Clarence and Florence in 1942 or 1943.

Howard County is made up of many citizens who have big hearts and work to make their corner of the world a better place to live. Clarence and Florence Hammond, who had lived here most of their lives, are two such examples.

A blind date

Clarence Hammond grew up in Howard County, on a farm a few miles southeast of Fayette. As the United States was recovering from the Depression in the early 1940s, he moved to Kansas City looking for a good-paying job. Clarence found a job working the night shift at Fairfax Aviation. Soon after, he met Florence Nellie Clark, from Kansas, on June 6, 1942, on a blind date. Ten days later, on June 16, they became engaged.

Clarence came home to tell his parents, Minnie and Ralph Hammond, the good news. His friend, Emil Johnmeyer, was working on the Ricketts place nearby. He remembers walking across the field to tell Emil that he was going to get married. “I was just bouncing over the field,” said Clarence. “My feet hardly touched the ground.”

As it turned out, Florence worked the day shift for the same company as Clarence. She was making $1 per day (very good money at the time) driving an elevator, but she quit her job when they guaranteed her a better job. She trained for six weeks to be “Rosie the Riveter,” but instead, became an airplane engine mechanic. Ironically, Clarence went to school to be an engine mechanic, but he ended up with the “Rosie the Riveter” job. They had a good laugh about it. Both jobs were involved with building B-25 bombers.

Florence and Clarence planned to get married in October, 1942, but World War II intervened. Uncle Sam decided to draft Clarence, so he joined the Army Air Corps. One night in September, on the spur of the moment, they decided to get married anyway. They realized that once in the Corps, men got an allotment of $30 per month; if they were married, they got $50. They took Florence’s sister and her husband, Alice and Ryan Moates, and drove to Olathe, Kan., on September 16th, to get married by the Justice of the Peace. The Justice happened to be out of town, so his wife married them, instead. They worried about whether their marriage was legal, but she assured them that she was the Justice “pro tem,” and that everything was in order.

Army Air Force career

Clarence left for the Army Air Corps on Sept. 25, a week after his wedding. The Corps asked if he wanted to become a link-trainer instructor. As an instructor, he would train cadets to fly planes by using instruments. The actual link-trainer is an airplane that doesn’t leave the ground—it sits on a pole. They sent him to Marana Air Base, 30 miles northwest of Tucson, for training. The base had been built to train the U.S. Army Air Corps on the North American AT-5 “Texan.” Clarence took the training, then spent two years as a link-trainer instructor.

(In 2000, Clarence had the opportunity to go to Dallas, Texas. While there, he visited the Air Force Museum, and saw the link-trainer on display, the exact type that he had used almost 60 years earlier to train many pilots.)

Florence quit her job in Kansas City just before Christmas in 1942. She took the train out to Arizona to live with her husband, but when she got there, she hardly recognized him. When they married, Clarence had been thin. During their three months apart, he found that the Corps supplied lots of food, all that he could eat, at each meal. While most men lost weight during training, he had gained 40 pounds. He looked so different, she wasn’t sure she still knew him.

The Corps next trained Clarence to be an aircraft engine mechanic, but then moved him to working on bomb bay doors. Florence got a job nearby, at Davis-Monthan Air Base, working at the PX (the retail store on the military base). Next, they moved him to Tempe, Ariz. They lived in a vacation cabin for three months while Clarence continued to work in the Corps.

Later, the Corps shipped him to Roswell, N.M., to become a radio operator. He learned Morse code, and could dictate 13+ words per minute. Again he was transferred, this time to La Junta, Colo., where he continued as a radio operator. They lived at Rocky Ford, and during his off hours, he earned extra money by working at the ice plant or the filling station. During their time there, an incredible hail storm hit. Hail stones were so big that turkeys were killed, lights were broken out of the town’s light posts, steel grain bins were punctured with holes, and a window was broken at the motel room where they were staying.

Eventually, in 1945, Clarence was discharged at Shepherd Field, Texas, just before Thanksgiving. Clarence had served 40 months. He and Florence returned to Howard County in November 1945, and rented a farm (just over the hill from his dad’s farm) for six years.

Home life

Clarence and Florence did not have electricity yet. Clarence’s uncle, Wallace Hammond, like many farmers in the area, used a Delco battery system when he needed electricity. “I remember I’d walk down there to my uncle’s house on Saturday night. He’d take one ear of the headphones and I’d take the other, and we’d listen to the Grand Ole Opry,” said Clarence. “I’d go home about midnight. When the gasoline engine died, it was time to go home.” The tank held about one gallon.

Not long after his return to the farm, the REA started hooking up farms in the area. “In 1946 or 47, Otis Long and I cut brush for about a half-mile as a right-of-way for an electric line,” said Clarence.

In order to get hooked up to the power grid, a farm owner first had to have his house inspected, to make sure everything was wired correctly. Clarence’s Uncle Wallace learned how to do the wiring, and wired a number of houses in the area. Wallace taught Clarence about wiring, and together they wired Clarence’s house. They wired one overhead light bulb and one outlet per room. “When we were finally ready, we turned it on, even though it was still daylight,” said Clarence, “and it worked fine.”

At that time, 40 kilowatts cost $3.45. His dad always watched the meter closely. If it got close to 40 kilowatts, he would shut the system down, so he didn’t have to pay extra.

As Clarence was growing up, hauling ice was a big annual chore for most farmers. In winter, they cut blocks of ice from a pond, hauled them to an ice house (usually a big hole in the ground, 10 to 15 feet deep with a pitched roof on top, located near the farmhouse), and packed the ice with straw. Protected this way, the ice usually lasted much of the summer. He remembers going to town one hot summer to buy ice after all theirs had melted. They bought 100 pounds of ice, but by the time they got it home, there was only 50 pounds left—the rest had melted on the way home.

After they got their electricity hooked up, the first thing they did was go out and buy a refrigerator. Now they could have ice any time they needed it, without all the extra work.

The family grows

In 1948, the couple had their first child, Bill. They did have a washing machine, but it wasn’t electric. They hooked it up to a gasoline engine. Florence had to do the laundry outside because of the fumes, but at least she didn’t have to wash all the diapers by hand. They had a three-burner coal-oil stove for cooking. Not much later, they got a 100-pound bottle-gas stove, which they liked much better. Back then, people didn’t own 500-gallon propane tanks and have it delivered. They bought propane in 20 to 25-pound cylinders. The fuel didn’t last very long before it had to be re-filled. Later, propane was available in 100-pound cylinders. The only outlet to buy it was in Columbia.

A couple of years later, in 1950, they had a second child, a girl, Julia. Dr. Leech and Lillian Kirby helped bring both of their children into the world. Lillian was a nurse and worked for many years at Lee Hospital here.

Farming operation expands

Clarence and Florence lived on the farm over the hill from his parents for six years. Then he moved his family to Callaway County for other farming opportunities. Six years later, they again returned to Howard County and bought their farm (60 acres) from Harold and Maxine Rhodes. The farm only had a three-room house at the time. Clarence took a chain-saw and cut off one of the walls, so that he could add another room to the house. Their good neighbors, Paul Ballew, Harold Mueller and Albert Shull, lent a hand to help him build the addition. Eventually, he added other rooms.

Clarence got an FHA home loan to buy the farm. As part of the agreement with FHA, Clarence had to agree to buy a pressure cooker to process his own food. Potential home owners had to prove they would be self-sufficient to get a loan. Applicants had to fill out a chart, telling how much they would can of each vegetable and meat, and turn it in with their application. This wasn’t a problem for Clarence and Florence. Florence liked to garden, and did lots of canning. She always canned dozens of jars of flavorful, homegrown green beans. They also picked apples, and she made gallons of apple butter and lots of apple pies.

Florence: accomplished cook, seamstress, homemaker

Many people thought Florence was an exceptional cook, as judged by the dishes she brought to neighborhood and church events. Her son, Bill, remembers one favorite recipe, Miracle Whip Chocolate Cake that was always a hit. When anyone ever asked her about how she had time to make it, Florence would always answer, “It’s a miracle it got whipped up!” Another favorite recipe was a chicken noodle dish made with Florence’s hand-rolled noodles.

Florence also was an accomplished seamstress. “She has an artistic mind,” said Marti Ballew, a neighbor and friend. “She could take a piece of material, and cut it out without a pattern, to make anything she wanted.” Son Bill also agreed. “She made lots of clothes for my sister and me. Quite often we’d get the cotton Purina feed sacks. She’d use the material and whip up a shirt or something else.”

Florence made lots of quilts, too. She had an old quilting frame from Ohio, handed down through several generations of the Hammond family. For the last few years, her friend Lorraine Wies came over occasionally to help quilt. Florence wanted to make sure she completed one for each of her grandkids.

One of the other items she sewed was a “quillow,” which was a combination of a quilt and pillow. It was a small quilted blanket, but had a pocket at one end. A person could put their feet in the pocket if they were cold, or the blanket could be folded up into the pocket, and be used as a pillow. She made dozens of them and sold them; people found out about them through word of mouth.

Another hobby of Florence’s was making dolls. The dolls had China heads and feet. Florence would stuff the white linen bodies, and make all kinds of doll clothing for them. She sold the dolls for $10 each, and these also became popular. She always sewed on a custom tag that said “Made by Grandma Flo.”

Clarence: farmer, community leader

Except for his stint in the military, Clarence was a farmer all his life. He raised cattle (Hereford), hogs (Hampshires and Yorkshires), as well as soybeans, wheat, corn and hay. He was elected to the board of the Mid-Missouri CoOp, of which Farmland was the parent company. He didn’t get paid, but as appreciation for his time spent on the board, they sent him on two trips, with Florence, to Jamaica and to Nassau, in the Bahamas.

Community-minded, Clarence helped organize the Rural Fire Protection District and served on the board for over thirty years. He also helped get all the county roads numbered, so that firefighters and emergency personnel could find the right home quickly during an emergency.

Florence and Clarence: ‘cheerful and friendly’

Florence and Clarence enjoyed their married years in Howard County. They were active members of Moniteau Chapel Church, and Florence was a member of the Dudgeon Wide Awakes Extension Club. They both were cheerful and friendly, and the neighbors enjoyed getting together with them whenever possible. Bill, their son, was impressed with his mother’s story-telling ability. Whenever they had a neighborhood gathering for a special occasion, or just to get together to play pitch and pinochle, she would tell stories and get people rolling on the floor in laughter.

Twilight years

When Clarence died in 2006, they had been married 64 years. Florence then moved away to southern Missouri to live with her daughter. Florence died recently on March 3.

Howard County lost two valuable members of the rural community, ones who always lent a helping hand to others, and who took on important responsibilities to make this county a better place to live.

CLARENCE’S FRIENDS HAROLD MUELLER (left) and Bud Mueller (right) with horses and a dog. The picture was taken sometime in the 1930s.

FLORENCE and Clarence sit on their porch swing in about 2004.

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