My Father was born in North Dakota and came to California when he was only two or three years old. His mother was a first born American from a German family who had immigrated from Russia at the turn of the Twentieth Century. His mother, Pauline, had grown up on a rural North Dakota farm. When my grandfather, who was nearly 25 years older than Pauline, drifted through North Dakota and hired himself out as a farm hand, Pauline married him. There were soon two sons, the youngest my Father. There was also a miscarriage, a younger daughter. Apparently, Pauline was cranking an old model T to get it going and the crank misfired, striking her in the belly.
My grandparents moved to Pasadena in the early 1920's to be near other family members. It was there the two boys grew up.
My Grandfather did not always treat her well, but Pauline stayed with him until both boys graduated high school, then left him for a man she had seen around town. My Grandmother Pauline fell in love with the town bum.