Paula Harrigan's name, birth 22.9.1936 and marriage to Don. (Don USA tel 30.11.96)

Paula Duckering FORT WORTH -- After passing peacefully on Dec. 20, 2018, Paula Duckering will be celebrating Christmas with her loved ones in heaven. MEMORIAL SERVICE: 2:30 p.m. Saturday at Saint Luke's in the Meadow, Fort Worth. Reception following. Paula was born Sept. 22, 1936, in Manhattan, N.Y. to Gerald and Dorothy Harrigan and grew up in Great Neck Long Island. As a young girl, she loved spending time at her uncle's farm and making trips to Fort Worth to visit her grandparents. In 1959, she married her former husband, Richard Farrelly, Jr and welcomed a son, her first born in 1960. In May of 1966, she married her husband of 46 years, Don Duckering. Over the next four years, they welcomed their two daughters into the world. She was an award-winning realtor on Fort Worth's east side for over 25 years. After retiring, Don and Paula traveled extensively with their RV spending most summers in Estes Park, Colo. In recent years, she went on multiple cruises and monthly trips to Winstar. She also enjoyed playing bridge and visiting with her friends and family. Known for her outgoing personality and passion for service, she was often found in the kitchen preparing feasts for many notable causes involving church and community. Paula was preceded in death by her husband, Don Duckering. SURVIVORS: Children, Richard Farrelly and wife, Kathleen, Sara Reed and husband, Robby and Lynda Wright and husband, Kevin; and grandchildren, Lauren Farrelly Searway and husband, Ben, Megan Farrelly, Drew and Meredith Wright, Christopher and Haylee Reed and Tasha Duckering.
Greenwood chapel, 3100 White Settlement Road, fort Worth, TX, 76107, 817-336-0584. View and sign guestbook at www.star-telegram.com/obituaries
Published in Star-Telegram on Dec. 21, 2018

Don attended high school at Snohomish, about 8 miles from Everett. (Don 20.12.96)

Donald was educated at Odessa Jr., College and then the University of Tulsa. (Tufts 23.4.96)

When Don was 16 he joined the National Guard. In 1940, the guard was mobilised and was sent to man guns that guarded the Straits of Juan de Fuca, between Canada and the U.S.. After about a year and a half, Don joined the Air Corps and was accepted in to Bombardier School. Don received his wings and commission in 1943 in Arizona and fortunately had done reasonably well that he was sent to New Mexico and then Texas to instruct cadets. (Don 20.12.96)

FS: United States World War II Army Enlistment records Donald N Duckering, Military Service, 16 Sep 1940, Snohomish, Washington, USA born 1920 Washington, 2 years of high school. Civilian Occupation Actors & Actresses, single without dependents. Military Rank Private First Class, Army Branch Coast Artillery Corps or Mine Planter Service. Army Component National Guard (Officers, Warrant Officers, and Enlisted Men), source National Guard Serial number 20948620, Affiliate ARC Identifier 1263923

'Don was discharged from the Air Corps as a 1st Lieutenant in1945 and for several years worked in my wife's family business showing movies. They had several theaters. I went into the property and casualty insurance business in 1950 and retired as Vice President of a medium sized Property and Casualty Codomiciled in Fort Worth, Texas.' (Don 20.12.96)

Donald worked for V.P., Millers Mutual Fire Insurance Company of Texas. His insurance career was 1950 - 1951 Service Fire Insurance, then Independent Claims Service 1951 - 1953, then he worked for Standard Insurance Company, Springfield Insurance Company, Home Insurance Company from 1953 - 1965, then Vice President from 1969 to present. (1989). He retired in 1990. (Tufts 23.4.96) (Don 20.12.96)

Don retired in 1990 they moved to Granbury, about 35 miles SW of Forth Worth, where we live on a lake. My wife, Paula is the daughter of Doctor Harrigan of Great Neck, Long Island, New York. (20.12.96) Her grandmother and mother lived in Forth Worth and Paula migrated here in 1965. (Don 20.12.96)

E mail from Don recieved on the 18th Feb 2003.
RECOLLECTIONS FROM MY PAST By Don Duckering
I'm not sure where to start this recount of happenings over my lifetime but I have been asked by my family to jot down events that I remember. Perhaps they may be of some interest to you particularly if you are a member of my family and have wondered where you came from; at least, from my side of the family.

Probably the best place to start is with the family that came to America. I have an extensive family tree that can be attached if you are interested in going back that far. My father's family came from England and lived their back as far as the 1600's and my mother's family was of German extraction. My mother's father came from Germany when he was 19 years of age. My father's parents were born in this country.

My father was born in Minnesota in 1881 and had one brother and two sisters. The brother, Harmon, died when he was about 35 or so and his two sisters lived into their seventies and had families. Both of my Aunts were teachers but I am not aware of where they received their education. Around the turn of the century the Duckering family moved from Minnesota to Everett, Washington and remained close to that area for most of their lives with the exception of my father and mother.

My mother was born in Omaha, Nebraska in 1891 and moved to Everett somewhere after the turn of the century. My grandfather is listed on my mother's birth certificate as a barrel maker. (another name was used) but that is what he did for a living in Omaha. When they arrived in Everett, he started a seafood market on Hewitt Ave. in Everett and I remember that place well. I can remember that my mother was not too proud of the store. Being a German immigrant, my Grandfather Rose was a very frugal person and they lived in a part of Everett that was not as desirable as, for example, that of my Dad's family. That fact caused my mother some anguish. But in those days the standard of living was not anything like it is today and I think my mother's parents felt it was better than the old country. One thing ascertain was the fact that Grandpa Rose always had a buck and was very solvent. He even kept money in cans hidden in the outbuildings. Remember, there was no FDIC and one made his own security. Around Everett my grandfather was quite well known because he was seen every day delivering seafood to the hotels in the city. He had a horse and buggy and kept the animal at the home in Everett-another depressing fact for my mother.

My Dad's family had some sort of store back in Minnesota and my Great Grandfather was active in local politics. I think the lure of "Go West, young man" was a motivating factor in the movement to Washington State where fortunes (maybe) could be made. I am not sure what my Grandfather did for a living but I think it had something to do with furnishing of wood for fuel. In any event, they always seemed to live well and had a nice house on Summit Ave. in Everett across town from my other grandparents.

My mother, though, was ambitious and a hard worker. She went to Business College in Everett and then became a secretary for the Interurban that ran from Everett to Seattle and kept that job for at least ten years before leaving for Montana.

My father had completed high school and some additional schooling in Minnesota. He was employed at a steel mill as a pattern maker. I'm no sure when or how my mother and dad met but my mother has said many times that they went together for eight years before they married. Those were not the days of fast courtships and futures were deliberate and planned. During the time my folks went together they planned and built a house on Summit Ave in Everett but never lived in it.

My mother had a brother, Bill, and he was one of the group that Mother and Dad ran with. Bill was a little older than Mother and he was going with, and finally married a girl named Nora McDonald who, to my Mother's consternation, was a Catholic. I never could quite understand the problem with that but my Mother had a lot say about it.

At any rate sometime about 1915 or 16, I think, my parents and Bill and Nora got the idea that getting a homestead in Montana was something they ought to try. The Homestead Act allowed citizens to apply for 320 acres in certain areas where the government wanted more population and development provided they lived on the land for a period of time-I think 6 months-at which time they would own it. I'm sure the thought of actually owning 320 acres was a dream come true even though it was in Montana where the wind blows and it gets colder than the proverbial well digger.

Anyway, the plan was that Bill and Dad would go to Montana and settle on the land and establish residency. I don't know if Bill and Nora were married (I think so) but Mother and Dad were not. So Bill and Dad took off on the great adventure to batch and live as well as they could until sometime later when Nora and my Mom would join them. The location of "Paradise" was about 12 miles north of Springdale, Montana about 4 miles from the foot of the Crazy Mountains. (If you could see the place today, you would still think of it as wilderness so you can imagine what it was like then.) Pretty country when it's nice weather but it ain't any place for people who are used to city pleasures.

So Dad and Bill build a small two-room log cabin (no in doorpotty and no running water, except the creek, no electricity and certainly no telephone) that they could live out the next few months. I knew the cabin well because my brother and I went there for a couple years of school many years later.

As planned Nora and my mother came to Montana in January of (I think) 1917 and my Mother and Dad were married in Livingston, Montana in early January and, of course, lived in the little 2room cabin. My brother, John, was born January 10, 1918 and my mother many times remarked that people kidded her about the fact that they were married in early January and John was born January 10. Of course, it was a year later but you know what folks would make out of that. Because of the primitive way we lived and the distance from medical care, my mother felt it was necessary to return to Washington when she thought it was close to the time for my brother or I to be born. She went on the train and John was born in Everett on January 10, 1918.

In the meantime my Aunt Nora made up her mind that she could not live in a tiny primitive log cabin out in the wilderness and somehow coerced Bill to build a house that was more fitting for her to live. I don't know how much of the construction of the house was actually done by Bill but I'm sure my Dad helped do alot of it. The house was build about a mile north of the log cabin and consisted of a kitchen, living room and a bedroom downstairs and two upstairs. Of course, there was no indoor plumbing so one had to resort to a jaunt of about 100 feet or so to the outside privy complete with Sears Roebuck catalogs for clean-up operations. (On cold days in the winter the urge to use the facility had to be very compelling.) The heating was by woodstove in the living room and kitchen. All was much an improvement over the log cabin.

My Mother and Dad moved into the log cabin and I guess lived there for a year or so. Bill and Nora moved into the big house and I think lived there for a year or so. Nora was never happy there and missed her family as well as her way of life. Quite frankly, according to my mother, she couldn't stand the life in the wilderness and made life miserable for my Uncle Bill. After a relatively short time Bill gave up and they transferred ownership of his 320 acres together with house to my Mother and Dad and returned to Everett. I don't know about the monetary arrangements but I think my Grandmother Rose helped out on that score.

So now my Mother and Dad were the owners not only of the original 320 acres but also the 320 owned by Bill and Nora. Also my grandmother had got in on the Homestead Act and acquired 320 acres that adjoined the original property. The location of the houses was in the valley where the creek ran and was sheltered to some extent from the violent winds. But a lot of the property was on the plateau to the west of the valley and that was where the alfalfa and wheat were grown as well as the grazing land for the small herd of cattle and milk cows.

Somewhere in the scheme of things I decided to make an entrance into the world. As mentioned before, my Mother did not feel confident to get the proper care and attention in Montana and again returned to Washington where I was born on June 12,1922. We returned to Montana about 6 weeks after I was born. My brother now was about 4 and 1/2 years older than I so I was the baby brother. He always looked after me and no telling how many scrapes he got me into or kept me out of.

Most of the remembrances I have were after about 5 years of age.
I do remember quite well that my Grandmother Rose had me come t oWashington and we traveled by train to California. The details of the trip are vague but it was quite an adventure for a little kid from the sticks in Montana.

As we grew up we had only he and I to participate in almost every activity. We were the only kids for miles around althought here were other neighbors two or three miles away. My folks would go occasionally to some neighbors on Sundays that had children but for the most part our social life was pretty much avoid. Usually those neighbors were a considerable distance so until the advent of more mobile transportation, the visits had to be close.

My Mother was always concerned about the education that we would probably not receive in Montana and for that reason made arrangements for John, my brother, to go to Everett to live during school. I have always thought that even though my Mother's intentions were good, John was not happy living with my Mother's parents mainly because of their tawdry living conditions and their old country ways. Mostly they lived poorly though they were not poor. I felt that it affected John adversely and eroded much of his confidence.

But, back in Montana John and I did a lot of things together and shared some fun and adventure. The ranch was a great place for kids to grow up because there seem to always be something that could be explored. From the time I could shinny up and get on ahorse we would ride together and go not only on our place but also the neighbors land. My horse was Baldy Slater and John's was Baldy Robecker. I guess the last name came from the previous owner but Baldy just always seemed to be a horse name. Most of the time we rode bareback mainly because I was not big enough or strong enough to put on the saddle. I could get the bridle on but from there I would find a stump or a fence and shinny up. I suppose I was about 5 or 6 when I started riding. As I grew older I would take the horse and go by myself.Usually I had a dog named Prince with me and I started taking my .22 rifle when I was ten. There lots of animals to shoot but mainly I concentrated on gophers because they were plentiful and ate a lot of the grass that cattle and sheep also ate. At one time the county paid two cents a tail for each one and I took advantage of that. Another time a neighbor caught several coyotes and I sold the gophers to the neighbor for a little cash. -Not much!!!

During the summer haying season would be a big job and the neighbors would cooperate in helping put up the hay. The hay would be put up in stacks and my Dad would be the stacker. It was important that it be stacked correctly to shed the elements and Dad was really good at that job. My brother would usually run the bull rake that would go out push the windrows of hay onto the rake. From there he would push or haul the hay to the Overshot stacker and my job was to drive the team of horses that lifted the rack of hay onto the stack. I was probably about 8 when I started doing that job. I remember one time when the hay was lifted onto the stack and Dad came tumbling off the stack getting out of the way of a rattlesnake. He could hear it rattling as the hay fell and knew it was time for him give the snake plenty of room.

Another project of John and I was trapping gophers. I think this job was for the neighbor's coyotes. John was checking the traps on one side of a hill and I was on top of the hill. Suddenly I heard a rattling directly under my horse and looked down to see a rattlesnake about 3 or 4 feet long crawling out from under my horse. Luckily, my horse was calm and did not buck or try to throw me off but I was hollering and yelling for John to come quick. John quickly jumped on his horse and rode to get Dad. I was designated to stay and see that the snake did not get away. Shortly, Dad and John came galloping up and, as they arrived, another snake of lesser dimensions was found closeby. Dad took care of both those pests and the escapade ended with no more fanfare.

In Montana on a ranch one learns to respect, among other things,lightning and snakes. Both can be lethal. One of the stories that my folks told was about the farmer that was mowing hay and was sitting on metal seat when a storm came up suddenly. A bolt of lightning struck the seat on which he was sitting and, of course, fried him. It was always said that horses draw lightning and for that reason I always did my best to get to some kind of shelter in short order. Probably there is some good reason forthe statement mainly a rider is likely the highest object on the terrain and a good target for a bolt of lightning. Later when I was perhaps eleven or twelve I was caught in an open field when a storm came up and a bolt of lightning split and struck the ground on either side of me. The Man upstairs was looking out for me that time.

I recall on one occasion that involved my brother. He had some work to be done up on the bench and there was a storm brewing. We were already home and watching for John to come. He had rigged up a two wheeled contraption that he pulled with the team of horses sort like a surrey that is used for racing . The storm hit and it was a real dinger. Time went on and we were certain John had met some peril. I can recall how worried everyone was. What seemed an eternity passed and, when my Dad was on his way to look for John, he showed up with the horses and the rig and, of course, was soaking wet and scared to death. Were we relieved.

As I have previously mentioned, my mother was quite concerned that we boys would not get a decent education. My brother had gone to live during school in Everett with my Grandmother Rose and had completed at least two or three years of school. I was coming up on six and she decided to teach me at home using the Calvert Correspondence school out of the East. I was taught that way for the 1st and 2nd grades and was probably able to read and write as well as those in public school. In any event it was then decided that school would be held in our district because the district would be disbanded if school was not held every three years.

So, it was decided that the school would be held in the old log cabin that my folks had built. The only students in the school were my brother and I. The next thing was to hire a teacher that had some qualifications. Somehow a teacher by the name of Ethel Greenwood was located and hired. She was an old maid and the personification of an old maid school teacher. She was cranky and gripey, and quite frankly not very bright. She began living at our house and every morning we would walk the half mile or so to the cabin for school. The arrangement of her living in our house did not last long because my mother soon had about all of Ethel that she could stand and Ethel then moved up the creek to neighbor Bishir's place a short distance away.

That change caused my brother and me to think up things that could be done to aggravate poor Ethel. One thing that came to mind right away was to use the services of our resident flock of geese. As a rule, when we would walk with Ethel, we kept the geese from pecking and chasing poor Ethel. But now when we walked separately, John and I would hide in the bushes and wait for Ethel to show up. As we thought, the geese would hiss and run at her causing her to go into an absolute panic. Of course, John and I were splitting our sides laughing but she didn't see us or know we were there.

Another of our mischievious tricks was to hide and let her try to find us when we were supposed to be returning from recess. Anyway, our association with Ethel was, to say the least, a disaster. But we only went to school for 4 months and did learn enough to go on to the next grade which was my 3rd and John's 6th. Thank God, the next year turned out much better because we got a new teacher, Eloise Sasse, and she was a doll. We both learned a lot from here and my mother was able to get along well with her. She was our buddy for years to come and Ieven looked her up in Livingston many years later when Paula and I visited Montana. One thing I always remember was her coming back to our house on Sunday night and her boyfriend would bring her. John and I were peeking out of our upstairs room and watch them smooch a little. We teeheed about that and kidded her as much as my mother would let us. On a sad note, though, I understand they were married and he was later killed in a tractor accident.

There were many other things my brother and I did and some of them brought about some pain and suffering. One time we were playing Tarzan in a clump of trees near our house and were swinging from branch to branch. Everything was going okay until I missed a branch and smacked my lower lip and jaw on a branch. I bled like a stuck pig and I'm sure I wailed like a Comanche. Anyway, I cut the inside of my mouth by jamming my lower front teeth into it. We were a long way from a doctor (40 miles) so I just suffered it out. Another time John and I had cornered a duck in the creek and he was pegging rocks at it. I decided I could do just as well and pitched one toward the duck but unfortunately John was in the way and it caught him on the back of the head. This time it was his turn to holler and bawl and he ran to the house. I thought I had killed him and blood was running down the back of this head. However, he got over it in a short time.

Occasionally some of the family would travel from Washington to visit and my cousin, Ross, who is about my age wanted to go riding. We didn't have enough good horses to go around so Ross and I got stuck with an old sway back mare. We simply never rode that old nag but this time we had no alternative. We saddled her up and started out. Ross was in the saddle and I was on the back.
We did okay for awhile but, because of the swayback, there was no way to keep the saddle secure. As a result Ross was some whata mateurish in guiding the horse and apparently she stepped in a hole or something and whole saddle turned. Naturally, there was nothing for me to hang onto and I landed on rock or something hard directly at my lower back. Both my legs were paralyzed, fortunately they got me home and I stayed in bed for several days until the feeling finally came back. As far as I can tell I suffered no long term effects.

These were the times of the early 30's and came after the stockmarket crash of 1929. We, our family, had no stock but the crash left the country devastated. About this time we received word that it was urgent that we go their house as they needed help. Their name was Platt and they were, as I recall, older people. When we arrived we learned that Mr. Platt had hanged himself in the loft of the barn. Sure enough, he had thrown a rope over the rafter and put it around his neck and did himself in. That was his way of getting out from under the pressure of the hard times and the depression.

The prices of things we grew went down to nothing and most of our neighbors were selling out and going somewhere else. Nearly every week there was an auction sale where the neighbor sold off all their belongings at least for enough money to get tos omewhere else. To a kid like me it kind of fun because we got to see other kids and have a sort of playday. I remember the owner would fix a lunch, which usually consisted of a bologna sandwich and a drink of some kind. It wasn't that we were hungry (at least in our family) but it was different from the usual routine.

My family began to take stock of our situation and felt perhaps it would be a good idea to move. I think mostly my mother was motivated by the fact that there was no school near us that John and I could attend.. It was 12 miles over dirt road to Springdale where they had a one-room school house that taught all grades. The chances of the road being open were very iffy. Infact, one time in the winter we were snowed in for 2 months and it was ccccold. Below zero most of the time. My dad and some neighbors did go to Springdale to get mail and food using a horse-drawn sled.

Sometime in the early 30's we did sell the property to our neighbor, Grant Bishir, whose heirs probably still own it. We moved to Big Timber, Montana and I started public school for the first time. I was in the 6th grade having skipped the 5th grade. I was quite an experience for a kid who had never been in a public school. I did not know you could not talk out loud and soon found out that was a no-no. Of course, other kids thought that was pretty stupid and gave me a bad time about it. However, one of the toughest in the class happened to be a neighbor of ours and I walked home with him. He was a bully and tried to intimidate me and for a while he did. But I finally got into a wrestling match with him and got the best of him. I wasn't a fist fighter but, once I got hold of him, I could get him down. After that things got better and I was accepted as a normal guy.

We didn't stay long in the rented house and leased a place about 11 miles west of Big Timber on the Yellowstone River. It was alot nicer place than the one in the hills. It even had running water and I think an indoor potty. The barns and outbuildings were first class and except for the fact that we did not own the property, it was great. There were new things to explore and lots of good duck hunting. There was even a pond which froze in the winter and we skated there.

The lease or arrangement my folks had at the place apparently terminated and we made a deal to lease and farm a piece of property that had been the location of a resort that was known as Hunters Hot Springs. I had known of this place for years because it was only a couple miles from Springdale. It was originally built because of the hot springs that come out of theg round at about 140 degrees. There was a hotel and a large swimming pool that catered to people who came on the train from the east and bathed in the water because of the alleged healing effects for people with arthritis and other ailments. The water also had a sulphur smell and perhaps people felt that also had some medicinal qualities. We had gone there when we lived in the hills because of the swimming pool. It was prettily plush as I recall. Anyway, the owner apparently began having financial difficulties and decided to end it all by blowing his brains out with a shotgun. Shortly after that the hotel and everything connected to it burned leaving only some outbuildings and a bighouse that was separate from the hotel. We moved in there and it was nice. It was heated by the springs and there were eleven rooms in the house. Our interest in the property was the fields and the grazing land that totaled about 1100 acres. Incidentally, the warm spring water irrigated the fields.

During this time we were now probably about 25 miles from Big Timber where John and I were going to school. The only solution to that problem was that we would board with some people in Big Timber so, when I was in the seventh grade, John and I boarded and went to school for most, if not all, of that year. We would see the folks on most week-ends and during the summer. I was not impressed favorably with that living arrangement but it wast he only way we could go to school. I always thought that had it not been for my mother insisting that we get an education, we would have stayed on the farm back in the hills.

About his time in my life I was close to 12 years of age and the year would be around 1934. This was the height of the depression and it was evident that most people were having a tough time. One incident brought this rather vividly to me. I had wanted a bicycle and had saved up some money. Not much, but maybe 3 or 4 dollars. One day when we went into Livingston I spotted a bicycle that was not new but in excellent shape. The price was 6 dollars and I wanted to buy it almost desperately, however, I did have that much and my folks didn't have it to spare. Needless to say, I was disappointed and never forgot how poor it made me feel. When people today complain about hard times, I feel certain they haven't experienced anything as bad as those depression days.

Again my folks decided it was time to move on because we were not making our way in Montana. Going back to Washington seemed to be the logical thing to do and we prepared to pull up stakes and start over. It was about time to start school again. I was now starting the eighth grade and John was a sophomore in highschool. Going to live with my Rose grandparents seemed to be the only alternative. I, for one, was not looking forward to that because the way they lived was very depressing. The good thing was that it was only going to be for a short time until the folks could sell their belongings and get enough hopefully to begin again in Washington. As it turned out, it was only six weeks but to me it was a miserable time. John and I traveled together on the train to Everett and our new life began

School in Everett was the "pits". We went to a school that was in the sort of tough area of town and the kids there were not the kindest. They proceeded to make my life pretty uncomfortable because I came from the sticks and was not nearly as worldly as most of them. At least I did endure the 6 weeks I was there but the time could not end quickly enough.

My folks did arrive in about six weeks and we found a place to rent in Snohomish which is located about 8 miles from Everett.The school there was as different as night from day and I always look back on the days there as happy and productive ones. Our next door neighbor was the Johnson family and their son, Forrest, was in the same grade. We struck a friendship which lasted for many years. Forrie and I were in the service together and I was his best man when he and Kathleen married. He stayed in the service and eventually attained the rank of full Colonel. Sadly, though, he died of cancer at the age of 46.

While I was going to high school in Snohomish, I decided to join the local National Guard unit that manned the coastal guns at Ft. Worden on the Olympic Peninsula. The big deal about joining was that I would earn $1 per week for drilling for one night and $14 for the 2 week exercise at Ft. Worden in the summer. I was only 16 and was supposed to be 18 before I could join but one's age was not checked and many of my friends in school were already in. My mother was not keen on the idea and told me she was afraid we were going to have a war. Anyway, I did it.

The Commanding Officer of the battery was also my shop teacher and more or less took me under his wing after I had been in the unit for a while. The job of Company Clerk was available and I was offered the job. It paid an additional $5 per month and I could use the money. I was not a very good typist but I managed to muddle through and was doing reasonably well for a kid not quite 18. All progressed okay. I went to camp that summer as the company clerk and was about to be promoted when I graduated from high school. However, it was then that we received word that the unit was going to be activated, originally for one year, in preparation for the possible war. At that time Hitler was going into Poland and it appeared we would be drawn into the defense.

When we received word we would be called up, Forrie and I decided to take a trip to Grand Coulee dam to see it before we had to leave for active duty. On the way to Grand Coulee Forrie got the grandiose idea that we should also go to Yellowstone because I had been telling him about the trip I had made there that summer. We were gone about 9 days and during that time lots of work was needed in company clerk job. To make a long story short, I was relieved of my job and replaced. It was big mistake on my part and it caused me to be thrown way back on the promotion list. The guy that took my job eventually became a Brigadier General. I doubt I would have made it that far but I always felt I should have tended to my duty and not screwed up. It took a lot of work to recover from that error in judgment.

I spent two years at Ft. Worden and mostly the days were boring and uneventful. Of course, after we had been at the fort for a year we were supposed to be finished without active duty and return to civilian life. Perhaps if that had happened I might have figured out a way to go to college. But unfortunately, the war in Europe started and then the Japs bombed Pearl Harbor so we were stuck for the duration. In the spring of 1942 I decided I had had enough of the GI business and applied for Cadet training in the Army Air Corps. I went to Seattle and took a test to see if I was smart enough to get in. Most of the applicants had some college training; however, I came out with a good grade and decided to go to bombardier training. I probably could have qualified for pilot training but I saw some of the unlucky wash outs that came across the field on their way to the foot slogging infantry. I didn't care to take that chance so bombardiering was it.

Because of my previous military service I was made a Cadet Officer during the 6 months I was going through training and, when I graduated and got my wings and my gold bar as a 2nd Lieutenant, I was given orders to go to Deming , N, Mex. as an instructor. My preflight training had been at Santa Ana, Calif. and advanced training a Williams Field, Ariz. I was one of ten chosen out of 90 to become instructors. I went to Deming in early 1943 and began instructing cadets to be bombardiers. In February of 1944 I was promoted to 1st Lt. and about the same time I was transferred to Midland, Texas to open a school whose purpose was to train the returning bombardiers who had served inc ombat to become instructors and relieve us to go overseas.

During this time I met and married Agnes Scott. At this time in my life I was pretty sure I was going into combat and all the rest of the guys were married so why not me. As it turned out, we were married for about 22 years and raised two sons, John and Don. Unfortunately, after the war times were much different and in 1966 Agnes and I divorced.

Agnes' family was in the theatre business and through the hard work and strong will of Maggie (the matriarch of the family) the business prospered and all the family depended on it for their livelihood. I worked at the theatres for several years but I could see that I was getting nowhere and, if I didn't find another occupation, I would have a problem. Also some of the family resented my drawing a salary (such as it was) and felt they were sort of keeping me up.

I then found another job working in the insurance business as a claim adjuster. I stayed with that job although I did change employers a couple of times. I was offered an opportunity to go to Tulsa with the company I was with and moved there with my family in about 1960. As it turned out Agnes did not like being away from her family in Texas and we moved back to Odessa in a year or so and I continued to work for the company that had purchased my former one. Some how I found myself back in Tulsa in a supervisory capacity but, quite frankly, I didn't like living in Oklahoma and started getting out my resumes looking for a better position in Texas.

I had several opportunities and accepted a position with a company in Fort Worth as an assistant manager of the claim department. A year or so after I took that job my boss retired and I was promoted to General Claims Manager and given a title of Vice President I stayed at that job for 25 years and retired at age 68.

After starting with the Millers, Agnes and I had divorced. In order to try to get ahead and make up for some of the lost time as far as my education was concerned I enrolled in a Dale Carnegie course to try improve my public speaking. There I met my future wife, Paula, and we found we had a lot of things in common and decided we would make a good life together. In May 1966 we were married and now almost 37 years later it has worked out well.

Hood County News, May 16, 2012 - Don Duckering
Don Duckering of de Cordova, at almost 90 years of age, climbed his last mountain Thursday, May 10, 2012.
Memorial service was Saturday at Emmanuel Lutheran Church, Granbury. Interment: Saturday at Greenwood Memorial Park.
Don was born June 12, 1922, in Everett, Wash. and grew up on a homestead in Springdale, Mont. He graduated from Snohomish Washington High School in 1940. In 1938, he entered the U.S Coast Guard and transferred to the U.S. Army Air Corp in 1940. Don was a bombardier specialist instructor during World War II and was a First Lieutenant when he was honorably discharged on 1945.

Don married Paula Harrigan in 1966. He retired in 1990 after 25 years of service as VP of Claims for Millers Insurance Group. After retirement the two travelled extensively in their RV, spending most summers in Estes Park, Colo. He was an avid biker and jogger, and loved mountain climbing in Colorado, including Longs Peak.
Survivors: Wife, Paula Duckering; children, John Duckering, Richard Farrelly and wife, Kathleen, Sara Reed and husband, Robby, Lynda Wright and husband, Kevin; grandchildren, Tasha Duckering, Lauren and Megan Farrelly, Drew and Meredith Wright, Christopher and Haylee Reed.

Richard Farelly's was Paula's first husband. (Don 20.12.96)