Page 84 - Armstrong Bloodline - ebook_Neat

Anderson. My uncle, Roy “Rook” Nelson was home from the Korean War on leave and we all spent the
holidays together. Dad left early as he apparently had work to do and Grandpa and Grandma brought mom
and I home to Hampton after New Years of 1952. When we arrived, dad was gone again. Neighbors reportedly
saw him load a suitcase in his car and leave some time earlier.

A couple of months later, he called from New Orleans, Louisiana, apologized
for leaving again, told mom that he had found a job as a milkman, and
begged her to join him. I was not privy to what transpired between my
parents at that time, but I know that my mother loved my father deeply, and
against her parent's advice, we soon left to join him in New Orleans. I
remember almost nothing of the next few months, except for the scene that
occurred the day my father left for the last time. I remember mom trying to
stop him from leaving and hiding the car keys behind her back. I guess I didn't
really realize what was happening and thought they were playing a game, as I
Dad & I; Easter Sunday picnic at
remember telling my father that mom had the keys. Audubon Park in New Orleans - 1952

My mother and I returned to Minneapolis where I attended first grade and
we resided at 628 21st. Avenue. Apparently my father originated illegal
divorce proceedings in Mexico and my mother initiated her own suit in
297
1953, As a result, she was awarded custody of me and child support.
Apparently my father had a new love interest as by that time he had met
another women by the name of Margaret (Maggie) Hall (married name),
who he was interested in. I never knew how my father ultimately picked
New Orleans as a place to live, but its reputation as a party town and the
“City that care forgot” certainly seemed to be well-suited to his
temperament.

I don’t condone what my father did nor do I understand his thought process through this whole episode. I do
know that many men go through a personal crisis where the constraints and responsibilities of married life can
be viewed as a heavy load to bear. At some point a choice has to be made between the love, respect, and
future of their families or the freedom they feel they have lost. My father was clearly an intelligent person with
some conscience as his return to Iowa from California and his attempt at reconciliation in New Orleans seem to
demonstrate. However, ultimately, like so many have done before and since, he chose freedom over marriage
and fatherhood.

When my mother and I joined my father in New Orleans for the last time, he was
working for the Estelle Dairy as a milkman. In 1956, my father's sister Nora and her
husband Marvin Richardson, also moved to New Orleans. My father had expanded
from one to three milk routes, and Marvin began working for him. Unfortunately,
the route had been expanded too rapidly, and my father could not make his
scheduled payment to the dairy due to outstanding payments that he was having
trouble collecting. Although he requested an extension so that he could make
necessary collections, Estelle saw fit to deny him credit. As they had decided not to
work with him, he decided to return the favor and promptly sold his route to Mom & I at grandpa &
grandma Anderson’s
another dairy. This caused an instant change of heart from the Estelle Dairy, but
house in Ellsworth, WI
my father proved to be as inflexible with them as they had been with him, and the transfer of ownership was
consummated.

83