Hazel J. Hren

June 14, 2010, Webb, Oklahoma - September 10, 2010, Gresham, Oregon

A Rosary Service will be held in St. Joseph the Worker Catholic Church, 2310 SE 148th, Portland, Oregon, on Wednesday, September 15, at 10:30 AM.

A Funeral Mass will follow the Rosary at 11 AM.

Please check back to this site to view periodic updates to Hazel's story in words and pictures.

Arrangements under the direction of Skyline Memorial Gardens Funeral Home, Portland, OR. (503) 292-6611

The following was composed Hazel's son, John J. Hren:

First please forgive me it is tough to put 96 years of life, love and family in a short condensed version. I have done my best just remember she was a hardworking good woman with a sense of humor who was willing to try most anything. She loved her family and friends with an intensity that was heartwarming.

Hazel Jane Wilson, Mom was born on June 4, 1914 in Webb, Oklahoma. She was one of what was to become 7 children of John and Gertie Wilson. She was 5th in line and the second of the two girls. The Wilson’s were wheat farmers. Mom loved working outside with her dad and brothers and her tom boy ways quickly earned her the nick name, Tommy. She had dreams of going to college and becoming a teacher. Her grades were good and she was the valedictorian of her class in 1933. But by then the great depression and the wind both hit western Kansas hard. The first of the great dust storms had started.

Mom would tell us about the family coming home and finding the house full of locust that were hiding from the wind and dust inside the house. It took brooms, wheat shovels, and wheelbarrows to clean the house. After graduation there was no money for college, and Mom stayed on the farm. Then her “Dad” died, and the dust storms got worse. The family came home from the funeral and had to use the wheat shovels, brooms and wheelbarrows to clean the dust away from the front door so they could get in. They cleaned the house, but it was tough to get the dust out, because every time they opened the door to take the wheelbarrow out more dust would blow in. Mom said they used the wheat shovels for everything except shoveling wheat. The corps failed again.

The family that was still on the farm, 4 brothers, mom and her mother, decided they had no choice, but to sell everything of value and use the money to go to Oregon. A place where there was no dust and the two older brothers could find work. So they sold everything and made $200. The 5 of them loaded everything they owned in a trailer and a Model T Ford and took off for the Goble Oregon. She was 21.

They arrived during strawberry season (she had never tasted a strawberry before) and the 2 younger brothers, her mother and her all found jobs picking strawberries. Mom was amazed that they got paid and could eat as many strawberries as she wanted. For the rest of her life strawberries were a favorite.

By the time she was 23 she had found a job sewing coveralls, in Portland, and had moved to the big city, and had her own apartment that she shared with just 4 other young women. The only problem in her life was that her family was sure she was going to be an old maid. Then she met a dashing young man Johnnie Hren he was wonderful, but her family was concerned he was after all younger than she was. He was just 21. Marrying a younger man was frown on in those days. Mom was not to find out until after he proposed that the reason he waited 3 years to propose is that he wanted to be 21 when they got married he was 5 years not 3 years younger than she. The family was appalled. Mom was delighted she was getting married. They got married, and she found her new mother in law was no happier than her own family, Iimage her Johnnie marrying an older woman. Mom and Dad were only married for 54 years until dad died. They bought their first home a house boat for $24 it was 20 X15 a rousing 300 square feet. They wanted children, but that appeared not to be in the cards. Then eight years later just before the adoption of a little boy came through Mom found herself pregnant with a son, me. The great flood in June of 48 found my mom walking on floating planks from the house to highway 30 on the highest water day of the flood. A new baby made the new parents question living on a house boat it wasn’t as safe as it could be. They bought a start of a house on a small piece of land in Scappoose. Four years later after having no luck having a second child they started the adoption process for a little girl, and true to form Mom was preggers again. Also true to form a little girl and that would be my sister Jane.

That house in Scappoose would be home until my after dad died. That house was always under some kind of construction and for years had a woodshed that my mom build. Dad had a job that kept him working 12 hours a day and the wood couldn’t get wet. How hard could it be to build a wood shed? So mom built it. Of course the roof had 4 different pitches and wood would naturally roll toward the door because of the unlevel floor, but my dad said it was “hell for stout”. God answered one of my mom’s constant prayers during the building “dear God just keep the roof from leaking”….it never did leak.

During these years Mom developed her water fighting skills and was always looking for a new victim. One summer cousin Beth spent the summer, and of course the kids began to water fight. Beth had a perfect shot at Mom who said don’t you dare. So Beth turn to walk away, and of course Mom pulled out her hidden water and drowned her. Years later in her 80s her grandson JC threaten her again with water and again the don’t you dare, as he walked away she turned the hose on him. Every kid learned never turn you back on her she was a back shooter.

Mom was always a hard worker and up for most anything. There was the time that the big maples need trimming and her son yes me convinced her that the two of us could do it with a little help from Jane. Dad would be surprised and pleased. So up the tree I went about 30 feet, and cut off the problem limbs they were only about a foot thick. Huge limbs all over the front yard were the first indication Mom had that maybe she should not have let a 12 year old do the cutting. The three of us worked like crazy, and the front yard was cleaned up when Dad got home. He won’t notice, and everything would be fine. He noticed.

The kids graduated from school, and went off to college, and good lives. Mom thought she was a success. Then a heart attack struck Dad. Life changed and they decided if they were going to retire then was the time. They also began walking at least a mile a day then increasing to 3-5 every day. And since walking was boring they began searching for cans or nickels as they called it. When the cans finally got turned in there were over $1000 in “nickels”

With retirement they entered what became known as the travel era. Back in the day there used to be a senior ticket that you could buy and fly anywhere Eastern Airlines flew as often as you wanted for one year. Mom was old enough, but Dad was not so he became her travel companion. She used to say that’s what she got for marrying a damn kid. They once went to Florida to watch a space launch. They flew home did the laundry and mowed the grass, and then flew back to Florida to watch it land. They cruised everywhere in the world that had a cruise ship or water. Mom and Dad had their priorities, and a big buffet was the answer.

They gardened with a passion. ½ acre of vegetables every year, more berries than Smuckers could use, and most of it was given away. ½ acre of lawn, so after Jane and I left they bought two things that were “simply unnecessary” while the we were home. A dishwasher and a riding lawn mower. With so much travel it took too long to mow the grass with just one mower. So they went to town and bought 2 matching mowers, and had lawn mower races.

Dad died in 94 and Mom lost a soul mate. A year later she sold the house, no fun to race a mower by yourself, too much work for one old lady she was 80, but only looked 67-68. On one of the last times the whole family was in the house Mom suggested we play a game of spoons. A card game that requires each player grab a spoon there is one fewer spoon that players. No spoon you lose and each round one more spoon is removed. The fight for spoons can be intense. On one particular vicious round her son and law Lee got a spoon and her Daughter in law Jeanne got a spoon she however did not get a spoon. So she grabbed her face and began to softly moan. They of course ask what was wrong, she responded oh nothing, I just got hit in the eye I am okay. Burdened with guilt the two lost their edge, and mom did not lose again even after the two victims realized she had been faking. Years later this was still called the lost an eye incident.

She decided she would move into Portland. Jeanne and I offered to have her move in with us, but she said “thanks but I think I would be bored there”. It is a bit of blow when your 80 year old mother declares you are boring. But we found the perfect place. The Village she could live in her own apartment totally independently, but there were all kinds of activities and trips. You could also meet and greet. Mom quickly settled into a new routine. She walked every day, she gardened, but on a smaller scale, got involved in all the activities, that bus did not move without Mom on it, and she found she could volunteer in the kitchen. Not all the time of course, just 4 hours in the mornings every day. She also found she could assist some of the older residents, as she said “some of those poor old soles were in there 70s”.

The first Christmas after Dad died Mom won a 25 cent bet by sliding down a two story stair railing. That was Mom willing to try anything and always up to some mischief her only two vanities in her life were that her children were beautiful and after 60 she never looked her age

Mom’s 90th birthday was a great occasion she was most pleased to be 90 and most people agreed she didn’t look a day over 75, and she could still work most of us under the table. But on that June 4 the largest ice cream social every held at the Village occurred, Jane and I our spouses, our families, and a bunch of our friends served about 50 gallons of ice cream enough chocolate strawberry, and caramel to float a small boat, and do not forget the nuts and sprinkles. She talked about it for months even years afterwards.

When she was 93 the dementia began to rear its ugly head, and independent living was no longer possible, but she assured me that she could beat it. She would just concentrate harder. She moved across to the assisted living area. When she left the Village 3 ladies she always helped sent cards of thanks for all the help over the years talking about how they could not have made it without her help with household chores, carrying groceries, and the like. They were 69, 72, and 78. Mom was 93, but only looked 77-78.

She was happy to find there were trips, and a bus at her new home. She planned her return to independent living, but dementia had other plans. She was being visited now by delusions, and not all of them were friendly. At Christmas a year ago Pam bought mom a poinsettia, and on a visit I noticed it looked like it had been run over. I asked about the plant, and mom explained. The night before she had awoke and found a drunk sitting at her table. She asked him nicely to leave; he refused, so she decided to persuade him, and threw the poinsettia at him. She said, ”As soon as I threw it I knew two things for certain one he was a delusion and two the poinsettia was not. Pam bought Mom a new poinsettia.

The delusions got worse, and doctors and staff agreed Mom needed memory care, and so we moved for the last time. Mom got a roommate, and a very small room, and for a time she flourished. She began to sleep better, and to go on trips, yes there was still a bus. The dementia was not to be denied. She began to speak of going home to see Johnnie, and her mother. Then last Wednesday she announced at breakfast that she wasn’t going to eat and she wanted to go to bed. She remained there until about 4am on Friday when she quietly went home to see my dad. She was 96, but looked 84.