Kris Hoover
GROWING UP
My Life, My Way
I grew up in Lombard, Illinois—fondly known as the Lilac Town—and it truly was a wonderful place to be a kid. It felt like the best of middle-class America. My dad built our cozy three-bedroom home, complete with a great yard, just half a block from the school we went to.
One of my favorite stories is about when we painted the house. My mom picked a bold color called candy pink. Her dad helped with the painting and definitely questioned the choice—but in the end, we had the very first pink house in the neighborhood! It stood out among all the whites, beiges, and browns, bright, cheerful, and full of personality—just like our family.
Some of my earliest memories take me back to a place called Teal Lake, where I went fishing with my grandfather. We even caught frogs for dinner. People often say I was too young to remember, but I can still clearly picture the little cabin and the peaceful lake. I remember my grandmother cooking those frog legs in a pan on the stove, and afterward, we’d head down by the water to watch the sunset, listening to the haunting, beautiful calls of loons as evening settled in.
Back at home, my brother and I spent endless hours climbing the trees in our backyard, pretending we were on a rocket ship. We’d get scolded if we climbed too high—but that never stopped us! We’d sway those branches like crazy, and somehow they never broke. There was just something magical about being up there, and I always wanted to climb as high as I possibly could.
There was so much more to this and maybe I will fill in the blanks later, but all anyone needs to know right now is life was good and our life was simple. My father was a supervisor for a paving crew and worked from before dawn until just before dusk. We always had home-cooked, healthy meals, and after dinner we would watch TV on a small black-and-white round screen. The best day was when we got our first color TV and watched The Wizard of Oz. I was always scared of the monkeys, not the witch, just the monkeys! Dad worked Monday through Friday, and on weekends we were usually working in the yard; everyone had their chores to do. My mom loved her flowers and vegetable gardens, and when we weren’t doing that, we were camping or fishing—almost every weekend, weather permitting. Mom would have everything waiting and when dad got home, he showered and then we left. We took trips to Winneconne, the Wisconsin Dells, and Necedah— and camped on the river between two larger lakes. There were lots of bugs, but fishing made it worth it. The best were the walleyes, but white bass, sunfish, and perch were always available. Then there was the catfish and they were the most fun to catch as they were fighters. Nothing was wasted and I was the one who always ended up helping clean them. Summers were wonderful, but winters had their own kind of magic. My great-uncle worked at Morton Arboretum, which was built on land that once belonged to my great-great-grandfather. My dad’s mother, Lillian Downer, was the granddaughter of the founders of Downers Grove, Illinois. The Arboretum became our winter playground. We went sledding down the hills between the trees. When Mom came along, Dad would sit in the trunk of the car and pull us behind on our large sled. Maybe not exactly legal—but it was a lot of fun! It was a great time to be a kid, and I have nothing but good memories. That school I mentioned earlier—just half a block away—was also where I saw my very first dog show. Cars were lined up along the street beside our house, and being the curious kid, I was, I had to go see what was happening. The first thing I noticed was these big, white, very fluffy dogs. When I asked what they were, a couple told me they were Samoyeds—a working breed. There were also Dachshunds, Collies, German Shepherds—so many different kinds of dogs. I had never seen so many breeds before. We had always had mixed-breed dogs, so this was my introduction to purebred dogs—and they were beautiful. When you experience something like that as a child, you never forget it. But my life was about to change. Along with age comes changes!
PRE-TEEN
THE ACKWARD YEARS
My sister was a bit older than me and she in my eyes was so pretty, just like my Barbie doll and her name was Barbara, but to me, she was Barbie, but to everyone else it was Barb or Barbara. She was very important to me at this stage of my life as she was not only my big sister, but she was also my friend. My mom had to get a job and was now gone just like my dad. She always took me everywhere and sometimes even on dates. We had a code and she used it well. When a boyfriend would get a little too frisky, she would put her hand over the seat and wave, and that was my queue to interrupt. The only way she could go on a date with a boy was if her little sister went along. Her plan worked well. Little sister could learn a lot about boys and what they would try to pull. The ones that were gentlemen didn't care but the ones that wanted to get past first base didn't like me. The nosey little sister worked every time.
Then things changed, she graduated, got a job and was being romanced by someone that I didn't like from the first time I met him. But they were now going to get married. That is another whole story in itself, and I am not going to get into that one either. They took my brother and I along on their first vacation. I never understood why, but it was truly an adventure for us. We were heading to Glacier National Park in Montana. I was now on the most amazing cross-country trip, and it took a couple days in the car till we got there. All eastern Montana was rolling grassland with endless deer, antelope and a lot of cattle and all open range. No fences and animals everywhere. Oh, and might I add, no speed limits. It was called reasonable and proper. I remember seeing the Rockies off in the distance, and it took forever to get to them. I think they were sick of us asking, when are we gonna get there? Even as a kid, I fell in love with that place, the following year we went on another vacation with them only we started out going up into Canada across three Province's and the ended up back in Montana again before we headed home.
My mom wanted to do something special for me, for my fourteenth birthday. She got me the two things that I wanted really bad, a real Ringo Hat and white go-go boots. Then took me to a movie in town at the DuPage theater. I can only say that my mom had no idea what the movie was about, but we were going. My very first movie was The Graduate, it was 1968, and I had just turned fourteen. Let's just say that it wasn't what she thought it was, but we watched it anyway. Then we didn't talk about it much and I believe she said don't tell your father! Then my dad saw the outfit-my hat, boots and first mini skirt. I guess you could say he was not amused! The conversation they had later over that was interesting. But the worst one was when my sister bought me my first bikini swimsuit and the last word I heard was take that damn thing off; you are not going to the pool dressed like that! Dragging my father into the sixties was not easy!
THE TEEN YEARS
This was truly the point where my life changed drastically in a short period of time. I was just fourteen when I met my first husband. Not old enough to date but my sister and I walked downtown, and the two Tom's started following my sister and I and talking to us. It's just what you did back then. The friend had just about the coolest car I had ever seen. This was a Mark IV California Special with the louvered back window and was dark green with black markings, THE BOSS. They asked us if we wanted to go for a ride in it. My sister said yes! Sweet, sweet car! I still couldn't date but when I got to my first day in high school, we started seeing each other. Tom was a junior, and I was a freshman; from there we became a thing. My Tom ended up with a 1964 GTO convertible, and I loved that car and unfortunately was the one the trashed the motor. These were also the days of drive-in movies and where I first heard the motor of the car in Vanishing Point. The white Hemi Challenger and I had no idea what it was, but I liked it! Then there was this house on Main Street and every once in a while, the garage door was left open, and I saw the Purple Hemi Cudi with the white billboard and that began my love of those cars. I only saw and heard that car out only once. But that sound and the rumble of that engine. Sad story, the kid that owned that car drove it just one summer before he left for Vietnam and he didn't come back. When I went to the Vietnam War Memorial I found his name on the wall, along with so many others. My ex was only one number away from going, and I remember when they stated that no more would be called up to serve.We both felt like we had won the lottery that day!Things still were ok until my sister gave birth to twin boys, and they were a handful, and she needed my help. I would go and stay with her and help her as much as I could. And then something happened, and the next thing I knew was that she was moving to Montana. She invited me to come out there for the summer. So, it was my first ever cross-country train ride and that was where I fell in love with a place. Beautiful Flathead Valley and another adventure in my life. For a city kid, going to Montana for the summer changed me forever. I was no longer satisfied with where I lived, and I now had a goal, and it was to live in the most beautiful place on earth to me.The story will go on, but for now that is just a small sample of how I started and where I came from. The story will continue if you wish to see more, but for now I will leave you with a few photos and the story will continue!