Lois McConnell Randall (1921 - 2013)
Until
her own death in February, 2007, my mother and Lois had been friends since
their kindergarten days at San Bernardino's Riley School. (My father was in the same class for a couple
of years until my Grandparents Redman and he moved to a new neighborhood in San
Bernardino. The three were reunited at
San Bernardino High School in autumn 1936.)
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Lois's Senior Class Picture, San Bernardino High School Spring '39
In
my father's 1939 yearbook, Lois wrote the following:
Dear Paul,
We've had a grand friendship,
both through our mutual admiration for "a certain party" [Barbara Warboys] and because we seem
to get along pretty well together. I
hope it will always continue.
Sincerely,
Lois McConnell
And
it did, for another 66 years.
Until
the 1970s or so, my father was a registered Republican. I delighted in Lois' occasional tales of
political debates she had with my father.
In that matter, I was always on Lois' side.
In
1942, Lois and my mother and father were graduated from San Bernardino Valley
College.
(L-R: Lois McConnell, unknown, Paul Redman, Barbara
Warboys)
When
my parents married and my father finished his Army service in World War II,
they rented a house on Baseline Street
next to the McConnells'. When I came
along, Lois and her parents were a regular part of my early life. I was already very lucky to have two sets of
extraordinary grandparents, both living in San Bernardino; Lois' parents were
like bonus grandparents and Lois a very special aunt--whom I adored.
While
at the University of California, Berkeley, Lois met John Randall, and
eventually they were married. As an
adult, I never thought of John as athletic.
However, I do remember an occasion when Lois and John were visiting the
McConnells. One day, Mr. and Mrs.
McConnell, Lois and John, and my mother and I were together in their front
yard. I must have been three or four at
the time and had with me a helium-filled balloon acquired, as I recall, after a
day at San Bernardino's National Orange Show. At some point, I lost my grip on
the balloon's string, and balloon and string sailed skyward. Without hesitation, John chased after the
balloon. John made a valiant effort to
retrieve it. He was not successful, but
I appreciated his effort and was completely won over.
In
1950, construction of my parents' new home was completed, and we moved from
Baseline Street to a new neighborhood, leaving behind the McConnells, their
adorable dog Freckles, and a cat whose name I cannot now remember. Below is a photograph of me with Cat
McConnell.
Lois
and John visited San Bernardino annually.
Sometimes more frequently.
Sometimes less so, depending on where they were living. Occasionally, Lois visited on her own. In the meantime, I took great pleasure in
accompanying my parents for Sunday afternoon drives which sometimes ended with
a visit to Mr. and Mrs. McConnell, then living in Rialto.
In
1964, when I began living and working in Los Angeles, scheduling issues
sometimes precluded my seeing Lois and John on their visits. In that case, I at least had the opportunity
for a visit by phone. During a recent
major house-cleaning, I discovered several menu cards from 1982-1983. Among them was one from 7 August 1983, when
my parents, Lois and John, and Donald Nelson, a favorite Bronson Canyon
neighbor, came for lunch at the Canyon Drive house. For dessert, I'd prepared a tart which turned
out to be John's favorite.
Summertime
in the San Bernardino Valley can be unpleasant to visitors unaccustomed to
100-plus-degree daytime temperatures and nighttime temperatures that would dip
down, if one were lucky, into the 70s. I
do recall how uncomfortable John seemed on those occasions; Lois seemed never
to be bothered.
Throughout the years, we
exchanged cards, letters, and notes. I
needn't have looked at the return address to determine the sender, as Lois'
fine hand--not unlike my mother's--was the give-away. These days, one hardly sees penmanship as Lois'
had.
The
last time I saw Lois and John together was in Boston. By then, I'd retired from one job and had
gone to work as a flight attendant for a legacy airline company. In 1998 or '99, I had a long lay-over in
Boston and was staying in a downtown hotel.
Lois and John came from their home in Newton Upper Falls for a
visit--and it was, as always, a pleasure to see them both and to have the
luxury of spending time with them.
In October, 2005, my
father died. When I called Lois and John
to let them know the news of my father's passing, Lois answered. She was stricken, and, 3000 miles away, I was
helpless to mitigate the effects of the sad news I'd imparted.
In
January, 2007, Lois, now a widow herself, came to see San Bernardino and to
have what was to be a final visit with my mother. Lois' memory had been failing, and several
times she needed reassurance that the woman before her was actually Barbara
Warboys Redman. Nevertheless, my mother
enjoyed her old friend's visit, and I think Lois felt the same. I don't think Lois really knew how I fit into
the equation--but she was still Lois, as warm and loving as she always had
been. Within a month of Lois' visit, my
mother had passed away, then ending an 80-year friendship, remarkable alone for
its longevity.
My
mother was the youngest of three girls, and she was extraordinarily close to
her two sisters and to Lois McConnell Randall, her special, long-time
friend--and mine, too.
To Barbara -
May this memory book hold a
record of all the wonderful times we have had during our high school years, the
years before, and, I hope, the good times we shall have in the future.
Love,
Lois
Christmas, 1938
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