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Hero, Teacher and a Scrambled Egg Sandwich
The name of my childhood hero was Virginia Hammacher.
A farm girl from rural Wisconsin, Virginia moved to the big city when she was 18, taking a job as a nanny to a wealthy family in town. Eventually, she became the head of the household staff, overseeing the maids and the new nanny. The family loved her as one of their own, and she was the very definition of devoted and loyal.
After working for the family for seven years, Virginia met a recent college graduate, got married, and moved to the suburbs in 1958. They had three children and a dachshund. Virginia was a homemaker while her husband worked as an engineer.
A dozen or so years later, a young family moved in next door. They needed a babysitter for their two young children since both parents worked. Virginia took the two young sisters in, and became their surrogate grandmother.
I was one of those sisters.
Mrs. Hammacher, as I called her, was very much the center of the world for my sister and I as we grew up. With our parents both working (which was practically unheard of in our area back in the late 1960s and early 1970s), they knew we needed a steady figure in our lives to help care for us when they couldn’t. Mrs. Hammacher was our teacher, disciplinarian, playmate, sage, and security.