Table of Contents
The Rangity Tango Kids
By Lorraine Rominger
Copyright 2016 by Lorraine Rominger
Cover Copyright 2016 by Untreed Reads Publishing
Cover Design by Ginny Glass and Jim Shubin
All photos Rominger Family, except as noted
Cover photo courtesy of Richard Rominger
The author is hereby established as the sole holder of the copyright. Either the publisher (Untreed Reads) or author may enforce copyrights to the fullest extent.
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THE RANGITY TANGO KIDS
A Memoir
Lorraine Rominger
The Rangity Tango Kids with Grandpa and Grandma Rominger, on their 50th wedding anniversary, 1974
For Mom & Dad
My parents, Shirley and Don Rominger, Christmas, 1973
Chapter 1
Moms wedding day was the happiest day of her life, and as I look through the old photo album I can see why.
Mom and Dad were married on August 13, 1950. They were only 20 years old, and very much in love. Mom looked like a fairy princess in her wedding gown. She and her mother went shopping in San Francisco and bought the gown at The Emporium for $100. The off-white dress, made of organza and chiffon with net and lace overlay, had a ruffled-scoop neck with a fitted bodice and waistline, long see-through net sleeves with tiny buttons from the elbow to the wrist, and buttons all the way up the back. The skirt was covered with layers of organza ruffles from the hipline to the floor, one ruffle tier over the next, cascading into a long train behind the dress that fell under the 20-foot, cathedral-length veil she wore attached to a crown made of pearls. Dad had bought her dainty pearl-drop earrings, and her parents had given her a short, silver necklace strewn with pearls that flattered her long, thin neck. Her dark, softly curled hair framed her face.
Dad wore a black tuxedo with a white shirt and white bow tie, and with his dark, thick straight hair, they made the perfect coupleDon and Shirley Rominger. Beaming ear to ear in the photo album they look like two kids holding on to each other for dear life.
Five bridesmaids and five ushers surrounded them on the altar with the priest and two altar boys. They were all flanked by several six-foot candelabras and white baskets full of white lilies and gladiolas. Moms sister was her maid of honor and Dads brother was his best man. Each pew end was covered with a huge white bow and tied with ribbon so guests couldnt enter the pews except through the side aisles.
Dad was Catholic and Mom wasnt. Because of church rules in those days, marrying Mom in the Catholic Church was forbidden unless they attended religious classes for months prior to getting married. Dads mother was a devout Catholic and she might have been happier if Dad had proposed to a good old-fashioned Catholic girl, but Dads parents liked Mom and everyone knew how much in love my Mom and Dad were. Dads parents sat in the front pew on the right side of the church, his mother in a black cocktail dress with a white hat and white elbow-length gloves and his dad in a tuxedo, always prim and proper, and very much the devoted couple.
Moms parents loved my Dad and couldnt have been happier that their daughter was marrying a young, handsome, hard-working farmer. They sat in the front pew on the left side of the church, holding hands, her father in a tuxedo and her mother in a black cocktail dress with a white hat and net over her face with elbow-length white gloves. In the photos, all the women have on gloves; my Mom wore see-through lace gloves as did her bridesmaids, and the women guests wore gloves and hats with their dresses. All the men wore suits and ties. Things were different back then.
Rice bags were passed out in the church, and Mom and Dad were showered with rice as they left. Theres a photo of the two altar boys in their suits in front of St. Anthonys Catholic Church sweeping up the rice, which covered the sidewalk, one of them holding a broom and one a dustpan.
The wedding ceremony was followed by a dinner-dance in Codys Hall, the only place in town large enough to have a reception, which just happened to be owned by Moms fathers brother. The caterer charged one dollar per person, and the buffet table was covered with so much food that I cant see the table top in the photos beneath the array of trays full of salads, vegetables, potatoes, rice, spaghetti, chicken, steak and dinner rolls. Both sets of their parents were bursting with pride standing next to Mom and Dad at the reception in front of the five-tiered wedding cake with a bride and groom on top in the center of a huge heart. It was the perfect night in the small northern California town of Winters. Mom and Dad knew most everyone, and most everyone in town was there.
After the reception, Dad drove Mom to the Claremont Hotel in Berkeley in his 1947 two-door silver Chevy. It was the first stop on their honeymoon. From there, they drove up the coast of California to see the redwoods, then to Seattle and on to Victoria, British Columbia. One might think driving late at night after partying at your wedding reception would be a bad idea, but neither Mom nor Dad drank any alcohol, not even a glass of champagne. They were under age and my parents obeyed the rules. Mom and Dad dated for four years and were both virgins. Mom told me years later that their wedding night at the Claremont Hotel was the first time they had sex, and I believed her.
Chapter 2
I grew up on a farm in a white wooden shack with a sky-blue front door.
My Dads father, Grandpa Rominger, bought the land in 1930, when my Dad was just a baby. The farm was a few miles from the little agricultural town of Winters.
Mom and Dad met at Winters High School in 1946, and although they had gone on a few dates with other people, once they went out together, that was that. When they got married four years later, Dad didnt have a house, so Grandpa gave him the shack that had been built many years before to house the seasonal farmworkers. No one had ever lived in the shack for extended periods of time or taken care of the place, so it was a mess. Mom spent weeks painting and fixing it up. There were rat holes in the floor so Dad cut the tops off tin cans, nailed them over the holes and covered the floor with carpet. The shack may have been a dump, but it was spotless; Mom never stopped cleaning. When Mom and Dad came home from their honeymoon, Dad drove his Chevy up to the wooden gate in front of the white wooden shack and carried Mom up the sidewalk and through the front door.