Person:Vernon Joy (1)

BEGINNINGS

Vernon Lester Joy was born on September 3, 1930, in Sioux City, Iowa. His parents were thrilled with their new baby boy, and sent an excited telegram to Harry’s parents.

Picture of baby Vern with his parents, about Feb. 1931

The telegraph they sent to Lottie Joy

Announcement cards

Helen had worked hard to become a certified teacher at the Seventh Day Adventist school. The school was held in the basement of their church in Sioux City, and two of the pupils she taught were her nieces Phyllis and Jean Reynolds (daughters of her brother Harry Reynolds.) Because she was busy working to support her family, Helen’s younger sister Bea took care of Vern for most of the day during the first three years of his life. Harry was a mechanic who worked on cars and tractors, but it wasn’t easy to keep busy in those days.

The very first food that Vernon ate, when he was only a few days old, came from his father. His father was working on a road crew and came home one day with a handful of jelly beans. Baby Vernon must have been quite astonished to taste the strong licorice taste of the black jelly bean his father gave him!

Helen and her son Vern

In 1933, Helen quit her teaching job to stay home with Vernon full time. Two years later, the family decided to move to a 10 acre farm in Washington state. They probably thought they would be able to make a good living and have plenty to eat by working on the farm, but they were disappointed with the way things turned out in Washington. Vernon remembered that it rained every day they were there! At the orchard, the apples on the trees grew huge from all the rain. They looked delicious, but tasted mealy and mushy.

So the small family returned in 1938 to the suburb of Morningside, Woodbury, Iowa where Helen’s sister Stella had a home on Glass Street. Stella had a good-paying job as a linotype operator at the Sioux City Tribune. She worked long hours, often 8-10 hours a day with no air conditioning, while the temperatures in the building approached 110 degrees. Shortly after Hap, Helen and Vern moved in, Stella finally quit her job because of health problems. They sold the house on Glass Street and were able to buy an 80-acre farm outside Leeds (a northeast Sioux City suburb.) Hap found a job as a machinist/mechanic at the Modern Machine Shop in Sioux City, while Helen and Stella took care of the farm. The women raised cattle and hogs, alfalfa and corn. Their brother Ted Reynolds built them a huge barn and bought old horse-drawn equipment at auction to convert to tractor-drawn equipment. Ted also purchased for them a pair of beautiful matching black horses, Beauty and Babe, as well as a small rubber-tired Farmall F-12 tractor which had a top speed of 4 mph.

Eventually they saved enough to buy a larger farm—160 acres east of Laurel, Nebraska. It was very fertile ground, perhaps the finest in the county, and they paid the astronomical price of $110 per acre in March of 1940. The Laurel farm was a mile west of a country school house which taught grades 1 through 8 with a single teacher, who seemed to be replaced yearly. Vernon was 10 years old when he started at the one-room schoolhouse. In 1943 both he and his father signed up for the Civilian Air Patrol Service (CAPS.) ((((((PICTURE)))))) Hap had always wanted to be in the military but was unable due to health reasons, so this was the next best thing. Vernon graduated from 8th grade in 1944, and moved from a one-room schoolhouse to Laurel High School.

In June 1944 he was standing in their farm yard when about a dozen B-17's flew overhead. As he watched, he saw metallic chaff float down. One plane had clipped another, but he did not see that. He thought the chaff was radar jamming equipment-- although that didn't make much sense. The planes separated and one flew several hundred feet over their farm. It flew about a half mile distant and exploded in midair scattering debris all over the landscape. Suddenly a parachute opened and a single survivor floated to the earth. Hap, who had been working in the fields, was first on the scene and drove the pilot to Laurel first aid. In the meantime a second plane flew overhead and suddenly nosed straight down and exploded about a mile distant from the first plane. Altogether there was a single survivor from the eighteen crew members of the two ships. There was some excitement in the old town. Everybody was collecting souvenirs of the crash. Vernon collected about an eighteen inch clip of fifty caliber machine gun shells. Hap didn't say much about it, but a month or two later returned the shells to the Sioux City Air Force Base, commenting that they were too dangerous to have around.

In late November 1944 Hap and Vernon went into town on Saturday night. Vernon went to a movie and then looked for his father to go home. Suddenly someone who knew him asked, "How was the fire?" "What fire?" Their 10 room farmhouse was burning and half of Laurel was helping to put out the fire. Somebody drove Vernon home and he watched their house go up in flames. They lost every thing: clothes, souvenirs, everything! It was war time and things were rationed and there was no lumber available, so they made do. For several years Stella and Helen lived in a plastered one room "milkhouse", while his father and Vernon slept in a chicken coop. Everything was fine until one night Hap and Vern awoke itching furiously. A flashlight showed that their bed had shifted against the chicken house wall. The men were covered in millions of red chicken mites. Actually they were not red until after they bit and sucked blood. No more sleeping that night.

Vernon thought, in retrospect, the night of the fire was exciting, particularly when several boxes of 22 caliber shell went exploding like Chinese firecrackers. Fortunately no one was hurt. Fifty Caliber machine gun bullets would have been a totally different matter. Thank God for his father's wisdom and foresight.

Finally in 1946 the war was over and they bought a new, three quarter ton, white pickup, a new refrigerator and a six room pre-cut ranch house. Hap and Vernon hammered it together. Still, money was scarce so the family started a Dairy. Stella and Helen milked cows and Hap sold the fresh milk, house to house in Laurel. ((((Dairy PIC) A year later, Vernon took on an apprenticeship at the Laurel Printshop and learned to hand set type and later to run the linotype. ((((Snafu)

In 1947, Hap bought a new Farmall "H" tractor with lights and dual rubber rear wheels. Thereafter Vernon often worked the fields in summer from sun-up until 10 o'clock at night, as needed.

Vernon also kept busy at Laurel High School. As a senior he went out for football, basketball, track, boxing, and baseball. He played the male lead in the senior play (Jane Eyre), and was vice president of his class. In 1948 he graduated second in a class of 23 and won a competitive Regent’s scholarship for a year to the University of Nebraska. (((((PPPIICCCCCS)))))))))

Internship at Southwestern Medical School at Dallas, Tex, as a clinical psychologist.

Autobiography of Vernon Joy, 2002

My grandfather, William Reynolds (1839-1927) was born in Gallipolis, Ohio, joined the Union Army at Columbus Ohio in 1862, served through two major battles, and was released several years later in 1864. He headed west as an enterprising, renter- framer who moved from place to place yearly including Minnesota, North Dakota, South Dakota, Iowa, Nebraska, and Missouri. He married Elizabeth Beaumont (1865-1922) probably around 1890 and begot Harry (1891-1970), Ted (1892-1950), Stella (1894-1984), Helen (1899-1957), and Bernice "Bea" (1908-1998, as well as short-lived Clarence (1896) and Ada (1898). Note, when Bea was born, her father was 69 and her mother 43. Incidentally, William loved to attend State Fairs and would win prizes for garden produce, etc. He also attended sporting events and even participated vigorously. Mom noted that even in his eighties no one was ever able to wrestle him off his feet or take him down for a pin fall.

Ted died from a flood in Washington State else he would have lived longer. Stella left the farm to learn book keeping and accounting. She worked for several companies including the National Biscuit Company but then became a linotype operator for the Sioux City Tribune. It was a good paying job, especially for a woman, but without air conditioning she often put in 8 to 10 hours days in 110 degree temperatures. Still it paid the bills and when her parents retired she bought them a house in Morningside (southeast Sioux City suburb) on south Glass Street. After her father died she moved into the house and invited Helen and my father to share expenses and join her.

Of the three Reynolds girls, (Stella, Helen, and Bea) Stella and Bea working in the house, cooked and provided nursing care for their often sick mother. Helen tended to work outside taking care of animals and romanticizing nature, especially sun rises and sun sets. She joined the Seventh Day Adventist Church and through hard work became a certified teacher- educator working for the Church up until 1933 when she quit her job to become a full- time housewife. Bea evidently served as my nanny until Helen became a housekeeper and Bea became superfluous. I suspect Bea then moved to Bremerton Washington where she sold tickets to a ferry line up until she retired at age 65 and married several years later. Over the years Helen was a short order cook who specialized in meat and potatoes but inevitably Stella was the one who prepared pies, cakes, and cookies.

We lived in Morningside until 1935 when we moved to a ten acre farm in Washington State, outside Cedro Woolie. After three years of daily rains, we returned to Morningside briefly but then Stella retired from the Tribune and joined us in moving to a 80 acre farm outside Leeds (northeast Sioux City suburb). Father worked as a mechanic -machinist at the Modern Machine Shop in downtown Sioux City, Harry worked as a machinist for Crescent Tools in north Sioux City, whereas Stella and Helen raised cattle and hogs, alfalfa and corn, and persuaded Ted to build a huge barn as well as obtain and convert horse drawn farm equipment from auctions into tractor drawn mechanisms. Ted also bought us a beautiful matched pair of black work horses, Beauty and Babe; and a small rubber tired Farmall, F-12 tractor which had a top speed of about 4 miles per hour.

Finally the economics of a small farm lead the family to buy a 160 acre farm east of Laurel, Nebraska (40 miles west of Sioux City) and moved there in March 1940. The Laurel farm was probably the finest place in the county and we bought it for $110 per acre and later sold it in 1960 for $220 per acre. At the time those prices were tops for Laurel property. As outsiders we were suspected and respected and looked up to byt we were always somehow alien outsiders, possibly due to the Reynolds tendency to move, settle, move, setlle, and move again.

The Laurel farm was a mile west of a country school house which taught grades 1 through 8 with a single teacher, who tended to be replaced yearly. After I graduated from the eighth grade in 1944, I went to Laurel High School (two miles west of the farm) where I graduated second in my class of 23 and won a competitive Regent scholarship for a year to the University of Nebraska. High School was a busy beehive. As a senior I went out for football, basketball, track, boxing, and baseball as well as played the male lead in the senior play (Jane Eyre), and was vice president of my class.

The Laurel years witnessed several exciting events. In June 1944 I was standing in our farm yard when about a dozen B-17's flew overhead. As I watched I saw metallic chaff float down (one plane had clipped another but I did not see that) and I supposed the chaff was radar jamming equipment although that didn't make much sense. The planes tended to separate and one flew several hundred feet over our farm. It flew about a half mile distant and exploded in midair scattering debris all over the landscape. Suggenly a parachute opened and a single survivor floated to the earth. My father who had been working in our fields was the first on the scene and drove the pilot in to Laurel first aid. In the meantime a second plane flew overhead and suddenly nosed straight down and exploded about a mile distant from the first plane. Altogether there was a single survivor from the eighteen crewmembers of the two ships. Believe me there was some excitement in the old town. Every body was collecting souvenirs of the crash and I collected about an eitghteen inch clip of fifty caliber machine gun shells. My father didn't say much but a month or two later returned the shells to the Sioux City Air Force Base, commenting that they were too dangerous to have around.

In late November 1944 my father and I went in to town on Saturrday night. I went to a movie and then looked for father to go home. He wasn't to be found but that was no problem because he was bound to show up. Suddenly some one who knew me asked, "Who was the fire?" "What fire?" It seemed that our 10 room farmhouse was burning and half of Laurel was helping to put out the fire. Somebody drove me home and I watched our house go up in flames. We lost every thing: clothes, souvenirs, everything! It was war time and things were rationed and there was no lumber available. We made do. For several years Stella and Helen lived in a plastered one room "milkhouse", while father and I slept in a chicken coop. Every thing was fine until one night my father and I awoke itching furiously. A flashlight showed that our bed had shifted against the chicken house wall and we were covered in millions of red chicken mites. Actually they were not red until after they bit you and sucked your blood. No more sleeping that night.

In retrospect the night of the fire was exciting, particularly when several boxes of 22 caliber shell went exploding like Chinese firecrackers but fortunately no one was hurt. Fifty Caliber machine gun bullets would have been a totally different matter. Thank God for my father's wisdom and foresight.

Finally in 1946 the war was over and we bought a new, three quarter ton, white pickup, a new refrigerator and a six room pre-cut ranch house, which father and I hammered together. Still, money was scarce so my family started a Dairy where Stella and Helen milked cows and father sold the fresh milk, house to house in Laurel. A year later I took on an apprenticeship at the Laurel Printshop and learned to hand set type and later to run the linotype. In 1947 we finally bought a new Farmall "H" tractor with lights and dual rubber rear wheels. There after I often worked the fields in summer from sun-up until 10 o'clock at night, as needed.

In 1948 I graduated from high school and entered the University of Nebraska. I was interested in studying electricity but the University taught wiring and the physics of electricity and nothing I was really interested in such as electronics. Still just staying alive was a challenge. Something like 90 % of the freshmen Engineering class flunked out the first year. In the second year I had some electives and took Introductory Psychology. It was complex and I was third in my class of 200. Interesting! Finally as a junior I was able to take a course in Direct Current Electricity. Enough was enough, I switched in to Arts and Science college and majored in psychology and minored in math. It took me five years to graduate because many of my engineering courses did not count in Arts and Sciences. Still I made the Deans list my last three semesters and began to feel like a proper student. Only recently did I learn that only two Universities in the United States, Nebraska & New Hampshire specialized in Direct Current Electricity following the lead of Edison while all the others specialized in Alternating Current and Electronics in the tradition of Tesla. Oh yes, by the time I graduated I had also earned a private pilot's license and was the secretary-treasurer of the Lincoln Flying Club.

(This newspaper article probably came from the Laurel Advocate, circa 1951 or 1952.) Lands Here on Solo
Vernon Joy, son of Mr. and Mrs. Harry Joy, landed at the abandoned Laurel airport Saturday on a solo flight from a Lincoln airport. Vernon was on a cross country flight that was necessary before he could take his flight examination for his private pilots license. He did not know however, that the airport here had been closed for almost three weeks. Luckily the gas pump was still intact and by contacting the gas man here he was able to get enough fuel to him to the Wayne airport where he could fill up and return to Lincoln.

Generally my parents paid my expenses but as a junior I took a job as an assistant at the Agriculture Library. For my senior years I worked in an ice cream factory and later became a special delivery man for Roberts Dairy. The jobs paid some bills, kept me out of mischief, but in no way covered my expenses. Being "poor" I saved my money by not attending athletic events. The single exception was a football game I attended probably in 1951. Nebraska was a football power house and their star player, was "Mr. Touchdown, USA" Bobby Reynolds (no relative). He played in the fame I saw and popped everyone's eyes open. About the third quarter with the score tied 21-21, quarterback Reynolds took a handoff but met fierce opposition so he dodged and retreated, dodged and retreated, dodged and retreated and the stadium was going ballistic. Better to accept a small loss than to keep retreating. Starting on the Nebraska 20 yard line he retreated back to the opposition's 20 yard line and then turned around and started advancing, he ran and he ran and they finally caught him on the Nebraska 10 yard line. Thus he made 10 yards and a new first down but oh the chances he had taken. Nebraska won the game but it seemed more chance than science. Boy was it exciting.

Bobby Reynolds showed up one more time in my history. He attended the same ROTC summer camp that I attended in Wichita Falls, Texas in 1953. We were up and five in the morning and kept busy until bed-check at 10:30 p.m. Bobby slipped out of camp and went into town where he played baseball for a town team until midnight and finally slipped back into camp around 3 in the morning. And then he was up and leading everybody in calisthenics at 5 a.m.

At the end of camp every body rated every body else for officer potential. The results were highly consistent for everyone except Bobby. Half the cadets rated Bobby as exceptional in officer potential and half of the cadets rated him as totally lacking in officer potential.

My major concerns from those years involved the military. All University males took two years of Military Science as ROTC or Reserve Officer Training Corp. As a junior a friend of mine joined the Marines Air Corp Reserve which trained one weekend a month and two weeks in summer. It paid a small amount so I joined up. When I went back to school in the fall of 1950 I was told I could not be in ROTC and the Marines at the same time. My buddy got called to active duty with the Marines but I was allowed to return to school and take advanced ROTC which was not Air Force ROTC. The only catch was that I would have to attend an ROTC summer camp, and serve three years in the Air Force as an officer once I graduated. Since I wanted to fly anyway, I jumped at the chance. Still, being blind as a bat, I didn't get to fly but they made me a general (non-flying) officer.

I was finally called to the Air Force for active duty in November of 1955. I wound up at Lackland Air Force Base out of San Antonio as Officer in Charge of an IBM Human Resources Unit that worked three shifts covering 24 hours a day, with 50 personnel which were half military and half civilian. Our mission was to compile thecomplete record of all Air Force Officers, past and present. We did studies such as how many officers came from each state as a function of each state's population, and why some states had proportionally more officers than others, etc. The major study analyzed what made outstanding pilots. We found outstanding pilots tended to have higher IQ's, but not too high. The ideal range was between 120 and 145. An IQ of 150 was as likely to make you as non-acceptable for pilot training as an IQ of 115.

Moving to Texas from the midwest lead me to wonder how I would withstand the heat. Starting in November I watched the heat rise until on the 29 of January it was 98 degrees with 98% humidity. Lordy, lordy, lordy! But not to worry. I discovered over time that they had eleven months of summer heat and that December was sort of hall-winter-spring wrapped together. Why they even had a skiff of snow one December so they closed all the schools to celebrate.

Military service had some fine perks interfaced with some occasional downers. For example, the lieutenant who arrived on base after me was told in no uncertain terms he was a base salvage officer. That meant that when a plane crashed or rockets were fired it was his duty to examine th debris, sort the remains and sell the "junk" to the highest bidding junk dealer. Had he arrived on base a few days sooner he would have probably gotten the job I had and I would have gotten his.

As it was, I served about eighteen months at a superb job when I was informed that I was being transferred to a joint service recruiting station in downtown Amarillo, Texas. From the superb to the ridiculous. My sole purpose was to swear-in new recruits and draftees about once a week in a half-hour ceremony. The rest of the time it was suggested that I appear "busy." I solved the problem by joining something like firve different library sponsored Great Book Discussion Clubs and spent my spare time reading and my evenings discussing.

One of the perks occurred accidentally. Back in 1953 when I graduated from college I used to stop by the local Lincoln bus-station and news stand. Right next door was a Lincoln Mercury dealer who featured a beautiful new black Mercure converitble with red interior. It was a show stopper but totally beyond my means. In 1956 my staff sargeant, office manager needed some cash so he sold me his like new black Mercury convertible very reasonably. Cool. Several weeks later San Antonio had an annual parade and needed volunteer convertibles to strut their stuff. Beaing patriotic, I volunteered my services. My car did have a minor flaw, its gas gauge was broken. I filled up before the parade started and then spent probably two or three hours slowly driving the parade route. I was sweating bullets hoping I would not run out of gas in the middle of the parade. At the end of the parade the motor was still running and I headed for the nearest gas station for a "fill-up". Gasoline was only about $ .50 a gallon in those days but I was completely taken by surprise when my fill-up cost me a whopping thirteen cents.

~ Vernon L. Joy

Recollections from his daughter

According to his daughter, Jessica Joy Frost: Dad was an intellectual who loved books. He got a PhD in psychology and taught for about 30 years at Western Illinois University in Macomb, Illinois. He had so many stuffed into his office, they were afraid a book would fall on a student, so they gave him a second office just to hold all his books.

He joked that he was an "Abnormal Psychologist" because that was what he loved. He eagerly read every issue of the National Enquirer, and used their articles about TV stars to teach his psychology students about abnormal psych.

1. ↑ ^{1.0 1.1 1.2} Death certificate
   Registration District 550, number 25.

   Informant: Jessica Frost, daughter.

2. ↑ ^{2.0 2.1 2.2} Jessica Frost. Personal knowledge. (Lake in the Hills, Illinois 18 Nov. 2005).
3. ↑ ^{3.0 3.1 3.2 3.3} Vernon L. Joy. Autobiography of Vernon L. Joy. (Macomb, Illinois, August 2000.).

   In late November 1944 my father and I went in to town on Saturday night. I went to a movie and then looked for father to go home. He wasn't to be found but that was no problem because he was bound to show up. Suddenly someone who knew me asked, "How was the fire?" "What fire?" It seemed that our ten room farmhouse was burning and half of Laurel was helping to put out the fire. Somebody drove me home and I watched our house go up in flames. We lost everything: clothes, souvenirs, everything! It was war time and things were rationed and there was no lumber available. We made do. For several years Stella and Helen lived in a plastered one room "milkhouse," while father and I slept in a chicken coop. Everything was fine until one night my father and I awoke itching furiously. A flashlight showed that our bed had shifted against the chicken house wall and we were covered in millions of red chicken mites. Actually they were not red until after they bit you and sucked your blood. No more sleeping that night.
   
   Finally in 1946 the war was over and we bought a new, three quarter ton, white pickup, a new refrigerator and a six room pre-cut ranch house, which father and I hammered together.

4. ↑ ^{4.0 4.1 4.2} Adjutant General of the state of Ohio. Military Record. (23 April 1908)
   Certificate, 19 Nov 2005.
5. ↑ ^5.0 5.1 McDonough County, Illinois: Land Records, in Land records
   1966 and 1976.

   Vernon and (Living Wife #1) purchased the property on Kurlene Drive on May 31, 1966. (Living wife) sold her share of the property on 14 July, 1970 to Vernon. Vernon and (Living Wife #2) sold the property on May 4, 1976, and bought a farm at 2048 W. Adams Rd. on May 19, 1976.