The book The Henna Artist (by Alka Joshi) includes scenes set in the Indian palace of the Maharaja of Jaipur. That brings alive a 1920s invitation in my possession–from that maharaja to my American grandfather, J.K. Pearce.
While this seems a huge departure from my recent blog posts on vintage sci-fi and Reawakened Worlds, it’s not quite the stretch you imagine. Yes, 1920s historical nonfiction and 1960s science fiction are different genres. But what they have in common is the past.
The connection between the two genres is an abundance of artifacts inherited from my own family. They surround me in my home office.
On one hand, I possess vintage science fiction manuscripts, author-agent letters, and magazines (Galaxy, IF, and others) with short stories written by my stepfather in the ’60s.
Yet I’m also surrounded by 1920s ephemera. That includes photos, film reels, diaries, letters, and unusual objects from my maternal grandparents’ time in British Raj India (1923-1933.)
Sometimes I can’t recall which time period I’m in, particularly 2024!
But back to how Grandpa met the Maharaja of Jaipur, and why a young American man from Washington State was in India to begin with…
Grandpa studied Forest Engineering at the University of Washington, then as an associate professor attended the Pacific Logging Conference. There he met a man who was working in the logging industry in India. That man encouraged my grandfather Ken (J. Kenneth Pearce) to apply for, take over, and expand his position.
So at about age 26, Ken was hired by government of India (then under control of the British.) He assumed a position of high authority in South India which he held for ten years. His job was to oversee elephant logging camps, introduce machine power into the camps, and help establish sawmills. At times he also functioned as a district magistrate.
In India, Ken he was called Sahib and Master Pearce, and Grandma Gladys was his Memsahib.
That felt awkward to them at times. There was great pressure for them to hire many servants. Yet both of my grandparents were highly industrious, hard-working people. They often simply wanted to do the work themselves.
Grandpa worked from sunup to sundown, often shoulder-to-shoulder with his Indian laborers (most who were ex-convicts.) Grandma sewed clothes for herself and Ken. As a physical education teacher, she was hired to evaluate physical education programs in schools in Madras and other cities.
As for the Maharaja of Jaipur–I believe this particular invitation was for just Ken, before Grandma Gladys sailed to marry him in 1926. Then Ken and Gladys lived in Tamil Nadu region until 1929, primarily in Madras (Chennai) and Ooty. (1930-1933 they lived in the Andaman Islands.)
Ken managed logging camps throughout South and Southwest India. The University of Washington archives hold artifacts related to the forestry work of J.K. Pearce in India. However, I hold all his personal mementos from that time and place, plus additional logging ephemera.
Grandma also met a maharaja: the Maharaja of Mysore, who had a summer palace in Ooty (the Fernhills Palace.)
Gladys wrote of a funny (or disconcerting?) event that took place on the palace lawn. Before moving to India, she had saved money from her job as a junior high physical education teacher. On the steamship ride over, during a stop in Asia, she bought her first set of pearls and treasured them.
At the palace, a young child (one of the princes) approached her bedecked with jewels. He pointed at her pearls and demanded to have them. As you can imagine, she clutched them, and gave him a firm “No.” She had worked too hard for those!
For her Heart of the Matter podcast, Cynthia L. Simmons and I discussed parent-child personality differences and homeschooling. We also looked back through history at one 1930s mom’s parenting style.
For the Oct 2, 2020 podcast, How to Delight in Your Child as You Homeschool, Cynthia asked me great questions related to the book Delight in Your Child’s Design. We talked about ways to inject more fun into parenting that allow children to learn more organically. In other words, when they’re having fun, they don’t always realize they’re also learning. We also talked about leaving a legacy of playful parenting, and about how in some ways parenting has changed little in a century. In this blog post I share a bit of what we discussed, plus a time capsule tip:
This digitally archived vintage 1915 yearbook included student nominations for Best Fusser, Class Suffragette, Class “Burns” and Class “Harriet Stowe”.
What great fun it is, reading my grandparents’ 1915 WaHi yearbook, from Walla Walla High in Washington State. It’s like peeking through a window into their teenage personalities!
I found the digital copy, via Google Search. Yearbooks back then were cleverly written (this one, by the Junior Class) with much detail about their classmates. That high school year, with fewer than 70 Seniors, there was room in the yearbook to playfully describe each graduating student in numerous entries.
Included was “An Ode to 1915”, a long poem with stanzas for each student. What a kick it was for me to find these, about the teen versions of my Grandma Gladys and Grandpa Ken:
My! But Gladys was gymnastic, can speak for election;
And that car they call a “Ford,” she drives it to perfection;
She went on an English picnic once and now her friends recall
That in trying to cross the river—she from a log did fall.
I can easily imagine athletic Gladys trying to cross a river on a log. As for her Ford, it was most likely a Model T. And she did love to talk!
I also found a stanza about Ken:
There is a boy in our class whom we are proud to claim;
He is very studious—Kenneth Pierce is his name.
He’s won fame in speaking and (perhaps you don’t know it),
But he is quite famous in the role of a poet.
Ken’s last name was misspelled Pierce (vs. Pearce) by his classmate. But it was Grandpa, for certain – the only Kenneth in his graduating class. Other places in the yearbook mention Ken’s love for poetry and further display his and Gladys’s personalities:
Each student was assigned a personal motto:
It was fun to see that Gladys’s was: “No wild enthusiast ever yet could resist”.
That certainly fits a girl who would later hop a steamship to India! I knew that Grandma played basketball, but it was revealing to see she was involved in drama, speaking, singing, speaking competitions, and organizing social events.
The motto assigned to Ken was: “Night after night, he sat and bleared his eyes with books.”
He definitely was a studious one, graduating that year from high school at only age 16. He played the violin, and in the school’s “House of Representatives” loved leadership and debate. (Later at the young age of 25, he’d be put in a role of leadership in India.)
But as you’ll see, he was also very playful.
Quick aside: I originally sought out this yearbook to see Ken’s high school graduation picture. That’s because Gladys, in a letter written ten years later, wrote that the boy she once knew had filled out as a man, and had “a very fine mustache”.
It’s easy to see his little-boy looks in his high school photo at age 16:
Here’s a different picture showing what he looked like nearly ten years later, when she fell in love with him. (I found this one among family photos.) I couldn’t figure out why they were “just friends” for so many years. He certainly did grow up after high school.
The Class Ballot offered clues about personalities, plus 1920s events:
It’s interesting that there were nominations for such things as Class Suffragette (women still did not have the right to vote) and Class “Harriet Stowe”. I assume the latter referred to Harriet Beecher Stowe, author of Uncle Tom’s Cabin and that this classmate a vocal abolitionist.
As for “Class Pigmy”, “Noisiest Girl”, or “Lightest-headed Girl” — those weren’t terrifically flattering. Other girls were probably OK with “Jolliest Girl” and “Class Zoologist”.
“Best Fusser” for Gladys mystifies me, only because I can’t figure out what the word meant back then, in this context. The common dictionary definition of a “fusser” is someone overly concerned with details. It does seem from other entrees in the yearbook that Gladys was a busy-bee. Perhaps she loved overseeing details in her role on the Student Entertainment Committee.
I see Grandpa Ken (last name spelled Pierce again) voted “Class ‘Burns'” as in the famed Scottish poet, Robert Burns. Sure enough, in some of Ken’s later love letters to Grandma, he quoting Burns’ love poetry!
The 1915 yearbook also included fictional stories and predictions
One fiction story in the book was ‘On the Little Pend o’Reille’” by Kenneth Pearce, in which Ken wrote about a dramatic cougar attack. (I’ll put it in another blog post later, as it’s quite exciting.)
Another student writer, Lois Porter, wrote predictions of the future for each student, based on their personalities. It was a bit like the “Most Likely To…” lists you see in modern yearbooks, but with a playful twist. She began it:
In the city of Walla Walla, by the city of Milton, by the city of Dixie, lived a people wise and courageous, brave and athletic, the tribe of the Seniors, the children of the Walla Wallans; and their abode was Walla Walla High School.
Lois Porter, 1915 WaHi Yearbook
About Gladys, she wrote: “Thou, O Gladys Gose, shalt mighty waters cross. In a strange language with strange people and in strange lands shalt thy voice rise in anthems of glad tidings.”
I suspect that teen Gladys must have talked of wanting to travel. It would be eight years before she actually crossed any “mighty waters to strange lands”.
Here was Ken’s:
“Thou, O Myrl Higgins, O Lucy Magallon, O Kenneth Pierce, O Winnie Griffith, and thou, too, O Harold Hayden, shall cast thy lot together and members of the Kalem Company shalt thou become. Exciting and romantic shall be thy future…”
The Kalem Company was an early American silent film studio founded in NY City in 1907.
Indeed, Grandpa enjoyed drama. In the Senior Play, Manoeuvers of Jane, he played Prebendery Bostock. (Gladys played Constantia Gage.) A decade later, Ken would write Gladys from his ship to India that he’d dressed up as a flapper for a masquerade party, to the horror of the missionaries onboard (and now to my amusement)!
After Gladys joined him, they would act in the play The Importance of Being Earnest to entertain a small group of British friends. (During the Raj era, acting in plays was a common way for expats to make their own entertainment). However, Ken’s future work would be as a logging engineer—a bit more sedate than work as a silent film actor.
Slang and Sports
Some slang in the yearbook was unique to that era:
“… we are not “digs”, for we manage to have a good time wherever we go. If we do not get it in the study hall with paper wads, we get it in the gymnasium at parties and dances.”
But any athletic teen today can relate to excitement over sporting events, including a basketball game (in which I proudly say Gladys played Center):
“A great deal of enthusiasm had been worked up and many guesses were made as to the winners of the girls’ and boys’ inter-class basketball series. The girls’ games were played first, starting Wednesday, December 2. On this date, the seats in the gymnasium were crowded to the limit and everywhere class spirit was shown by the yelling and shouting of the class rooters.”
There’s so much more I discovered in this yearbook. I’ll summarize by saying the yearbook naturally included courses of study (many though, I didn’t expect to see in a 1915 high school) and photos of athletes in 1915 sports attire and in various clubs. The yearbook also included ads from local businesses (1920s prices, of course) cartoons, and jokes. I spent hours poking through the yearbook — more entertaining for me that the average Netflix movie and certainly more fun that reading current pandemic news.
A good end note to this post is the Last Will and Testament of the Senior Class, where items were ‘willed to’ the Juniors. That included ”the new swinging locker doors with which to dent your skulls,” and “the nerve racking game of Town Ball,” another version of baseball.
As a writer my urge to correct that spelling of nerve-wracking is overwhelming, but I do resist editing words written by teens 105 years ago.
To read the 1915 yearbook in full, click here: WA-HI Yearbook — have fun looking at the ads, too: you could buy a new Ford for only $440.
Fellow writers or genealogy fans: you may have as much fun researching your own family members’ vintage yearbooks. Leave a comment with any questions or tell me what you discover!
In 1926, Gladys Pearce, fresh from America, was new to routines in British India. Although she admired the tailor, she let the cook know she was not as naive as he’d hoped.
In my previous post, A Reluctant Memsahib, I shared a little about Gladys being thrust into her new role. She was expected to have servants, as wife of Ken (American forester for the Indian government) even when she preferred to do things herself. Here are a few more fun notes from her diary, revealing what that was like for her.
1926, Gladys Pearce
Today a dhurzee (tailor) came to sew, bringing his hand-model Singer sewing machine. He spread a sheet on the floor of the veranda and sat cross-legged on it, his machine before him.
He made slip-covers for the naked sofa and chair. The machine hummed busily as he turned the wheel with his right hand while guiding the work with his left hand and toes. As for the rest of my help, including the cook: