Margaret Reid Anderson

Margaret “Peggy” Reid Anderson: April 1st, 1924 through March 1st, 2022 just a month and two years shy of a century. And what a century it was! We each have our stories of this passed century. You are about to read my version of “Peggy’s story.”

My name is David Anderson. My brother Gary and I knew Peggy as “Mom”.

The woman most of you knew as “Peggy” Anderson started out life as Margaret Reid Newell, from one of Salt Lake City’s oldest neighborhoods, “Sugar House”. Being born in 1924, Peggy was honestly older than sliced bread; the electric bread slicer wasn’t invented until 1927.

Like most of us Peggy’s beginning identity was formed by her immediate family; her mom and dad, a couple of years later her brother Bud. And later still her brother Dick. Surprising or not, mom managed to outlive all four of them, but not by much. These four people laid the primary building blocks for the foundation of what became the Peggy you all knew…Well, them and the time she was born into.

The mid 20’s was a kind of “Roaring Never Never Land” pushed in between two world wars. A time when some in our country could take in a deep breath and a long exhale. Others were too busy working to make ends meet for that kind of fluff. By the time Peggy was out of diapers (which were cloth by the way, and held in place with enormous steel pins) the cloud of the great depression loomed over every city, town and village in our country.

Like all of us, who Peggy was as a child, grew and changed as her 20’s approached; the country was just barely recovering from The Depression and then, the next world war was at her doorstep. Peggy was never in the military. But she served her country as a civilian, hired to help the Army Signal Corps at Fort Douglas near Salt Lake City maintain its domestic communications with both European and Pacific fronts. Very soon Peggy was in charge of the entire office, both the military and civilians. Which, incidentally, was where she met the man she would marry, Lyle Anderson.

In the 40’s the movies, which at that time were both a treat and a passion for Peggy, had started to shift… from the “On the Road” comedies and “Happy-go-Lucky”, but down on your luck films; to the Patriotic Farmer goes off to war.

By the time that war had ended and things had settled down a bit Peggy and her family had moved to Alhambra California, where her dad had transferred to a better job with Western Union in downtown Los Angeles. Lyle was now stationed at Fort Monmouth NJ, still in the Army until late 1946. But in March of that same year, he took the train to LA so they could be married by the minister of the “Friends” church here in Alhambra. They honeymooned here in the LA area, but within the week they were both on the train back to New Jersey where I was born. Ironically, on the 5th anniversary of Pearl Harbor Day.

Within the year Dad was discharged from the Army and they moved back here to Southern California to be near mom’s family. And the movies shifted again. Not often showing the possibilities of a happy life on a farm or small town. Now they sold less hope and more drama, it was Film Noir; the darker scarier side of coming home, that told of her brand-new post-war reality.

Opportunities, to be sure, but opportunity often requires a willingness, a comfort, if you will, with the thought of having to change with the times. But by this point in her life Peggy was set in her ways. She had just spent over four years bossing around all those privates, corporals, and likely even a few lieutenants in the signal corps. And she now knew her own mind. But don’t let me mislead you… By all accounts, Peggy was happy being a wife and a mother. But, as her first born, I know that often her thoughts turned to what might have been for her.

The United States was booming. New and wonderful things were being created, built, bought and sold. Including houses. We moved 5 times in the fifties. The third move, in ’52 was so we had enough room for my new brother Donald. And then again in ’58 for the arrival of our youngest family member Gary. Later that year they bought their first new home in El Monte. Hell, the average wage back then was over $4,000 a year. Which was about what my dad made. Now, I ask you… how could it get much better than 4K a year? Three years later they bought the last home they ever lived in, in a wonderful community called the “San Gabriel Village” just a few blocks from the mission San Gabriel.

Peggy was somebody that very well could of, and quite likely should of, been someone in business, I mean in a worldwide sense. She had drive and she had good ideas. She was bright. And she was pretty. Peggy should have been in charge of a big manufacturing firm or a chain of retail stores. But like so many, both, before her and after, day to day lifetime happened and most of her energy went into just getting to tomorrow. Instead with three kids mom organized her time to support each of us growing up, through: Indian Guides, Cub Scouts, Little League, and many many years with the PTA. She also supported others with Alhambra Friends Church and later on Whittier’s First Friends Church.

But I can tell you, for me, as a child, Peggy was a great mom. She packed a mean school lunch and took charge at those PTA meetings. She even made great fried chicken. Peggy was also one of the best neighbors you could wish for. She honestly cared for people and helped them grow and learn, and share.

Mom had three children, all boys, two of which survived both her and their father. Don, our middle brother, only made it passed our dad’s demise. There was over 6 years between each of us three kids. So, in effect, we grew up mostly as only children. Each, in his own way experienced a loving life with mom and dad. With a 12-year spread between me, the eldest and Gary, the youngest, the two of us surely had different experiences in our parental relationships, especially after Dad passed.

A short while after dad’s death mom moved out to Yucca Valley to live at Ingleside Lodge where her mom also lived. The lodge was created and owned by her brother Bud and his family. Peggy had a plan for the end of her life, but the universe didn’t seem to know of it. Even though she was living with extended family all around her, she was pretty sure they were going turn her into a Catholic. I never was able to get her to tell me why that was to be avoided. Especially, given the fact that she loved to brag to folks about how Bud, Carrie, and their family built a beautiful assisted living facility with a grade school and a chapel all on the same grounds. She was very proud of all of them.

Like I said, Peggy had a plan. Her plan was to pass on before her husband. Well, the good lord apparently had a plan as well. While we will never likely know its details, but I can guess it had something to do with sticking around long enough to teach so many of us what we needed to discover through our own relationships with Peggy.

I’ve mentioned “time” several times already. Time, for us humans, who live in one body for our one lifetime here on this planet, is often the major way we measure our lives. Our time, gives us context. So, in time, Peggy lived a long life. Nearly a century. Peggy, during her time here, loved and was loved, helped, served and participated in her life well and often…More, earlier than later, to be sure. But she did her best and it was good. We both miss her and wish her well on her spiritual adventure in space and time. Gary and I thank each of you for your friendship with our Mom over these many years.

Fond memories and expressions of sympathy may be shared at www.rosehills.com for the Anderson family.