Fifty years later, a `Noma' doll shows up, thanks to the Internet

An amazing thing happened to me recently, something I've waited nearly 50 years for. It's hard to imagine I could be old enough to have waited 50 years for anything, but this particular item had been on my wish list all that time.

In the autumn of 1951 I began school in the Georgetown neighborhood of Seattle. My parents, younger brother and I lived in what was called "government housing," and the nearest school was Esperance Elementary. I loved school and went directly into the first grade. A class event we all looked forward to was "show and tell," something I think is still a part of early education. It was great practice for standing up in front of a group and speaking clearly so that everyone could hear you. I utilize those lessons nearly every day in some way. One "show and tell" day, a classmate brought a very special item. It was a "Noma" doll.

"Noma" was the largest doll I had ever seen, because the little classmate who held her looked quite small by comparison. The little girl had to sit in a chair in order to hold "Noma," because "Noma" could perform! This magical doll sang "London Bridge" and "Mary Had A Little Lamb." She recited "Now I Lay Me Down To Sleep." Best of all, she could say, "My name is Noma." Oh, how I wanted that doll!

No one in class was allowed to touch the doll, and she was put into a large box. I was in love. I hurried home after school and begged my mother for this new treasure. I was turned down flat. My parents were working at Boeing and saving every nickel for their dream of opening their own business, a gas station. We owned very little furniture, burned coal for heat and ate Spam as a main course. Besides, a doll that could talk and whose name was "Noma"? Looking back, I realize my mother must have thought I was joking.

I never saw another "Noma" doll, but I did speak once to a woman who had owned one as a child. That conversation reinforced to me that the doll had actually existed, as I'd begun to wonder if I had imagined it all.

Then along came eBay. At a family gathering to celebrate our Pisces birthdays, my grown children and my husband presented me with a beautiful "Noma" doll. On a lark, our son, Jeff, had typed in my name on the Internet, just to see what would pop up. Ta-da! He purchased a full-page advertisement from an old magazine that describes the new "Noma" doll made by the Effanbee doll company, a subsidiary of Noma Electric (you've surely seen the Noma Christmas tree lights). Then, to his surprise, he located several doll collectors who had "Noma" dolls for sale.

The bidding began, but Jeff became discouraged at the cost and dropped out. A short time later he was contacted by a collector in North Carolina who had several "Noma" dolls for sale. When Jeff explained why he wanted the doll, the collector pulled together the best clothing from each of her "Noma" dolls and sold Jeff her best doll for the best price she could afford. It turns out "Noma" dolls were made for only nine months in 1950 and sold for $29.95, which was nearly a month's rent for our family. Today "Noma" sells for between $350 and $500! Jeff enlisted his dad and sister, Rebecca, as co-conspirators and contributors.

Needless to say, I was in shock to receive such a meaningful gift. I had shared my story with my family at some time or other, but I was surprised they had remembered it. "Noma" is a darling doll. She is 28 inches tall and in wonderful condition. Her mechanical parts are a little sadder. It turns out that to make all those wonderful sounds, "Noma" has a miniature record player inside her.

My husband has taken "Noma" apart and tried to work his magic on her voice box, but he's had little success. It doesn't matter; I'm just so happy to have this wonderful gift. What I'm most happy about is to have a family that cares enough about me to go to so much trouble. Now that's a gift!

Noma Edwards, a consultant and nursery/landscape worker, lives in Fall City. (This is her "Noma" doll.)

Essay appears Sundays in Scene, aimed, as all of Scene is, at the styles and vagaries of everyday life.