HOLM, Signa Jonette

   Et andet navn for Signa var HOLMES, Signa Jo.

  Notater:

Kilde: Ole Damgaard, 2018.
Gift 2 gange, i første ægteskab JoEllen McComb (1933-2006).

Source: geni.com (private user).

Signa Jonette Holmes
Signa's Story after Campbell River
By JoEllen Vinyard

Papa's death in April 1921 dramatically changed the lives of the family. At the time, Signa was 16 and attending Vancouver Kingsway School because there were no secondary schools in Campbell River. Since she now had to support herself, Ted advised her to change her major from Liberal Arts to the more practical Business major. Although she knew it was the right decision, she did so with regret. While attending school, Signa stayed with a wealthy Vancouver family and paid for her room and board by working as a housekeeper and maid. Oddly, she never thought of this time of her life as a hardship or lonely. Near the end of her schooling, her broth Art had a similar arrangement not far away. He came by for a visit one day and naturally knocked on the front door. When the mistress of the house answered the door, she told him he should use the servant's entrance. This infuriated Signa because she had never thought of herself or Arthur as servants. Since survival and education were the primary goal, she bit her lip and the next day calmly expressed her views of the incident to the mistress. Thereafter, Arthur came through the front doer. Yeah Signa!

In October 1922, a few months after Papa's death, Ellen married Norman Wolfe and they settled in Menzies Bay. It was a very busy life with Ellen working as the youngest Postmistress in all of Canada as well as store-owner and dairy operator. Sometime in 1923, Norman was injured in a logging accident and was unable to work. Signa moved in with them and did whatever she could to help.

Papa's death forced Ted to assume the role of head-of-household. It became his goal to get his siblings educated and moved to Seattle where hopefully, they would find jobs and become independent. Seattle was the up-and-coming metropolis for job opportunities so the family gradually began emigrating there, with the intention of becoming citizens. Interestingly, Jenny was already an American Citizen, having been born in Iowa. Ted, Ellen and Art were also American-born. The only real "foreigner" was Signa, who had to go through the naturalization process once she got to Seattle. Thereafter, she had to show her papers every time she crossed the Canadian border.

After staying with Ellen and Norman a few months, Signa moved to Seattle and stayed with brother Ted while attending Sprott Shaw Business School. She once told me that the legal courses were the only ones she drifted through without really applying herself. She had no intention of ever working for a lawyer, so she avoided those courses if she could.

Signa's legal name was Signa Jonette Holm. Ted advised her to take the nickname of "Jo" because it sounded less foreign. He also thought changing Holm to Holmes would sound Less old-country. So Signa Holm became Jo Holmes. The family still called her Signa but friends called her Jo. My name was a combination of Jo and Ellen and Ted changed his name from Hans Theodore Holm to Harvard Theodore Holmes.

In February 1924, Signa started working part-time at a local electric firm and moved from Ted's place to the YWCA. In 1925, she moved to the very nice women-only Rosemary Club in downtown Seattle. Some of the women she met there became life-long friends, like Alice Martinsen. With school behind her, she was now ready for a real job and where did they send her for her first interview? Why a law firm, of course. It was not just any law firm, but one of the most prestigious in Seattle, Houser and Million, located on the top floor of the Smith Tower. In those days, the Smith Tower was the tallest building west of the Mississippi, housing the most prominent firms in the area. Paul Houser not only practiced law in Seattle, he was a Washington State Representative, later a Senator and ran unsuccessfully for Governor and Lieutenant Governor. E.C. Million (great name for an attorney) was wealthy, successful and smart but was not interested in politics. Signa proved to be extremely efficient, hard working and intuitive. She loved the excitement of the political and legal happenings around her.

In 1926, Grandma Jenny and Art moved from Campbell River to Seattle and Signa and they moved into a wonderful houseboat on Lake Washington. Old photos indicate the Holmes houseboat was a popular meeting place for the single people. By this time, Norman and Ellen were also living in Seattle, but things were not going well for them. Possibly Norman's logging injury still bothered him, but for whatever reason, he found it impossible to hold down a job and he became financially dependent on Ellen and the family. On October 29, 1929, Ellen filed for divorce. Paul Houser rarely handled divorce cases, but he told Ellen he thought their marriage was hopeless and advised her to get on with her life.

Ted became concerned that Signa was working too hard and not dating anyone. So, one night he took her to Fourose, a popular social dub for young people. Signa had always loved dancing and the first night there, a shy young man asked her to dance. He proved to be the best dancer she'd ever met and thus began the romance of Clare and Jo. They were married on November 1, 1929 in St. John's Danish Lutheran Church by Pastor Sorensen. They set up housekeeping at 11 Smith Street on Queen Anne Hill.

The house still stands and is well kept. It was built by Clare's father, Charles McComb, who owned a cabinet business on First Avenue prior to the Denny Regrade and the great Seattle Fire. He also worked as Superintendent for Robert Moran the shipbuilder. When he told friends he had found a wonderful lot on the south slope of Queen Anne with a magnificent view, they laughed and said "No one will come to visit you. It's too far away. There's no roads, just woods." The stubborn Scotsman bought it anyway and today the lot affords a wonderful view of the Space Needle and Seattle Centre. After he built his house, many others followed his lead and built also. The City even built a boulevard to crown the brow of the hill called Queen Anne. Unfortunately, the boulevard ran right through Charles' house and that's when he built the house on 11 West Smith Street and moved his family there. After the city got through mucking up the area, all that was left of his original land was a little pie-shaped lot. But he built, what would now be called a skinny house on the lot and he and his family lived the rest of their lives there, at 101 Highland Drive. An Architect eventually bought the property, tore down the house and replaced it with a very modem house with one of the best views in Seattle.

During the depression, jobs were almost impossible to find but Paul Houser found jobs for Uncle Jim and Aunt Alice - on my father's side. He got my father a job parking cars in the state capitol. He was an enormous help to our family during those tough times and Signa's steady income that helped support three or four families with no expectation of return. Nearly everyone was in the same boat, so there was no shame in being poor. To repay Houser for his many acts of kindness, several members of the family helped with his campaign. While Jenny was living with Mrs. Lone Johnson in Portland, she sent out mailings to her friends in Seattle, that were eligible to vote.

After l was born in Maynard Hospital in October 1933, they presented my dad with a bill for $150. Because times were tough, he asked if they would take $75 in cash and they did, making me a negotiated baby. I'm glad he didn't say "just give me my wife and keep the baby."

We lived at the Smith Street house until l was ready to start Kindergarten at John Jay Elementary School, where my father had also gone. My mother spent several days helping me learn the route to school. Today, l don 't think many parents would let their five-year-old daughter walk that distance twice a day but the only bad experience l had was with those miserable thugs called "Patrol Boys." They demanded a penny for permission to cross the street and warned me not to tell anyone. After several uncomfortable days, l told them my big brother would maim them for life if they threatened me again. That was probably the beginning of my assertive personality.

We moved to a rental house on Blaine Street on Queen Anne and l transferred to the West Queen Anne School. I'm still good friends with six of the girls that were in my class. Barbara Waller and I were only three when we met in Mary Anee Wells Ballet School.

After a few years at the Blaine house, we bought our first house at 1522 3rd Avenue West for $1,500. It was in pretty bad shape but the foundation was good and my dad began the huge task of remodelling it. During the remodelling, my parents learned a lot of new skills: laying carpet, painting, upholstering, lining drapes, planting gardens and paper hanging - during which they had many conversations about which way was up.

During December, we customarily went deep into the woods and cut Christmas Trees for Uncle Art, Aunt Ester, Aunt Ellen, Aunt Alice, Grandpa McComb, Uncle Robby and Uncle Earl and a tiny tree for my room. I can't believe we were able to lash that many trees to the top of the car. We would then stop at each family's house and let them choose their tree. This was usually an all-day event.

By this time my father had a good steady indoor job at Frederick and Nelson and loved it. No more working out in the rain, no short term jobs, no standing in line at the Carpenters Union Hall. He now had paid vacations, sick leave and everything else. What wonders! Plus my mother and I had a 15% discount and we quickly learned every nook and cranny of that great department store.

The crew at Frederick and Nelson consisted of 10 carpenters and cabinetmakers who were constantly remodelling and moving departments around. When I went downtown in high school years, I would go to each floor, on the escalator, listen carefully and then hear the tell tale tap of multiple hammers. Following the sound l would arrive on the scene, all big smiles for my Daddy and ask if he could spare a dollar ... He never once turned me down. However, at home, he never once said "yes" to any extra funds. We learned the value of the savings account. After the depression my father put one week's pay a month into the bank! One week's pay!

When the war first began, crowds of people came to Seattle to work at Boeing. The city was unprepared for this wave of people, and there were few apartments. I recall my mother and I sitting in the ladies lounge at Frederick and Nelson on one of the many couches. It really was a lounge room for tired shoppers. The young woman sitting next to my mother was reading the classifieds and (l think they were each smoking a cigarette). The conversation came to what are you looking for? And Lois explained that she was a school teacher, had heard of the great need for new teachers, and moved out here from Iowa. Well she had easily found a job but no where to live. Here we were in a four bedroom house so my big hearted mother said "Well of course you must come and board with us. So Lois did, and then later another teacher named Shirley Cavanaugh from Niagara Falls. My parents remained close friends with Lois and Art, whom she later married, for most of their lives.

Her patriotism extended beyond taking in young homeless teachers. Because it has been a few years since her career as a legal secretary, she thought no one would need those old skills, so she would become a riveter at Boeing to help the war effort and earn money.

Cute? She lost 40 pounds the first two months, climbing in and out of the fuselage. I recall her delightful little tool box with "JO" on it and I still have one of her tiny wrenches with her name scratched on. And of course the money was good. She left the house at about 4:30 and would come home about 6, taking several buses. She hired a neighbour lady to come in and get my breakfast, and be sure that I left for school on time. Mrs. Bergstrom - hot little custards - what memories.

When the war was over and I was about to enter high school, my mother put away her tool box and went to work for Federal Old Line Insurance Company whose headquarters were four block away on Queen Anne Avenue (the lovely brick building is still there). She began to suspect that there were not funds available to pay off all those who held policies. So she quietly terminated her job. About a half a year later, a State Insurance Commission investigated the company and found many mismanaged funds.
She worked for W J Burke & Company most of the time I was in college, had a job on Saturdays and a full time job in the summer. Between the two of us there was enough money for college. My Dad's health was failing, and he really wasn't able to sustain the hard physical labour of a carpenter any more.

My mother retired from W J Burke & Company when my first son Rob was born in Fort Lee Virginia, February of 1956. She and I were maybe a little homesick for each other. She decided it would be wise to arrive a few weeks early just in case. Rob had different ideas about the timing of his arrival which was two weeks late. Anyway, she and I had a lovely time for five weeks. Husband Mike was busy trying to learn the army way of life and how to be a second lieutenant. She and a neighbour friend of mine from college (husband was also ROTC) decided to teach me the card game of pinochle. So we did, every afternoon. I was terrible. Then there was shopping - not much money but shopping after all is fun mostly looking. One major flaw here. I could not tolerate entering a store that had "Whites Only" restrooms, or lunch counters, or water fountains. This rather limited our choices. And of course it took time for me to locate the manager and express my disgust. I was also offended by the fact that every time I walked down a city street where the stores and restaurants were, a strange thing would happen. If a black man was walking toward me, he would never give me eye contact, and would always step off the curb into the gutter; this was of course infuriating. Colonial Heights, a residential place, was mostly made up of young couples right out of college - ROTC, all second lieutenants, no idea of what they were doing, but with that graduate mentality of we knowing most everything. The problem in Colonial Heights was that many of the young couples came from the south and were all just out of college as were we. And keep in mind that this was the later part of the 50's when the Supreme Court's decision on integration was just beginning to manifest. Most of these southerners were still in shock. But to their defence, other than their infuriating unshakable prejudice, they were generous people. I am sure by now they have a kinder view of all God's people. But I could not tolerate racial slurs and felt compelled to call each one to task when ever it happened. We were not invited often for bridge. Our only friends were from Seattle or New York. One neighbour from Georgia came over to use our phone and my mother could not figure out what she was saying until the Georgia Peach drew her a picture of the phone.

My Father joined us in Virginia after Rob's birth and spent a few days. Then my dad & mother took off for a round-the-country train trip, seeing lots of the beautiful south, and miles and miles of Texas. They did enjoy this type of travel. No unpacking, just looking, eating and sleeping and excellent meals.

Their last trip (by now he was retired) was a cruise to Alaska, but his health was such that he really didn't enjoy it. They had planned on a trip to Hawaii, but my Dad kept saying he would never get there.

He died in Maynard Hospital, where I had been born. He had only been in the hospital a few weeks. Nephrology was the illness that devastated his body but Pneumonia as often happens was the final cause.

For two weeks my mother and I had been there almost all of every day. A few days before he died, Dr. Ramsey was making his daily exam. Dr. Ramsey was greatly loved and had cared for most of us for some years. Dr. Ramsey said "What in the world is the matter with you Clare? You aren't this sick, why do you look so worried?" To which my dad replied "Dr. Ramsey, if you were lying here and I was standing there, you would be worried too."

His suffering seemed to go on and on and one day Signa said to me "I can sit here and suffer with him, I love him. I could not see Papa die and I cannot be here when Clare dies." This did surprise me. I said to her "My biggest worry is that I won't be here when he dies. After all this is the second biggest event of his life, I need to hold his hand while he leaves here and goes there. He just can't go off alone." A couple of hours later it looked as if the time had come. Signa bolted out the door to try and find a nurse. I stood at his bedside, held his hand and told him I loved him. And as I did he left. Literally I could see his soul leave his body - probably one of the most moving experience God has ever given me.

About 10 minutes later, Jim Estep arrived. Something had just told him to leave work and get to the hospital. We talked a while then he took my mother and me right to the funeral home to make arrangements.

My mother and Dad had in the last six months made funeral arrangements for two of my Dad's brothers, Harry and Earl. So she was quite at ease at this particular Arthur Wright's (on Queen Anne). Some of you know what a shock it is to see coffins lined up with their pretty pink or blue linings, pillows, adornments, etc. Well, anyway, my mother and I both tended to get a little giggly when things are tense. She whispered in my ear "Did you see that plain white pine box out in the hall?" "No, I missed it" ..... "Well" she said "when your Dad and I were here a month ago for Earl, Clare said "My God that thing looks like a row boat." This sent the funeral director into a snit but we couldn't stop the attack of suppressed giggling.

A day and a half later my mother and I were told that my dad was ready for "viewing" and we were welcome to come. He was in one of THOSE rooms, and of course the purpose had been to make him appear as if he were all dressed up to go to a party and then simply dozed off. My mother and I were noticing all the lovely flowers when her eyes fell on one lovely vase on a tiny pedestal, right at the head of the casket. In the vase was one solitary perfect red rose. We looked at each other and I asked if she had sent it. "Why, no, I didn't." We gently extracted the card which read "Love from Eyria. "I had no idea what this meant, but my mother looked at my father with a sort of quizzical almost admiring smile and said "WHY CLARE!!"

Then I realized my mother was thinking that this was from some broken hearted woman. We both knew this was very unlikely, but it still seemed .... incongruous, enigmatic and mysterious. The next day my mother called the florist and inquired about the mysterious lady. It turned out to be quite innocent; Eyria was my Aunt Ellen's next door neighbour and good friend. But we never knew her as anything but Mrs. Feek (she was the wife of the Feek 's Answering Service).

In time my mother regained her good spirits and her concern about the rest of the family. She made a solo trip to the Bahamas that included a hotel and a cruise. She settled down to helling my Aunt Ellen care for my aging Grandma Jenny. At 90 Jenny was beginning to slow down from wear and tear. But she and Ellen continued a rather nice lifestyle, a few auto accidents along the way, but always the big birthday party on August 1st, and she continued to grow the biggest rhubarb on Beacon Hill!

At about ? her health really declined and Ellen and Signa were wearing themselves out taking care of her. I wanted them to bring in some hired professional help to ease the strain, but Ellen did not want any strangers in her house. My own life was in turmoil with my husband in the hospital with a heart attack, a two year healing process, a restaurant that I was now supposed to run and three wonderful kids to care for. I could not help. I kept telling them that they would both end up in the hospital if they didn't let up and get some help. Then Ellen fell off a ladder and was very close to a stroke, and my mother had a major heart attack. So the nursing home was the only solution. Grandma died at 104 years of age and my aunt declared "Just think, a few more months and she could have been 105!! Wouldn't that have been wonderful? To which my down to earthly mother replied "Good heavens, what for?"

About the time Jenny went into a Nursing home, an old family friend began to court my mother. His wife Althea had died a few years before my dad had died. The two couples were in the same dance club, bridge club, and had many mutual friends. So people began to invite them as a couple. Roy Rowse was a kind, affectionate, nice looking man. After a few months he proposed marriage to my mother. To which she replied "Now, what would I want to do that for?" Yet it was apparent she was pleased by his attention to her. He said, "Go ask JoEllen what she thinks." And she did. Any half witted daughter would have the sense to reply: "It is all up to you; whatever you want to do is fine with all of us." So she turned him down. But Roy was not to be turned down; he kept up his campaign until one day she said to me "You know what? I think he really loves me." And he did, and so it was. They had two and a half great years together travelling, holding hands, always affectionate. (His family had never seen him like this, and they were delighted). Then came six months of illness. She turned her living room into his sick room until he went to Virginia Mason to die. She was trying to feed him one more teaspoon of chicken soup when he quietly died. Later my mother remarked to me "well, I guess he just didn't want any more soup." She removed the gold dove on the chain she had given him, and put it around her own neck, then went out to call the nurse. Those years with Roy were wonderful and full of love and tenderness.

By 1982 she was 77 years old. Roy, Ellen, Mama, my dad, all were gone on ahead. Because all these deaths had resulted in some unexpected inheritances for her, she wanted to fulfil her life's dream of going down the Amazon River, to South America, Rio, Chili, Carategena, The Straits of Magellan, Argentina, Peru, all of it. She once remarked "All my friends want to go to Europe or West to Hawaii. Why not south to South America? She invited JoEllen, grandson Jim and granddaughter Jennifer to go with her. Rob had a full time job to get him through college. It was a year of fun - making arrangements. The Delta Line at the time had a fleet of four ships that made The Loop". Vancouver, BC, Tacoma, San Francisco, through the Panama Canal, Columbia, Venezuela, crossing the equator, Brazil, Argentina, The Straits of Magellan, Chile and finally Peru. This line of ships carried both passengers (a maximum of 80) plus it was a freighter to all parts in South America. We had all the amenities of a standard 1,000 huge cruise ship, swimming pool, fabulous meals, games, dances, live entertainment, etc. but the smaller number of passengers made it almost a family. For 35 days it was our own little world full of fun, education and beautiful sights. We originally were scheduled for a 28 day trip, but because of difficulties at the Falkland Islands, we were transferred to another ship which meant an upgrade in 2 of our 3 staterooms, plus 35 days instead of 28.

About a week into our journey, my mother said to me "Do you suppose Heaven will be as nice as this?" To which I replied, "Well, maybe this is heaven. Maybe the plane went down on our way to Florida and this is it. Wow how wonderful! We came home with a hundred adventures to store in our memories.

In 1990 she had a series of strokes and was cared for in her own home by family and hired professionals. Then she was finally moved to a Nursing Home ironically sponsored by the old St. John's Danish Lutheran Church. She was there several months, but it was hard to tell if she knew us sometimes.

My husband and I arrived at the hospital late one evening in January after the urgent phone call from the staff. We were two minutes late. She had left without me. I took her warm body in my arms and held her for about an hour. Rob and Jim arrived shortly after we did. We were unable to reach Jennifer until the next morning. We prayed together, we talked about her good life and what joy she had given. We said goodbye.

She belonged to, and was loved by, many people. But she and I knew that the love between us was the strongest love of all.

Signa blev gift med Clarence Malcolm McCOMB den 02.11.1929 i Seattle, King County, Washington, USA. (Clarence Malcolm McCOMB blev født den 13.11.1896 i Washington, Lucas County, Ohio, USA og døde den 12.03.1968 i Seattle, King County, Washington, USA.)

Signa blev derefter gift med Raymond H. ROWSE. (Raymond H. ROWSE blev født den 25.01.1916 i Rhode Island, New England, USA og døde den 24.05.1996 i Maryland, USA.)