Charlotte Helle: "June was just he opposite of me. She and Ethel looked
more like our Pop I guess. June was blonde, with hazel eyes. Ethel was fair with blue eyes. When I was ten and June was eight she
already weighed about two pounds more than me. June was witty, where I had to
rely on my temper or stubbornness. June was sweet, loveable and cuddly, 2and a half years younger than I, she made friends easier. I used to
envy her. Grandma had a fatty tumor on the nape of her neck. Cold winter nights, June and I, who slept with Grandma, used to take turns
warming it with our hands. I was a daydreamer. After we left the farm and moved
to town, we walked to school. I walked along daydreaming and walked across just ahead of a train coming. June, always alert, waited for the
train. After that Mom used to tell June, "Take care of Charlotte, so she
doesn't get run over". Needless to say, that went over big. June was in
second grade and I was in fifth.
On Valentines Day, I got a normal amount of valentines, but by this time two little boys were in love with June. One named Tommy, one
named Melvin. After school, in our doorway we found two valentines to June from
Melvin, then an hour later 2from Tommy. The next day, 3 from Melvin and a little later 3 from Tommy. This went on for about three days.
Finally, Melvin brought a whole shoebox filled with valentines and deposited a
tour door, "To June from Melvin." That ended the war. I don't know as
either one of the boys ever declared their love verbally. One sad fall, when June was eight and I was ten, we came down with sore
throats and high temperatures. Mom called the nice doctor in our small town of
Wyoming, Illinois. The doctor came every day. We lay sharing a bed, with our
devoted mother taking care of us. Several times she asked the doctor, "Are
you sure it isn't diphtheria?" The doctor always reassured her. Finally,
one day, we felt better. Maybe, I'm the one who felt better, but we'd been down so long. We got
up and played with our dolls and little dishes. June finally said, "I'm tired, I'm going back to bed." I was
frustrated, but she went to bed anyway. She never ever got up again. The next day
she went to the hospital and as near as I can remember, as I was only ten years old, she only lived one day. Those two little boys who had sent
her the valentines would come as far as the yard, but they didn't come to see
their little friend laid out in the parlor in her pink chiffon dress. Her
illness had been diphtheria.
Walter Helle: "In the spring of 1924, when I was nearly twelve years
old, I overheard a conversation between my mother and my older brother, Lloyd.
From what I heard, I knew we were going to have another baby. On June 4,1924, little June was born. She was blond and so sweet that we
all learned to love her as we did little Tootsie. She was the last baby born
into the Helle family, thirteen in all. We were a close knit, happy family and my mother was so proud of her two little girls. As they grew up
she would play and sing with them. To this day, when I hear "Jingle Bells",
a lump rises in my throat and I can see and hear Mother and those sweet little girls singing so happily."
Lee Helle: "Aunt June died before I was born. As a small boy the only
memory of her that I have is when her name would be mentioned, a sadness would sweep across the faces of everyone there. I didn't understand
death but the sadness I could feel." (Sharon Bearce)