Steelville, MO. A small town of no consequence, except for those lucky enough to have been brought up in it. Marion J. Snow-Essex was just one of those lucky people, at least in her own eyes. She felt her birth in a rustic, rural Missouri town gave her stronger roots than her big city compatriots and a deeper appreciation of the world in general. Especially since she was compelled to leave it much sooner than she would have, had she been making the choices in the matter.
Marion entered the world April 7, 1917 in a small shack on the outskirts of the small town, with the assistance of Maggie Snow, the local midwife. Her sheen of red hair just matched that of the midwife, who also happened to be aunt, but her eyes matched the shape of her mother Grace's. Grace was an interesting woman, a mix of typical small-town wife and forward-looking thinker. Marion was her 4th child, having had 3 sons in each of the 3 years previous to her daughter. She knew clearly what a woman's role was supposed to be but didn't much like it and hoped to raise her daughter to something more than the drudgery of small town or farm wife life. She didn't plan to have any more children and intended to drill them all in the importance of education as their way to rise above the seemingly impenetrable walls of Steelville & Crawford County, Missouri.
As Marion emerged squalling in the early morning hours, her father hadn't yet headed to work at the grain elevator on the edge of town. Cyrus Jesse Snow was quite angry that he'd had to make his own breakfast, "That baby was born by the time I was getting ready for work, my wife ain't some kinda' rich woman who gets to lie abed. Besides, what good is a daughter who can't work?" However, Maggie had elsewise to say about it and Grace remained in bed cuddling the daughter she'd always wanted.
Maggie busied herself and got a meager breakfast together for her nephews, ages 1, 2 & 3... like steps in the mansions downtown. Jesse, the oldest was first up.... followed closely by Wayne, the two year old and Jackie the youngest. They were all in their night shirts with hair askew, not sure of what was going on. The Aunt got them cleaned up and dressed in at least in a slapdash manner, but they were dressed and fed and she was able to check on her sister-in-law in the next room reasonably often. She also introduced the boys to their new sister before sending them out to play.
Grace looked tired, as any woman who'd just had a baby would, and no worse for the wear of having had 4 babies in as many years. Her blood loss was normal, leaving nothing for Maggie to worry about. Since this was her relation, she was going to stay the night unless called away to another birth. Maggie liked her position as midwife in Crawford County, it gave her access, information and freedom that few women in that time and place enjoyed. She also saw clearly the position of women at all levels of society, rarely did privilege make women more free, it just determined the restraints under which they lived. She had chosen not to marry and stay an active midwife and she liked it that way. For now, Maggie was going to do what little she could for Grace and her new niece Marion.
Cyrus returned home after a long day at work to find the boys happy as pigs in the dirt... and his sister trying to corral them back into the house to sit down to a supper of soup and bread. His wife was still abed, which spurred him to even greater anger, "Grace! What the hell are you still doing in bed? My sister is working her fingers to the bone, when you know she has others to attend to?"
At this, Maggie flew into an equal fury, "Brother, you stop talking that nonsense! You infernal fool! Your wife has just had YOUR 4th child! You act as though she had worked all day for a simple wage, rather than had her body turned outside for the 4th time in that many years. She stays where she is! And everyone in town knows where I am tonight if I am needed!"
Cyrus turned squarely to face his sister, raising his hand, "If you weren't my sister..." and his voice trailed away knowing that Maggie would fight back like a mad cat. His hand lowered slowly and his fury dwindled to a slow burn... but he didn't forget. He liked his women docile, not like his sister, who shared his fire.
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