W. W. SCHOOF & THE MANHATTAN PROJECT

And So They Were Married

Written by Gladys Schoof (Karl's mother, transcribed and edited by Rebecca Schoof)

Gladys Adeline Forsythe Schoof 1914-1973

"It was 2:00 p.m. on January 7,1946.  The minister began reading the words of the simple ceremony.  The room was crowded with relatives.  It was very warm even though the door was open.  As he nervously mopped his perspiring brow, he thought of the events of the morning.
  In his mind there ran the hurried preparations for departure, the wrinkled suit that had to be pressed at the last minute, the car getting stuck against the side of the garage door, his meeting the friendly old minister, Rev. Pommerenke.

Rev. Pommerenke

 They had finally arrived at her brother's house about one o'clock. 
 There had been introductions, snatches of conversation and much bustling about.  
        Now she was saying, "I Do".  He felt a little at ease.  His hands seemed to be in the way, and he was afraid his vocal responses would stick in his throat.  But at last it was over!

Then they cut the big wedding cake, ate the reception lunch, took some pictures, and drove to Clay Center, Kansas to board the train.  They were showered with rice, but no old shoes, for the days of shoe rationing were still fresh in everyone's minds.
The conductor made a joke remark about the days events as he took their tickets.  It seems that he shared in the shower of rice that followed them onto the train.

HOTEL PRESIDENT, NOW A HISTORICAL LANDMARK

  Manhattan, Topeka, and Lawrence were scarcely more than blurs of light that evening superimposed on the brightness of their happiness. When they arrived in Kansas City, they took a cab to the Hotel President.
At the hotel entrance he was in such a dither that he forgot to pay the driver until he received a reminding tap on the shoulder.  And then he signed the guest register with his personal signature only to be reminded by the suave desk clerk that he had a wife with him, didn't he?
Tuesday morning they had breakfast in the hotel's dining room, and then they ventured forth to shop in the city's big stores.  They had their pictures taken, and made a few purchases; but, soon tiring of the noises and crowds, they returned to the hotel.

  They addressed, stamped, and mailed a number of wedding announcements and prepared for an early departure next morning.
 Wednesday morning the MOP stream liner whisked them into St. Louis, and the B (Baltimore) and O (Ohio) had them in Cincinnati before midnight.  They stopped at the Hotel Metropolis.  Thursday they had breakfast at noon at a queer little place that resembled a cafeteria, but wasn't, and seemed like a cafe, but wasn't.  That afternoon they saw "The Bells of St. Mary" at a nearby theater.        
THE BELLS OF ST. MARY'S MOVIE
 Friday morning they arose early.  In fact it was an hour too early as they discovered when they got down to the station.  They were at the boundary between the Eastern and Central Time Zones and the time changes were confusing.  But finally the L(Louisville) and N (Nashville) made its departure, and they crossed the Ohio into the rolling Kentucky hills.
  They rushed through the bluegrass and tobacco region and plunged into the tunnels under the Cumberlands.
 (The Cumberland Mountains are a mountain range in the southeastern section of the Appalachian Mountains. They are located in southern West Virginia, western Virginia, eastern edges of Kentucky, and eastern middle Tennessee,) 

 It had rained hard that day and the mountain streams were swollen so that there was water on both sides in Knoxville by early afternoon.

 They were almost home!  It was time to begin searching for the many household articles they would need.  And what a search it was!  The war had made many common articles scarce or virtually unobtainable.  Hen's teeth were plentiful in those days compared with electric irons, lids for cooking pans, bed sheets, nylon hosiery and many other articles.  But they bought their bedroom furniture that afternoon at Miller's.

    They caught the bus for Oak Ridge and arrived at "Atomic City" in the early winter dusk ."ATOMIC CITY" AT OAK RIDGE TENNESEE   

THE GUEST HOUSE

They stayed at the guest house the next three nights.  It was certainly an unpretentious establishment compared with the hotels in Cincinnati and Kansas City, but it was clean and roomy and the food was good.
 Saturday morning he taught her the first of a long series of lessons in patience.

Wilbur Willis Schoof 1920=1965

 While she anxiously awaited an opportunity to see their apartment, he dwadled away the morning, breakfasting, delivering soiled laundry, reading the morning paper and in general conducting himself as though he had as much time as the slow freight train through Arkansas.

  Finally they arrived at the door of 225 W. Fairview Rd.225 W. FAIRVIEW RD. -BUILT 1943  He swung her off her feet, shouldered open the door and deposited her on the threshold of their new home. Home!

  What a variety of physical situations that word can connote.  This was an apartment in which bugs cavorted on the floors uninhibited, seemingly unaware of the smoke blackened ceiling overhead.  Smoky window shades hung askew over the uncurtained windows.
  The fireplace hearthstone was dark and cheerless, but a blast of hot air from the furnace register struck the rain-streaked  faces of the newlyweds like a desert blast from the far Sahara. She began to examine the apartment and he also scrutinized it more carefully than had been possible on his earlier hurried visit.
  It was barren except for the kitchen which was completely furnished with an electric stove, refrigerator, cupboards and sinks.  To them it was home with all the promises and expectations the work can hold.

"Today the whole world knows the secret which you have helped us keep for many months. I am pleased to be able to add that the warlords of Japan now know its effects better, even than we ourselves. The atomic bomb which you have helped to develop with high devotion to patriotic duty is the most devastating military weapon that any country has ever been able to tum against its enemy. No one of you has worked on the entire project or knows the whole story. Each of you has done his own job and kept his own secret, and so today I speak for a grateful nation when I say congratulations, and thank you all. I hope you will continue to keep the secrets you have kept so well. The need for security and for continued effort is fully as great now as it ever was. We are proud of every one of you.^{" IN OAK RIDGE TENNESEE Wikepedia}

  She was already visualizing curtains over the windows and began estimating the number of yards it would take.  (It later developed that her arithmetic was a bit faulty, but it was a gallant effort.)

 He, too, had romantic visions of how the home was going to look.  While thoughts of polished floors, newly painted walls and sparkling windows, revolved in his cerebrum; he absentmindedly turned a knob in the bathroom and awakened from his daydreaming to find himself taking a shower in his Sunday suit.  Shortly thereafter, he discovered that another piece of bathroom furniture had the obnoxious habit of inundating the floor."

1965 Karl, Ron with Gladys,mom

Sadly, Karl's father passed away March 7, 1965 in San Pedro, California of lymphatic cancer at the age of 45.

  Shortly after his death a gov't official showed up at their door to discuss the circumstances of his death.

  Karl was around 18 yrs. old at the time and his younger brother around 14.

His mother passed away several years later, 1973 at the age of 59 shortly after having moved to Sun City Arizona, a retirement community,  for a very brief time due to health reasons.  She never even had a chance to unpack her belongings. 
 I never got to meet either of them but I was told that they both loved the Lord and served in their church.  Both are buried in Green Hills Memorial Park in Rancho Palos Verdes, Calif.

A SECRET CITY  CLICK HERE

1949

https://www.didyouknowdaily.com/story/oak-ridge-atomic-town

DEATHS DUE TO TOXIC EXPOSURE AT ATOMIC CITY

TIME CONTINUES ITS FORWARD MOMENT

Morning HAS arrived!  It IS another day!
The night was short, not all my dreams have come true.  Not that I want them to.

My thoughts run rampant at night with hours of laying awake.  They are full of replays of the day.  I have found a full moon staring at me one night and the next with clouds and showers, the lonely train whistle, or an unexpected rude awakening sudden thump.

It has been dreary, overcast, and raining in my beloved sunny California.  Writing is a source of pleasure for me.  It is a respite from a hurricane of crazy chaos that  envelopes me.
As I vacillate in time, I am caught up in past moments.  In some respects it has been a rough ride.  Life has been an unpredictable journey.  It has had many unexpected moments.
Yes, Time continues its forward movement.

As the last of 2016 approached, I was so grateful for God’s blessings, both great and small.  I have felt God’s presence all year long, and that’s made a difference.
God has given me much hope and has walked me through tough times.

With the loss of my youth, I have lost some hope that any of its benefits will ever return such as a good night of rest, health, hair loss, and the ravages of a disease that offers no cures other than to manage, evidences of decline, loss of agility, diminutive energy & initiative.
However, new perspectives in life come when one grieves over those losses.
If it wasn’t for the pleasures of youth and its benefits, I would not look back with gratitude for what the Lord has done in my life.  Leaving youth has somehow left me stronger and more at peace.
I have begun to run up against my limitations.  It’s a time of realization that time is limited.  I have reached the age where energy and circumstances no longer allow me to pursue some of the things I would love to.
I find myself contemplating “cultivating joy”
based more on internal spiritual values and less on the ever changing outside world.
The awareness that the last stages of life are rapidly approaching signals to living life with meaning and an eternal perspective.

 
Psalm 90:12 So teach us to number our days, that we may apply our hearts unto wisdom.
13 Return, O Lord, how long? and let it repent thee concerning thy servants.
14 O satisfy us early with thy mercy; that we may rejoice and be glad all our days.
15 Make us glad according to the days wherein thou hast afflicted us, and the years wherein we have seen evil.
16 Let thy work appear unto thy servants, and thy glory unto their children.
17 And let the beauty of the Lord our God be upon us: and establish thou the work of our hands upon us; yea, the work of our hands establish thou it.

WHAT WILL YOUR RECORD SAY CLICK HERE 

THE CHRISTMAS CORNER

THE CARE GIVING SHIRT

I watched as my floral patterned shirt morphed into a favorite.  It became a meaningful piece of clothing I often wore on care giving assignments.
It became a familiar piece of clothing.  Besides being soft, a great fit, with vibrant colors it caught the attention of those I cared for and those I was fortunate to visit in the hospital.  It soon became a symbol that reflected my care giving.

Although this shirt is not worn much anymore, it hides many memories from the road behind me. 
It even captured the attention of my then three year-old granddaughter who asked why I was not wearing my "colorful" shirt again the next day. 


Surprising-first-days CLICK HERE 

LABOURERS TOGETHER

Labourers Together With God

   1 Corinthians 3:9

JUNE 13, 1947

 ^"For we are laborers together with God: ye are God's husbandry, ye are God's building."

⁽ “For we are God’s fellow workers; you are God’s field, you are God’s building.”)

For we are God’s fellow workers;

"

Looking At The Big Picture-1955

"Paul uses the possessive “God’s” three times, making the term “God” emphatic. Those who serve God belong to God as His fellow ministers. Here we are God’s “fellow workers.” The point is not that we are workers for God but workers who belong to God"

you are God’s field,

"The sphere of labor is God’s “field.” The sphere of our labor is where God wants us to labor. The word “field” carries the idea of cultivated field. We work on God’s farm, not ours. God provides the sun and rain and the photosynthesis."

You are God’s building!

ON THE TRAIL

The church is “God’s building.” A building needs both a foundation and a superstructure. Paul laid the foundation and Apollos erected the superstructure under God.

PRINCIPLE:

The entire RESULT of God’s work is completely HIS.

 Dad's efforts in visiting remote villages,only accessible by foot or horse, would later reveal remarkable results.  The inspiration of those first years treks were conducted in 1949 in the shadow of newly married life and the motto "We are Laborers for Christ", and in the shadow of previous missionaries, fired by youthful imaginations, they set out for  remote villages that were not friendly toward the gospel.  Those were volatile days.

DAD

Dad was more of a visitation circuit rider than a missionary.  As a speaker he was not perfect but he personally addressed matters of concern to his hearers. Although he may not have been prepared for some of the opposition toward the gospel, he did have the courage to continue on.  He did not advertise his meetings to many of those villages.  He used great discretion, and endeared himself to the people and local authorities when possible.  As Hudson Taylor became "Chinese",so Dad became "Mexican".  He had an appreciation for the language and a deep respect for the culture.
His journey's  were nothing short of remarkable given the difficulties of traveling in those days, let alone the animosity of those rooted in religious opposition to the gospel and danger he witnessed sharing it.

"Dr. Livingston, I presume?".

 I can only imagine how wonderful, yet daunting those first visits were and Mother was ready to go on some of them.  My mother was delighted to make music and was constantly looking for promising students.  The accordion was her constant companion.

Dad on our young mare, Trixi (?)

It is a credit to the endurance and tenacity that they accomplished as much as they did.  Even when they retired from Mexico, they continued in various ministries.

A Great Respect for God's Word

To me Dad was just my Dad and Mother was just my mom.  He had a sweet relationship with God and extended grace to all. Insights that reflect the greatness of Dad  he was dependent on prayer and God had put a message in his heart to go tell the people of Mexico about God's love.

MOTHER

One re occurring theme emerges, Dad made people a priority.  God put many people into his path.
 

.

MOTHER & DAD

A DEVOTION TO RELATIONSHIP my brothers perspective  click here

 THE CALLING click here for how God called Dad into missionary service.

THE WHITE T-SHIRT- click here

LIVE SO AS TO BE MISSED-Early years click here 

BUSTED AT THE BORDER click here 

READY TO FOLLOW -click here 

MY MOTHER'S NOTEBOOK, What were they thinking? click here 

CRYSTAL FLAKES FROM HEAVEN ~2005

The anticipation was mounting.  We continued to drive farther up the interstate.   The frozen piles of snow along the roadside soon gave way to endless blankets of snow as we reached the Emigrant Gap exit.

  The narrow road into camp was flanked with piles of snow on each side, we slowly made our way the last few miles.  Anticipating our arrival our son had plowed the snow earlier that morning.

He met us at the first gate. With only the tops of the orange snow stakes visible, the road led us to the first campground parking lot where we left our vehicle and hiked up the last mile. 
The feeling and excitement mounted as the snow banks increased in height forming a tunnel-like effect.  We trudged on, we noticed icicles forming on the tops of the snow bank that faced the sun. The snow glistened giving a sparkling, crystal effect.
"There are no words to describe to full extent the peacefulness and the magical feeling snow transmits", the feeling of being in a dream but not actually being in the dream.  Until this moment my knowledge of snow was limited.

 We walked on endlessly.  The bright sunlight, a deep blue sky and the snow draped world became a momentous day.  The air was fresh and crisp.  The beauty of snow covered trees is inescapable.
Just when I thought the road would never end and rounding that last bend an amazing, magical, world appeared. I stood in awe at what loomed ahead.
I was so overwhelmed, the beauty was breath taking, the lake was frozen and covered with snow, giving you the false illusion that one could just walk on over to the other side.  It was one of those memories that I wanted to hold onto as long as I could.
The tranquility and peacefulness was broken only by our foot step crackling sounds,and  an occasional joyful comment.

This was one of those times when one experiences the beauty and glorious art of the natural world that God has created for us to enjoy.  Can you imagine what the last bend in our life journey will behold as we round that last curve and see Jesus?

“Thank goodness for the first snow, it was a reminder--no matter how old you became and how much you'd seen, things could still be new if you were willing to believe they still mattered.”  ~Candace Bushnell

FIRST INTRODUCTION TO CARE GIVING

The realities of first-time experiences drastically changed my perception of nursing homes and work as a nurses aide.

At the age of 19 and out of desperation for a summer job, I joined the nursing team at the Alliance Convalescent Hospital in Glendale in the late 1960’s.  My mother worked in the kitchen and my father worked in landscaping.
Little did I realize or have appreciation for walking, breathing or feeding oneself.  I barely knew how to lock and operate a wheelchair.  Clad in a light, white classic pant suit in vogue those days, I began my first day.
My first few days were spent shadowing one of the other aides.  I won’t forget the shock of seeing bedsores that had eaten away someones flesh to the bone and lost limbs due to diabetes.
I won’t forget how quick I was thrown out on the floor to manage on my own.  I did not feel comfortable or confident and basically learned by observation and on the job.  I often felt overwhelmed by the conditions of those in my care and would go home exhausted.

I have never forgotten the smells ingrained in my nostrils, the fish market smell of UTI’s and of a hundred things that can go wrong with the bowels and preventing the next recreational adventure.
To offset my college expenses, I again worked at a nursing home that was located across the street from school in Portland.
After graduating from college, I moved to Southern California.  Unable to secure a job in other areas, I began working at the Broadview Convalescent Hospital in Glendale.
These experiences led to many other opportunities to work in senior care through out my life.  Some of them were short term while others were longer.
If I could sum up in one word what I learned from those years, it would be PATIENCE.

ROSES & THORNS

“We can complain because rose bushes have thorns, or rejoice because thorn bushes have roses.” ~ Abe Lincoln

 

"Without the thorns, the roses wouldn't last very long. So, you guessed it. The thorns on roses are a defense mechanism to keep them from being harmed." 

 

The Thorn

I stood a mendicant of God before His royal throne
And begged him for one priceless gift, which I could call my own.
I took the gift from out His hand, but as I would depart
I cried, “But Lord this is a thorn and it has pierced my heart.
This is a strange, a hurtful gift, which Thou hast given me.”
He said, “My child, I give good gifts and gave My best to thee.”
I took it home and though at first the cruel thorn hurt sore,
As long years passed I learned at last to love it more and more.
I learned He never gives a thorn without this added grace,
He takes the thorn to pin aside the veil which hides His face.

by Martha Snell Nicholson

  And lest I should be exalted above measure through the abundance of the revelations, there was given to me a thorn in the flesh, the messenger of Satan to buffet me, lest I should be exalted above measure. For this thing I besought the Lord thrice, that it might depart from me. And he said unto me, My grace is sufficient for thee: for my strength is made perfect in weakness. Most gladly therefore will I rather glory in my infirmities, that the power of Christ may rest upon me. Therefore I take pleasure in infirmities, in reproaches, in necessities, in persecutions, in distresses for Christ's sake: for when I am weak, then am I strong.  2 Corinthians 12:7-10

A Thorn Among Roses (Becky 3rd far rt.) 1973

 “He picked up one of Lorna's roses and set it in my lap. "Here." I picked it up and smelled it. He poked me in the shoulder. "See what I mean? Thorns don't stop you from sniffing. Or putting them in a vase on the kitchen table. You work around them.... Cause the rose is worth it... Think what you'd miss.” ~Charles Martin, Chasing Fireflies: A Novel of Discovery



 Another yet short fleeting immature relationship!  One of my mess-ups.
  I surprise myself in going over my journal at the amount of wasted time and youthful energy fantasizing and focusing on love relationships. How strong, the urge to marry in my 20 somethings. With all the other girls gone, the ratio was reversed.

"El Barrill"  (aka missionary barrel)

My future husband had busied himself with a college course in another state.  With him gone the pool was still strong.  We all had a blast, eating together, going to church together, working together, playing together, and looking together at possibilities.

Pressing Records

My future husband returned from his studies and the games began.

  I again pursued life with a renewed spirit, never expecting him to be my future husband and spend the next twenty three years of my life in some of the most exciting, the most financially lean, challenging, new experiences as home missionaries with Gospel Recordings.

My apt. on Witmer St.

Witmer St. from my apt. window

At Urbana (6mo. with child)

Life was not always rosy.  Lest you conclude that my husband is the thorn, I leave that for you to decide, however, it has been more than a thorny life but smelling and looking at the roses is well worth it.

At Urbana Conference with Joy Ridderhoff (Left blue coat)

THE JOY OF JOY RIDDERHOFF  Click here