Mama and Papa were very different. Mama was a very even-tempered person. I can only remember her a couple or three times being riled up enough that you’d really say she was angry. And Papa was just the opposite. He was a “fly-up-the-creek”! He was a short-fused little bomb ready to blow up at any moment, and you never knew just what was going to make him blow up. But he got over it quickly. He never held a grudge or anything. I guess he was like I am. Erminna Viola Strawn (1868-1939) &William Faber Bradley (1860-1936)
Herbert looked very much like Papa, and he had a temper about halfway between Mama and Papa. He didn’t blow up as quickly as Papa did and he wouldn’t take as much as mama did before he got angry.
Herbert William Bradley I (1886-1965)
Lee was Papa in temperament; and exaggerated. He really had a short fuse, but he looked more like Mama.
I don’t remember meeting Uncle Lee, but I do remember a story about him. He was a forest ranger in Lemhi County, and was assigned the task of finding and killing a rogue bear who had been killing livestock. He shot the bear, but only wounded it.. He came back the next day to finish the job, and the bear was waiting for him. Lee was mauled, losing an eye and sustaining other injuries, including a bite inside of his mouth. Luckily, he survived.
Cecile leaned more toward Mama. She was a quiet, gentle sort of person; most of the time. I remember seeing Cecile lose her temper a time or two, but not anymore that. Of course, I wasn’t ever around her much, just when they’d come to visit, so I can’t tell you anything about her temperament. She was a beautiful girl; she looked like Mama. Cecile Minerva Bradley (1891-1977)
Frank was a mixture of Mama and Papa. He didn’t lose his temper easily, but when he did, you’d better watch out. Frank was the smallest of the boys. He was 5’9”, but he was husky and very strong. He looked very much like Papa, physically and in facial features. Frank Bryan Bradley (1894-1945)
Lee and Frank were only home part of the time because they were out working in the mines along the Salmon River. If the mines shut down, they would come home. I was always so tickled to see those two or either one of them! I was tickled plum to death to see my big brothers. And then of course Frank joined the marines during the First World War. He stopped by the school where I was, and somebody ran me to death so he could tell me goodbye. That was the worst thing that had ever happened to me. I just knew he was going to war, and I was seeing him for the last time. Nobody could have told me any different. I knew I was telling big brother goodbye for the last time.
Claudia (our grandmother) looked like Mama in facial features, except that she had a pug nose, where Mama had a long slender nose. But otherwise, they look very much alike, the shape of their faces and everything. Physically she was built more like Papa. She was small but a sturdy small. And very smart, very intelligent. She wasn’t as even-tempered as Mama and she wasn’t as explosive as Papa, by a long way. And when she did explode it was a very quiet explosion. You just knew that she was angry with you and that was that. In all the years of my growing up until I was eight, (that’s when she left home and was married), she just slapped me once.
I guess I deserved it. We were watching for somebody to come over the coal hill, and all of a sudden, I said “Well for, God’s sake why doesn’t he come?”, and BANG! I got taken alongside the face and Sis said, “Don’t you ever say that word again!” And I was just bowled over because I didn’t know I’d said a word that was wrong. But you can be sure I never said that word before her again! But then the minute she did it she was sorry she did it because she hugged me. Claudia Winona Fields Bradey. (1898-1985)
Glenn had Mama’s disposition right down to the last whisper. Even looked more like Mama. And still I never have been able to figure out exactly who Glenn did look like. He had the only Roman nose in our family, but it was long and slim like Mama’s, and his face, of course was slender, and he grew so tall. People on Papa’s side might heave been giants for all I know. But as for temperament, he was just like Mama. He was always slow to anger and very tolerant. And emotional. Now see, Claudia was like Frank and Lee. She didn’t cry. She was in control of her emotions always, except for anger or laughter. She laughed very easily. But Glenn was very easily moved to tears, always has been. Glenn Strawn Bradley (1905-1992)
I never saw my parents show affection toward each other unless one was hurt or sick. They worked together and raised their kids.
When Mama got tickled, the tears would just stream down her face, and there’s one of my nieces just exactly like her; Thena. They didn’t make much sound, but they laughed so hard the tears rolled down their faces.
Papa was interested in history. Other than taking care of his family, it was history and politics, both state, national, and world politics. Mama liked to tat, knit, and crochet, and she read periodicals, farm magazines, and ladies’ magazines.
Papa was a great fan of Napoleon, and that’s where I got my middle name, Josephine, Napoleon’s wife.
One of his children who picked up his love of history was Claudia. She would have loved to have been an archaeologist. It’s a good thing she didn’t seek this path or we wouldn’t be having this conversation!)
I remember a time when our dog, a beautiful big Scotch Collie, saved Glenn’s life. We were out chasing cattle away from our fences. We were on a steep hillside, and this old cow had a calf and Glenn was getting too close to her calf, I guess, because she just whirled and charged him. You could just see a golden streak and that cow was down the hill just end over end. Our dog Bob had come from, lord knows where, and Glenn said he never knew where he was either. But all of a sudden, heading for that cow was a golden streak and he just jumped and grabbed her by the nose, by the nostrils, and sat down. That cow just rolled over the top of him and rolled clear to the bottom of the steep mountain. If it hadn’t been for that dog, Glenn wouldn’t be here.
Bob is the dog that used to take a skunk to the creek and wash it off. When Glenn and I would be up wandering along the creek up there, every once in a while, we’d run into a skunk. Of course, it fascinated Bob and he’d go after it. He knew it was going to hurt but he went after it anyway. He’d get a hold of it and drag it out from under its pile of bushes or whatever it was under and take it down into the creek and just wash it and wash it and wash it, and just shake that thing and he’d bring it out on the bank, and it still stank, so he’d take it back to the creek. I don’t know how many times Glenn and I stood there and watched him take that skunk into the creek and wash it off and come back out with his eyes just running tears. That stuff is hot, I guess.
I think we’ve covered quite a bit. Hopefully we’ve brought out some things that will be new to some people.
