Remembering Mom on her birthday

Shirley Palke with husband Byron, center, and on fishing trip.
Photos taken in 1940s and early '50s.

Today is Mom's Birthday. She would have been 86. I miss her.

Shirley Mae (Allen) Palke was born on Nov. 7, 1925, in Los Angeles, California. She died in July 2003 in Salem, Oregon. But these statistics only mark a beginning and an end. In between she lived life, and along the way had a profound influence on my brother John and me.

She and her brothers Ed and Paul grew up in L.A. during the Depression years of the 1930s when money and sometimes food were scarce. Her parents Gladys and Ed died young, so she was raised first by her grandparents, and then a loving aunt and uncle. The three Allen kids did odd jobs and the small change they earned went into the family coffers for necessities.

Mom was athletic and excelled at academics at Washington High School. A couple of photos of her at school show her hamming it up with classmates on the campus lawn. She met Dad (Byron Palke) at church during the early years of World War II.

It was quite a pairing. Mom was a city girl and Dad (nicknamed Bud) was fresh off a Nebraska farm. Their courtship was interrupted by a draft notice from the U.S. Army. Dad was sent overseas pretty quickly, serving in the infantry in the Dutch East Indies, New Guinea and the Philippines. He was severely wounded in action and they were married not long after he arrived home.

I was born in 1948 and John in 1951. Mom stayed at home until us boys were through school and on our own. In those early days, Dad took the family station wagon to work at the cabinet shop. It didn't matter anyway because Mom didn't drive. So when we went someplace with her, we walked, took the bus, or rode with Grandpa and Grandma.

Some of those walks were special. Like the time she clutched my hand walking those few blocks to Woodcrest Elementary School on my first day of kindergarten. Or the first time she waited at the curb with me to meet the Sunday school bus. Other times, Mom, John and I would walk to the nearby Daylight Market or dime store on shopping trips.

In 1958 she took us on the streetcar to see a Dodgers game at the Coliseum. Another time, we rode the bus to see Elvis Presley in the movie "Jailhouse Rock."

Mom was a great cook and loved to have the extended family over for birthday or holiday meals. Her specialties: roast beef and mashed potatoes, fried chicken, ham or fish, macaroni and cheese, barbecue, and a Mexican casserole. If we liked it, Mom would cook it.

She also loved gardening, reading, travel, camping and family. She was great at Scrabble. Mom could be feisty, but she was a kind and gentle person with a big heart.

Over the years, she influenced me in many ways. She shared her love of music and the big bands and offered encouragement during my piano lessons. Her enjoyment of baseball rubbed off on me; over the years I've loved playing and watching the game. And it was her suggestion that led me to a career in writing and journalism. I was on the high school and college newspapers and became a professional journalist. After she died, Dad gave me a scrapbook that she had filled with clippings of my early newspaper stories.

I remember and honor Mom for these things and for the thousands of little things she did over the years to make our lives more enjoyable. And I know Dad, her brother Ed and John feel the same way.