way.
After a couple of weeks in New Jersey, he was put on a plane for home. He said as the plane left it circled around the Statue of Liberty (New Jersey being right by New York). After flying for some time it began to circle for landing and he looked out and there was the Statue of Liberty again. Seems they had engine trouble and came back-this was an Army plane. He had to wait on the runway for several hours during which time he watched one just like it come in for a landing with one wheel missing and creating a great deal of excitement of sparks etc. Finally it was decided to try again and this time he got on very reluctantly. Never-the-less he did fine until they flew over Wyoming. The turbulence was so bad that he became sick and started for the bathroom. Someone had to practically crawl back and drag him to his seat and made him stay in it (with a bag). At Salt Lake City the plane landed and Hank had had enough! He got off and refused to fly any further. That was his first airplane experience.
He started walking home. He was in uniform and had no trouble catching a ride-and what a ride it was. The U.S.A. had begun to make cars again (only made Army vehicles during the war years) and Studebaker had just made a revolutionary car. It had more style and 'future concept' than anything on the road and Hank had never even seen one but got to ride a great deal of the way home in one with a young person who drove very fast. It was pretty awesome.
We had no telephones on our hill at that time so when he arrived in Portland he began to walk his way home. He ran into a brother (Howard I think) who offered to drive him home, but couldn't get past the tavern on 103rd without stopping for a beer. So there he waited--not very patiently--until he was able to complete his very long and frustrating journey home. This was on a week day and I was at work (Sears). By the time I got home and saw him (surprised), the uniform was gone. He never wore it again.
He stayed with his sister Marg and used part of his savings to buy a car. It was a Chevy 1938 I believe, it had 4 doors (for about $800), nice looking. If ever a soldier was glad to be home it was Hank. He was anxious to get on with real life. He had two brothers working for a mason contractor named Monte Smallen and they assured him of a job. Monte liked the Hansen boys because they were hard working and dependable-and sober.
We decided on a wedding date one month after he arrived home, July 24. Monte didn't need him at the time so he went to work for another contractor as a laborer. When it came time to marry suddenly he didn't have a job anymore. It was many years later when I found out why. The contractor he was working for had to cut back and was going to layoff a man who had a wife and children. Hank didn't think that was right since he didn't mean to stay with the company anyway, so he quit to save the man's job. It was typical of the way he did things throughout his lifetime.
At that time neither of us had any church affiliation. Hank had been named after an Episcopal minister (Henry Oswald) but was baptized into or by a Lutheran I think. He had almost no church experience. To be married in a church was not even considered. We had no family help nor precedent-no money-whatever we did, we were on our own. In Oregon at that time, there was a 3 day waiting period and you had to have blood tests. In Washington you didn't have to do anything, Well Hank wasn't about to go to a doctor and have blood tests-he had a real fear of needles and had seen too many in the Army (In later years he fought down the fear and donated blood to the Red Cross by the gallon). They had to almost hold him down when they put then needle in his arm. So we simply went to Vancouver, Washington and bought a license, found a Justice of the Peace and were married. It was a very popular place to be married at that time. Many, many young couples did the same. We were accompanied by my mother and Hank's sister, Marg. There was no party nor reception. It never occurred to us that we should.
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I was 19, Hank was 20. At his age he had to have his father's permission to marry! A rather strange law when the government sent 18 year olds to fight their wars but wouldn't allow them to marry. Hank's Dad by that time had moved to California to work in the "fruit" and had taken his youngest brother, Johnny. In the summer of 1947 he was in Nebraska visiting relatives and we had a difficult time locating him to get permission. At the last minute there came a telegram and we were able to satisfy the law. Hank was disgusted and amused. We were married and drove off for a 3 day honeymoon down the Oregon coast to the redwoods in California. It was too far to go and he drove too fast and it was "hurry up" and keep going all the way and a preview of all our trips to come--little did I know!
He was anxious to get back and get a job and sure enough it was waiting for him--Monte needed him. We had a small house, built during wartime for defense workers in Vancouver. Housing was difficult to find. You have to realize that at that time there were no apartments as we know them now. None-just houses. The only reason we got one was because of a friend Hank made in the Army. I never met him, but he had a brother, Dale Richardson who was a young married living in that housing development. They signed papers saying that Hank was her (Ila's) brother and got us a house-a duplex. McLaughlin Heights it was called. A large and well known area (I am not sure I've spelled it correctly). As I look back on all of this now in the 90's I have to wonder that we ever made this union work-no one was more ill-prepared or just plain dumb about what marriage meant than I was. I didn't especially want to be married, was satisfied living at home and working with people I liked. Hank, on the other hand, did want to be married. He had no home and no really close family relationships either. He knew exactly what he wanted and was willing to work to get it.
It was his desire to build his own home-I don't remember talking about it much--we were too busy with too many things and somehow we just sailed along one thing after another and pretty soon we were deeply involved with babies, home, his life that he had dreams and plans for, but to me they just happened. It never occurred to us to use birth control. That was a subject not discussed in our generation. You got married and then the babies came. That was how it was and in 9 months and one day we had baby #1, David. Those were hard months for me, but Hank was working such long, hard hours he wouldn't have noticed. I complained a lot, had to give up my job because of so much morning sickness (I couldn't get out of the bathroom). No one was more ill prepared to be a mother than I was but surely not Hank. He was raised in the midst of a large family and besides he was one of those people who were born to love, tend and enjoy babies--any babies, but especially his own! David was the miracle of our lives. A fat happy good baby who seemed to respond to our adoration from the beginning. He was center stage for any and all events-my family's first grandchild and he was the delight of all! He entertained and delighted us with his every accomplishment.
When he was about 4 months old Hank took him along to go after a load of sand. I had to brush it off him when they got back, but his proud Dad insisted he wasn't too young to get started. We had chickens then and raised a few eggs and every day after David began to toddle around Hank would let him carry in any eggs he found and of course he would fall and break them. But Hank insisted it was all right. He had to learn. He got his first electric train at 10 months. Well this is getting ahead of the story.
We lived in Vancouver only about 6 weeks. We wanted a place of our own and Hank had a sister and brother-in-law who lived in Tigard and highly recommended it. We watched the paper and saw an ad (or maybe Anna found it and showed us) 2 acres in the Durham area for two thousand dollars. There was a small (one room) house with full porch and well built but no well, nor outer buildings. The old man who had lived there was alone, making his wine and had died. His relatives sold the place to us on a personal contract. Nice people, Albert Nordlander was the man's name. Every month we would drive over to their home on SE Shaver St. and pay them $100. We had a small down payment. In two years the place was ours.
The very first thing Hank had to do was dig a well and I do mean dig. He got a winch and by trial and error he dug a well-through soil and sand-at least there were no rocks at all. This made digging easy but created a dangerous situation to be working in. He had some rather exciting times too, about 20 ft. down found out he could come hand over hand in no time at all.
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