Make your own free website on
Home | Author Info & Bio | Blog Updates | Scheidies Articles 1 | Scheidies Articles 2 | Poems: The God Connection | Devotionals: First I Bow | Books for Kids & Tweens | Non-fiction Books | Especially for the Christian Writer | Fiction Books | Writer Resources, eCard links | Politics, Science and Faith | Contact & Comments

Tales of a Simpler Time: Wisconsin Childhood Remembered

Click here to order print copies--see inside

Click here for Kindle version


Larger Print

Carolyn R Scheidies, has released a memoir entitled TALES OF A SIMPLER TIME, Wisconsin Childhood Remembered.

Scheidies is the daughter of Rev. William Fredrickson who served the Siren Covenant Church in the late 1950's. She said, "I have fond memories of my growing up years in Siren." Carol Dykstra, who was a childhood friend, from Siren wrote the foreword to the book.

Scheidies said, "I was just a kid when we left and I lost touch with Carol. When I was working on the book I tried to make contact with the Siren Covenant Church only to discover that Carol was the church secretary. Considering she was one of the main ones I wanted to contact, I was elated to reestablish that connection."

TALES OF A SIMPLER TIME, Wisconsin Childhood Remembered, is a look back at a more innocent time when faith and family were important values. This look back helps us refocus our own priorities, provides a new perspective and gives us a foundation of hope for today.

Through vignettes and stories, Scheidies recreates the 50's of her childhood. Scheidies views this as a gift book and a pleasant read down memory lane (for many) or for a glimpse of a more secure life that many in this generation wish they could live now, and can through the pages of a book. Looking back helps us look ahead with renewed hope in ourselves, our faith and our world.

Some of the chapters are: BOPPING BOREDOM; THE PICKLE FACTORY; DANNY; WINTER WONDER SKATES; MEMORIAL DAY REMEMBERED 1958; DOWN THE RABBIT HOLE; CHOSEN (How A Train Ride Changes A Little Girl's Perspective) and many more.

TALES OF A SIMPLER TIME reminded me of a much-loved classic, Life With Father.--Lauraine Snelling, author of The Red River of the North series, The Healing Quilt and her historical, Ruby.  
Carolyn's book, TALES OF A SIMPLER TIME, is like climbing into an innertube and gliding through a river of childhood memories of growing up. Enjoyable and fresh! This book will take you back home. --Linda Evans Shepherd, international speaker, nationally syndicated radio host, president of Right to the Heart Ministries and author of fifteen plus books including Intimate Encounters with God .
Carolyn Scheidies eloquently unveils “life lessons” in this heart-warming collection of childhood memories. Always vivid, often poignant, “TALES OF A SIMPLER TIME” weaves subtle insight into the tender taste of the past. It’s a book to capture your imagination and delight your heart. --Lori Z. Scott, an author whose credits include MOPS International, DKA Magazine, contributor to Zondervan’s “Real Moms” and author of the Megan Rose series for kids.

Memorial Day Remembered 1958

Dad looked years younger in his army uniform, handsome even. He stood so straight and tall in the drizzle of the cemetery that I stood straighter too. As I waited for the ceremony to begin, I thought about all the things he’d told me about WW II.

He’d been a young man heading off to war in the early 1940’s, yet older than many of the raw teen recruits.

Born in 1912, Dad had to be in his middle to late twenties, not so young after all, and not so long married. As other wives of the time, Mom let him go to save the world from the Nazi and Fascist menace of oppression, from those who hated those “different” from themselves.
And the soldiers did, quite literally, save the world for democracy and freedom.

Even the decision to bomb Japan came out of a desperate desire to break the back of an enemy who viewed suicide missions as the highest form of worship, and to bring an end to a war that dragged on far too long. Too many lives had been lost. Japan drew us into that war with the unprovoked bombing of Pearl Harbor.

Dad became a medic and followed the soldiers in North Africa and Italy. He worked directly behind the front lines before these units became known as M.A.S.H Units.

He was justly proud of his service to his country and often told me stories, when I begged, of his days in the army. Purposely, I’m sure now, he kept his stories in a lighter vein.

He chuckled as he told me of another medic, sent to pick up fallen soldiers, who found himself behind enemy lines. “He drove,” said Dad, “like crazy trying to find his way back to safety. He made it, too. ”
He enjoyed telling me about one pompous lieutenant. “He was used to the finer things of life,” Dad told me. “Somehow, he managed to carry an air mattress along from location to location, though I’m not exactly sure how he managed that.”

Dad’s arms tightened around me as I sat in his lap and leaned against the security of his chest. “One night enemy planes strafed our camp. Ah, that is, they shot at us from low flying planes,” Dad explained.

“Oh.” My eyes widened.

Dad hurried to say, “Of course we all ducked for cover.”

“Was...was anyone hurt?”

“No, Carolyn, not that time.” A grin spread across his face. “That lieutenant had been sleeping when the planes flew over. They missed the officer, but a bullet went straight through that air mattress.

“The air wooshed out and he landed whop! on the hard ground. That thing went flat as a pancake. That was the end of the lieutenant’s comfortable bed.” Dad laughed.

He told other stories, too, some more grim.

He told of being forced, by circumstance, to do medical treatments for which he had little or no training. When he returned home, he never forgot.

All this flitted through my mind as I stood that Memorial Day chilled from the cold drizzle along with the rest of my elementary school classmates.

We’d been invited to march with the soldiers, who were all in their smart uniforms, carrying flags to graves at the local cemetery.
Waving our little flags, we stood at attention as the soldiers, in unison, aimed and fired their rifles into the air.

I knew the graves held the bodies of men and women, brave soldiers, who hadn’t come home alive from war, and I choked up. I glanced at my father; glad he wasn’t one of them. As though understanding, he smiled a soft, rather sad smile.

I’d feel Dad’s arms around me again, but many soldiers didn’t come home, don’t come home. And yet, I sensed a certain pride among these soldiers, and I felt grateful for their sacrifice, for some, the ultimate sacrifice.

Dad said later, “Going to war for a just cause is the price we must pay. Each generation has a sacrifice to make for freedom.”

...It may take sacrifice of things, of people, of lifestyle, but most of it takes pulling together in faith to make sure none of those soldiers who gave their lives, gave them needlessly.

Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends. --John 15:13 KJV

2009 Carolyn R Scheidies Tales of a Simpler Time: Wisconsin Childhood Remembere

Click 2 hear 1st Chapter of Tales

(From the 2009 version. Though this tale hasn't changed in the 2016 version.)

2002-2017 By Carolyn R. Scheidies--All rights reserved.
Please do NOT use anything on this page or web site without permission. Thank you.

Scheidies author of features fiction mystery, history, romance,