Wanda Dee Draper

Wanda Dee McDonald was born on the 11th or 12th of August 1930. Like many of those of her generation she was born at home, out in the country near Roby Texas. The exact date is unknown, but one thing for certain, it was during the Great Depression. Mama didn’t know they were “poor” because everybody was. They worked hard from dusk till dawn, Sunday Church. On a good Sunday Grandma would ring a chicken’s neck and that was dinner. She made beds and pillows out of the feathers. When mama was very young, they lived in a truck. Her Papa had built a shelter in the bed. One of Mama’s earliest memories was when they went from farm to farm to pick cotton, she was too young and would sit on her father’s cotton sack. She always liked it better when it got some padding in it. Living in the back of a truck traveling for work had its drawbacks. The lady’s bathroom was a bucket. Mama’s older sister Elizabeth was horrified when her little sister emptied the bucket as they were driving down the main (Or perhaps ‘only’) street in the big city of Artesia New Mexico. Not sure if “Auntie” ever completely forgave her. They had moved to New Mexico after a family schism. When her mother’s grandfather died one of the Scotch Irish extended family that had settled there said that he went to Hell. Wrong denomination… So, they skedaddled. They were very devout and did not need that “advice.” Grand Pa would not say the word “bull.” It was a “male cow.” The word “pregnant” was also verboten, as was the condition unless dutifully married for the allotted time. They were very humble people. Grand Ma said they could not go to the church that was closest to them. She said that their clothes were not good enough. Mom always kept that sense of humility. Grandma forbid anyone to tell her gorgeous daughters that they were pretty. And if you did it was something my Mama couldn’t believe. She was a master of Kung Fu in not accepting a compliment. She never thought she was good enough. She was. They worked hard and managed to buy some acreage. Outside of Artesia they built their home. Sheets were the original interior “walls.” Grandpa collected round stones wherever he went. With those he built the chimney which I believe still stands. You might see it on the westside going into Artesia. Her church in later years had a hall named after her older brother. Charles had been the choir director. He answered the call of duty during WWII as soon as he was old enough. Into the Marines went a High School boy. His first mission was an obscure place called “Iwo Jima.” I have his platoons’ graduation photo. Young men going into battle. From what I understand only three of them lived. Charles was one, but he was wounded. Shot in the shoulder. He would never talk about the experience. He recovered and went onward through Japan. When the war was over, he enrolled in college with his beautiful baby sister my Mom. Mom was studying Art. She also studied French. Her dream was to go to France and be an artist. One Christmas break they left school to go home and celebrate Christmas. They gave some other students a ride with them. On the way in the dark of night an oil rig trucker decided he could beat them to an intersection. He was wrong. Mom was knocked unconscious for an extended period and badly injured. Charles was dead. She had no idea when she woke up that he had passed and that his funeral had already taken place. Mom was deaf in her left ear from then on. Her rapscallion boys never had a clue though. It seemed she could hear and see everything they did. She did have a good arm though. Disciplining three boys in constant trouble. And to make the task more difficult for her, the youngest, Clint, could fly like Peter Pan and scream loud enough to wake the dead. It was actually a good strategy. Smart kid. One time when she when was hitting Michael on his sitting target he asked her what she was doing. She said, “I’m trying to cheer you up!” He said, “That’s a darn poor way to do it...” She laughed, agreed and stopped. She met her husband Leonard Draper and they were married within two months. He was tall dark and handsome, and drunk. But she gave him another chance. There went her dreams, and there went France. She should have studied Spanish… They wound up in El Paso and life started out pretty good. They had a bouncing baby boy Ray and then Mike and Clint. They went camping, dancing and had good friends that would last a lifetime. As would that scourge, alcoholism. Things got worse. Dad, drank, lots. Eventually after the hell that that was, mom said quit or she would leave. It of course was not that simple, took time. Alcoholics Anonymous became Lenard and Wanda D.’s salvation. Life was good again. For a while… Years passed by, Dad got philosophy, and was a damn good man. Mom deserved better. Unfortunately, he was seriously injured in his front yard. Mom went from being a wife to being a caretaker. For 29 years she gave up her life for the 24/7 care that his injuries required. She gave up her life for him. She had many wonderful people that helped her in this struggle. Arcelia Macias went above and beyond. Arcelia was so special to Mom, Dad, and Michael that she became family, along with her children. Mom taught Art at Fannin Elementary for 25 years. She had a stroke back in September 8, 2018. She never lived at home again. Thank you, Mama. We will always miss you. Wanda is proceeded in death by her husband Leonard, survived by her sons, Ray, Michael, and Clint. Granddaughters Rayna, Amber, and Laura. Arcelia and grandma’s grandkids Daniel, Danii, Fernii, and Fernando. She is proceeded by and survived by some in the “lunch bunch” friends she cherished to the end of her life. She loved us all. Visitation will be from 10:00 am - 12:00 pm with a Funeral Service to begin at 12:00 pm on Monday, June 22, 2020 at Sunset Funeral Home - Northeast, 4631 Hondo Pass Dr. Committal Service to follow at 1:30 pm on Monday, June 22, 2020 at Memory Gardens of the Valley Cemetery, 4900 McNutt Rd. Santa Teresa, NM