When school was out, we moved to Nampa. Van Engelens’ had a larger store there and they wanted Ellis to run the shoe department. In fact, Ellis went down before school was out. He found a rather large house which was part of an estate and had not been lived in for several years. He was given a substantial amount off the rent if he would clean and paint the place. He had it about ready for us when we came. It was a nice house and a nice neighborhood. Kenneth was in the ninth grade. Both here and in Burley he went to the store in the afternoon and worked with his father. Later, he worked in a variety store. I don’t know why we didn’t encourage him to go out for sports. His father had. But his father just liked to have Kenneth with him. I don’t think he even thought of sports. I know I didn’t. Ann was in the seventh grade, Dale in second and Carolyn ready to start first grade. Expenses were climbing and Ellis was not feeling much better so we decided I’d better teach. I got a job at Lone Tree, a school of grades one to eight about four miles north of Nampa. I was principal of the three-teacher school and taught grades 6,7 and 8. I was also hired as clerk of the school board. I taught there four years. I have always loved teaching, but those four years at Nampa were the best and most rewarding years of my teaching career. I had about 20-22 students in my class. Every fall when the migrant workers came, my enrollment would increase, sometimes by as many as ten. These students never stayed long: a week, a month, sometimes even two months. I did the best I could for them, but that wasn’t much. But my other students I truly loved and felt that I taught them well. I had two groups of students that I taught for three years. By the time I had had a student that long, I really knew him and he knew me. What they learned to take them on to high school and, in some cases college, was my sole responsibility. They were mostly kids who were bright and quick to learn. The one or two in a class who were a little slower were carried to better scholastic performance by the momentum of the group. What a joy is was to teach them! We went to all the schools around for baseball games, to the state legislature, to Caldwell, the county seat, to attend a whole week of a murder trial, to the mountains and many other places. Every place we went, parents went with us to provide transportation and just for fun. It was the greatest group of parents and kids I have ever known. In the top of the school was my classroom and another large room. We could open doors and have a huge room. The other teachers and I put on elaborate programs for every occasion. The whole community came. It was difficult to even find a place to stand. I’ve always thought one reason the kids were so neat was because they all lived on farms and had to work hard. They all had chores to do every morning and every night. Most of them worked for an hour or two before they came to school. As I remember there was only one L.D.S. family. But what church someone went to or didn’t go to, was not part of our school. My students were especially sensitive to my needs. Because of Ellis’ increasing ill health, I was under tremendous pressure. I had frequent, totally disabling migraine headaches. The only thing that seemed to help them was sleep. The kids could tell when one was starting because my pupils would dilate, my face get white and I would perspire. Someone always came up to me and said, “Mrs. Chase, go in the office (a little cubicle with a phone and a couch) and sleep. We’ll do our work and be quiet.” I would go because I couldn’t do anything else. Sometimes I’d sleep three or four hours. The kids would just quietly go along with their schedule. No one ever took advantage of my absence. When we went to Nampa, Ellis began to go to a heart specialist in Boise. After we had been in Nampa about a year this kind man told me, privately, that Ellis could only live another year at the most. He did not tell Ellis, but felt I should know. The doctor said nothing could be done for him. His heart had worked so hard that is was the size of a small watermelon. It took up so much room, that all the other organs in his body did not have enough room. He began to have trouble with his lungs, his kidneys, everything. We had to get a hospital bed for him and a tank of oxygen that he used all night or whenever he lay down. His medicine alone cost over $100 a month and that was a lot in those days. All this time, Ellis went to work every day and did his church jobs as well, but he looked terrible and felt worse. He wanted to spend every minute he could with his family. He adored his children. When he came home from work Roger, who was 1 ½ to 2 ½ at this time would run to his dad with books he wanted read to him. Ellis always sat down and read to him for a while. Then he’d have to lie down for half an hour and inhale oxygen before we could have supper. It was a bad time for the children. We had tried to spare them, but they could tell he was not well. I think the children were happy. Kenneth and Ann had lots of activities in the church. Kenneth had started high school. For a couple of years each of the four in school went to a different school. With my own P.T.A., that made five I had to attend. The best I could do was to go to each child’s three or four times a year. All the children did well in school. Dale never again had any trouble. I had always read to my children and I had them read to me almost nightly until they referred to read to themselves. Kenneth and Ann had piano lesson for years. Ann went on to be a good pianist. Kenneth got tired of it and quit. I had too any pressures so I didn’t insist he continue. Dale and Carolyn started piano lessons. Dale’s didn’t last long. He wouldn’t practice unless I sat beside him. I had to help him and Carolyn with reading, plus school, plus meals, plus washing, plus a million other things. I had to give up on Dale and the piano. Carolyn continued till about the time she graduated from high school, but never liked it. She was a beautiful artist and wanted to take art lessons. I was wrong to force her and I’ve been sorry ever since. Ellis’ Boise doctor had a regular schedule of work that included periods about twice a month when he was at the Mayo Clinic to work with patients they scheduled for him. The doctor was that good. Ellis and I wanted him to check and see if they could do anything for Ellis at the clinic. The doctor was sure they could not help, but he agreed to check. I could see Ellis could not live long the way he was going. He knew too, though he always believed something would make him better. The clinic agreed to check Ellis. His Boise doctor knew it would be a waste of time and money we could not afford, but for our peace of mind he made the arrangements. Ellis and I both felt he should go. Ellis was sure they could prescribe some new medication that would help him. I wanted to leave nothing undone that would help him. The appointment was made for the middle of September. I had been in school two weeks. I had to find a substitute and arrange everything at school. We planned on being gone one week. Jean and Wayne Van Engelen kept Roger who was 2 ½ and Dale. Kenneth, who was a junior in high school, Ann who was in the ninth grade and Carolyn who was a third grader were going to stay at home and take care of themselves. Kenneth was working at the variety store so most of the work fell on Ann. We didn’t leave Dale at home because he was too hard to handle. We caught a plane from Boise on Saturday evening. Ellis had worked all that day. Wayne and Jean took us to the plane and took all our children to see us off. We got to Rochester and found a hotel room. Ellis’ appointment was for early Monday morning. We found the LDS Branch and went there on Sunday. The branch president and his wife were so good to us. They were Brother and Sister Robert Wayne. They had been called on a mission to fill their positions. They were a source of strength and encouragement all the while we were at the clinic. The people at the branch were wonderful too. Ellis was examined all week. At the end of that time, the doctors told us that they might be able to perform surgery. They had just perfected a plastic valve to insert by the aorta which would do the work of the aorta. They had done four of these operations, the first one in July. They told us Ellis would have a 60/40 chance of surviving the operation. Without it, he would die soon. Ellis was shattered. I truly believe it was the first time he had really realized, or let himself realize, that he didn’t have long to live. I had known for a year. Ellis just kept saying, “My children. I have a little boy who’s only two,” over and over. We decided to have the surgery. We let the children and other people know we would not be back for a while. Fortwo more weeks they checked Ellis before they were ready to operate. He was in the hospital during that time. The first thing I did when he went into the hospital was to find a smaller, cheaper hotel room. The one I found didn’t have a bath. I had to go quite a way to reach one. But I could see that since our stay had been lengthened, I’d have to be very careful of money. During these two weeks of testing, Norval Wardle came to see us. He lived in Ames, Iowa and traveled a lot with his job. He found himself only 300 miles away and so had driven to see us. How glad we were to see him! He and Ellis had always liked each other and we had spent quite a bit of time with Norval and his wife Delsa. To get to the other hospital Ellis was taken through part of a vast network of subterranean halls that linked all of the medical complex together. I went with him and it seemed miles! Elders from the branch had administered to Ellis and we were as ready for the operation as we could be. It required a team of 27 people to perform the surgery which took 9 ½ hours. I had to wait downstairs in the general waiting area. I waited alone. One of the doctors on the team came to tell me that Ellis had survived the operation. His chances of ultimate survival were still slim, but he was alive. What a long, terrible day that was! I called home to let the children know. The first days after the surgery were almost unbearable for Ellis, even though he was partially sedated. They had made an incision down his chest, around to his back, and then pulled his ribs apart to reach his heart. That was what caused the agony. All those muscles and tendons, all that flesh! Every breath was agony. Ellis had to have a special nurse at all times. The one who worked the night shift was quite old. She looked something like my Aunt Rose who was a nurse and whom Ellis liked. In his delirium during that first awful week, Ellis thought Aunt Rose took care of him. It helped him. After seeing the agony he endured, there is no way I’d ever go through it myself. Almost any death would be preferable. After that first terrible week, Ellis began to improve and improved so rapidly that the were able to discharge him a little over two weeks after his surgery. Mr. Van Engelen had signed a note at the bank with us to borrow the money for plane fare and the expenses before we left Nampa. He had increased the loan for us when we had to stay longer. The hospitals all had to be paid in full before they’d finish their care. It took me six years to pay back the loan. Mr. Van Engelen was a good man. I’ll always be grateful to him for his concern and help. The doctor in Boise and the Mayo Clinic, after awhile of my small payments, cancelled their bills. I never ever knew the full amount of the clinic bill, but it was more than I could have ever repaid. All that wonderful team worked for no pay. I only met a few of the doctors. The rest I never saw, but I owe them all an incredible debt that I’ll never by able to repay. Everyone that I met in the town was kind to me. I found their public library where they wanted to check out books to people who had come to the clinic or people who were with them. What I saw of town, made me feel that it was a place of love and compassion. The branch president and his wife took us to the plane when we left for home. I loved them dearly. They had helped us so much. Ellis felt especially close to the branch president. When we got back to Boise, Wayne met us and took us home. We had been gone just a little over five weeks. Everything at home was fine. My mother had come to Nampa and stayed with the children who were at home for one or two weeks. Kenneth said he wished I’d taught Ann how to cook something besides eggs. I stayed home with Ellis for a few days and then went back to school, leaving him home alone. Ann or Kenneth came home to be with him for lunch. Carolyn and Dale ate at school and Roger was back with his regular baby sitter. The doctors had given Ellis no particular instructions. We had about four steps to our house which they said he could climb. They just told him to be careful. He was given no medicine to dissolve blood clots. What had been done to him and his treatment after he returned home were quite experimental. His surgery was only the fifth of its kind that the Mayo Clinic had done. Ellis had felt better after the first week following his surgery. In fact, that he felt better was about the first thing he realized after that one agonizing week. He caught a cold which lasted for about two weeks. When he recovered from it he felt good, better than he had felt for years. The doctors had predicted that his heart would gradually reduce in size so we looked forward to increasing good health for him. I took him to Boise frequently to see his doctor. One Saturday his doctor wanted him to go to a Boise hospital and be examined by some other doctors who were interest in his case. I had to wash before we went and were a little late leaving Nampa. I had to drive quite fast to keep the appointment. Ellis didn’t say a word about it. He could see how much I had to do. About the first thing his doctor did was take his blood pressure. It was sky high. A few hours later it was taken again and was about normal. Thought Ellis had said nothing, it was my hurrying and fast driving which had raised his blood pressure. Ellis kept feeling better and better. He could take care of all his needs. He didn’t ever have to stay in bed. Many friends would stop to see him during the day so that he wouldn’t be so lonesome. Wayne stopped in nearly every day and took him for a ride or just visited. A little valve that had been placed in his body was about two inches long, made of clear plastic and about ¾ of an inch at its widest part. It was shaped like two tiny milk bottles put bottom to bottom, but it was open all the way through. There was a little ball inside. As the blood flowed into the valve it moved the ball from one end to the other so the blood could not flow back as it had done before. Each time the ball filled and end of the valve there was a very faint click. You almost had to put your ear on his chest to hear it. But it was there and a real miracle. The last day of school before Thanksgiving, November 24, 1954 a Wednesday, I was a few minutes late getting home. Ellis was not there. Wayne came to tell me that he was in the hospital. Wayne had come to take him for a ride and Ellis had wanted to go in the store for a few minutes. They had started to the office which was up about two steps. Ellis suffered a stroke. A clot of blood around his aorta had come loose and gone to his brain. He never spoke again. His entire side, the right as I remember, was paralyzed. He could move his head and his left arm and leg. His doctor from Boise came at once. He told me that the stroke was so severe that if he lived he’d probably never move again, after years he might learn to speak and that his personality would be totally different. I never wanted him to live like that. He’d have hated it. Ellis had survived that terrible operation to have something else happen. I stayed at the hospital, running home once in a while to check on our children. I remember that I cooked a chicken for Thanksgiving dinner. It was a terrible day. Kenneth and Ann were at the hospital a lot. The nurses did little for Ellis, almost no medication, just one shot. No oxygen. I remember the window wide open all the time with a cool breeze coming in. I had called my folks and some of Ellis’ brothers. My brother Jim lived in Othello, Washington. He and his family had been in Idaho Falls for Thanksgiving. I didn’t know it and he didn’t know about Ellis. Jim and his family were on their way home on Friday night about two or three in the morning. They had decided to not stop and wake us at that hour. After they had gotten 20 or 30 miles past Nampa, Jim felt he had to turn around and come back. He went home first, then came to the hospital. Kenneth, Ann and I stayed at the hospital. Ann went home for a little while. The nurses said Ellis was dying so Jim went home to get Ann so she could be with her father. Kenneth and I stayed. Ellis died before Ann and Jim got back. He had been unconscious for hours. On second he was still alive and the next he was dead. When I got his death certificate is said he died of pneumonia. I remembered the open window and the absence of oxygen and medication. The doctor, know his future, had not tried to save him. I’ve always been grateful to him. I know Ellis preferred death too. He died about seven in the morning, Saturday morning, November 27, 1954. Ellis was 44 and I was 39. The children’s ages ranged from 2 to 16. His funeral was special. Kenneth and Ann sang in a youth choir of about 50 young people. The choir provided the music for his funeral. There was no problem about them getting out of school. Ellis’ brothers were his pall bearers. All our relatives came. Ellis was buried in Kohlerlawn Cemetery in Nampa on Tuesday, November 30, 1954.
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