Mary Eugenia Cones was born on February 26, 1911 and died July 6, 1982. We don’t know a lot about Mom’s upbringing. Fortunately, Aunt Phyllis in her memoir, Here We Go Again, provides us with a lively description of her upbringing. Mom was 15 years older than Phyllis, but Phyllis’ recollection of her youngest years will apply to Mom as well.
Edna Mae Price and Charles W. Cones produced eight children, from the oldest: Alta, Glen, Mary, Asher, Dick, Don, Jeanette, and Phyllis. Mom’s mother, Edna Mae Price, is of German and Welsh extraction. According to Phyllis, the earliest known Cones (Christian) sailed from Holland before the revolutionary war but could have been from any country in western Europe. He fought in the American revolution and drowned in the battle of Brandywine. I asked a genealogist about the Cones surname. He said it was likely a corruption of Koontz or Kuntz.
Some years ago, I read an informal genealogy of the Cones family that Mom had. I remember that Christian Cones had children that ended up in Grants Lick, Kentucky. I remember their descendants made their way to Missouri and then Indiana.
As far as I know, Mom was born and grew up on the same small farm as Phyllis just outside of Thorntown, population of about 1200. Life was hard, with no electricity and indoor plumbing. They had a horse drawn plow for the fields, and a horse drawn buggy to go to town. Phyllis said there wasn’t much money to go around. They were poor like many farm families. Phyllis recounts, and I remember Mom talking about this, that there was a small stream that ran near the house into a cement pool. This is where the kept perishables and got their drinking water. It ran all year.
I don’t think the Cones family had much in the way of religion. Her Pop was the son of a preacher, but Phyllis doesn’t know of him ever setting foot in a church. Mom was somewhere between an atheist and agnostic as an adult.
In 1931, the family moved into Thorntown. Mom graduated and left for Indianapolis in 1929, so she literally left the farm to go to the big city. The earliest letter that survives (May 10, 1929) is addressed to Mom at RR #4, Thorntown.
Phyllis recounts the death of brother Don, one of her earliest memories. Mom, of course, was greatly distressed. A very early letter from Edith (September 30, 1929) expresses her condolences. I think Edith is a mentor or former teacher; Mom sent her poetry that she had written.
In High School, we know she loved to write. Her high school year book lists here as a charter member and chief scribe in the Literary Club. Her best friend and later housemate, Mary K. Henry, is also in the Literary Club. The yearbook also mentions two young women, Katherine and Portia Piety, who later exchanged letters with mom. Mom wanted badly to go to college. I remember hearing about this from Mom, but years later brother Phil recounted a version as well. This is what I think I know: Mom had a partial scholarship to Butler University in Indianapolis. She never was able to enroll. I thought it had to do with the crash (which was October 1929), but Phil told me about a squabble about religion mom had with the principal of the high school. The principal wouldn’t give her a recommendation and she was unable to enroll. In September, 1930, the Thorntown librarian, a Mrs. Mitchell, tries to help her get enrolled, but is not successful. She thinks that Mom’s plan, to enroll in extension classes in try again the next semester, is a good one. Mom never did enroll in Butler but, of course, the great depression intervened.
Steve recalls a story Mom told him about a strict teacher:
Mom was a rebel in high school. She was in a class with a pile of books on her lap. There was no desk. The teacher asked her a question and Mom started to answer it, but the teacher told her she must stand up to talk. Mom said the books were too heavy. The teacher stood her ground. So Mom took the books off her lap one by one to put them on the floor and then stood up. She sat down and put the books one by one back on her lap while everyone watched. He then immediately followed with another question, so Mom put the books one by one on the floor again, only slower. This war of minds continued a third time, so Mom stood up and let all her books fall on the floor. She related that story to me with a sort of mischievous glee. High school rebels are different these days.
Mom also told Steve about teasing in the Cones family:
Like every well adjusted family, everyone in the Cones family teased each other. Her brother Asher would tease her by setting traps and surprises. Mom always swung from a low branch on a tree every time she walked by it. One day her hands were covered with tar from the top of the branch. The guilty party was the one who gloated the most – Uncle Asher.
Nothing is worse than a younger sister who knows your hot buttons (so we are told). When Jeanette was the newest kid grandpa doted over her and ignored the others. It seems her superior stature went to Jeanette’s head and she continually teased Mom. The height of that vexation was when Jeanette sneaked into her drawer and got Mom’s favorite hanky. She wiped her dirty shoes with it. It seems that decades later, Mom never got over the mean things that Jeanette did.
Papa Cones frequently took naps in a chair. He was a sound sleeper so the kids made paper hats and put them on his head and put dolls on his lap and other indignities. He was very strict. They knew he had no sense of humor and they knew they were playing with fire. He had a sort of pride about sleeping as though it were a weakness of sorts. When he woke from his obvious deep sleep he would always say, “I purt near fell asleep.” (Pretty near.)
His strict sense of decorum dared anyone to defy him in some arbitrary way that the kids didn’t always pick up on. When someone crossed him they were sure to be physically punished. Grandmother of course stood up for the kids. When he was on the war path against Mom, Grandmother got to Mom first and told Mom to run and run fast, which she did.
Someone gave grandpa a suit. His pride was not to be defiled by accepting charity so he wore it at his job digging ditches.
Mom got a job in Indianapolis at the Real Silk Hosier Mill in July of 1929. This is where she met Dad.
Wilson Cones Family History 