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They produced ten children during twenty-one years of marriage, nurturing them as best they could in shelters ranging from our beloved brown house at Monkey Run to a huge canvas tent, an old Graham Paige sedan, and Gypsy campgrounds. When Daddy died in December 1939, Mama raised us alone during the dark days of depression and war. In time we each took our place beside her to help the family survive. I was the last to do so, and she lived with my husband and me for over forty years. Today, only two of their ten children survive. I am the one with the challenge to tell the story of our family as best I can. In dealing with old memories, I seem to have, again, found my childhood. Parts of it, especially those few years with my father, I had thought lost forever. This is a story of hunger, loss, and love. It is a story of feast and famine, good times and bad. But most of all, it is the story of our family.
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William Ossmer
and Ethel Lucille Fitch, came together from vastly different backgrounds to
form a marriage during a turbulent time. At twenty seven, my mother
considered herself an old maid school teacher. When her relatives met my
father, they were outraged and thought him to be a nee’r-do-well.
