I Remember Grandma
The Story of Louise Kern Blome
By Louise Seth
My grandmother, Louise M. Kern Blome, was certainly a colorful character. I remember her as being tall—she was taller than my dad and grandpa but shorter than my uncle. She was very partial to boys, having had three of her own. My dad, Fred, was the oldest. The second, George, died in infancy. The youngest was Uncle Al, Albert Herman Adam Blome. Her father had been a tavern keeper and money lender. Her husband also ran a tavern in Gardner, Illinois, until about 1886, when they moved to Clinton, Illinois and Grandpa operated the only cigar factory in the area. The wording on an old postcard from Germany leads one to believe Grandpa learned the cigar making trade in Germany, or at least started to. He was only 14 when the family emigrated to the US.
Grandma was a hard worker and very ambitious for her family. She became a skilled cigar maker and used this skill combined with her skills with the needle, design, and money management to send my dad through medical school and my uncle through dental school. She utilized her skills with needle and design in the millinery business. This was back in the time of long hat pins and elaborate made-to-order hats. The millinery store was no more by the time I arrived on the scene, 1918, but Grandma still operated a shop where she did custom hemstitching and sold stamped pieces for embroidery, embroidery thread, and sewing thread. Still kept in boxes on the shelves were old hat pins, velvet and other material for constructing hats and quite an interesting array of trimmings, including feathers, flowers, and beads of all colors, none of which I was ever allowed to touch.
Grandma could crochet without looking at her work. She did beautiful embroidery work and taught my dad to embroidery and also was my first embroidery teacher. Newspaper clippings attest her skill at quilt making. She made and designed many quilts, both appliqué and pieced.
One clipping speaks of her ability to play the organ and piano. I never heard her play, but do know that she saw to it that her boys had a good musical education. Both Dad and Uncle Al played in a band. Dad played the clarinet, piano, violin, and mandolin.
Grandma had a good head for business and was the one that saw that the Blome family got ahead financially. She and Grandpa had built a business building that included two store spaces and three apartments. This two story building is located on East Main Street in Clinton. At the time of the ’29 Crash, Grandma lost invested money. After that she was even more careful about the way she spent her money.
I imagine I saw my grandmas almost every week while I was growing up, but I never felt very close to her. She was not given to fondling little girls. Once my cousin Barbara and I were invited to stay over at Grandma’s. The cigar factory was in full swing at that time. While the cigar makers were off for lunch, Barbara made two cigars. Later in the afternoon, we sneaked behind the building to smoke them. Grandma caught us and was sure we would be sick, so she called my dad to come. Although we didn’t suffer any ill effects from our first attempt at smoking, I was never again invited to stay the night.
One clipping states that Grandma and Grandpa Blome were members of the Presbyterian Church. I know that my dad had attended that church, but I always thought of my grandparents as being Lutheran. There was a time that whenever we went to see my grandparents we found a group of Lutheran ministers there—busily puffing cigars and drinking Grandpa’s homemade wine. Clinton was a convenient stopover from the Lutheran Seminary in Naperville and points south where the student ministers were conducting services. Grandma tried unsuccessfully to match up Cousin Barbara with one of the student ministers. Barbara was certainly not in favor of the attempt. I was glad I was too young for any thoughts of matchmaking.
I a Bible study book belonging to Grandma, I found some old clippings about Spiritualism. I also remember hearing talk about séances, but whether she ever attended one or not I do not know.
I remember Grandma and Grandpa’s Golden Wedding Anniversary party with mixed emotions. Both grandparents were great lodge goers and both joined many lodges. The party was held in one such lodge hall. For my present to my grandparents I had written poems about each of them. Grandma or Grandpa had the Master of Ceremonies read these poems to the assembled group. I was quite flustered and didn’t quite know how to act. I think my grown-up cousin, Henry, sensed my discomfort, because he caught me up to dance as soon as the music started and here again I was on unfamiliar ground. I’d never danced in my life or attended a dance before. Poor Henry, in trying to be kind to a small cousin, only added to my bewilderment, and I began to cry. I felt I’d disgraced them all.
Grandma did not like to cook or do housework. Grandpa did most of the cooking and he was a real chef. After his death Grandma was often heard to remark, “Bread and butter and coffee are good enough for anybody.”
Grandma was a great talker. She and her two sisters, Dora and Gussie, could talk at the same time and yet answer each other’s questions. The three sisters used to take great pleasure in counting how many doctors and lawyers were in the family. Grandma’s sisters came to see her infrequently. If both came, Aunt Dora would be driving her Caddy. They would come to Kenney so that Dad could treat them to a meal at Kenney’s little restaurant. If Aunt Gussie came alone Dad had to drive up to Clinton and bring her to Kenney.
Grandma and Mom were never very fond of each other. Grandma really didn’t like females, and Dad had been HERS until he married at age 33, and she didn’t like sharing him.
One time at a family dinner my brother was sitting between Barbara and me. Grandma looked at us and said, “A rose between two thorns!” Dad quickly said, “You mean a thorn between two roses.” Grandma’s reply, “I meant what I said!”
Grandma dressed in old-fashioned looking, ill-fitting dresses. She was small bosomed and large hipped and store bought clothes needed altering to make them fit. But she would not have them altered and did not do it herself. She was often careless about her appearance and would leave threads on her clothing, saying, “Signs of my trade.” Once when she was wearing a light colored dress she decided to walk around the square with us. Mom said to her, “Did you know there is a brownish spot on the back of your skirt? We’ll wait for you to change.” Grandmas reply was, “No need to change. Folks will just think I sat in some mustard.”
When Grandma was no longer able to care for herself my folks tried to get her to come live with them in Champaign. She would only stay a short while and then demand to be taken home. Dad went with her and tried to care for her, but his health was too precarious for such a task and my brother, Frederick, finally persuaded her to go to a nursing home in Hallsville, Illinois. While there her failing mental faculties became even more apparent. She would write post cards to Grandpa asking him to come and get her. She often ran away trying to get home.
She fell and broke her hip and was taken to the Clinton hospital, where she died a few weeks later. Dad died two years later. He was her only surviving son. She had been afraid she would outlive all her boys and we are glad this did not happen. She, her husband, her three sons, two daughters-in-law, and one grandson are all buried in Woodlawn Cemetery in Clinton, Illinois.