Learning Gratefulness

My most important lessons in learning gratefulness were provided by my experiences visiting the home of my maternal grandparents, Dr. Leo and Mabel Couch who bought this home on Ellis Avenue in Maplewood, a St. Louis suburb around 1910. They had 12 children born between 1910 and 1930. My mom was their oldest girl and had 3 sisters and 8 brothers.

The city of Maplewood was incorporated in 1904. The Couch kids all attended Immaculate Conception grade school that had opened in 1906 and Immaculate Conception church built in 1925. The boys attended Christian Brothers College Military HS and some went to St. Louis University. The girls attended Nerinx Hall and Webster College.

The 2 oldest boys were killed in World War II before I was born. This loss was the first blow absorbed by the Couch family, but it wouldn’t be the last. Around 1920, Grandpa Couch was electrocuted turning on the new electric street lights.  He survived and recovered, but the children he fathered after that had a rare form of muscular atrophy. That left 3 of my uncles disabled and consigned to live at home, but they were at peace with their lot.

We gathered each Sunday at the Couch house for a roast beef dinner at 1pm. At 3pm we put up 3 card tables and the bridge games began. I would set up the big electric train to run drinks and snacks from the pantry, to the bridge tables, back down the hall through the kitchen and back to the pantry. I was the bartender. Jesuit Priests grandpa met on sick calls showed up for bridge. My grandpa, mom and several uncles joined the bridge games.  I would play monopoly with my 3 disabled uncles in the breakfast room. In the evening grandma Couch joined us to watch Ed Sullivan, Bishop Fulton Sheen and Liberace. The Couch house was an oasis for family and friends who attended these Sunday events.

To prepare for Christmas, I was my Aunt Ilene’s cookie-making helper. On Christmas Eve, we gathered at the Couch house to go to Midnight Mass and then came back for a 1am feast, followed by singing in harmony around the piano played by Uncle Billy until 4am when we left to go home and get some sleep. We returned on Christmas Day to continue the party.

My earliest memory of the Couch house was standing in front of the large console radio in May 1945 with a house full of cheering people as they announced Victory in Europe Day.

The Couch house was a 3 story, 5000 square foot house with a basement on a large rectangular lot. Grandpa Couch buried a bean can near the house and we would play golf on this one-hole course. 

The July 4^th fireworks were shot from the high school grounds and were visible from the back yard. We would walk a block to the White Castle and bring back dozens of hamburgers and set up lawn chairs to watch the fireworks.

We would make home-made root beer and ice cream.  

My experience with the Couch family began when I was born and continued throughout my childhood, teen years, college years and beyond. Even while my Mom, Dad, brother Bobby and I lived in other States, we made the annual pilgrimage back to St. Louis to the Couch house.

We moved back to St. Louis when I was 8 and lived in my Uncle Bob’s apartment. When I was 10, we bought a house across the street from the Couch house.

I learned finance from my family. The Couch family bought the 4 family apartment and the house next door to provide rental income for retirement.  When grandpa Couch died in 1962, my Aunt Ilene became the landlord.

The Couch house was also a home for Mom Couch’s sister Marion who moved there when her husband died. Aunt Ilene took care of Marion and my disabled uncles until they died in the 1970s.

The Couch family served as my role-model for what a family was. The family home was a fun, collegial refuge.

My reflections on my Couch house experiences always left me in awe of their resilience in pursuing their happy life despite losses and illness. Here was a family with great promise, whose hopes had been dashed.  But the music, love and joy this family had was a miracle.  I learned a great lesson from that. I learned to accept life as it comes.

My disabled uncles never married.  Aunt Ilene never married, but dedicated her life to caring for the family. They had every excuse to be depressed and bitter, but they chose to be grateful. Their example taught me the secret to attaining gratefulness.

Norb Leahy, Dunwoody GA Tea Party Leader