Back in 1935, I was a young homemaker with a husband and no washing machine. We had been married a year and expecting our first child, and I had done the weekly washing with a number 3 tub between two chairs and a scrub board.
Bending over that tub made me feel like a pioneer. I couldn’t help dreaming how wonderful life would be with my very own washing machine.
Washers were readily available of course, but like most newlyweds, we were long on love and dreams and short on cash. So for us, a new washer seemed to be impossible for we wouldn’t go in debt.
Then one day Neil came home from work all excited and said the bank had paid a dividend on his money. He had a little there when the banks closed with the big depression.
So we sent through the service station for a new washer. My how the time dragged on till it arrived. I was overjoyed when it finally came. Thanking my Heavenly Father and crying tears of joy over a simple wringer washing machine. Something I had wanted and needed for a whole, so long year.
Of course the next day was wash day and I’ve never spent a happier day working in my household in all the years since. Every washable item in the house was thrown in that beautiful green Empress. I washed all day.
Neil had Ferry Peterson build a stand to hold the rinse tub and a boiler to heat the water on the stove. As I hung each piece of clothing on the line I was filled with pride and gratitude. No more pioneering for me.
Today a young housewife might think it strange that something as common as a washer could have brought me so much joy. But she’d understand in a hurry if she ever tried doing a week’s washing in a No, 3 tub between two chairs and a scrubbing board; heating all the water to go in the tub on a coal stove. My, I’m so blessed with a wonderful automatic washer 64 years later.
Alice Peel Hafen
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