Memories of My Brother Eugene

Beth, Ann, Eugene

Eugene Woodbury, born June 8, 1959, was the third child in our family.  He was the eldest son after two sisters: Ann and I. Next came three younger brothers and a younger sister, Kate.

At the time Eugene was born, our family was living in a small Cape Cod house on Hoover Road in Schenectady, New York.  Eugene was a quiet child, and for the first four years of his life, I didn’t pay much attention to him--except when I found his toys more interesting than mine.  Once, when our parents returned from a trip out West, they presented us children with gifts: “Indian” purses for Ann and me, and a colorful feather headdress for Eugene.  I coveted that headdress, and I’m sure I persuaded him to “share.”     

In the early 1960s, after the arrival of our brother Joe, our parents decided they needed a bigger house.  The cost of fuel was rising, and Dad announced that we had to live within walking distance of work, school, or church.  Our Latter-day Saint congregation was constructing a new chapel in a subdivision called Indian Hills.  My parents purchased the lot at the corner of the chapel parking lot and built a six-bedroom rambler with an open basement.  They landscaped the sloping yard with a terraced patio, flower beds, a few old apple trees, a big sandbox, and a large vegetable garden.

Family in the backyard

Our spacious home and the surrounding neighborhood provided many opportunities for adventure.  Ann, Eugene, and I were allowed a fair amount of freedom; we could run around and play as long as we were home in time for supper.  In the woods on the other side of the parking lot, we discovered a swampy area that filled with water during the spring and autumn rains.  When the water froze in the winter, we slid around on the ice.

As Ann grew more interested in books and ballet, Eugene and I became buddies.  He would tag after me, or I would tag along with him and his pals.  We played tetherball and caroms.  We pretended Dad’s thick patch of corn was a trackless jungle.  We built snow forts in the winter, and during the warm, humid summers, we played wild games of tag or turned the sandbox into a pond—the more mud and water, the better.  In the vacant lot behind our back yard, Eugene and a friend or two dug an elaborate system of tunnels. 

I confess I sometimes instigated acts of mischief—though we always called them “experiments.”  One of these “experiments” involved a metal toy fire engine, an electrical outlet, and a piece of cord from an old lamp.  I will not go into detail, but I think we blew a fuse and barely escaped electrocution.  Eugene wrote a story based on this event; I believe it was published in Cricket magazine.    

Henry, Joe, Eugene, Dan

When Eugene was older, he and the younger brothers conducted more “experiments” in the basement, some of them involving explosives.  (I will let them elaborate on that.  Or maybe not.)  Eugene also built a go-cart that he drove around the church parking lot.  As a teenager, he repaired old television sets.  I recall him lounging in a bean bag chair in his room, sipping a cup of soda while watching a James Bond movie on his latest rabbit-eared TV.

Our father considered TV-watching a waste of time, and he refused to buy one for our family.  Sometimes, we went out to the movies, but at home, our entertainment was provided by books and records.  We listened to the comedy skits of Bill Cosby and the albums of Simon and Garfunkel.  When I was 12 or 13 years old, we spent a long summer weekend at Lake George in a house belonging to some friends from church.  There, we found a collection of Peter, Paul, and Mary albums, and the whole family became fans.

Clockwise from "noon"--Eugene,

Ann, Henry, Kate, Dan, Beth, Joe

Our parents wanted us to be cultured, and they required each of their children to take music lessons or participate in one of the extracurricular school groups.  Eugene played cello and then switched to violin, which he studied through his freshman year of college.  Ann accompanied him on the piano for his final recital.  Eugene also participated in the high school drama club, and he taught himself to play the guitar.  During my attempt to write a proposal for a musical, he composed the music for one of the songs.

After his first year at Brigham Young University, Eugene was called to serve a two-year mission in Japan.  Ann and I were able to spend some time with him before he left.  As a Christmas gift for our parents, we posed for a studio photo.  When I got engaged in 1980, I scheduled my wedding for Christmas break because I wanted Eugene to be there.

During the early years of my marriage, Eugene spent most of his time studying at BYU; he also taught for a year in Japan.  In 1985, during one of his summer visits, he stayed overnight with my two older kids when I went into labor with number three.  (My husband was working out of town.)

After my family moved to Washington, I didn’t see much of Eugene.  But he joined in the sibling e-mail chains, and he worked with me and our sister Kate when his company, Peaks Island Press, published my first novel.

Like our father and his father before him, Eugene was an introvert, very private and reserved.  He didn’t like to socialize, and he never talked to me about anything personal.  I really didn’t get to know him well as an adult.  When I think about Eugene, I remember that sweet, easygoing kid trekking through the cornfield or building tunnels in the vacant lot.

Beth Woodbury Hart

Thanks to Joe for the new photographs, discovered photographs, and perfected photographs.