My great-grandparents Henry Austin Carringer (1853-1946) and Abbey Ardelle "Della" Smith (1862-1944) married on 11 September 1887 in Wano, Cheyenne County, Kansas. I told their life stories in ABC Biography of #12 Henry Austin Carringer (1853-1946) of Pennsylvania, Iowa, Colorado and California and ABC Biography of #13 Abbey Ardelle "Della" (Smith) Carringer (1862-1944) of Wisconsin, Iowa, Kansas, Nebraska, and California based on my genealogical and family history research over 38 years.
I don't have any "family stories" about their early life except what is in the records I have from family sources, books and periodicals, and online record collections. Fortunately, I have Della's scrapbook, my grandfather's photo collection from three generations, and a number of records about their life in San Diego.
This is a series of short stories. The earlier stories are:
- "Austin and Della: Life Stories - Part 2: New Beginnings" - AI-Assisted Historical Fiction
- "Austin and Della Life Stories - Part 3: Joy and Sorrow" - AI-Assisted Historical Fiction
- "Austin and Della Life Stories - Part 4: Second Chances" - AI-Assisted Historical Fiction
- "Austin and Della Life Stories: Part 5: Roots and Branches" - AI-Assisted Historical Fiction
Part 6: Life Happens
THE Carringer Family 1920-1936
Job Changes
The morning sun filtered through the lace curtains of their home on 30th Street as Austin, at sixty-eight years old, carefully folded the newspaper and set down his coffee cup. The year was 1922, and most men his age were settling into quiet retirement, but Austin had never been like most men. The advertisement in the San Diego Union had caught his eye weeks ago: "Aviation Mechanics Wanted - U.S. Army Aviation Station, Rockwell Field."
"You're thinking about that flying machine job again, aren't you?" Della asked, her knowing smile creasing the corners of her eyes as she watched her husband's weathered hands trace the grain of their wooden breakfast table.
Austin nodded slowly. "These old hands have built houses, Della. Maybe they can help build the future."
And so began the most remarkable chapter of Austin's long career. At an age when most men were content to rock on their porches, he found himself among the wood, varnish, grease and canvas of Rockwell Field, where the roar of engines and the smell of aviation fuel filled the air. The young mechanics initially regarded this silver-haired newcomer with curiosity, but Austin's expertise with wood and fabric soon made him indispensable. His carpentry skills, honed over decades of building furniture, cabinets, train cars and homes, proved perfectly suited to the intricate work of aircraft wing and fuselage construction and repair.
The early 1920s were shadowed by loss. In 1920, Della's beloved brother Davie passed away, followed two years later by her sister Matie. Della spent long evenings at her writing desk, pen in hand, corresponding with distant relatives and preserving the family stories that might otherwise be lost to time. Her neat handwriting filled letter after letter, maintaining the threads that connected scattered family members across the country.
At Rockwell Field, Austin quickly became known as the man who could fix anything. His steady hands and patient temperament made him a natural leader, and he was promoted to foreman of the wood and fabric section. The younger men learned to respect his quiet authority and vast knowledge. He would arrive each morning at dawn, his lunch pail in hand, ready to tackle whatever challenges the day might bring.
Every workday morning, he rode the trolley car on 30th Street which ended at the foot of Broadway on San Diego Bay. From there, he took a ferry “the nickel-snatcher” across to North Island to Rockwell Field.
"Tell me about the flying machines," Della would say when Austin returned home each evening, his clothes smelling of dope and varnish. He would describe the intricate beauty of a biplane's wing structure, the way fabric stretched taut over wooden ribs using dope to stiffen the fabric, the precision required to ensure each aircraft was airworthy.
Housing Changes
In 1927, Austin and Della embarked on their most ambitious project yet. At seventy-four, Austin's architectural eye remained sharp, and his hands steady. Together, they re-imagined their property entirely. The original house was transformed beyond recognition - rooms were added, porches redirected, and a second story apartment created. Austin removed the internal staircase and built a covered staircase to the second floor giving the building a Spanish Revival appearance that was fashionable in San Diego.
"People will think we're crazy, renovating at our age," Della laughed as she watched Austin carefully measuring lumber for the new construction.
"Let them think what they like," Austin replied, his level in hand. "We're not done living yet."
The renovation was extensive. What had been their simple family home became a duplex: 2115 30th Street on the ground floor and 2119 30th Street upstairs. The entire structure was stuccoed over with a flat roof, completely concealing the original frame house beneath. Where the old house had stood, Austin and Della created gardens filled with decorative trees, fruit trees and berry bushes that would provide both beauty and sustenance.
Not content with this single project, they also used a trust deed to finance the construction of a two-story apartment house at 2114 and 2116 Fern Street. The rental income from these properties would provide security for their later years, a practical decision that reflected Della and Austin's lifelong pragmatism.
With Lyle, Emily, and Emily’s mother Georgianna living on the block (at 2130 Fern Street), family life was rich and full. Young Betty was the light of their lives, walking to elementary school each morning and stopping by their garden on her way home. Austin would save the best berries for her, and Della would have cookies waiting.
Weekends often found Austin and Della packing their Model T for trips to the beach, the parks, the San Diego Zoo. Also to Escondido, Dehesa and Descanso, where they maintained friendships with other families who had known the rural San Diego of earlier decades. These drives through the backcountry allowed them to reconnect with the California they had known as younger people, before the city had grown so large and complex.
The Times Change
Austin's devotion to his work at Rockwell Field never wavered. For ten years, he rose before dawn and made his way to the flight line, where he supervised the careful repair and maintenance of the Army's aircraft. His colleagues came to rely on his expertise and steady presence. The aviation world was changing rapidly - what had been experimental in 1922 was becoming routine by 1930 - but Austin adapted to each new development with the same methodical approach he brought to everything.
In 1929, Della kept a journal, recording the daily highlights of their life. The entries painted a picture of a couple still deeply engaged with the world around them: doing business at banks and stores, visiting with neighbors and friends, taking rides around the city, visits from family members from Long Beach and Los Angeles, letters and gifts received and sent, the progress of the garden, Austin's work on the home buildings, and Betty's achievements at school. Some days the highlight was as simple as "Good rain for the garden," while others recorded family celebrations or the completion of a particularly challenging home project.
The family losses continued to mount. In 1931, Della's mother Abbie passed away at age 86, along with Abbie's sister Elizabeth and brother-in-law Samuel Crouch in Long Beach. Each loss was felt deeply, but Austin and Della had learned to cherish the living while honoring the dead. Della's correspondence became even more precious as she worked to maintain connections with the surviving family members.
When the Great Depression descended on the nation, Austin and Della found themselves in a fortunate position. Austin's steady employment at Rockwell Field, combined with the rental income from their properties, insulated them from the worst of the economic hardship. They were able to help family members who were struggling and continued to maintain their comfortable lifestyle.
Retirement
In 1932, Austin's remarkable second career came to an end. At seventy-nine, he finally decided it was time to step back from the daily demands of aircraft construction and maintenance. His retirement ceremony was unlike anything his family had ever witnessed. The young men who had once looked skeptically at this elderly newcomer now gathered to honor him with genuine affection and respect.
The presentation was touching: a formal letter of appreciation recognizing his decade of dedicated service, a large wooden aircraft propeller with a clock mounted in the center - a perfect fusion of his old skills and new expertise - and a comfortable easy chair for his well-earned retirement. Austin accepted these gifts with characteristic quiet dignity, but Della could see the pride in his eyes.
"Ten years," she said that evening as they sat together in his new chair. "Ten years of working with boys young enough to be your grandsons."
"And they taught me as much as I taught them," Austin replied. "That's the beauty of it, Della. You're never too old to learn something new."
Retirement suited Austin well. He spent his days tending the extensive gardens, making repairs and maintenance to their rental properties, and enjoying the company of his friends and family. Betty was thriving in high school, showing the same intellectual curiosity that had always characterized the family.
The large boxes of photographs and ephemera that Della had been collecting over the years represented more than just memories - they were a legacy. She understood that these tangible pieces of their life together would be treasures for future generations, windows into a world that was rapidly disappearing.
In 1936, they celebrated Betty's graduation from San Diego High School with enormous pride. As they watched their granddaughter receive her diploma, Austin and Della reflected on the journey that had brought them to this moment. From their wedding in 1887 to Austin's pioneering work in aviation, from the early days of rural San Diego to the bustling city it had become, they had witnessed and participated in an extraordinary transformation.
"Next year," Della said as they drove home from the graduation ceremony, "we'll celebrate fifty years of marriage."
Austin reached over and took her hand. "Fifty years, and it feels like we're just getting started."
As 1936 drew to a close, Austin and Della could look back on nearly two decades of remarkable productivity and forward to the celebration of their golden wedding anniversary. They had navigated loss and change, embraced new opportunities, and maintained their commitment to family and community. The young man and woman who had arrived in San Diego in 1887 had become pillars of their neighborhood, their legacy written not just in the houses Austin had built but in the lives they had touched and the family they had raised.
The propeller clock ticked steadily on the mantle, marking time in a household where the future remained as compelling as the past.
This is the period of their lives that they should have retired, but I think they were too used to working. Their family was settled, they knew that they would need income after retirement, they loved their home, and were surrounded by family, friends and neighbors in a thriving and growing city.
I want to believe the above fictional account and dialogue is realistic, but it is historical fiction based on my family history research. The account is touching and heartfelt.
This is a series of fictional short stories (but based on actual events in their lives) about the lives of Austin and Della (Smith) Carringer. Getting married in Kansas in 1887, the honeymoon trip to San Diego, raising a family, owning and building their own house, their son marrying, having a grandchild, and living out their lives for almost 60 more years!
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