Reinhardt Family History

Memories of Eggs and Chickens

Stories from Neil Reinhardt

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Memories
of Eggs & Chickens

Squeaky

Squeaky is someone I think of often. He was one in a million. He first entered our lives when he was about five months old. Em had been talking to Sarah Whealon, the Fond du Lac County Children's Welfare worker. She told Em she may need a temporary home for a baby. Two days later Em received a call asking if they could bring a baby for a few days. Em, with her mothering instinct, said sure. Then they asked if they could bring him the next day.

A crib was quickly borrowed from Em's sister that evening. It just happened that she did not have a baby to use the crib at that time.

The next day a welfare worker, along with the baby and it's mother, arrived at our house. The baby clothes and blankets were in paper bags, the clothes a tattle-tale grey. Even the baby was a sickly grey color. The baby's formula was in a fruit jar. When Em was fixing a bottle she noticed pieces of dirt floating in the milk. At the time, I was peddling milk in the city, so from then on there was plenty of fresh clean milk.

There was not much sleep in our house that night. Warren, the baby, cried most of the night. He was taken to the doctor the next day, and after a good exam, the doctor said "There is nothing wrong with him that a little tender loving care and plenty to eat will not cure. He's just starving!"

We had been married three years, with no baby, and none expected. Now everything was changed. While the baby never cried after that first night, He did have a high pitched squeak or squeal, so I started calling him squeaky.

A few days stay soon became a year. Squeaky was soon running about the house, getting into the usual mischief that any yearling does. He even started to say words and would notice any sound. When he was first brought to us, we were told he could not be adopted until it was sure that he could hear and talk. His grandparents were both deaf mutes. I am sure he could hear and talk.

One day we had both good news and bad news. Squeaky was going to be adopted. He was going to have a permanent home along with a mother and father. The bad news was that he would be leaving us. But the good news was that Em and I were finally going to have a baby of our own. I did not know at the time that we would have five baby girls before we would have a baby boy around the house again.