Loretta “Lorrie” Mae (Foster) (Barber) Rhodes

1933-2000

Our mother was born Patricia Ann Baber on June 12, 1933 (the same day of June as my wife Karen) in Omaha Nebraska.  She was the daughter of Delbert Baber, a barber by trade, and the fifth child of Elva Ford, a housewife.  Elva’s first three children were Mom’s half siblings, the fourth, and her full brother, our Uncle Jack.   As Delbert and Elva remarried, Mom would ultimately be related to ten siblings.

Mom was adopted shortly after birth as the only child of Carl Foster, a farmer, and Jennie Hazel (Rayborn) Foster, a housewife and our grandmother, and given the name Loretta Mae Foster.  Carl and Hazel had been married for over 16 years without children before the adoption (Grandma married at age 16).  Uncle Jack was adopted out as well by the Shinn family and named Benjamin Jack Shinn Jr.

Mom and Uncle Jack never knew each other or their siblings growing up, even though they all lived and farmed relatively close by.  Mom’s search for all her siblings and her birth parents defined a lot of her adult life.  In my view, adopted children act like toggle switches, either longing to connect with their past or having only a passing interest in what went before.

Even though Mom was an only child she was not lonely.  She grew up with 35 cousins, eight in California alone and three stepbrothers from Oregon.  Mom was very close to cousins Margaret and Betty Chapman (Leora’s children), and Robert and Barbara Rayborn (Earl’s kids), all of whom are now deceased.

Grandma and husband Carl, along with Grandma’s siblings Leora and Earl, settled in California, having travelled back and forth to Nebraska at least twice prior.  The rest of her extended family remained in the Midwest, mainly Nebraska.  We all knew Aunt Leora and Uncle Earl pretty well.  If you want incredible insight into their lives in Nebraska and California at that time in history, watch the PBS production of Ken Burns’ “The Dust Bowl.”  It’s available on Netflix and other platforms.  It left a marked impression on me as they were at the epicenter.

The Fosters were living in Wheatland California working on the huge Horst hop ranch along the Bear River when Carl died in 1947.  Mom loved her father Carl deeply and never fully got over his death.  There on the hop ranch, Grandma met long time widower Skip Wattenbarger and they were married in 1948.  Grandpa had three sons from his first marriage not living at home.  Mom didn’t get along very well with Grandpa Wattenbarger, largely due to her ache for Carl.  She quickly fled her new home environment now living on the Sacramento Horst hop ranch along the American river at 17 to marry the young and dashing Navy reservist, Leland Frank Barber on May 9, 1950.

I’m somewhat rushing to write this bio before I forget much more of Mom’s life.  All of us remember many extended conversations with Mom about everything, sometimes well into the wee hours.  I’m sure many of those talks had to do with her growing up but I no longer recall many details.

The few pictures we have clearly reveal she was a beautiful child and young lady.  She loved and was good in school, attending classes in both Wheatland and Marysville.  She had a beautiful voice and loved to sing lifelong.  She really enjoyed following celebrities and had stacks of Hollywood gossip magazines sitting around long before those publications became so salacious.

I must report that Mom had the most beautiful penmanship I have honestly ever seen.  It was artistic and flowing, yet very precise, consistent and always legible.  I’m fully in the camp of eliminating teaching cursive.  A sample of her handwriting may be the only vote needed to retain such instruction, perhaps no longer as penmanship but as an art form such as calligraphy.

Her marriage to Lee produced a child in July 1951.  He was stationed at Mare Island and they lived in a trailer at the base entrance.  Mom felt lost as a new mother and often cried openly that she couldn’t get me to stop crying.  I still cry for long periods for no reason.  July 1952 brought forth their second child while now living in Sacramento, whom Lee said was the most beautiful baby he’d ever seen.  What happened?  Still in Sacto, Rich came in December 1953 and carried the namesake “Harvey” which had been passed down in the Barber family over generations.  Dennis still affectionately calls him by the same handle.

We all know the story of their last child Robert who died shortly after birth, so we never saw him.   We were all too young to process the loss very well except to say that Mom came home from the hospital without any anger or bitterness just more love and affection for us all.  Robert died of a birth defect involving a hole in his heart.  Mom was left with a hole in her heart that would be repaired in a brief time with the birth of two more very healthy children.  So back to names beginning with, well, can I have a “D” Pat?

Her marriage to Lee was clouded over with debt and lack of stability.  Sadly and ironically her second and final marriage to “Ray-Dad” was spent under the same stressful lifestyle.  For all her positive attributes she was deeply flawed in judging character.  She gave everyone the benefit of the doubt, believed without reason that people improve and mature.   Maybe she was trying to find another Carl?  In the end and in my sole opinion, these blind spots would prove emotionally injurious, brought on strong irrational fears such as being alone and weakened her immune system until premature Alzheimers and cancer overwhelmed her, taking her from us way too soon.  I will editorialize no further and stick to facts – well, maybe.

She was extremely well liked, loved and respected by our extended families, friends and work associates.  I was really amazed by how many people attended her funeral service, some that hadn’t seen her in a very long time and others that travelled from as far away as Chicago.  I was really convicted when Uncle Jack turned around sitting just in front of me in the family seating area and asked who had written her obituary.  I guess we were all to blame in some way for its omission.  Maybe this summary can serve late but better than not at all.

Her second marriage to Raymond Rhodes in August of 1960 brought forth a 60s love child with flowers in his hair.  Doug proved to be a bridge for the blended families (both then and now) and became the positive focus of all.  A beautiful daughter finally arrived in 1963, a daughter that embodies Mom’s same style of compassion, care and lack of judging others.  She serves as a constant reminder of Mom’s beauty and grace, a visual legacy.   It was right around this time Mom started going by “Lorrie” instead of Loretta, except to Grandma.

The 1960s were a watershed period for Mom.  She finally grafted firmly to her brother after a near miss in the late 50s that even enraged Lee.  The importance of this to her can’t be understated and I have written about it in detail before.  It would be another decade or more before her search found half-brothers so loving and accepting that a massive family “union” was in planning when unrecoverable ill health began to shadow all.   Their letters to each other were filled with such unabashed expressions of love and affection that vividly spells out their joy in getting a second chance.

The 60s and 70s saw one child go to college, one join the Navy and one excel in music to such an extent that he would stay with it to this day.   All of these exploits saw her motivational fingerprints.  With the oldest children on solid tracks, this left time and energy to devote to the younger and to create many memories from sports to camping and boating.  During this time, she developed a real love of fishing (as does Jack).  Her love of the quiet avocation of fishing was in stark contrast to her very animated, easily excitable and loud personality at times.

I was never sure if she had to or wanted to but she often worked outside the home and was good at it.  Most memorably was her time with Aeroject, a NASA contractor building re-entry rockets during the heart of race to the moon, to longer term stints in the medical industry.  She sacrificed greatly for Grandma by caring for her in her home longer than my mother lived at home herself.  And she loved to grow roses.

She was feisty, fearless and funny in her outbursts of joy, especially when observing her children’s successes, however small, in public.  I was often concerned I’d see her running out on the playing field to slap a referee or argue a call.   She was a firm disciplinarian, a fastidious housekeeper and a queen of good intentions.

She had so many wonderful intentions it was easy to lose track.   The most confusing were often repeated unfulfilled plans for her quiver full of grandchildren.  Maybe she burnt out early by investing too much in her children that little room was left for the grandkids.  Dad who was inexhaustibly needy and insecure, having once declared that she gave her children clear priority over his needs, easily could have taken what room there might have been.   She really loved him and was deeply committed to him, overlooking unfathomable hurt.  Well, there I go again but how do you write a biography and leave out both sides?  Maybe I should call this her “unauthorized” biography.

In spite of her struggles, good intentions and premature death, I can honestly say she enjoyed life, was generally happy, loved deeply and was deeply loved, and had a personal relationship with Jesus Christ.  At her passing, she was survived by her husband, five children, 14 grandchildren and her brother in Idaho.

P.s.  The above was written mostly from memory.  Additions and corrections are welcome.  Well, mostly welcome.  – Love Dave