Being a local girl, my bride Mary had a circle of friends with whom she had grown up. On the other hand, I was new in town and most of my friends were guys I knew at work. Most of her friends were busy getting married and although we got together with some of them sometimes, we never became close friends with any of them. Co-workers of my age were mainly from somewhere else and prone to get together socially. And so it was that most of our friends came from the ranks of engineers and their wives.

Mike and Lucille McLean were among the first new friends made in the early years of our marriage. Mike was an engineer at Westinghouse, the same as I. We got together often and became close friends.

Mike was an easy-going clever fellow who seemed to love his wife very much. Lucille looked much younger than her years. She appeared as a young teen-ager, though in her mid-twenties. The couple wanted very much to have a family, but had not been blessed with a child.

“We’ve tried all the natural methods available,” said Lucille, “I even take my temperature every morning for a week each month, to see if the time is right. Still I’m not pregnant. We love kids, so we’ll just have to keep trying.”

“You should quit trying so hard, just enjoy each other,” I advised, but I think my advice fell on deaf ears.

They may have tried to compensate by being close to other people’s children. At any rate they were more than willing to look after our little boys almost anytime. They took David when Stephen was born. They cared for both boys for Catherine’s birth. On many other occasions they fed and entertained the boys who probably hated to come back home.

In the early 1950’s the airplane manufacturing business slowed to a creep. Usually when military business slowed, commercial business increased and vise versa, tending to level out the bumps in demand for our electric power equipment. That time however, both slumped together. Mike was laid off. He got a job in Toledo, Ohio and moved there. We continued to visit each other for a while. We even left our boys with them for a week one time. Within a year or so Mike found a better job with McDonnell Aircraft Company in Saint Louis, and moved again.

We missed seeing Mike and Lucille, and bye and bye we decided to go visit them. It would have been a long drive with four little kids, so we planned to go by rail. The Nickel Plate Railroad had passenger service to St. Louis, but only one train a day.

It was past the children’s bedtime when we boarded the train, but none of them were ready to sleep. They were too excited to be sleepy. This was to be their first train ride. A porter helped us to get settled into our bedroom.  We sat down and contemplated our sleeping arrangements. Each berth was wide enough for two adults provided they slept like spoons. Mary took the upper berth with the two boys at the foot of the bed. I had the lower with the two girls at the foot of my bed. Once we were all tucked in, there was continued chatter among the children for a while. Finally they settled down and all was quiet except for the click-itty-clack on the rails.

Soon Stephen stirred, then blurted out, ”Brush in bed, Mom!  Brush in bed.”

Mom gave a soft groan, adjusted her nightgown, turned over and went to sleep. I strained to keep from bursting out laughing.

We managed to finish our breakfast in the dining car in time to get back and pack our things before we arrived. We must have been a sight to behold! There was a young couple, each with two kids in tow, following a porter out of the Pullman car. The porter carried a suitcase in his right hand and one under his right arm. In his left hand he carried Susanna’s little pink potty. I know he was mighty glad to turn over his load to us.

The McLeans greeted us at the station like long lost buddies. Susanna now carried her own little pink potty like a real grown up two year old as we piled into their car. Passengers were not encumbered by seat belts in those days. We traveled some distance to their suburban home where the children could run and play in the yard and the hugging could start over again.

We spent the better part of a week with our friends, retracing “old times” and doing things the kids might enjoy. A day at the zoo was lots of fun and reminded us of a striking resemblance of apes to people. Our hosts were still trying for a pregnancy, but to no avail. I reiterated my previous advice to quit making work out of play.

After our visit we seldom saw the McLeans, but we kept in touch by mail. One evening a few years later I was greeted by Mary with a sparkle in her eye. 

“Guess what!” she said, “We got a letter from Lucille today. She’s pregnant!” 

“Good deal, it’s about time,” said I, “They must have finally taken my advice.”

That was only the beginning. Every year or two following we heard of a new addition until they had a total of five offspring. At any rate they could now transfer their admiration for other people’s children to love for their own.