Dorothy Maki Suomela
Era: World War II
Military Branch: Not Available
WW2: HIGH SCHOOL August 21, 2005
My Story to Veterans' Memorial Hall
By Dorothy Karen Maki Suomela
When the unbelievable news came over the radio that Japan had attacked Pearl Harbor, I was a mere 16, a junior in Chisholm High School. The next day in study hall, we sat transfixed listening to the radio message of our President FDR declaring war on the Empire of Japan, and the unforgettable oft repeated phrase, “A date that will live in infamy.” Then on December 11, Germany and Italy declared war on the United States. Thus, the European and Southeast Asian wars became a global conflict with the Axis powers of Japan, Germany and Italy, against America, Great Britain, France and USSR, the four main Allies.
When the school was over in 1942, I got a waitress job at Canelake’s Café in Hibbing getting the big pay of 25 cents an hour! I roomed at the home of a relative in Brooklyn Location. After graduation in 1943, I went to work in my Dad’s Body and Fender Shop, where I learned to machine and hand sand in preparation for Dad to spray-paint. He had offered me the job at $2.00 an hour plus room and board. I couldn’t pass that up because I needed clothes for the following school year at St. Cloud State Teachers College.
When my freshman year was over, I decided to find work in Minneapolis, where I lived with my mother’s cousin. The first job I saw in the newspaper ads was at Scott-Atwater, which had been converted from making outboard motors to making fighter plane engines. The personnel manager at the plant was George Richter, who had me fill out an application stating my skills. When he read that I had been a machine-sanding fender, he didn’t hesitate to hire me. I was assigned to the bushing department where I was put on the grinding machine. We had to wear heavy gloves in order to prevent burned fingers due to the speed of the wheel; however, the gloves soon wore through and sometimes the hot bushing burned fingers through the hole anyway. It was often we had to change to new gloves. The process required oil to drip on the bushings to ensure the grinding to a specified degree and size, so we wore canvas aprons, but my clothes became oil-soaked which I had to launder each day. We also had to wear caps that had attached snoods to keep our hair covered so there was no chance of loose hairs getting into our grinders, and later I was promoted to the buffing machine where bushings had to have a clean unblemished shine. The bushings came in crates with 24 compartments to contain the 2-inch bushings separately to avoid touching each other to keep from getting scratched or marred. When each crate was completed we had to punch a time card and record the serial number from the crate along with our employee number; that way if there were any bushings not up to specifications, it could be traced to the employee responsible. There was only one crate returned to me when I had overlooked one row of bushings; at least there was no penalty, only that I had to complete a row. Oh, I should mention the entry pay was 65 cents an hour, after 40 days it advanced to 70 cents and a mandate to join the Union with dues, which I can’t recall how much they were exactly, perhaps 25 cents a week. When then whistle sounded for lunch break and for the end of the 8-hour day, it sure was a relief and the seat on the streetcar was pure heaven to get off my sore feet from standing all day. I can still hear the streetcar wheels grinding on the rail and the clang-clang of the trolley bell. The first thing on getting home was a hot soak in the tub with Epsom salts.
When I wasn’t at work or in classes at school, I wrote letters to neighbor boys from back home who were in the various branches of the military services, and also to one special person from Duluth who was to become my husband when he returned safely after the war.
I still have the V-Mails we wrote at that time, and some unused ones I have left.
V-Mails were issued by the government which were standard 8½ x 11 letter size, went through the censors, stamped approved and sent to the photographic station where they were recorded on film. At the distribution centers (whatever) they were developed and printed out on 4 x 5 inch sheets which were inserted into little envelopes that had a hole through which the address was exposed; then sorted and delivered to the addresses. With the volumes of mail going between home front and battlefields being enormous, it saved a lot of space, and weight-wise with V-Mails, as well as being time-saving.
Aarre and I married on June 8, 1946, and we’re still together having had three children, three grandchildren and six great grandchildren. My husband tells of the one time when a Staff sergeant saw my picture in Aarre’s wallet and exclaimed, “I know that girl, she’s my neighbor!” Small world.
Respectfully submitted
Dorothy K. Suomela
(nee Maki, originally from Chisholm, Minnesota)
