Gayle Lenore Stanley

Gayle Lenore STANLEYAge: 7719352012

Name
Gayle Lenore STANLEY

Gayle L Fox

Name
Gayle L Fox

Gayle Lenore Fox

Name
Gayle Lenore Fox
Birth April 8, 1935 23 20
Freewater, Umitilla, Oregon

Birth about 1935 23 20

Death of a paternal grandfatherForest Lead STANLEY
March 29, 1944 (Age 8)
Tajunga, Los Angeles, California

Death of a paternal grandfatherForest Lead STANLEY
March 29, 1944 (Age 8)
Tujunga, Los Angeles, California, USA

Death of a paternal grandmotherIna Laura DAYTON
June 20, 1953 (Age 18)
Los Angeles, Los Angeles, California

Birth of a daughter
#1
Paula Lenore FOX
1960 (Age 24)
Compton, Los Angeles, California

Death of a daughterPaula Lenore FOX
1960 (Age 24)
Compton, Los Angeles, California

Death of a maternal grandmotherAnna Sophie Agusta NIELSEN
October 27, 1963 (Age 28)
Mill City, Linn, Oregon

Death of a husbandKeith Douglas FOX
July 24, 1989 (Age 54)
Eau Claire, Eau Claire, Wisconsin

Burial of a husbandKeith Douglas FOX
July 27, 1989 (Age 54)
Eua Claire, Eau Claire, Wisconsin

Death of a motherLenore Isabelle SWIFT
April 15, 1999 (Age 64)
Georgetown, El Dorado, California

Death of a motherLenore Isabelle SWIFT
April 15, 1999 (Age 64)
Georgetown, El Dorado, California, United States of America

Occupation
Insurance Claim Adjuster
Social Worker

Death of a fatherEarnest Aaron STANLEY
March 15, 2000 (Age 64)
Auburn, Placer, California

Death of a fatherEarnest Aaron STANLEY
March 15, 2000 (Age 64)
Auburn, Placer, California, United States of America

Record Change September 18, 2000 (Age 65)

Death October 19, 2012 (Age 77)
Roseville, Placer, California, USA

Family with parents - View family
father
Earnest Aaron Stanley Earnest Aaron STANLEY
Birth: December 20, 1911 34 32Crow Agency, Big Horn, Montana
Death: March 15, 2000Auburn, Placer, California
mother
LenoreIsabelleSwiftHS.jpg Lenore Isabelle SWIFT
Birth: April 14, 1914 26 29Jenner Lake, Alberta, Canada
Death: April 15, 1999Georgetown, El Dorado, California
Gayle Lenore Stanley Gayle Lenore STANLEY
Birth: April 8, 1935 23 20Freewater, Umitilla, Oregon
Death: October 19, 2012Roseville, Placer, California, USA
sister
sister
Mother’s family with Private - View family
step-father
mother
LenoreIsabelleSwiftHS.jpg Lenore Isabelle SWIFT
Birth: April 14, 1914 26 29Jenner Lake, Alberta, Canada
Death: April 15, 1999Georgetown, El Dorado, California
half-sister
Family with Keith Douglas FOX - View family
husband
Keith Douglas Fox Keith Douglas FOX
Birth: September 2, 1932 24 24Columbus, Franklin, Ohio
Death: July 24, 1989Eau Claire, Eau Claire, Wisconsin
Gayle Lenore Stanley Gayle Lenore STANLEY
Birth: April 8, 1935 23 20Freewater, Umitilla, Oregon
Death: October 19, 2012Roseville, Placer, California, USA
son
son
daughter
Paula Lenore FOX
Birth: 1960 27 24Compton, Los Angeles, California
Death: 1960Compton, Los Angeles, California
Family with Private - View family
husband
Gayle Lenore Stanley Gayle Lenore STANLEY
Birth: April 8, 1935 23 20Freewater, Umitilla, Oregon
Death: October 19, 2012Roseville, Placer, California, USA
son
son
Family with Private - View family
husband
Gayle Lenore Stanley Gayle Lenore STANLEY
Birth: April 8, 1935 23 20Freewater, Umitilla, Oregon
Death: October 19, 2012Roseville, Placer, California, USA
Keith Douglas FOX + Private - View family
husband
Keith Douglas Fox Keith Douglas FOX
Birth: September 2, 1932 24 24Columbus, Franklin, Ohio
Death: July 24, 1989Eau Claire, Eau Claire, Wisconsin
husband’s wife
step-daughter
step-son
step-son

 
Shared note
Glaphry E. Duff 1569 American River Trail Cool, CA 95614 WALDORF DRIVE THE WAR YEARS A MEMOIR My twin sister, Gayle, and I were six years old when the Japanese bombed Pearl Harbor, Hawaii. We lived in a typical, all-American neighborhood on Waldorf Drive, in Compton, California. The street was lined on both sides with Chinese Elm trees. I didn’t understand what was going on that day, but I can still visualize my dad, Ernest Stanley, standing in the middle of the street discussing the particulars of the event with Mr. Frankenfield. The kids on our block referred to the Frankenfield family as Frankenstien. Nobody liked the Frankenfields, especially the adults. I never knew why, but if the adults didn’t like them, it meant we kids couldn’t like them either. That is why, when I think about Pearl Harbor Day, I remember Dad and Mr. Frankenfield speaking to one another in the middle of Waldorf Drive. It was the only time I saw them in a friendly conversation. There was a great fear about where the Japanese might attack next. The American Pacific fleet was nearly destroyed at Pearl Harbor, so the West coast with its many ports was a likely target. The day of the bombing, our family gathered at my Aunt Helen’s home in Bell Gardens, listening intently to the news on her Philco radio. The newscaster gave as much information as he could about what had happened in Hawaii and what could happen next. The word, “war”, kept coming up. Gayle and I had no idea what war meant, so Mom tried explaining it to us on our level. “The Japs bombed our ships, so we will bomb their ships.” That was good enough for us. We now felt we had a grasp on the situation and knew all about war. An aura of excitement filled the air for a long time after we went to war. Mom went to work in a factory that made parts for jeeps, and Dad, who delivered milk for a living, took a second job in an aircraft factory. He had all the overtime he wanted because of the shortage of manpower due to the war. The extra income came in handy as the family was still recovering from the depression. Before the war, Dad’s good friend, Bill Bax, was in the Marine Corps Reserve. Bill was over 30 years old, but had such a good time at the weekend reserve meetings that he tried to talk Dad into joining. Dad thought about it, but he had four children and suffered with asthma, so he opted out. As soon as Pearl Harbor was bombed the Marine Corps Reserve was activated and off old Bill Bax went for the duration on the war. Dad laughed over the letters from him, telling the agony of an old man trying to keep up with the kids, most of them still teenagers. Dick Brown was the first young man on Waldorf Drive to go to war. He and his brother, Gene, lived next door. They were the big guys whom we kids looked up to. Before the war they had parties nearly every weekend. We would lie in our bed at night enjoying the music from their phonograph records and listen to the raucous laughter as they dance the jitterbug to the boogie-woogie music in their garage and on their driveway. One Halloween were impressed by the cornstalks decorating their yard. The Browns served sodas at their parties and Mr. and Mrs. Brown fixed hamburgers and hotdogs for everyone. Later the Browns moved into the house on the other side of us. They were still our next door neighbors, but now the parties were away from our bedroom, and we missed the noisy fun. However, Mom and Dad would laugh over the brown’s parties, so as we hung around we could catch up on the previous evenings antics. When Dick Brown went off to war, his younger brother, Gene, was still in high school. It galled him that he was too young to join up. Gene was so energetic and full of fun, that I was glad he was still around. The Lewis family lived on the corner of Waldorf Drive and Orlando. Cassie Lewis was our good friend Cassie’s brother, Lonnie, came home from college for a couple of weeks, then left for the Army. He was made a Lieutenant and the whole neighborhood was very proud that a genuine officer’s home address was Waldorf Drive. Patriotism ran high during the war years. Patriotic posters were everywhere. Uncle Sam was pictured pointing at you on one of them, and the caption read, “Uncle Sam wants you!” There were posters of Rosie the Riveter, encouraging women to join the work force because of the shortage of men, and posters of beautiful WACS and WAVES encouraging women to join the military. Magazines had full page ads of a sinking ship with the caption, “Loose Lips Sink Ships”. So if you knew your loved one was shipping out, you were to keep your mouth shut. There were posters similar to this in the shipyards and aircraft factories. The newspapers and newsreels went on and on about all we could do to help the war effort and movie stars encouraged us to buy war bonds that were on sale in the lobby of the theater. Our school sold defense stamps for ten cents. Each stamp was paced in our stamp books. When the book was full we could trade it in for a war bond. To encourage us to buy stamps and bonds, a bomb was placed in the hallway by the office. The signatures of each child who had enough stamps to trade for a bond were on the bomb. In my young eyes, the bomb was real, and I could add my name to it if I accumulated enough stamps to convert into a war bond. I often gazed at the bomb which I was sure was the very bomb that would win the war for America, the home of the free and the brave. I visualized a Tyrone Power type soldier loading this very bomb into his flying fortress and dropping it on Adolph Hitler. I hoped he wouldn’t come and get it before I had enough stamps to earn a place for my signature on that wonderful bomb. One of my favorite pastimes was to lie in the clover of our front yard and watch fighter planes practice dog fights. Maybe one of those pilots up there was the one who would one day come and get our school bomb. The planes would zoom about in the sky chasing and dodging each other for half an hour or so then fly off out of sight. The Waldorf drive kids talked a lot about those pilots and their planes. We could name all the different makes of military aircraft. Our favorite was the P-38 until the giant B-29 bomber was built, which then became the main topic of every conversation on Waldorf Drive. My cousin, Norman, came flying through the doorway one afternoon, shouting, “Hurry, a fighter plane just landed in the alfalfa field!” Off I ran behind Norman and his brother, Buddy, images of my Tyrone Power type pilot going through my mind. I passed them in my excitement, but backed off. Which alfalfa field? Following my cousins, I ran around the corner onto Alondro, crossed Elmdale Street, passed Aiken’s corner grocery store, and ran to the alfalfa field where Alondro came to a dead end. Sure enough, there was a Navy fighter plane in the field, and there was the pilot walking around with a very perplexed expression on his face as he examined his banged up plane. However, he looked so was ordinary, far from the Hollywood portrayal. Soon official looking cars and trucks came on the scene and roped off the area around the fighter plane. By this time all the Waldorf Drive kids were at the end of Olondro Street taking it in -- even my older sister, Ellen and her friend, Bobby Jean. My eyes were riveted on the Navy pilot, who just might get better looking if I kept my eyes on him. Could this be the hero who was going to remove the bomb from our school? From the looks of the mess before me, he would probably need another airplane, why couldn’t it be a flying fortress? Ellen and Bobbye Jean went home they weren’t interested in anything to do with the war, but the rest of us stayed all afternoon and into the evening. Floodlights were brought in and a large crane maneuvered around the wreckage, trying to lift the damaged plane onto a truck. Gayle and I stayed, watching until Dad came and dragged us home for it was past our bedtime. It took me a long time to forgive Dad for tearing me away from the greatest event of my childhood. As we left, I took one last look at my pilot. There he stood scratching his head with the same perplexed look on his face as when I first saw him. From that day, until the end of the war, whenever I would lie in the clover to watch dog fights, one of the pilots, to me, was the pilot I saw in the alfalfa field, and he still wore that perplexed expression. As the war dragged on, we were treated to movies about the war. In many of them a Japanese pilot radioed our hero in the American plane, “You are suplized I speak your ranguage. I went to your U.C err A.” With that remark our hero would go berserk and in feats of great bravery, shoot down the Japanese traitor. We cheered in delight as we watched the enemy plane go down in flames. Joe Lewis was the boxing champion of the world during the war. When he went into the U.S. Army, we Waldorf drive kids made up our versions of the enemy coming into contact with “The Brown Bomber”. You can bet ol’ Joe sent them all running for the hills. We Waldorf Drive kids knew all the patriotic songs. We knew every verse of ‘The Star Spangled Banner’, ‘My Country ‘Tis Of Thee’, ‘remember Pearl Harbor’, ‘The Marine Corps Hymn’, “Anchors Aweigh’, ‘The Caisson Song’, The Army Air Corps Song’, ‘Praise the Lord and Pass the Ammunition’, ‘The Andrew Sisters sang ‘The Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy of Company ‘B’, and best of all, the song made famous by Spike Jones and his City Slickers, ‘Ve Heil,(a raspberry), Right In The Furher’s Face’ which was the most often heard song on Waldorf drive. For pure sentiment, however, nothing could beat Kate Smith singing ‘The White Cliffs of Dover’, Bing Crosby’s ‘White Christmas’, or the girlfriends and wives left behind weeping over, “I’ll Be Home For Christmas’, The Andrew Sisters rendition of ‘apple Blossom Time’ and Don’t Sit Under The Apple Tree’. However the one that truly tugged at the heartstrings was the haunting refrain of ‘I’ll Be Seeing You’. These young women faithfully wrote to their loved ones. There was such a huge volume of mail going overseas that they used the V-mail. This was a lightweight envelope on which they wrote in very small handwriting. Many times the writing extended to the backs of the envelopes, and then it was folded and glued shut. During the war there were a lot of scrap metal drives. Mom did some soul searching about which of her pots and pans she could do without; these she gave up to be melted down and converted into tanks, ships, guns army trucks and other war materials. After removing the top and bottom of tin cans, we would flatten them and add them to our pile of scrap metal. There were also rubber drives. Rubber was hard to come by since most of the rubber Producing countries were in the hands of the Japanese. Rubber was needed for tires on military vehicles, so Uncle Sam asked Americans to help the war effort by giving up anything made of rubber. Once, the Tower Theater admitted anyone who brought something made of rubber, free of charge, to an afternoon of cartoons. I brought my rubber doll and was commended by the rubber drive people for giving up my beloved doll to help our boys win the war. I felt guilty accepting that praise because I never cared much for dolls. That old rubber doll meant nothing to me. However, I did imagine it going into the tires on that mighty flying fortress that would drop our treasured school bomb on Hitler. Every neighborhood had an air raid warden whose duty was to see that everyone did his part during the air raids. When night fell, it was the air raid warden’s job to walk up and down the street making sure everyone was using their blackout curtains properly and would let you know if any light was showing. We didn’t have blackout curtains, so Dad would put plywood over the window every evening. Another requirement was that all car headlights had to be painted blue. All this was to keep enemy aircraft from having any targets. To accustom everyone as to what we might expect should we be attacked, there were many air raids. Several times Mom and Dad had to walk home from work because the streetcar and bus they usually took home was not permitted to move. When we were actually attacked by the Japanese, our warden, a middle-aged woman, ran up and down Waldorf Drive shouting like a crazed psychopath, “The Japs are bombing the hell out of L. A.!” I remember waking up to find my parents sitting by the window, laughing at our useless air raid warden. A couple Japanese shells were lobbed on the oil fields along the shore of Goleta, California, several miles north of Santa Barbara and many more north of Los Angeles. The damage was minimal and no one was killed or even injured. Still it was fascinating to sit on the couch with all the lights off and watch the searchlights sweeping back and forth across the sky trying to spot enemy aircraft. Compton, at that time was rural. We were surrounded by dairies, alfalfa fields, and before the war, Japanese vegetable farms. Soon after Pearl Harbor was bombed, the United States citizens of Japanese descent were carted off to intern camps all because the U. S. government was afraid their might be spies among them. Dad drove us by an area where these Japanese were to be sent off to the various camps. I was amazed to see children included. I couldn’t imagine these kids being spies. However, the Waldorf Drive kids were convinced that we had a spy in our neighborhood. Mrs. Frankenfield was spotted in her front yard wearing a scarf picturing, to us, a rising sun of Japan. We tried to get our parents to report her to the authorities, but they only laughed at us. Nearly every family on Waldorf Drive had a victory garden. It was our patriotic duty to grow our own vegetables so farmers could sell their produce to the government to feed our fighting troops. It was fascinating to watch Dad shovel and hoe the backyard, preparing the soil for our plants. He built rows of soil in which to plant seeds, then made ditches around each row for irrigation. Southern California has very little rain, so this was essential. Gayle and I helped Mom poke seeds and potato eyes into the long hills, and Dad came along behind us and covered them with soil. That was fun for us. It was also wonderful to reap the harvest when the vegetables ripened. However, the in between part - weeding -- was dreadful. That job belonged to my sisters and me. Nearly every day we would get down or our knees, and get to work separating the weeds from the plants. I had to keep reminding myself the hard work was for the war effort. I dearly loved my Aunt Helen. She lived in Bell Gardens and sometimes Gayle and I had the pure delight of spending the night with her and Uncle Tom. One evening Gayle and I opened her clothes closet door and found a stash of canned goods. It took Mom and Dad a long time to convince us that Aunt Helen was not a contemptible hoarder, (someone who kept food stashed away from our troops for their own use.). They explained that Aunt Helen lived in a very small apartment and had to keep some of her, very legal, food in the closet. Another long explanation was required when we saw Mr. Brown, Dick and Gene’s father, unloading sacks of sugar. We were sure this man, who was the epitome of virtue, was either a hoarder or was selling sugar on the black market. We were skeptical for a long time after we were told it was not sugar, but bags of cement. Nearly everything was rationed. Each family was allotted ration stamps according to family size. Gasoline, tires and inner tubes, sugar, shoes, butter, cigarettes and meat were among the many things that were rationed. There was a lot of ration stamps traded on Waldorf Drive. Mom smoked, but Aunt Florence didn’t. Aunt Florence had a sweet tooth, but Mom didn’t, so Mom traded her sugar stamps for Aunt Florence’s cigarette stamps. Mom did pretty well with the shoe stamps because Gayle and I seldom wore shoes. We hated to wear them and envied the boys in our class who often went to school barefooted. We usually out grew our shoes, long before they wore out. Before the war, Lucky Strike cigarettes came in green packages with a red circle around the lettering. During the war the company advertised, “Lucky Strike Goes To War”, and changed the package colors to a patriotic red, white and blue. Mom bought a little contraption to roll her own cigarettes because ready-made ones were hard to come by. Our president, Franklyn D. Roosevelt asked that all Americans refrain from eating meat on Tuesdays so farmers could supply the troops with meat. This was never a problem for our family or for several others on Waldorf Drive because we raised chickens, ducks and rabbits. However we often had macaroni and cheese on meatless Tuesdays. The women on Waldorf Drive could not buy silk stockings. This material was needed for parachutes, so the ladies improvised. I can still picture the ladies gathered on our front porch smearing their legs with leg make-up the color of hosiery. Then, because it was the fashion, Lorraine Tenny would carefully draw a line down the center of the back of each leg to simulate the seam. I was impressed. The men took very good care of their tires and inner tubes because they were so difficult to obtain. There were many patched inner tubes and threadbare tires on Waldorf Drive. Dad’s sister, Aunt Bertha, and her husband, Dale, came to visit us before he went off with the Army to Alaska. He had Dad and Aunt Florence’s husband, Uncle Loyd, outside showing off the new inner tube he had somehow obtained. The men went back into the house and when they came back out and hour later, there was my cousin Norman having a great time pounding many nails into the inner tube. Uncle Dale was furious, especially when he saw Dad was stifling a laugh. The schools made sure we children knew what to do in case of an air raid. When the appropriate bell sounded we were to duck under our desks and cover our head with our arms. One day we were bussed to Lynwood High School and marched into the auditorium to be fingerprinted by real WACs. They looked so spiffy in their uniforms that I decided right then and there that someday I too, would be a WAC. Of course, I had also decided to be a Red Cross nurse. Life magazine came to our school to photograph the older children who were participating in a mock enemy attack. When the magazine came out, there was our sister, Ellen’s picture Our class gathered as many magazines as we could. We cut out all the cartoons and pasted them in hand made scrapbooks. These cartoon books were then sent to military hospitals to cheer up the wounded men. One day our class was outside playing dodge ball when the teacher heard an airplane approaching. She quickly formed us into a large X and showed us how to wave at the plane by weaving from side to side as the plane passed overhead. To our astonishment, and great delight, the pilot wagged the plane’s wing for us in acknowledgement. Our family made many trips to Los Angeles and to Long Beach. It was amazing to see so many uniformed men everywhere we went. It was great fun when Mom and Dad took us to the Pike, which was an amusement park in Long Beach. On one of these trips to the Pike, they brought along our baby sister, Nyla who was born in 1941. They noticed a sailor following us and started a conversation with the young man. The sailor explained that he had a daughter about Nyla’s age and was so very lonely for her that he would like to tag along with us. My folks agreed and the whole time he was with us, the sailor insisted on paying for all our amusement rides. We were all touched. The only relatives I had in the military were aunt Bertha’s husband, Dale Wilson, who was in Alaska with the Army building the Alcan Highway, and Dad’s youngest brother, Preston Stanley. Uncle Preston was in the Navy and was eager to be in the war, however, to his chagrin, he was put to work stateside training troops and was never involved in combat. As the war dragged on, Uncle Preston saw many of the battered and burned out ships returning for repairs; he saw the severely wounded carried off those ship. This really shook him up and he thought, maybe he should be thankful that he escaped the carnage of war Gayle and I looked for stars on the banners hanging in many windows. Each star represented a family member serving their country in the military. There were many banners with more than one star. A gold star meant a family member had made the ultimate sacrifice and had been killed in action. Sometimes we would see more than one gold star on a single banner and were saddened. The Compton newspaper, “The Herald Examiner”, honored those brave men by printing photos of any man killed in the war and with an article on the man, made it front page news Gene Brown finally graduated from high school and went into the army. His brother, Dick, served in Europe. He had been a passenger in a jeep when the driver, knowing some of the traps set by the Germans, spotted a wire stretched tight across the road to decapitate Americans. He swerved to avoid the wire causing the jeep to overturn. Dick and the driver immediately came under fire. They ran for their lives to escape. Dick felt a bullet hit near is chin, and felt something banging against his back as he ran. The two finally reached a safe haven. It was then that Dick found what had been hitting his back was his own mangled leg flapping up behind him as he ran. There was no way Dick could have run on that leg, but he did. Dick came home wounded. Sadly, a gold star was hung in the Lewis’s window, for Cassie’s brother, Lonnie, Waldorf Drive’s Lieutenant, was killed in action.
BirthGayle L Fox - California Marriage Index, 1960-1985Gayle L Fox - California Marriage Index, 1960-1985
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NameGayle L Fox - California Marriage Index, 1960-1985Gayle L Fox - California Marriage Index, 1960-1985
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Media objectGayle Lenore StanleyGayle Lenore Stanley
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Media objectGayle Lenore StanleyGayle Lenore Stanley
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Image dimensions: 1,224 × 1,276 pixels
File size: 251 KB
Type: Photo
Highlighted image: yes