Joan Edwards

December 3, 2011

Wilma’s kidnapping

Filed under: Wilma - my mom — admin @ 9:31 am

This is the story of my mother’s (Wilma Elane Redmond) kidnapping as told by her sister (Roberta) [See original newspaper clipping here]



WILMA’S ESCAPE–about 1940
Roberta La Grand

Late in summer our parents went to an all-day farm auction. An older brother was away from home working, leaving me at age 14 in charge of four younger siblings: Wilma, 13 years old, Margaret 12, Eddie and Merle, both younger, probably about 5 or 6. This wasn’t unusual for farm kids, we were very responsible about our chores and good about obeying our parents wishes.

They left us a job, “clean the chicken house.” We knew if we worked hard, and cooperated instead of fussing, we could get done in time for evening chores. After really working, we were done except for putting down clean straw on the floor. By this time we were really anxious to have all chores done by the time our parents got home. We knew they would be surprised and proud of us.

Wilma proposed a deal: she would take the kids and go get the cows from the pasture if I would put down clean straw and then put the feed in place for each milk cow in the milking barn. The cows and kids had to walk the distance of about one city block along the busy road (plenty of room to the side, we did it all the time without incident). Considering the fact our parents weren’t home, however, I should have gone with them, a fact I have regretted not doing all my life, although my parents never seemed to blame me.

I’m getting ahead of the story…

A few minutes after the kids left I heard screaming. Thinking one of them had been hit by a car, I ran to the road. They were screaming and crying because a man kidnapped Wilma!!! in broad daylight!! on a very busy road!! Two farm families lived across the road; they heard the commotion and came out. One man got in his car to give chase, the other went into his house to call the sheriff.

This is as far as I can ever get without breaking down in a verbal rendition, and even now I have to take a break as I am overcome with the memory of the emotion I was experiencing…. A cold fear invaded my body, guilt washed over me. Why had I stayed home? I turned aside and prayed, “Please, God, if you will bring her back to us alive, I will never fight with her again.” A promise I think I have never forgotten. We often disagreed over the years but we could talk it out without resorting to the foolish fighting as we had sometimes done in the past.

Things began to happen fast. Sheriff patrol cars arrived, the neighbor who had given chase came back. He had followed the car and gotten close enough to get a description and tag number, but because his gas gauge registered nearly empty he turned back to call in the information. About the same time two farmers drove a pickup truck into our drive. They stopped and got out, reaching in to help someone out. IT WAS WILMA! I could scarcely take the picture into my brain. Her dress was torn in tatters–her beautiful long blonde hair was full of debris–her face was streaked with dirt, sweat and tears–a haunted look in her eyes spoke volumes. She was the most beautiful sight I had ever seen! I opened my arms, she walked into them, we clung to each other silently, ignoring the bedlam that had erupted around us. “Are you okay?” I whispered into her ear. She knew what I meant. “Yes, I got away before he had a chance to do anything. I tore my clothes jumping from his car and going through a barbed wire fence.”

The authorities were trying to question her as they wanted to capture the man. About this time my parents drove in, wondering what was happening.

Wilma calmed down enough to tell us all her story. “I resisted the man at first then realized he was going to take someone and the others were too young to plan a getaway. Besides they would sound the alarm and someone would rescue me so I quit fighting as he put me in the car. A little way down the road he looked in his mirror and saw the neighbor’s car had caught up to him and then turned around. Knowing he probably would give details to police he decided to turn off this busy road. When he turned off to a dirt road I jumped out of the car. I was thrown across the ditch, rolled under a barbed wire fence into a cornfield. The corn was so thickly planted and tall that even though he stopped the car and entered the field he couldn’t find me. ‘Come back, I won’t hurt you–I will take you home,’ he kept calling. The field was planted on a steep hill and I ran up that hill knowing a farm house was at the top. We knew this family and I was sure they would help me.”

Little did Wilma know that more trauma was ahead for her: the farmers she had run to that day were fumigating their chicken house, thus wearing protection masks over their faces. They came out with the masks on, not realizing the effect it would have on her. She turned and ran again, but there were several men there and they managed to catch her, jerk their masks off and calm her enough to tell her story. Of course, they brought her home.

I heard my mother say to the sheriff’s men that IF this had to happen, Wilma was the one who would keep her head, think of getting the other children safely away, plan and execute her own escape later. How right she was.

Later that night I overheard my parents talking. Mother asked Daddy what he would have done had they been home. My dad, who was always so calm, kind and slow to anger said, “I would have grabbed the shotgun and given chase.”

“Would you have shot him?”

“Absolutely.”

“But you might have hit Wilma too, with a shotgun.”

“Better that than what would happen to her if she wasn’t rescued.”

I have always been grateful it worked out like it did, because my dad could have possibly become a murderer.

Police tracked the man through his car tag number and picked him up. He admitted taking Wilma, admitted his intention was to molest her, admitted being high on “dope.” Yes, even then there were drug problems, but not to the extent it is now.

A few days later, the police came to the one-room school house that was close to our home. They took Wilma and Margaret to the jail to identify the man. (I was in high school by then but they didn’t need me, I had not seen him). My parents drove there to be with the girls. Margaret told me it was very scary, they were so afraid he might escape. There was a trial and he was sentenced to several years in prison. Had Wilma been a few months younger, he would have gotten a stiffer sentence. We were glad to see that he was at least convicted.

Wilma was serving a sentence also. She, who had always been such a “dare devil”–ready to try any scary thing–became so fearful. If a car came in our driveway that she didn’t recognize, we would have to hunt for her–under a bed or in the back of a a closet, in the hay in the barn–we would have to find her as no amount of calling would bring her out. I feel that in the same circumstance today counseling would be given at least for her. Our whole family needed it, to learn how to best help her.

A few months later the man’s parents asked if they could come to our house “to talk.” My parents said yes. They came and stayed maybe an hour. They said their son had been offered a good job if he could be paroled. The prison board said only my parents’ OK could make that happen. The man thought that since he “hadn’t hurt the girl” he should be let out. My dad very gently told them what Wilma was going through, saying he couldn’t possibly agree to their wishes because of her mental state and how much worse she would be if she knew he was free. The mother was crying as they left. We felt sad for them, they seemed like very nice people, but were relieved to hear Daddy say no. If my parents ever knew when the man was released, they never told us.

My sister Margaret remembers more details than I knew about, such as them being taken to the jail. I am 73 years old, my memory is faulty at times, but this is how I remember the story. Wilma’s strength and later her faith in God helped her to overcome this terrible event in her life. She learned how to be joyous again.

December 1, 2011

My Mom’s Birthday: December 1

Filed under: Birthday — admin @ 3:14 pm

Today is my mom’s 84th birthday. She was born in Lyndon, Kansas, in 1927. She had two sisters and three brothers. The youngest two, Merle (Ohio) and Margaret (Washington), are the only two left. Her father was in World War I and suffered from mustard gas inhalation which lead to his death a few years after the war. He was a dairy farmer and mail carrier. My mom’s mother was a stay-at-home mom (who wouldn’t be with six children in those days). My mom and her sister Roberta left home in their mid-teens to go to Milwaukee for a few years where they worked as waitresses.

She eventually married and had Dennis but that marriage ended in divorce. She then met my dad and they had three children before he died in 1964. I once found a note she had written that said, “The man I love has gone away.” So sad. She did remarry one more time but that marriage ended in divorce. I used to think no one had lives like the soap operas on tv but my mom’s might have come close.

She was a Christian and taught us all about the Bible and God. She had good character and was trustworthy and generous.

Tonight I am making fried chicken, mashed potatoes, and milk gravy–a meal she often made for me.

Happy birthday, Mama

September 5, 2009

Bruce is 57

Filed under: Birthday — Joan Edwards @ 2:46 am

Wishing my sweetie a wonderful, fun-filled birthday.

You have shared in many adventures with me and I have enjoyed every one. Thanks for choosing me to go with you on this wonderful trip that is our lives. May our journey continue for many more years and I know that every day of the future will be just as wonderful.

Happy birthday, Bruce.

September 26, 2008

35 and counting

Filed under: Uncategorized — Joan Edwards @ 7:04 am

Who would guess that 35 years would go so fast. I guess it’s true that time flies when you’re having fun. I have been so blessed to get to live my life with such a generous, loving, fun and adventuresome person. Bruce, you stretch me to go places I wouldn’t have the boldness to go without such a caring, sharing, protecting, loving partner to do such things with.

You are gifted with the ability to write so I cannot even try to match the eloquence of your blog about me. Don’t let that negate the overflowing thankfulness I have to be your wife and friend for all these years. All our accomplishments have been richer because I have you to share them with. I look forward to what lies ahead and know that your love for me will never fail nor mine for you.

We have four beautiful children now grown and launched in their own adventures. It is a blessing to see them move out in their giftings and I am proud of each of them. They have been joined by wonderful partners that we love as well.

Thank you, Lord.

September 5, 2008

bruce’s day

Filed under: Uncategorized — Joan Edwards @ 2:37 am

I’m up before the sun trying to reorient myself to the eastern time zone. I see Bruce has already blogged about the sun. I see the faint hint of it coming up in the east through our “forest” in the back yard.

Bruce has faithfully taken care of me for at least 35 years and I am truly blessed to have shared more than half his life with him. We have shared many adventures and much love. Happy birthday, dear one. I hope you have a blessed, peaceful day. I look forward to celebrating with you tonight. Grizzly Peak, here we come.

June 14, 2008

Father’s Day

Filed under: Uncategorized — Joan Edwards @ 8:31 pm

I did not know my own father very well because he died when I was 10 years old.  He picked my name when I was born.  My first memory is following him into the field by our house when I was about 3 years old.  When I was about 8 years old, I remember sitting on his lap and combing his hair.  He was balding and he had this long bit of hair he would comb over the bald spot.  I think I was his special girl since I was his firstborn.  He worked away from home during the week most of the time so was home only on weekends so that limited the time I got to spend with him.  I missed him greatly after he died.   He was a good father.

My husband has been a wonderful father to our children and they have been blessed to have him into their adulthoods.  He loves them so much and his thoughts are always of them and wanting to bless them.   He has made my life blessed  in helping me raise these four children into adults we are so proud of.  Happy father’s day, Bruce.

April 1, 2008

what is it

Filed under: Uncategorized — Joan Edwards @ 7:56 am

Penni says it’s a boy.

January 8, 2008

happy birthday

Filed under: Uncategorized, Birthday — Joan Edwards @ 5:24 am

Today we celebrate the 33rd birthday of our firstborn. We didn’t know what the future held but we eagerly awaited the arrival of matthew bruce edwards on January 8, 1975. He has been such a blessing in our family and I’m very proud of him and love him very much.

Matt, enjoy your day!!!

December 11, 2007

peace (amani)

Filed under: African mission, Amani — Joan Edwards @ 1:46 pm

destinySurrounded by fog, ice, mist.  The day has been peaceful after the previous day of cooking, cleaning and enjoying company for dinner.  I felt peace yesterday also even in the business.  Life so often has a way of turning into a tumultuous storm without warning so I’m enjoying this quiet interlude.

Sorry to hear about the moose.  Poor little Alaskan guy.  I’m glad the vehicle occupants were unhurt.

God has been stirring my heart lately about Africa.  I just read West with the Wind about a contemporary of the Out of Africa author.  Beryl Markham was born in England but raised in Kenya.  She became the first woman pilot to fly the Atlantic from England to Novia Scotia.  She wrote a beautiful piece that evoked my nostalgic memories of Kenya.   Does God have Africa in my future?  I don’t know and I don’t have any definite plans right now but have exploring the possibility of next fall going to Liberia to work again with Amani (peace).

Our little kitties won’t leave the Christmas decorations alone.  I’ve had to remove fake Christmas tree leaves from Pseudo’s teeth twice yesterday so finally just put the wreath away.  We didn’t even put the tree up this year so they are after the wreath.  He thinks it is grass which he loves.   The leaf gets stuck on his tooth when he bites down on it and he can’t get it off.  He came to me and pointed at his mouth with his paw to show that he needed help.

Missing my loved ones.

October 3, 2007

HOME

Filed under: Uncategorized — Joan Edwards @ 5:44 pm

I’ve been home several days and am getting settled.  It takes me a while to do the laundry and put everything away.  I don’t have any reason to rush so have taken time to sit a while to knit and catch up on all the mail.  It took me a whole day to do the bank and bills stuff.  Our bank just changed over so I had to make a trip to town to set up what type of account we want and choose the freebies like free checks in the mail and free overdraft protection.  All of this has not been very interesting but needed to be done.

Now, our neighborhood is getting two new homes built this fall.  We woke up to dump trucks going back and forth to spread the dirt that was dug from the basement along the empty lots near us.  I look forward to watching them being built and seeing what the new homeowners choose for things like lights, cabinets, countertops and floor covering.

I went to my Bible study today.  We’re starting a new one on John.  I think I will like this one a lot better than the last.  I just miss meeting with the ladies.  We have been a group for seven years and have shared a lot with each other about our lives and what we have all gone through.  We haven’t met since last spring so I have missed them.

Still remembering Alaska days and the peacefulness of  Willow.  I’m glad to be home with husband and  cats.  We have a home group dinner tomorrow evening.  I’m making two kinds of soup and scones.

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