A photo album Pauline assembled during high school years yielded two of her poems. Her first was brash and bawdy while the second reflective and self-assured. “Boyfriends” likely dates to her junior year (1944) judging by who’s mentioned in the poem and her album photos that year.
The second, “This world that we’re livin’ in” dates to after graduation – but it’s hard to say exactly when. I’ve included the type-written poems plus select photos to illustrate her high school friendships.
This is my poetic tribute to the best Mom I ever had, Pauline Lucile (Morris) Kombol (1927–2011). Happy Mother’s Day from your historian son, Bill Kombol – May 8, 2022.
We girls and our boyfriends,
We have quite a time.
But for the ones we like best,
We wouldn’t give a dime.
I chase after everyone I know I can’t get,
But what do you care, it’s no skin off your tit.
Well, JoAnn likes muscles, Erna like chins,
But some like boys with plenty of sins.
And I’ve got one, you all know who,
It’s Howie I’m speaking about to you.
Valera likes to have about six on the string,
And her heart tells her it’s just a fling.
Now Beve likes Renton, and you know why,
Just mention Tony’s name, and listen to her sigh.
But this thing called love, has broken many hearts,
Yet it has only caused others to let a big fart.
What would you do, if there weren’t any boys?
Well, we wouldn’t be so sad and there’d be many more joys.
But as times goes on and variety is the spice,
You’ll probably be at the church getting showered with rice.
I can picture it now, Erna and her hubby,
She’ll love his chin even if he isn’t chubby.
And here comes JoAnnie showing her muscle,
With her butt held in by a big wire bustle.
And look! There’s Lois, the big old fat,
She hasn’t left the church, ‘cause that’s just where she sat.
She’s an old maid and will never get married,
She couldn’t get Howie, so now she’ll be buried.
Next comes Beve, with her big toothy smile,
There’s pompadour Tony at the end of the aisle.
And there stands Valera, all wide eyed and mad,
She couldn’t get married and am I glad.
She and Miss Calahan are figuring out a way,
That they can marry two guys and be happy that day.
But it isn’t possible and she should know,
And I’m afraid if she ever tried it, to jail she’d go.
It’s ten years later and what do you think,
Here comes a bunch of wopes and of garlic they stink.
If you saw their chins and looked at their nose,
You’d know right away they’re Erna Merlino’s.
Here’s a little boar with his hair piled high,
One look at him and you’d know who he was and why.
I said to him, “Where’s your daddy, Tony?”
He said, “Oh, home eating crackers and baloney.”
But now we will pass, through Renton right now,
And there’s a dame, sittin’ milkin’ a cow.
We look at her face and guess who it is,
It’s our own JoAnn milking a cow named Liz.
I asked her what had happened to all her husband’s money,
She gave me a dirty look and said, “Don’t be funny.”
As I started home, I stopped at the lake,
I wanted to see Howie, so I pulled on the brake.
I went to the door and rang the bell,
I heard Howie yell, “I’m out here in the well.”
In the well I thought, now’s my chance,
To corner him into the wedding dance.
I finally married him after this long time,
And after 80 long years
I’m a bride at 89!!!!!
Appearing in the poem:
Erna – Erna Jean Williams
Beve – likely Beverly Boland, but possibly Beve Rocca
JoAnn – JoAnn (Ewell) Clearwater
Howie – Howard Johanson
Valera – Valera Pedersen
Lois – Lois (Buck) Hamilton
Miss Calahan –De Lona Calahan, Tiger Tales Yearbook staff advisor
Tony – presumably Tony Merlino of Renton
Written circa 1944, during her junior year at Enumclaw High School
This world that we’re livin’ in
This world that we’re livin’ in
Is awful nice and sweet–
You get a thorn with every rose
But ain’t the roses sweet.
I’ve shut the door on yesterday,
Its sorrows and mistakes:
I’ve looked within its gloomy walls
Past failures and mistakes.
And now I throw the key away
To seek another room,
And furnish it with hope and smiles
And every spring–time bloom.
You have to live with yourself, you know,
All your whole life through.
Wherever you stay, or wherever you go,
You will always companion you.
So–it’s just as well to make of yourself
The person you’d like to be,
And spend each day in the pleasantest way,
With the finest of company.
- By Pauline Lucile Morris
Post Script: Morris – Stergion – Puttman – Kombol
Our moms were BFF before there was such a thing. We’ve been 5-year reunion friends since graduation. Their names were Shirley Stergion and Ponnie Morris until they married Jim Puttman and Jack Kombol.
Her name is Lynne always misspelled Lynn and I was called Billy the name she still calls me. They were Tigers from the Class of ’45. We were Hornets from the Class of ’71. Their 1944 picture was taken on the front lawn Enumclaw High School on Porter Street. Our 1968 Ka-Teh-Kan yearbook photo was taken inside the gym of the same building – by then Enumclaw Junior High.
They have both passed to the world beyond ours: Shirley in 2019 and Pauline in 2011. We reached the 9th grade Hall of Fame with our funniest laughs. Lynne became a stand-up comedienne helping people laugh. Bill studied Economics which is no laughing matter.
But wherever our lives have rambled, we share the bond our mothers shared – Enumclaw. Some say it translates as a ‘place of evil spirits’ while others claim it’s a ‘thundering noise.’
Whatsoever Enumclaw may be – where so ever Enumclaw may reside – long may her spirit dwell.
5 replies on “Poetry by Pauline”
Boy- those are some poems. The second one is so true, the first one sure risky.
She was 16 or 17 having fun with her friends. I’m sure she read it to them as they giggled.
I think you need to write a poem about Pauline if you have not done so yet
I wrote a poem for my Dad and read it at his funeral:
April 11, 1979: Dad died on a Wednesday. I wrote this poem on Thursday. And read it at his funeral on Saturday:
The last day we expected was the morning that we feared
the nights we cried so long ago have come to rest right here.
We gazed in one another’s eyes
We prayed that we might cope
We stared through nature’s loneliness
and filled our days with hope.
Every day brings forth each night from which dawns each new day
longings fill the times between with thoughts from yesterday.
We’ll never let our smiles down
We’ll never lose our faith
We’ll never touch the world beyond
or see tomorrow’s face.
The news it comes so suddenly, the sadness travels far
raindrops fall from blossomed eyes as we touched who we are.
We realized the sorrow
We understood the pain
We felt the empty feelings
yet prayed no prayers in vain.
And so we’ll cry these tears of pain from sorrow we must store
the tears we have are tears we’ve cried a thousand times before.
Lovely glimpse into a kinder, gentler world.