A Stouthearted Stone

Charles Stone, Jr. was born May 6, 1757 in Stockbridge, MA.  He served as waggoner in the Revolutionary War carrying supplies to the Army.  In 1782 he married Polly Springs (1764-1838) and sometime after his marriage he went into the Mohawk Valley to establish a home.  Because of his wife's ill health at the time, he left that region and in 1791 moved his family to Broome Co., New York.  He settled on the bank of the Chenango River about 5 miles north of Binghamton.  Part of this time and until around 1800 he carried the mail on horseback through the woods from Owego to Catskill and related experiences with man and beast on these journeys.  His daughter Lura rode horseback to Catskill to attend school about a 50 mile round trip.

Leaving this location that was clear of debt he moved west. But "in an evil hour" trying to do a good deed for a reported reliable friend, he signed a security bond for $5,000.  The friend did not turn out to be so reliable and Charles was required to pay out this amount.  He was just recovering from this when not long after this as he was deciding where to build a mill, he was persuaded to purchase a certain site.  On this site there was not water sufficient to run a mill and this event left him absolutely penniless. It was said that his wife, Polly, had more practical wisdom and opposed many of his unfortunate undertakings.

Later, Charles and Polly were forced to live with their children.  At one time living with daughter Harriet and her daughter in Port Crane among the wild basket makers of that region.  It is reported that he was so lame with sciatica that he had been seen hoeing corn on his knees, being too lame to bend over.  His remarkable conscientiousness was noted by the fact that in spite of these infirmities he picked huckleberries to pay a second time a note for a yoke of cattle, rather than run the risk of making the mistake by swearing he had paid for them.

In the spring of 1837, after selling his personal effects at auction, Charles now in his 80s was so crippled he could barely walk with two canes. With his wife, daughter Harriet and Granddaughter Frances he traveled on a raft down the river, took the canal as far as they could, over the mountains by emigrant wagons and then by steamboat to Cincinnati, Ohio to live with Charles' brother Ethan.

Polly Springs Stone died there in the fall of 1838.  Charles died in the summer of 1848.  I have nine children listed for Charles and Polly, however, I believe the last child Aaron, to be either a grandson or nephew they had taken in to live with them.  The birthdate for Aaron is 18 years after the 8th child on the family tree.  Clarification of this mystery still eludes me.

A paper found among family histories and photos recounts the above story.  It was dated 1909 but no author is listed.  This account was also found reprinted in the bicentennial publication by The Chenango Bridge Civic Association in 1976, titled, Chenango Bridge, Our Heritage.

Great Grandparents

We did not have a chance to meet Grandpa Stone's parents.  We have only this picture of Aaron Stone and except for genealogy facts and dates we have no anecdotal information about him.  Aaron was born in1818 and died in 1898.  He grew up on the homestead that had been in the family for generations.  The census records have  always listed Aaron as a farmer. Grandpa and his father had a strained relationship when Grandpa moved to Nebraska.  As far as we know Grandpa never returned to New York and only Aaron's siblings visited him.                                                       

We had this picture, a nickle silver spoon engraved 'Jane Temple' and a letter written to Grandpa in 1888. Researching this summer I have found a bit more factual  information.  Jane Gray Temple was born in 1822 in Chenango, New York and died in October 1890.  Jane was one of 10 children born to James Temple and Manda Alenda Sherwin.  Her mother was born in New Jersey and her father in Connecticut.  The genealogy of her family reaches back into England even farther than the Stone family.                                                                 

                                                                      

  Aaron and Jane were married 3 November 1844 and produced 6 children.                                                                      

More information and facts about the Stones and Temples keep popping up so perhaps there will be more stories to come.                                                                                         

                             

This day in history --

When I read the morning newspaper I'm always happy when I find something that connects with me or the family. Today is the anniversary of the Chicago Fire in 1871.  I remembered a story I had read about a member of the Story family with ties to the Chicago Fire.

Wilbur Fisk Story, a cousin of Bob's great grandfather, was born in Salisbury, VT, attended local schools and worked many years in Vermont, New York City and Indiana.  He went to Jackson, MI, and after being proprietor of a drug store, established a newspaper and read law for two years.  He was appointed postmaster by President Polk and was removed from office by President Tyler.

His newspaper career continued when in 1853 he bought an interest in The Detroit Free Press and eventually became the sole owner.  Under his leadership the Free Press came to be regarded as one of the leading democratic newspapers in the west.  In 1861 he purchased from Cyrus H. McCormick, the The Daily Chicago Times bringing with him a large part of his staff.  He changed the title to Chicago Times and continued the paper with a democratic voice.  His paper was  unpopular because of his support of the Civil War.  Because of his views on the Civil War his plant was raided and partially destroyed.  However, popular sentiments prevailed and the paper reopened.  After the Civil War, Story using the motto "to print the news and raise Hell," turned the Times into an outspoken, eccentric and critic of Chicago Society.

The Chicago fire of 1871 destroyed his plant but Wilbur rebuilt the building and continued to publish.  Wilbur edited the Times until 1884 when failing health intervened.  He died Oct. 27, 1884.

The Chicago Times, after a few merges and name changes was eventually bought by a Melville Stone, but Melville Stone apparently is not a link to the Stone side of the family.

Family trivia is fun to find.

Thanks to baseball -

This is the 50th anniversary picture of Grandma and Grandpa Stone in 1935. I remember their little house in Humansville and it seems like I remember walking to the post office with Grandpa one day. I remember the sounds of the turtle doves,the constant sound of a near by ice plant and Grandma's pancakes for breakfast.


This picture of the house was taken a few years ago. The house has been repainted but looks just the same as I remember it.  There was a smoke house by the back door and a small barn for Grandma's goats. Grandpa as I recall, was very soft spoken, sang or whistled, and always made sure his mustache tickled when he kissed me. I recall his gnarled fingers from catching baseballs. He loved baseball and always had his ear pressed against the speakers of the radio to hear each play. The story is told that as a young man he played baseball whenever he had a chance. He farmed with his father so probably only had time to play ball on Sundays. This was not acceptable for his father who told him he could not play on Sundays. When Grandpa continued to play he was told either stop playing on Sundays or leave. Grandpa did just that and started west homesteading in Furness Co., Nebraska. I don't remember hearing that he ever returned to New York but some of his siblings did visit in Missouri.

In Nebraska he met the Larson family, who had homesteaded in Nebraska a few years earlier, and married their daughter Adla, July 3, 1885. They had seven children, all born in Nebraska before moving to Missouri sometime after 1908. I've heard that Grandpa heard about Missouri having more trees and decided that was a better place for farming.

Grandpa was born in Binghamton, New York to Aaron and Jane Temple Stone. He grew up in a house on land that had been in the family for several generations. A log house was originally on the property but was used as a barn on the property when this house was built. Grandpa had six siblings and this is a reunion picture with five,(from l to r) Leonard, Hugh, Genie (Eugenia), Jeddi (Geraldine) and Fred. There was a running joke in our family that if we mis-behaved or didn't mind our manners, "We'll never be able to take you to New York."




My memories of Grandma are of her always with ankle length dresses and usually with a cap on her head. This is a picture of them with five of their children in the early 1940s. Two of their children were left buried in Lynden Cemetery in Hendley, NE. Edith dying as a small child and Fred at the age of sixteen.


Grandma liked animals.  When living in Humansville, she had besides the goats, a little dog named Andy.  Grandma was never very well, as I remember, but she did lots of sewing, making garments by hand with beautiful buttonholes. In their last few years they lived just a few houses from us. Grandma always mended the many rips needed for us plus darning the knees of stockings I constantly ruined. I remember Grandma and Grandpa sitting on the front porch as I walked home from school.

We miss them all!

More family and more soldiers

Yesterday I wrote about finding Great, great, great grandfather Samuel James Martin. He was married to Susannah Francis, (1799-1870). Her father was a Malachi Francis, (1764-1831), from Halifax, VA. Malachi, married to Mary Fisher, is one more family member, I've found who fought in the Revolutionary war. Malachi entered the service as a private, but was promoted to other grades before he left the service. Some records indicate he was at the Battle of Brandywine, Sept 11, 1777, at the Battle of Guilford Court House in North Carolina near the Dan River and at the surrender of Corwallis, Oct 19, 1781. One record said Malakai Francis kept a diary of the Revolutionary War and parts of it were in the Military Records of Virginia. I'll keep searching.

Malachi's father was Micajah who was born in 1728 in Henry Co., VA and died in 1775 in Halifax Co, VA. He was married to Annabelle Keronhappock and they had four sons, Malachai, Vincent, John, Nathaniel and an adopted son Lucius.

It is a listing of the estate settlement for Micajah that I found interesting. His estate dated 20 April, 1775 in Hallifax, VA lists: (all spellings are as listed on the settlement)

12 head hogs
1/2 dozen pewter spoons
1 bed and furniture
2 chests and 2 spinning wheels
1 p cotton cards
1/2 dozen knives and forks
1 fidle
1 smooth bord gun
1 bottle jug and 1 qt. bottle
1 parcel of corn
1 loom
1 man's saddle and bridle and two bells.

Micajah would be the Great, great, great Grandfather of Uncle Mack. Perhaps that is where he learned to play the "fidle".

"Listen my children, and you shall hear--"

Most of us have had to read or even memorized Paul Revere's Ride by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow and we all learned about the Revolutionary War in school. Finding a connection between history and family is always fun and makes those lessons from school more meaningful.

1775 - The Lexington Alarm, the first battle of the Revolutionary War, was fought in Massachusetts on April 19, 1775. British troops had moved from Boston toward Lexington and Concord to seize the colonists' military supplies and arrest revolutionaries. But British troops met resistance from the Minutemen and American volunteers who harassed the retreating British troops along the Concord-Lexington road. Paul Revere, on his famous ride, had first alerted the Americans to the British movement.

Locating information about Jane Grey Temple, Grandpa Stone's mother, I found this:

Jane's father was James Temple, (1789-1861) his father was Stephen Temple, Jr., born 1764 in New Hampshire and died in Adams, MA in 1854. He was married to Susannah Wood. Stephen enlisted in The Revolutionary War April 21, 1777 at Camp West Point and was still listed on the muster rolls in 1781.

His father, Stephen, Sr., was born 1731 in Worcester, MA and died in 1809. He married Sarah Bates and they had 14 children. Stephen was probably a grantee of land from Plymouth, VT in 1761, lived in Winchester, NH from 1764-1772 and moved to Northbridge, MA before 1775.

In April 1775 he joined The Lexington Alarm and was listed as a private. Sept. 26, 1775 he was listed as a sergeant and a corporal in March of 1777. In June 1776 he received compensation for his losses sustained at Lexington and Bunker Hill. I found no listing of those losses. Stephen was again listed in service in 1780 and belonged to Westford, MA.

---"You know the rest. In the books you have read
How the British Regulars fired and fled,-
How the farmers gave them ball for ball,
From behind each fence and farmyard wall,
Chasing the redcoats down the lane,
They crossing the fields to engage again
Under the trees at the turn of the road,
And only pausing to fire and load."------

Uncle Mack Martin

Yes, this is Uncle Mack Martin. Sometime ago I wrote "Who is Uncle Mack", wondering the connection in the family. This is the second of the two pictures found on which, 'Uncle Mack Martin' was written. Recent searching has located more history of the Martin's and added another "Great" to the family tree.

Grandpa Martin's father was Joseph Merida Martin; Joseph's father was James Martin; and recently have found that James' father was Samuel James Martin (1795-1850).

Samuel James Martin was married to Susannah Francis (1799-1870) and together they had nine children. Among them were James Martin, (1824-1886) and Malachai Francis Martin (1827--) Malachai was born in Barron Co., Kentucy, married Elizabeth Bradshaw and they had 6 children. I don't have a death date for Malachai but he was living with his son, Samuel, in the 1910 census for Green, Hickory Co, MO and was listed as a widower at 83 years of age.

I keep hunting and the results are fun. More stories keep coming so stay tuned!

Maja Greta

This wonderful picture is of our Mom and her Grandmother Marie Larson. Maja Greta is the way it is spelled on the certificate signed at the time of leaving Sweden. Great Grandmother Larson came from Sweden in 1871 with her husband Magnus and three children ages, five, nine and eleven. Another son, Albert Frank was born in Illinois, in 1875. Marie was born March 11, 1830 and died Sept 9, 1923. According to stories heard as a child, Marie was blind when this picture was taken. She could see the difference between light and dark and loved the outside with the sunshine on her face because it was so light. We have no knowledge of what caused the blindness. It occurred later in life as the story is told of her sitting with books she brought from Sweden on her lap and "reading" them from memory. I wish I could remember the songs and rhymes repeated by Mom and her siblings that were heard from Marie, some in Swedish. I remember one story that Great Grandmother Marie only wanted either jam or butter on her bread as having both was "doobles"

I hope someday to locate the name of the ship that brought Marie, Magnus, Grandma Adla, age 5, Lars Johann, age 11 and Emma Kristina age 9, to America. I'd like to know where, for sure they lived in Sweden, where they landed, how they traveled west and perhaps traveled with whom. I have a piece of paper handwritten, that appears to read "Skara, Sweden" but have not been able to locate such a place. However there is a Spara, Sweden which might be the place. What a long arduous journey that must have been as Marie was no doubt pregnant on part of the journey and moving with a baby in a covered wagon doesn't sound easy.. Magnus received his naturalization papers from Morgan Co., Illinois in October 1878 but there is no record of Marie having such papers. Nor is there a record of Grandma Adla being a naturalized citizen. At that time it didn't seem to matter as women couldn't vote or need a social security card. We know they traveled by covered wagon from Illinois in 1879 settling in Hendley, Furnas Co., NE. Magnus was listed as a farmer in the census of NE. Did he work at farming in Illinois when they lived there and was that his occupation in Sweden? Though Magnus died in Illinois in 1908, they both are buried in Riverview Cemetery in Hendley. I have many questions of whether relatives traveled with them from Sweden. why was Magnus in Illinois in 1908 and more.

Mom always spoke very highly of Great Grandmother Maja Greta. As I'm remembering Grandma Adla's soft and caring ways I can only imagine that these traits came from Marie as well.

Nine years ago.

I think we all remember where we were and what we were doing on that September 11 when terrorists dealt that devastating blow on the United States. We were working in Yellowstone during the summers at that time. This meant very limited TV within the park but there was a small TV in our employee lounge. Someone not on duty happened to see the first attack and the word soon spread. Anytime anyone had an extra few minutes we gathered to see those planes hit the Twin Towers and the chaos that ensued. Tourists did not have TV in the cabin area so had to rely on our news reports. Everyone was stunned beyond belief.

It was a very disturbing day but there always is a crowd in September in Yellowstone and the day and our duties to accommodate them continued.

About dusk we set up an impromptu candle light service for anyone who wished to participate, employees and visitors as well. We gathered out in front of the store and handed out candles. We were amazed that such a large group gathered. The candles were lit without a single word from any one. Each person, I'm sure, had their own thoughts and prayers so no comments needed to be said. I don't remember how long this lasted but before long someone in the crowd began singing softly, Amazing Grace. The assembled group soon began singing along and this was followed by a couple of other well know hymns ending with God Bless America. The light of the candles cast a bright glow as it was getting dark outside but I think we all felt lighter inside. It was a very moving experience.

Happy Fathers's Day, Dad

About 1928 as a young man was on his milk delivery route one morning he stopped to offer a ride to a student walking to a rural school. They drove on towards the school and the student suggested they stop to offer a ride to a young lady also walking to school. This young lady was the teacher. A wonderful suggestion!

Dad was driving a milk delivery truck, living in Missouri to finish school, as his parents moved to Arizona. Mom and Dad were married January 1, 1933. They lived always in Missouri and raised four children.

Dad started work with the Frisco Railway in 1935. We lived in town for several years before buying a small acreage outside of town. While working full time for the railway he managed to keep up the "farm" with it's cow, horse, chickens and rabbits and huge garden. Most of the time he worked either late afternoon or night shifts so he could have some daylight time for work around the place. He was a hard worker and a good provider.

I don't remember very much punishment for wrong doings but his stern look and a couple of words kept me, at least, in line. The worst punishment I ever remember was having to sit on a chair for a certain length of time! I remember lots of fun, baby chickens, rabbits, kittens and a little black and white terrier, Happy. Despite having to be quiet while Dad slept because of the night shifts of work, we had a great time and had lots of space to roam and play. The huge garden provided us with not only delicious food year round but Mom's beautiful flowers.

Dad we knew could fix anything that needed fixing from a doll buggy to an automobile. He was always 'puttering' with something and kept the place running smoothly. On the farm and after we moved into town he had to be busy. Dad was a member of the school board of the one room school we attended. When the rural schools were closed by the county we moved into town to be nearer schools and college. The big two story house in town was always a gathering place, especially for holidays, with our expanding families.

Health problems followed too soon and required his retirement from the Frisco but he was never without something to do. To keep busy he opened a saw and knife sharpening shop for several years. He and Mom were very active in church activities and volunteering. Dad did some woodworking, took care of any repairs around the house and always was whistling. His whistle started out with one song, usually a hymn that merged from one into a next, all while he was working on one project or another.

Dad loved his children and grandchildren and would have had such fun with the additional grandchildren and great grandchildren. He always was and still would have been so proud of all his family.

Dad, we all love you and miss you very much.

To Remember--

--and thank!

From the earliest conflict with indigenous people, the Pequot War of 1637, to the War in Iraq our family members have shown their patriotism by doing their part for us and our country. So many members have served whether over the seas or here at home. One uncle enlisted in the army in 1933 and was discharged after losing a foot from a land mine in Korea. Many served in the Revolutionary War, the Civil War, both WWI and WWII, and the conflicts that have followed. For the time spent in danger or during quiet times helping to secure the country, we thank each for their commitment to the country and for the time spent away from families and loved ones.

Thank You to all veterans and all members of the armed service as we remember and honor you today.

Decoration Day

Decoration Day, as we used to call Memorial Day, was a day for taking care of cemeteries, cleaning grave sites and adding flowers in remembrance. I remember as a youngster visiting cemeteries where grandparents and others were buried, taking flowers to put on the graves even knowing they wouldn't last long in the hot sun. We always walked around as our parents visited with friends and relatives remembering the names on the markers, "I remember----, she/he, lived -- did--married--". Why didn't I pay more attention - but now need to search for such information. Afterwards we would always gather around Aunt Nellie's table loaded with such a feast and an afternoon of fun, pictures, and 'remember whens'.

Mom would always tell us when, as a child, there would be a 'program' in the little church and then all the children would parade around the cemetery putting a flower on each of the graves. She also told us how she would help her mother pick wild flowers, usually daisies, from the fields, wrap them in wet newspapers and ship them to Nebraska to the cemetery where Grandma's parents and two of her children were buried.

So many memories and so many people to remember!

Agnes

I love all the old family photos I have found. It has been such fun to get to know these people through research in genealogy. This is my Great, Great Grandmother, Sarah Agnes (Payne)Huckaby. She was born January 20, 1820 in Barron Co., Ky, the daughter of Jubal and Rhonda (Basham) Payne. She was known in many old documents as Agnes.

Sarah Agnes was the second wife of Joseph Huckaby. Joseph was born to Thomas and Nancy C. (Chaffin) Huckaby on October 18, 1789 in Bedford, VA. (Thomas Huckaby had served four years in the Revolutionary War.) Joseph moved with his parents to Barron Co., KY and later served with his brother Nathan in the War of 1812. They served as privates in Thomas Griffins Co., Kentucky Militia under Col. Samuel Parker's 14th regiment. This regiment took part in the Battle of New Orleans on Sunday, Jan 8, 1815. ("...and the British kept a coming.")

Joseph married Mary Polly Bridges on 31 Jan. 1818 in Allen Co., KY. She was born in 1797. Together they had 8 children but Mary died in 1838 in Barron Co. Ky. On June 23, 1841 Joseph married Sarah Agnes Payne. She and Joseph added 15 more children to the family. In the 1850 Census there were two other children listed as living with Joseph and Agnes. Perhaps they were her children from a previous marriage.

Joseph moved his family from Kentucky to Missouri in 1857 where six of their children were born. Joseph died January 1, 1871.

In 1880 with the help of a son, Agnes applied for his War of 1812 pension. She signed the application with "X, her mark" On the 1880 Federal Census she was living with four of her children. At the time of her death in Missouri Aug 7, 1911 a check for $36. was sent by the government to her son for burial expenses. Joseph and Agnes are both buried in Hopewell Cemetery.

Keeping in Touch

This very fragile and faded letter was written to my Grandfather Hugh Stone by his mother, Jane, in 1888. It tells how much she missed him and offered help for his baby's painful teething. He had left New York state to homestead in Nebraska where, a few years later, he met and married Grandma Adla. It is exciting that this letter has survived the years and many family moves. I have no idea how long this letter might have taken to travel those miles but I hope by the time it arrived in Nebraska the baby's teething problems were resolved. She tells him that he should take a very sharp instrument and cut the baby's gum so the tooth can emerge!

It was a joy when I married into a large, close-knit family. As family members began to migrate across the country, it became evident that keeping in touch with everyone was more and more difficult.

We started a round-robin letter to share events in our lives. This "robin" traveled from California to New York and from Texas to Montana with many stops along the way. It was a delight when that fat letter arrived in the mail and it was immediately read. Sometimes we wondered if our seemingly bland life would be interesting to others but faithfully wrote our contribution, took out our last letter, and mailed it to the next person on the list. Many times pictures were included. It usually took about a month to six weeks to make the rounds and was always welcomed. The letter was lost a couple of times but always restarted. This way of "keeping in touch" lasted for 35 years!

What fun it would be now if all those letters had been saved. What a great family story that would tell!

A Family's Best Friend

Not just man's best friend, but a family's best friend. Queenie was a joy to the Anderson family and a constant companion to the little ones. During the depression of the 1930s any help to feed a family was greatly needed, especially with a family of 9 children. A huge garden was always planted for the family use with many radishes, onions, etc., also sold to town folk. Queenie was more than just a family pet she was a scavenger. One story about Queenie tells of her penchant for bringing home things other people left on their porches. Occasionally she would bring home a dish of food left to cool and it was then necessary to try to locate the owner of the dish. One time Queenie came home with an entire pound of butter. The wrapper was barely dented with teeth marks!

Who is Uncle Mack?

In the bottom of my Grandfather's trunk was a collection of pictures, mostly without names or dates. It has been fun to try to locate and identify the people in these photos. Two of my favorites were without dates but with hand written notes, "Uncle Mack Martin".

I don't remember hearing the name Uncle Mack so began to try to find out what I could about this stylish gentleman. He has his bow in hand and looks like he's ready for the next barn raising or a country dance.

The early Martin family came from Barron County, KY. to Missouri in 1860. My grandfather's grandfather, James Martin was born in June 22, 1824 and with his wife Martha raised 7 children, the first three born in Kentucky and four additional children born in Missouri. One of the four born in Missouri was Joseph M. Martin, born in 1859, the father of Albert, my grandfather.

From the 1850 Schedule of Free Inhabitants in the Division in the County of Barron, State of Kentucky lists James Martin and his family. Living nearby with the family of a blacksmith was a Malakiah Martin, perhaps an apprentice. The notation for occupation after his name lists "N2Smith." I didn't find a Malakiah again for several years of census.

According to the census of 1910 of Hickory Co. Missouri, living near the Joseph Martin property in Missouri was Samuel Martin and his family. Samuel was Joseph's older brother, born in 1852 in Kentucky. According to the census of 1910, a Meliciah F. Martin was listed as age 81, estimated birth year of 1828, living with Samuel and was listed as an uncle to Samuel.

I am assuming that "Uncle Mack" was a brother to James and I believe Mack was a nickname for Malakiah. Census takers not always got names spelled correctly nor dates recorded correctly. Therefore either "Malakiah, or Meliciah" could be correct or neither could be correct.

This Uncle Mack had similar facial features to Grandpa. So I'll call him Uncle Mack, too.

Up so high

One spring story hour session with a kindergarten class sitting on the floor before me brought a much more memorable story than the one in the book on my lap. It was such a beautiful little story I remember often and especially if I'm up in an airplane with beautiful white, puffy clouds all around.

I don't remember the book selected for the day. We began by talking about what those wiggly little ones liked to do, when they could play outside, after a Missouri winter had begun to warm.The usual responses of playing ball, chasing the dog and picking flowers were on the list. After several such "likes" one little guy, sitting right in front, said, "I like to fly my kite." Since he had everyone's attention he added, "And one day -- it took me right up into the sky with it!"

"Oh, what did you see when you were flying up so high?" I asked.

"Oh-" he said trying to come up with a good answer. " I saw God and Jesus and all those guys!"

There was a very brief pause but before anyone could say another word, a little voice came from the back of the group, "Did you see my Uncle Frank?"

It's amazing how little minds work, what they perceive of what they hear from us and what they can tell us .

February 6, 2008

On February 6, 2008 my world stood still and it still is revolving very slowly. It was like I had been handed a manual in a foreign language or my right arm had been amputated. I felt so lost at the prospects of continuing life without my hand holder and my very best friend. We had been told and were aware this moment would arrive but kept thinking and hoping it could be delayed a bit longer.

My best friend loved his family more than anything else. He read constantly, loved fishing and the great outdoors and playing pool with friends. He also loved music, history and often imparted that knowledge to others. He loved to tease and always had a joke, quip and a nickname for everyone. His heart was generous and very tender toward others, always with a helping hand when needed. He burst into song frequently and always had a smile. His friends were many.

He did love life and this quote fits him, I sorry I can't give credit to an author : "Life is not a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in a pretty and well-preserved body, but rather to skid in broadside, thoroughly used-up, totally worn-out, and loudly proclaiming, 'Wow! What a ride!'

It's been a year but the pain is still very sharp. I have had such wonderful support from family and friends and appreciate that so very much. My world will continue and I hope to live it as he would expect me to. I know that family and friends miss him very much as well and with their great support and so many wonderful memories we will try.

Country Living

When Dad moved us to the "country" in 1945 we had 7 acres on which to roam. The place now is well inside the city limits but at that time we felt it was country. There was a large pasture, large garden spot, a barn, chicken house and a place for rabbit hutches.

Dad worked full time for the Frisco Railway and usually worked shifts from 3:00 p.m. to 11:00, or midnight until 7:00 a.m. but with the help of my mother and brother managed to keep the "farm" going. We had rabbits, chickens, once bantam chickens and a couple of ducks, Silly and Dilly. Blaze, the horse was a bit skittish and not much for riding even though my brothers tried. My brother always had FFA beef projects in high school and we had a couple of cows for household use.

The house was a three bedroom, fieldstone house with a front porch across the north side. A large maple tree was in front, a line of noisy silver maples along one side and elm trees in the back yard. Mom had lots of flowers, perennials, annuals and many climbing roses on the sides of the house. My favorite was the little yellow rose outside my bedroom window. Dad and my brother built a garage and workshop in back of the house. The workshop is still standing although the house has been replaced with an office building. We lived near enough to the Federal Prison to hear the siren sound when a prisoner had escaped. We used to stand on the wall of the front porch hoping to catch sight of a man in stripped coveralls running through the fields. One night seven prisoners escaped and the authorities were still searching the area when Dad left for work at midnight. When he got to the main road he was told that our area was where they expected to find them. He came home and stayed with us that night.

We had an 8 person party line phone so had to listen for the number and length of rings to know if the call was for us. Our ring was two longs and two shorts. While on the phone we frequently heard clicks as other persons on the line picked up the phone. If someone else wanted to use the phone while we were on it there would be a series of quick clicks. One didn't dare disclose many secrets on that system.

We had a great neighbor, Mr. Krug, who grew lots of sweet potatoes each year. In the fall he would bring them to our house by wheelbarrow to store in our basement until they were sold. He spoke very broken English and always had a plug of chewing tobacco in his cheek.
Mrs. Krug always had a cookie jar of sugar cookies.

Mom's days on the farm were busy and she worked very hard. Dad always plowed a very large garden and Mom canned or froze as much of the produce as possible. I remember one summer Mom had a broken leg but managed to take care of the garden and do all the gathering and canning of the vegetables dragging that heavy cast along. We always had a basement full of canned fruits and vegetables for winter. We had a strawberry patch, rhubarb and asperagus, and she used to buy bushels of peaches for canning. She made jams, jellies and even sourkraut. (I tried making it one year and it was a disaster!) I remember she used to make delicious cottage cheese, too with a far better flavor than the cartons in the store today. We always had "fryers" to eat and enough to freeze for later. She was an excellent cook and any family reunion or holiday saw the entire extended family around our dinner table.

With the shifts Dad worked, he had to sleep mostly during the day. We were reminded frequently that we should be quiet because Dad was asleep. It also meant that I didn't have to practice my piano lessons until after dinner in the evening, getting out of washing the dishes. Dad's working hours seems to have an impression my younger brother as he sang the Christmas Carol, "It Came Upon the Midnight Shift."

We had a little black and white terrier, Happy, and usually plenty of cats. It was always upsetting to me to find a litter of new kittens in the barn one day and the next morning to find a neighboring tom cat had killed the kittens. One trio of kittens who survived were named Surely, Goodness and Mercy by little sister.

The best event that happened while living there was the arrival of a baby sister. She was and still is such a joy to me. We moved when she was ready to begin first grade. The one room school had closed by that time and she would have had a long bus ride to town.

It was a great place to grow up.

School Days

I recently found this picture of my Grandfather's first school. I was surprised that there were so many students in that small area of rural Missouri in the late 1890s. This was a bit different from the one room school I attended in the 1940s.

I began school in a two story, brick box of a city school with a large metal fire escape from the second floor. I loved school and my teacher, but didn't like to walk past the big, black chow on the way to school. He only seemed to bark at me when I walked by myself. We moved to an acreage south of town in 1945, April 15, 1945 to be exact. I remember we turned on a radio after getting moved in and heard that President Franklin Delano Roosevelt had died that day. My two brothers and I were enrolled in the one room school the next day.

The school was three quarters of a mile from the house and we walked or later rode bicycles to school. In winter we were instructed not to play in the snow on the way to school but could on the way home as we could change into dry clothes.

This was a white, clapboard school for grades one through eight. The school was situated on a large piece of land with a yard full of large oak trees. The school house is long gone and a Wal-Mart shopping center is on the property but some of the oak trees have been retained. One of the last one room school in the county, this served as a community meeting house for 4-H clubs and a non-denominational Sunday school. The property was large enough for group games of kick ball, Red Rover, Ducks and Geese, plus swings and a teeter-totter. There was an outhouse in each corner of the property behind the school.



The day we arrived, there were a couple of horses tied to the fence on the north side of the school. One of the boys in that family was in 8th grade and was needed on the family farm as soon as school was out. It was an unusually cold day for April, in Missouri, the day we arrived as the students were sitting in their coats around the big "pot-bellied" stove. Inside the front door were two small rooms on either side of the door for coats, lunch boxes and supplies. All the desks were fastened together in single rows ranging from the smallest to adult size with our backs to the south windows. There were no windows on the north side of the building. The teacher, Mrs. H. was seated in the center at the front of the room. Since she was near the stove, the temperature of the room depended on her comfort.There were few students in each class and we all got the benefits of the lessons from the other classes. My class consisted of four girls. Much of the school work was done on the chalkboard. Since we had done very little of this type of participation in the city school, we received some chuckles from the other students as we attempted this exercise.

Mrs. H was afraid of storms, snakes and the dark of night and taught us to be also. My brother was assigned the job of checking out the outhouses before each recess to be sure there were no snakes hiding there. We did see an occasional copperhead in the oak leaves of the playground or around the outhouses. One spring a storm was threatening and Mrs. H decided she needed to get home before the storm so sent all of us home, walking of course. Our parents and baby sister had gone to the grandparents for the day and were a bit upset to find us there sitting around the table playing board games. We did have a large basement but only one time did I remember the family going down there during a storm.

Once my younger brother got into trouble with Mrs. H. I never did know the problem but she sent my older brother out to get a switch. The switch was never used but little brother was assured that evening that it would have broken had she hit him with it.

After these and other similar incidents it was decided Mrs. H should retire. We had two other more creative and caring teachers during my time there.

We had reading, writing, arithmetic, geography, art classes with crafts and some identification of famous paintings, memorization of poems and to teach to the test, I guess, we had to learn to identify the breeds of sheep, cows and pigs. I still have the copy of the 8th grade exam and, sure enough,we had to name them!

We always had Christmas and end of the year programs with poems, skits, etc., I remember how embarrassed I was when the four girls in my class had to jump rope to the tune of "Whispering". We had paper flowers tied all along the jump rope.

We spent a Saturday at the end of the 8th grade to take the exam and the end of the year program provided us with a graduation exercise. One mother made each of us taffeta dresses, all different pastel colors, with a long waist, huge sash and bow! Mine was yellow.

After 8th grade we had to ride the school bus to town for junior and senior high school. One morning the bus got stuck in a snow drift and we didn't make it to school until almost noon. We were the the first to get on the bus each morning at 7:00 a.m. and the last in the afternoon getting home about 4:30.

The curriculum in this one room school was sufficient for us to compete academically in the city schools but socially I had a difficult time adjusting. I'm glad, however, that I had this one room, basic, education.