YOU REMEMBER my old pal Johnny Danger. Now meet the former Betty Rose Elving of Lindsborg, Kansas, the remarkable and accomplished woman who brought Danger and the rest of the Peterson brood into the world.
Betty would have been 100 years old Saturday. She passed away three weeks ago, on June 13. For the notice in her local paper, click the Read More button here.
I asked her daughter, Kathy, in Lindsborg, to scan a few photos I could share with you.
Unlike most Bettys, Betty’s name wasn’t Elizabeth. She was Betty on her birth certificate and was called Betty Rose as a child, to distinguish her from another Lindsborg Betty her age.
In the early 40s, Betty Rose was a Rosie the Riveter, though I can’t imagine her generalizing about a so-called greatest generation in a Norman Rockwell, Tom Brokaw sort of way, that popular myth-making around the simple fact that, you know, somebody had to go to work and get things done.
Betty built airplanes in Wichita, married a fighter pilot, and raised six kids while following her husband’s military career around the world, to posts in Texas, Japan, South Korea, the Pentagon…
To me, what’s most remarkable about Betty, is that despite all the family responsibilities on her, she never disappeared into that Ozzie and Harriett thing of the post-war years. Once women were no longer needed to keep factories running, society expected them to be domestically competent and, beyond that, invisible.
Betty wasn’t built that way. She was a modern woman before most people knew what that was. She had incandescent interests that were deeply hers and proceeded in parallel with her family life.
She was an accomplished musician and music teacher, enjoyed performing into her later years, and remained ever self-motivated to always be learning.
She was informed and could talk intelligently about anything. Her method was to read widely, nonfiction for the most part, and think for herself.
Needless to say, she was hardly a fan of Sam Brownback, the religious panderer and all-around simpleton who got in as governor and whipped that tired old Reaganomics nag until it dropped, much to the harm of local communities, their schools, their libraries. Read up on his “Kansas Experiment” one of these days.
Of her mother, Kathy said, “One would be hard pressed to find a more kind and gentle person,” but she could run out of patience with people who didn’t know what they were talking about. “In my mother’s opinion, a person’s overall intelligence is reflected in where they get their news, what they read, how they process it and how they act on it.”
About a dozen years ago I stopped to see Betty in Lindsborg. I hadn’t seen her since the early 80’s, when Colonel Peterson was still alive and the family was living in Stockton Springs, Maine. All those years later, she received me into her home with such warmth, as if no time at all had passed. I don’t remember where I was riding to. Maybe out to California to catch up with Danger.
I had spent a few days in Pleasanton, Kansas, with brother Bill Peterson and his wife, Sandy. Pleasanton’s a few hundred miles east of Lindsborg, almost into Missouri. As I’m loading up the iron piggy to continue on my way, Bill harvests a cabbage from his garden. You don’t mind dropping off a cabbage to Mom, do you?
That afternoon I show up in Lindsborg, Betty says a what? A cabbage? Oh… All right. And, yes, I do remember you from forever ago.
Yeah, so… hey, Bill, that was awkward, man.
Betty and Johnny Danger in the 70s, shoveling out at the house in Stockton Springs, a nice little town on the Penobscot estuary. I’m trying to picture the map in my head… it’s either the last town on the Penobscot River or the first on Penobscot Bay. Maybe it’s both.
Betty, windsurfing on ice, powered by a parachute her husband had worn in aerial combat.
Note the name on the fuselage. Someone correct me but I’m going to say the plane’s a P-47 Thunderbolt, just from the heft of it, and the way the prop sits off-center in the cowling.
Harry Peterson flew in World War II, Korea and Vietnam. Some time after his death in 1991, Betty left Stockton Springs and went home to Lindsborg, where she and Harry had met in college.
Here’s the local paper’s write-up on their wedding in 1943.
A few random snapshots as the years roll by…
Someone must have taken this one at an Officers Club event of some sort.
The family around 1960.
In birth order, that’s Christine, Tom, Jim, Johnny Danger, Kathy, and Bill. Imagine running that show while leaving yourself room to have a life of your own!
How did you do it, Darling Betty?
Tony DePaul, July 5, 2021, Cranston, Rhode Island, USA
I loved reading about Darling Betty. What a wonderful life she lived, both personally and professionally. There’s no doubt, Betty made this world a much better place. May she rest in peace.
I’ll bet she hated cabbage. And Bill was laughing up his sleeve when I rode off.
Great story, Tony!
She reminds me of my mother, who would be approaching 96, if she were still alive.
My mother did her part for the war effort- helped build submarines at Electric Boat! She was definitely not the ‘Ozzie and Harriet’ type mom! She had 8 kids- 4 girls, 4 boys (good Irish Catholic that she was! – I am #7) She was a strong independent women and a great role model for my sisters and me- and her grand children! My father died at a young age (48) so she did the rest by herself. She is where I get my strength! I just wish I had paid more attention to her stories and/or asked more questions!
Thanks for this story!
Thanks for writing, Beth. Your mom and Betty were definitely cut from the same cloth. What a great role model for the entire family.
What a woman! I loved reading about her, Tony. Stay well.
Indeed, what a life! Thanks for reading, Donna.
Beautiful story, well written. I love the old photos. Extraordinary woman. Exemplary husband. Thanks for this, Tony. Great start for the day.
Glad you enjoyed it, Robert.
As a footnote, we found out yesterday that a friend of ours in Gig Harbor, Washington has an aunt in Lindsborg who knew Betty well, played bridge with her for many years. Small world.
Very good, thanks Tony
Thanks very much for reading, Kjell. My good old Fantomet days!
A P-47D to be exact. Early versions of the “D” had the so-called razorback behind the cockpit. Subsequent models, like this one, had a bubble canopy, which provided greater visibility.
Hope you’re doing well and we’ll see you at the Geezers. Next lunch at Chelo’s is Friday, July 16.
Aha! Thanks for confirming, Len. I’ll hope to get there on the 16th. You had quite an impressive turnout for the inaugural post-Covid event.
Amazing lady and so happy to read this great article of such a rich life led by a remarkable person. I do not remember much from my years in Japan but I met Jon Peterson while working in Bishop, CA and found out how our families knew each other while we all were stationed in Japan. Both our families were from midwestern parents who joined the armed forces during WW II. My siblings only numbered 4 of us but all of us went to school and played sports with some Peterson kids. My mother was in the officers wives club with Betty and they were friends. Both dads were pilots. In 1968 my family left Japan, moved to Utah. Our older brothers played football in Japan and were good friends (Steve Seath and Jim Peterson). Such coincidences that bring up such great memories.
Thanks so much for reading, Cheryl. Isn’t that funny that you and Jon would happen to make that connection all those years and miles down the road. And in a random town on the Eastern Sierra. What a great place, the Owens Valley. It’s so spectacular to watch a blizzard raging in the mountaintops from the dry, high-desert heat of the valley.
Thanks for sharing the story of a strong woman. Perfect for the 4th of July. Cheers, brother.
Strong is the word, all right. How does a life not get just completely overpowered by six kids?
When a couple has one, it’s 2 against 1. When a couple has two, 2 against 2. When a couple has three, critical mass has been achieved, call it 2 against 10.
By the time you get to six it must be something like 2 against 100.
Hey Tony,
My last day in Panama and I’ve been taking care of my friend, Bobby Burma, who I have been hanging out with for 31 years. He just had his prostate removed by Hugo, a brand new robot from med Tronics, and he’s the third person in the world to get this procedure. He got out within 48 hours had no pain and all he does is cry about the catheter And me having to give him his shot. Going back to Seattle and looking for another opportunity to dance for the Nickels of the Man
Peace brother,
Jorge
Hey, wouldn’t it be wild if the Eugene Nelson who was best man at Betty and Harry’s wedding was someone you know? Someone in the collegiate music scene?
Well, what is also in the mix is that Connie’s Mom is from Lindsborg, and it would be even stranger if Verna Jean and Eugene were both at that wedding.
Ha! We have to run that lead down. Pam’s on it.
In 1943, Dad was a 20-year-old finishing his freshman year in music at Luther College, a sister school to Bethany. After that year, he joined the Army Air Corps for the war, returning to school under the GI Bill at St. Olaf College in Northfield, Minnesota.
Amazing story and life. Next time I see you strolling through the neighborhood l want to share a few thoughts from a visit in Maine with Chris’s relatives a few days ago.
You bet, John. I wasn’t aware that Chris had a Maine connection.
This is a wonderful entry.
Hey, you’re still reading even as a sleep-deprived new dad… good sign!
Of course! Still reading Phantom every morning too. Hope you get to meet Rocco soon.