Tuesday, March 7, 2023
My Mom was born in 1930, given the name Bernardette Marie Burger, in Boulder Colorado at the height of the great depression. In her first few years she moved from place to place with her parents Bernard and Helen Burger, also known to us kids as Racker and Nana. In those early depression years, Racker moved from place to place, job to job looking for steady employment. They went as far as Calgary Alberta Canada, where he had landed a job as a ground’s keeper at a local Catholic Church, then to Albuquerque New Mexico looking for better employment. It was in Albuquerque that Mom, while crossing the street in her mothers’ arms, was hit by a car. Mom fell to the ground relatively unhurt, but the car had drug Nana about a half a block. Nana was left in a coma for several months. After her mom’s recovery, Nana and Racker moved back to Boulder CO where Racker again worked for his father Otto’s family business, Boulder Transfer and Storage.
As a child in Boulder, she spent a lot of time staying at her two grandparents’ homes, Grandma Burger, and Grandma Reed. She also loved staying at her uncle Mike Stengel’s farm outside of Boulder. His Farm was located just outside Boulder city limits, along Boulder creek.
“Uncle Mike had two of every animal possible on his farm.” she used to say when she began to tell the stories of the farm. And she always closed the story with describing how uncle Mikes boots were always left outside, on the back porch steps at night on. “Aunt Mary would not let them in the clean house!” I can still see the sparkle in Moms eyes when she talked of the farm.
Her Sister Pat was born in 1935, and not long after that Racker purchased a then condemned house on Xavier ST in North Denver. In 1940, after a few months of renovation they moved to their new home. When WWII hit in 1942, Racker bought a plot of mountain land in Wondervu Colorado. He bought the land to build a cabin he could take his family to in case the war came to the homeland. The Denver area was considered to be a high value target with Federal Ammunitions plant now known as the Denver Federal Center, and the Rocky Mountain Arsenal nearby. It was building this cabin where Mom fell in love with the mountains. Mom talked about her adventures at the cabin right up to the end. The cabin remains in the family and is used and maintained to this day.
Her sister Lillian (Bunny) was born shortly after the war.
In 1948 Mom graduated from Holy Family High School. She attended some college, at Loretto Heights College of Colorado. At one point she was offered an intern job, in Washington DC for one of the US Congressmen from Colorado. She was very disappointed when her dad forbade her from going to Washington DC. He felt like it was too dangerous for a young single woman. She took a job instead at Red Dot Oil in Denver, working beside her dad, as a bookkeeper and part time switchboard operator.
She married my dad Robert Manes in August 1952. Dad had been discharged from the Air Force early due to his father’s death. Without Dads knowledge, his brother Don and his Uncle Howard who were well connected in the military, had arranged an early discharge. They wanted him home to take care of his mother Stella Manes. We grew up calling her Mimi. Mom and Dad lived at Mimi’s house, for the first couple of years they were married. Both Barb and I were born and lived at Mimi’s while Mom and Dad were having a house built in the newly organized town of Westminister Colorado. We moved to the new home in late 1955. Ken, Ray, Virginia, Rosanne and Joe were all born while we lived at the Westminister home. Dad was working at the Lowell garage and eventually at the central office for Mountain States Telephone Company while we lived in Westminister. Mom now had 7 kids living in a 3 bedroom 1200 sq ft home. In her “spare time”, she was constantly sewing, or matching outfits or knitting Sweaters or stocking caps for us kids, The girls would get skirts, the boys shirts, all cut out of the same bolt of cloth. One of my earliest recollections of this was in the late 50’s the new City of Westminister was having a “100 year” community celebration commemorating the discovery of gold in 1858. This discovery brought settlers to the area. The event theme was “Turn of the Century”. Mom sewed all us boys red vests and the girls had matching dresses. I bet we were a sight to behold. Every fall, Mom’s sewing prowess was challenged when she had to develop a new and original Halloween costume to add to the collection for the newest born child. We spent summers at the community pool where we all learned to swim. I never knew until later in life, that Mom was afraid of the water and never learned to swim herself. Dad had built us the grandest of sandboxes in our backyard. Soon our backyard had become the community playground. Every neighborhood kid would come to our house to play, and Mom would host all the mothers for coffee and gossip.
Just before Donald was born, Dad got a promotion and was transferred to work as Telephone Central Office engineer in downtown Denver. With this bonus came a bigger salary, and a longer commute to work. It was time to move. We moved into a new home in North Denver. It provided more bedrooms, but still had only 1 bathroom in the family living space. It did come with a fully finished basement with 3 bedrooms and a bath, that was already rented out to Regis College Students. This helped Mom and Dad by providing extra income. It did however put more work on Mom. She now had to clean and change bedding for up to an additional five people. Mom took it in stride and never complained. In fact she often invited the students to join us for Sunday dinner. The college rentals continued until the older boys became old enough for their own bedrooms in the basement.
Mom took everything in stride. She loved us kids and she loved being a Mom. You might say she perfected the art. Everywhere she went she had 8 kids in tow. I remember once we were going down the street and got stuck at a red light. All eight of us were in the station wagon when a man pulled up next to us. He rolled down his window and asked mom “Are those all your kids?” She looked over to him and cleverly and calmly said, “No, the older ones are home with the babies”. Her entire life was consumed by raising her family.
As a young teen I learned many unspoken lessons from Mom. I could see her dedication to her family, her community and to her God.
I moved away from home in 1974. I was grown up and had struck out on my own. Most of my story today is about Moms early life. It is just chapter 1 of a book on Mom’s life. Today I have relayed memories of stories told by her, told to me by her parents, and what I experienced for myself. Being the second oldest I didn’t get to see firsthand my younger, and wilder siblings coming of age. I have heard their stories of Mom. I have heard Moms stories of them. From these tales I can affirm she never lost her passion for us. The last few years I was blessed to once again be closely involved with her. Because of her we have a family interwoven between each other, much like one of stocking caps that Mom had knit, each hat was unique, made with many colors, different stitching, all bound cohesively together, forever holding out the cold and surrounding us with strength and warmth.
I will close this brief story with my final thoughts to my family. All through her life Mom was a pillar of strength. She gave birth to and held us all as babies. She fed us. She cleaned us. She cheered us when we won, comforted us when we lost. She scolded us when we wronged, praised us when we succeeded. During her final days I noticed how thin and weak her body had become, but still her love and spirit was strong. She had given everything away until there was nothing left. That is when I feel Jesus stretched his hand out to her and beckoned, “Bernardette you have accomplished everything I asked you to do. Time to come home.”
In loving memory of you Mom,
Glenn
