By Leslie Stoddard
Barely in her teens, arriving on a foreign shore, a shy mother holds her six-month old, Marianne, as the naval ship U.S.S. Daniel Sultan docks in San Francisco.
She is puzzled and wondering why the famous Golden Gate Bridge in San Francisco is orange. Through her tears of joy, she sees her young American husband in the distance with his parents waving frantically. She is introduced to her Mormon in-laws, who lovingly hug her.
Her dream to marry an American and live in America has finally come true.
She began her first job in Salt Lake City, amidst the encompassing Mormon temple, by bunching onions and radishes for $5 a day. The eight-hour shift was no bother, as she reveled in the experience and considered it a good adventure. She like the feeling of her first American $5 bill, which she instantly gave back to her husband to purchase their supper of hamburgers.
Four months later, she followed her husband to Blackfoot, Idaho, to work on a 20,000-acre potato farm her husband’s cousins owned. Part of her new learning experience included making homemade bread and churning cream into real butter and fresh ice cream. Eager to please her new husband in America, she dabbled in everything to become a good homemaker while living in a small train-caboose for a home.
Six months later, in an old used Chevy, they headed out to sunny California to find her relatives. She longed to live out her dream of being a nightclub entertainer but that would have to wait because of a money crunch and life’s uncertainties.
Baby Marianne was left with her endearing and sweet mother-in-law, Clover. A year later, they were all reunited with Marianne in their first rented home, a 17-foot trailer in downtown Salinas.
My dad worked as a dishwasher, while Mom picked strawberries under the hot Salinas sun to earn enough to pay her Musician’s Union dues. Her first gig was at Monterey’s Hotel San Carlos. A favorite place for stars like Bob Hope where he would stay during the September Pebble Beach Golf Tournament. After two years in piano bars, the move to Southern California was inevitable. Her first entertainment job was in a little dive bar called Raffles. The audience packed the small lounge so much that other club owners enticed her to work for them for more money.
She worked nonstop for 25 years. I was born in Long Beach. My eldest sister was seven years old. In the next four year, I would have two brothers.
The move to Buena Park in Orange County was well thought-out. My dad like the conservative spirit of the town and the summer rush when tourists would come to Knott’s Berry Farm and the old Movieland Wax Museum. He was a cowboy at heart and loved John Wayne, who was from OC. We settled in a tiny two-bedroom apartment on Franklin Street. Five years later, we moved to the general area of the city and we attended Corey Elementary, Buena Park Junior High and finally Buena Park High School where I won awards for being a top track and field star.
My brother Greg was a water polo champion and my youngest brother graduated at BPHS and attended Cal State, Fullerton, where he majored in business and accounting. He now lives in a gated community near Pacific Coast Highway in Huntington Beach. My mom’s garage was featured in the OC Register because we rehearsed in my parents’ garage for years. Suddenly, my “Cause for Concern Band” was discovered and we became busy doing shows. My brother Greg’s band “Psychic Rain,” was signed by Warner Brothers Records. His songs were used in Miramax films.
Psychic Rain was on the Bob and Ken Radio Show on KROQ a lot.
My dad owned his own auto body shop for three years on Valley View near Orangethorpe. He then went to work for Clay James Huntington Beach Dodge until he passed in 2000.
My dad could fix anything and I inherited his talent.
My father was a soft-spoken man and he let my mom make decisions about our strict upbringing. Shades of her early years with the German nuns in the Philippine convent schools. We grew up with so much love despite my mom being a much-in-demand musical entertainer. Wherever she would be performing, she would come home weekly to visit us, wash clothes, clean house for a day, and then be off. She worked in the midwest, northwest, Reno, Las Vegas, but she always came home for one day to see us. I gave her headaches because I had over $500 in telephone bills in one month. I suppose I used the phone a lot. She had to bail me out when I couldn’t make my sports car payment and, yes, a $450 parking ticket I forgot to pay. I was 14 when I cried my heart out to go to the Ed Harrell School of Charm and Modeling. Somehow my mom raised the $500 tuition.
The expensive school taught posture, modeling, fashion, self-improvement, charisma and self-confidence, which I needed badly because I was very shy. The experience enabled me to become the confident and self-assured woman I am today.
What is a mother?
A mother is someone who works long hours and skips meals, so she can cook meals for her children before she leaves work.
A mother picks her children up from school despite her lack of sleep.
A mother makes sure her kids never lack for love or attention, taking them to church and spending her hard-earned money taking us out to pricey restaurants on her days off.
When on the road, a mother makes telephone calls nonstop, especially when we were sick. We never saw our mom worry or cry when money was scarce. Our dad would jokingly tell us, “We borrowed from Peter to pay Paul.”
Our mother would move heaven and earth to get our school clothes.
I never heard my parents fight or utter unkind words. They were always laughing. After my dad passed away, I became a caregiver along with my mom, for my grandma Connie, who passed away at the age of 104, three weeks shy of her 105th birthday. She was featured a lot on the late Jane Haas column on the OC Register. When she died, the local headline read, “BP icon passed away.”
She lived with us for more than 25 years. I like to think that I was her favorite after my older sister left to get married.
A mother accepts you just the way you are even when we were detained in Texas from London, where they loved my outrageous outfits and rock star look. The authorities assumed I must be on drugs. Didn’t they know that I was the lead guitarist for the alternative girls band Cause for Concern? My mom was the event coordinator for the prestigious Songwriters Guild of America. She literally pushed me onstage to host the annual Songwriters Show in Hollywood. My modeling school training helped me shine, which led to a seven-year stint as a TV host for Los Angeles Women in Music monthly talent shows. She taught me to be proud to make God my priority. She taught me to mingle and support conservative candidates who became her friends. She fanned the flame of my musical passion because, like her, I am still performing with three rock bands. Recently, I went to see one of my mom’s shows at the Vivante on the coast near Newport Beach. I joined the audience as we all watched her intently tickle the ivories on two difficult piano solos blindfolded. I knew then that my mom was born to play the piano. She was given this special musical talent to share with the world. After the show, I saw people lining up to talk to her.
That’s when I felt a rustle and a whisper in my ear, saying, “You were the answer to her prayers, a heavenly gift. You are to take very good care of her so she can do her mission on earth.”
