Aunt Beck

 That was her name.  Just Aunt Beck.  If you walked past my house at 709 Strong Street and turned right at the dead end, went across the highway that ran to Sterling and followed the driveway up to a little white house, you would end up at Aunt Beck's house.  I do not remember her at all, other than she was a short woman with her hair in a bun.  Course all women looked alike to me in my memory.  Occasionally momma would make something and dispatch me to "Take this to Aunt Beck and come straight back.  Don't bother her."  

And that was what I would do.  Aunt Beck would open the door, take whatever I had, thank me and close the door.  It was not until many years later that I actually knew who Aunt Beck was and what her function was in the Haas Family migration to Kansas.  I knew I had a cousin named Ronnie Beck who lived in town and was in the same grade I was in while attending Nickerson Grade School.  A side note here is that he had very red cheeks.  Now those of you who know me know that I also have very red cheeks at times.  That makes me think that it is a Haas family trait.

Years later I was to learn that when a member of the Haas Family in Germany migrated to the United States that Aunt Beck was the contact person in Kansas.  The members the the Haas family would get in touch with Aunt Beck and she would put them in touch with whoever they needed to contact here in Kansas.  Mostly my ancestors settled around the Hunstville and Abbyville area.  But back to Aunt Beck.

Sometimes I would walk from my house to the highway to Sterling and go up to Cow Creek and wade around looking for seashells.  Oddly enough I found a lot of them.  Jake and I used to fish Cow Creek and he and his friends would go down a dirt road to a swimming hole.  I never swam and I knew they were down there naked (or so I assumed.) and I wanted no part of that!

Now a note here about the creeks and rivers in Nickerson.  It is bounded on one side by the Arkansas River, another by the Cow Creek and another by the Bull Creek.  Normally, the only one that carries any significant flow of water was the Arkansas River.  But in the Springtime when the snow melted in the mountains of Colorado, the runoff flooded the rivers and Nickerson became isolated.  At least I think it was what happened.  I know when I used to travel to Hutchinson in the Spring, I had to go 50 Highway because all the little creeks long 96 highway would be over the road.  Now what any of this has to do with with Aunt Beck is beyond me!  Back to the subject.

Now, I could bore you with stories of my lineage, but I will not.  The gist of this is mostly to satisfy my own curiosity.  There was a time, I would ask one of the grandma's or mother, but not anymore.  I have lost track of all the cousins and of course, all the aunts and uncles have long since passed to their reward, so I have to rely on genealogy and I am pretty lazy when it comes to looking thing up.

So, having consulted my book that has all the answers, apparently Aunt Beck was my great grandfathers first wife.  Or, she could have been a sister to his first wife.  Sure do not know who to ask at this point!  But anyway that is all water under the bridge and I could say about anything and there is no one around to dispute my memory.  That is the best part of being old!

So anyway, it snowed last night.  According to the old way of thinking, we have 7 more snows until we are done for the year.  Guess we will see.  

You all have a good day today and I wish you Peace and Prosperity for the coming year!

And remember, you cannot sprinkle showers of happiness on someone else without getting a few drops on yourself!

Life in Plevna, Kansas

 It must have been about 1955 when I went to live with my grandma'a in Plevna, Kansas.  It was also the year I started high school.   Now there were only about 40 kids in the whole high school.  High School was on the second floor and grade school on the first.  But all that is irrelevant.  

What matters is that it was in this place I began my high school education.  Now, as luck would have it, the lady who lived right next door to the grandma's was the daughter of the man who lived next door to my home in Nickerson!  They also had an old car that ran pretty good and traveled back home to Nickerson a couple of times a month.  Mother made arrangements for me to ride with them when they did go to see her and father.

Now it becomes a little fuzzy in my mind, but I think the lady was named Elsie and I think she was blind.  I do not think they had any children.  All that is irrelevant in the grand scheme of things. So once a month, I think, we would pile into the car and settle in for the 20-mile drive.  The man would fit the crank in the front of the car, wherever he fitted it, and give it a hard pull.  The engine would roar to life and he would jump into the car and as soon as the engine was running smoothly, he would retrieve the crank, close the hood, and prepare to drive the car.  It was when we traversed the road to highway 50 that the fun began!

He liked to sing!  I strongly suspect that he may have also liked to drink a bit!  Of that I am not sure!  But he did like to sing.  One of the songs went like this:

" Oh, I won't go hunting with you, Jake, but I'll go chasing women!

So put them hounds back in the pen and quit your silly grinning!

The moon is right and I'm half tight, life is just beginning!

I won't go fishing with you Jake, but I'll go chasing women."

His wife would try to hush him because there "was a child in the car," but he just sang all the louder.  He seemed to know lots of songs. but that is the one that sticks in my mind.

Sundays at our house were always special because we usually had meat of some sort.  Special was when we had a roast.  That did not happen very often, but there was always hope!

At 4:00 we would hear the car roar to life next door and momma would make sure my face was clean.  Then the horn would beep (ooga, ooga) and I would run out to the street.  The man would open the door, I would jump in, and he would close the door.  Then began the 20 mile one hour drive back to Plevna.  

I wish I could remember his name, but I don't.  Life was so simple back then!  Needs were few.  Pleasure could be found in walking barefoot in the hot sand road of Strong Street or running the back road to the sandpit.  Kick the can was the game of the night and the moon was the only light we had after the sun went down.

Go to sleep, all my childhood memories!  I sometimes long for the day when I can run out the door, jump in an old jalopy and go see my momma.

Peace!

Momma never really left me.

 Momma is still with me.  I see her arm and hand coming out of my sleeve.  I see her eyes watching me in the mirror.  I even hear her voice in my head when I am faced with one of my dilemmas. (She would be proud that I spelled dilemmas correctly on the first pass!)  My mother was very smart.  She was also very pretty.  When I went to live with the grandma's at the start of my freshman year, I was enrolled in Plevna High School.  Mother enrolled me and at that time girl's were automatically enrolled in Home Economics.  There were no such thing as electives, it just was what it was.

To get to the crux of the matter and set the background for this post, the Home Economics teacher was a lady named Ms. Crawford.  Ms. Crawford had gone to school with Christine Haas, who just happened to be my mother, Christine Haas, at the time.  Now my mother was not only very smart, she was also beautiful.  She had the prettiest hazel eyes, trim figure and flawless skin that was to die for.  I inherited my skin clarity and tone from her.  All through puberty when the other kids were battling acne,  my skin remained smooth as silk.  To this day I do not recall ever having one of those things called a pimple.  I was very lucky.

Back to the topic of Ms. Crawford.  Home Economics in the Plevna High School encompassed all 4 years.  As a Freshman in a class of 12 meant that the Home Ec class meant there were 7 of us girls in her class.  The first day she picked me out as that little Bartholomew girl.  Her nose sure looked long when she looked down it at me and announced to the class that she had gone to school with my mother.  Something about the tone of her voice when she said "your mother" made my blood run cold.  Her whole demeanor to me was different then with the other "farm kids".  It was my first case of being disliked simply because of jealousy over which I had no control.

Needless to say, I flunked Home Economics with flying colors.  There was no way in the world I could do anything to please that woman.  My other grades were high, but there was no hope in that class.  Suffice it to say, after that debacle I grew up to work as a cook, manage a restaurant, and own a restaurant, so I must have learned a lot after I left there!  

I have often wondered just what caused the animosity between those two women.  I guess it was not between them, just on Mrs. Crawfords side.  Momma  picked me up take me home to Nickerson one time and Mrs. Crawford passed us with her nose in the air.  I told Momma that she did not like me and Momma said, "It has nothing to do with you.  That is just how she is.  She does not like me."  That was all that was said about it.

And here I set 65 years later wondering what that was all about.  I could never fathom what caused the animosity between those two and now there is not a soul left that could tell me.  I just know this, my mother was the sweetest, kindest, most wonderful woman to ever grace God's green earth and it was Mrs. Crawfords loss.  

And another thing momma told me was "You never know anyone.  You know of them.  You know the part they let you see."  Momma was right.  Over the years I have known many people, but I have not really known them.  I have loved many times, but not known most of them.  A leopard never changes its' spots.  Momma said that.  Momma was usually right.

I miss my Momma.

Plevna, Kansas holds my roots.

Gagnebien, Haas, Beck, Miller, Hatfield, and the list goes on.  When Haas members began to arrive through Ellis Island, they went straight to the "Beck Home" in Nickerson, Kansas and then branched out into the surrounding area, mainly Abbyville, Huntsville and Plevna.  Homesteading was active at the time and Nickerson was pretty well taken, causing them to branch further out in Reno, County. I have a family album that shows the Haas family cutting cottonwoods on the Arkansas River.  My branch of the family did not come here until 1884.  As I recall my grandfather was 6 or 9 years old when he went through Ellis Island.

I can still recall with fondness my Uncle Goll, Uncle Coon, Aunt Lizzie and my dear sweet Aunt Lena.  For some reason I thought my grandfather came to America in 1900, but it was actually 1884.  He was 12 years old at that time.  He married my grandma I 1900.  His father would be my great grandfather, Johann Jakob Haas.  Great granfather actually fathered 16 children by two women.   I come from a long line of weavers. tailors, vine dressers, bakers, and of course, farmers.  But all this is irrelevant to this post.

It must have been about 1970 or so that Dorothy and Ernie moved into a farmhouse outside of Plevna.  I know Little Ernie was just talking good.  I went to visit fairly regularly, but usually when Ernie was at work.  Little Ernie was always a special little boy to me although I had a nest full of my own.  He called me Aunt Do Do, since he could not pronounce Lou Lou.  "  I love you, Aunt Do Do."  Once he came running out of the bedroom to announce "Aunt Do Do, there is a hop grasser in my bedroom!"

Ernie had fenced off a portion of the yard and made that a pig pen.  I do not remember where he worked at the time, seems like he worked for Morton Salt.  Could be wrong.  The important part was that he was gone all day and Dorothy was pregnant.  One weekend he decided to build a new sty for the pigs so he got his lumber and drill.  Please know, that lumber and drill should never be used in a sentence with the name, "Ernie".  In typical fashion he held the 2 x4 up with one hand and drilled through it into his other hand.

They had a station wagon at the time so Ernie laid down in the back, kids were some where and Dorothy began the flying 20 mile trip to the hospital in Hutch.  Ernie would call out every few minutes, " I am still alive.  Drive carefully so you don't wreck.  Hurry!"  Dorothy told me that was her most harrowing trip in her life.  They sold the pigs soon thereafter and moved into town.  Think they moved out on Duffy Road at that time.

For many years we had a Haas family reunion at the school gymnasium.  Everyone brought a dish and we just kind of caught up on each other.  They tore down the school where I had attended my freshman year, but left the gym intact.  Hinshaws Dry Goods store burned.  I went through there once many years ago and the Smith house was a trailer park of sorts, meaning there were several mobile homes on the lot.   The Congregationalist Church was still there as was Grandma Haas's house.  The bank was still there.  I have got to take a day and go there next time I head East.  Course I remember when I stopped at Grandma's old house and got covered in ticks!  Do not want anymore of those.

Towns were built 7 miles apart back then because the trains needed a water stop.  Kansas is full of those little towns, or the remains of them.  Some of them survived, but many did not.  I love to look at my family book and try to envision what life was like back then.  Grandpa Haas married Josie Miller in 1900.  Uncle Gol married Aunt Helen who was Josie's sister, so I have double cousins out there in Southeast Kansas.  

My family is so diverse and far flung that one time I met a boy at a dance and came home to tell mother how great he was.  Her response was  "Forget it!  He is your cousin."  End of that romance and I do not even remember his name, so that is that.

I think I will plan a trip back home and go touch base with the old places in Plevna.  Aunt Lena is gone.  As far as I know the house where grandma lived is still standing.  Maybe I could find one of the Hinshaw twins!  Dean and forgot the other one.  Dean was dark complected  with dark hair and thin.  The other one was fair skinned with freckles and reddish blonde hair and a little on the heavier side.  I have forgotten my friends names!  Janet something.  Charlene Smith.  Damn!  A complete blank!  Maybe I will forget that trip.

Sure wish my momma was here.  She would remember.  

I have a theory about memories.

Many years back I read a series called "Clan of the Cave Bear" by Jean Auel.  The gist of the story, for those who did not read it, was that there existed a tribe of people who were apparently Neanderthals and they had found a young girl who was more advanced  (cro magnum) than they were. ( I may have those 2 backwards, but so be it.)   Apparently her tribe was wiped out in an earthquake and she was the only survivor.  She was found and taken in by the head medicine woman of the Cave Bear Clan.  To make a long story short (since there were 4 or 5 books written ) Ayla, became the protégé of the medicine woman.  I forget her name, but she was capable of calling into memory all her ancestors before her and when a question needed an answer she would seclude herself and with the help of some "herbs" go back in time and find the answer.  Lots of other stuff  happened, but this memory thing is the one I am addressing today.

As most of you know, I have a total of 6 kids.  I never really taught them to cook and yet they are all very good cooks and cook in much the same way I do. ( Little aside here.  The youngest may or may not know the fine art of cooking, but he is certainly an experienced eater, so I guess that qualifies him.)  When I lived with grandma Haas the only time we really ate a big meal was on Sunday.  Sunday mom and dad always came from Nickerson and Aunt Lola and Uncle Alvin would come in after church.  At precisely 1:00 dinner would be put on the table.  Fried chicken, mashed potatoes and cream gravy, green beans, fresh rolls, pickled beets, sweet pickles,  relish, butter, jelly.   And it seems Aunt Lola always brought some sort of chiffon cake, or bread pudding, or something like that.  When dinner was over and the table cleared and the dishes all back in the cupboard, it was time to doze.  A nap was always in order before the long drive (20 miles) back to Nickerson.  Us kids were allowed to run out in the yard as long as we stayed out of the street, which was also the highway, which was actually a county road.  We would walk up to the main business area which was one block away and consisted of Hinshaw's General Store, the bank and a filling station with one gas pump.  Oh, and the school.   Grade school was down stairs and high school was upstairs.

Sometimes if it was really hot, Aunt Lena would run water in her horse tank and we could jump in it and splash around.  (Aunt Lena was the old maid Aunt that is in every family, or was back then.)  We wore our clothes and let them dry in place when we got out.  Right beside Grandma's house and across the street on the way to town, was Great Grandma Hatfields old house.  She had lived right next door to grandma and had planned on marrying some guy and moving him in there when, sadly he dropped dead.  Since she was 75 or 80 years old at that time. she just closed up the house and moved across the street since by that time grandma Haas had her stroke and needed taken care of .  As her mother Great Grandma felt it her duty.  So there they lived until Grandma passed and Aunt Mable moved Great Grandma Hatfield (who was 99 years old at the time) to Coldwater where she lived until her death at age 104.

Grandma Haas is on the left and Great Grandma Hatfield is in the back.  If you notice Great Grandma has sandals on and Grandma has more sturdy shoes.  Great Grandma was a fashion plate right up until the day she died.  The plant in the pot is an Oleandar.  It is deadly poison.  Grandma had 2 of them .  One was white and one was pink.  They smell much like a sweet almond.  I have one that someone gave me 20 years ago.  This picture was taken outside Grandma's house about the time of her first stroke.  She was using a walker, but they wanted to look independent. The window is in front of the setting room.  That was where I slept.   Bless their souls.  I would give an arm and a leg to see them today.  They taught me to crochet.  We read the Bible every night.  Every night.   We never missed a night and we read it out loud.  We did not discuss it.  It was not up for discussion.  We read it and we memorized the important parts and I still know them today.

So where was I before I wandered off?  Oh, yeah.  Memories and the clan of the cave bear.  So there are times when I start to do something and it is like I did this before.  Never even thought of it before, but now I know how to do it because I have done it before.  Baking bread and rolling noodles comes as natural to me as walking, but no one ever showed me how to do it.  I can pluck a chicken and not miss a feather faster than anyone I know. (Of course I really do not know anyone else who cleans a chicken from the point of beheading it, to letting it bleed out, to scalding it and separating the feathers from the chicken and then gutting it.)  Actually, that sounds pretty barbaric, but there you go.  When we lived in Glasco, Kansas, I could buy 2 old hens at the feed store for 50 cents.  That fed us for a week.

Well, Good Lord!  I have no idea what I had in mind when I started this, but I need to wind it up somehow.  I guess you will just have to take my word for it that when I got up at 4:30 this morning I had my head full of wisdom that is far beyond my years and I wanted to share it with you.  I guess it is your loss!  That is what you get for thinking I actually know something! I guess I wish I could remember the things I am doing today as well as the things I never did that I remember so well.  Does that make sense to you?  Oh, shit!  If it does, we may both be in trouble!

Did I cause World War II? Some say yes.

This is my mother at about 7 years old.  I would guess that this is a picture taken to commemorate the purchase of the new washing machine on mom's left since pictures of kids and dogs were not real important at the time, but a new waahing machine was!  And the washer seems to be more centered than mother!  LOL

This is my mother when she was in high school.  She was a farm girl with the soul of an angel.  Now I did hear tales that perhaps mother was not the saint we gave her credit for and history did show that before she met my father, she was married to a man named Jack Walden and my oldest sister was indeed a Walden when we were in school and before she married.  What ever became of him is unknown to any of us.  I recall scuttlebutt that he was a gangster from the Chicago area and mother did indeed live in Chicago before Josephine was born.  It was rumored that she had escaped his evil clutches and returned to Plevna, Kansas and grandma Haas had sold a cow to pay the doctor bill when the baby was born.  No one is alive now to ask, so I guess if I want to I can make up a story, but for history's sake, I will not.

This is my mother and father when they eloped.  Now here is another story.  Dad had been married before and he and his wife had 5 children.  There were 4 boys and one girl.  One of the boys and the girl died of sand pneumonia back in the "dirty 30's"  His wife was rumored to have lost her mind and then died or perhaps taken her life.  Dad put the 3 boys in an orphanage.  Earl and Richard were adopted, but Gene remained in the orphanage until he was taken by a family named Banks who did not adopt him, but gave him a home until he was mostly grown.  Some where I have letters that he wrote to my dad while in the orphange which I shall post for posterity, but not now.  They are very sad.

There were also rumors that dad had his own dark side and I recall a man named Costello that he took me once to the house and I waited in the road while he went inside and talked to him.  Frank Costello lived in a very big house across the river.  And that is all I know about that!  We never went there again and what Dad  did was never fully known to us.

This is me when I was tiny (a sight that will never be repeated).Wasn't I the cutest little thing that you ever saw?   I was hatched out in  Nickerson, Kansas  right before Pearl Harbor was bombed by the Japanese.

Now, I ask you, what the hell happened!?  My mother was beautiful and my father looked like he was mostly Irish and here I come as sturdy German stock.  But it is what it is.  I fully intend to delve into my dark past over the next few weeks, so hang on kiddies, we may be in for a bumpy ride!

My ideas to the congregation at First Congregational United Church of Christ

On Sunday September 14 our minister could not make it to our service so I volunteered to assist Steve Parke by giving the sermon part of the program.  Since I have friends and family who read this and could not attend, here it is in all by the paragraphs I read from a book.  Enjoy and I hope you take something with you when you leave.  

Lou

 I THINK I SHOULD FIRST TELL YOU A BIT ABOUT MYSELF, SO YOU CAN UNDERSTAND WHERE I AM COMING FROM.  I WAS BORN LOUELLA BETH BARTHOLOMEW OCTOBER 1, 1941, TO RUEBEN AND CHRISTINE BARTHOLOMEW IN NICKERSON, KANSAS, POPULATION 1000 SOULS GIVE OR TAKE A FEW.  WE WERE SHARE CROPPERS WITH A MAN IN TOWN.  I HAD AN OLDER SISTER AND A BROTHER.  SHORTLY AFTER MY BIRTH WE WERE THROWN INTO WORLD WAR 2, BUT I DON’T REALLY THINK THAT WAS MY FAULT!   OVER THE NEXT 6 YEARS I WAS BLESSED WITH 3 MORE SISTERS.  POVERTY WAS OUR LIFE, BUT BACK IN THOSE DAYS EVERYONE WAS POOR SO IT DID NOT MATTER.  BY THE TIME I ENTERED HIGH SCHOOL, I BEGAN TO SEE THAT WHILE POVERTY WAS THE NORM, THERE WERE PEOPLE ACTUALLY CLIMBING OUT OF POVERTY AND LIVING IN MUCH BETTER HOMES THAN WE HAD.  WE HAD NO RUNNING WATER OR ELECTRICITY AND WE WERE OFTEN THE BRUNT OF JOKES.  MY BROTHER ALTERED HIS BIRTH CERTIFICATE WHEN HE WAS 16 TO MAKE HIM 18 AND OFF HE WENT TO THE ARMY, THEREBY ESCAPING THE SHARE CROPPER LIFE.

I LIVED WITH MY GRANDMOTHER AND GREAT GRANDMOTHER FOR A YEAR AND THAT WAS WHEN I LEARNED TO CROCHET AND TO READ MY BIBLE.  I WAS NOT ALLOWED TO READ LIBRARY BOOKS, ONLY THE BIBLE.  MY REQUIRED BOOK REPORT WAS ON THE BIBLE.  I WENT TO A CONGREGATIONAL CHURCH IN THE LITTLE TOWN OF PLEVNA.  I DO NOT THINK IT WAS A UCC CHURCH, BUT IT MIGHT HAVE BEEN.

WE MOVED TO HUTCHINSON, KANSAS, MY SENIOR YEAR AND I IMMEDIATELY DROPPED OUT OF SCHOOL AND RAN AWAY.  I MARRIED A MAN I HAD KNOWN FOR 3 WEEKS, HAD 5 KIDS IN RAPID SUCCESSION, DIVORCED, REMARRIED REPLAYED THAT SCENARIO THREE TIMES, RAISED MY KIDS ALONE, MOVED TO COLORADO, MARRIED A COUPLE MORE TIMES AND THEN FINALLY MARRIED KENNY.  KENNY WAS A STABILIZING FORCE IN MY LIFE AND TAUGHT ME THAT I WAS A WORTHY PERSON, BOUGHT ME A HOME AND GAVE ME STABILITY THUS OPENING THE WAY FOR ME TO BE THE WOMAN I AM TODAY.    

WHEN I WAS YOUNG, CHURCH WAS MY REFUGE.  FOLLOWING MY FIRST DIVORCE, CHURCH WAS FORGOTTEN.  I DID SEND THE KIDS, BUT I DID NOT GO.  WHILE I DID NOT GO TO CHURCH, I NEVER TURNED MY BACK ON GOD.  HE WAS ALWAYS THERE AND SOME TIMES IN MY DARKEST HOURS HE WAS THE ONLY FRIEND I HAD.  I THANK HIM THAT HE WAS A BETTER FRIEND TO ME THAN I WAS TO HIM.  THERE ARE PARTS OF MY LIFE THAT I HAVE NEVER TALKED ABOUT AND NEVER WILL, BUT I STAND BEFORE YOU NOW, A WOMAN MADE OF THOSE PARTS.    I HAVE BEEN POOR SO I HELP THE POOR.  I HAVE SEEN DEATH , DYING, SICKNESS, AND MENTAL ILLNESS, SO I HOLD MY HAND OUT TO THOSE WHO NEED ME.  I HAVE BEEN JUDGED, SO I DO NOT JUDGE.  I TRY TO LISTEN AND HEAR GOD TELL ME WHERE TO GO NEXT, AND IT WORKS!  SEVERAL YEARS AGO HE LED THROUGH THE DOORS OF THIS CHURCH AND SEVERAL MONTHS BACK HE LED TERESA AND I TO BECOME YOUR MODERATOR.  DID YOU THINK ALL THAT HAPPENED BY ACCIDENT?  I THINK NOT.  I HOPE THAT IS NOT A DECISION YOU REGRET.  JUST STICK WITH ME HERE FOR A LITTLE BIT.

OUR SISTER CHURCH ACROSS TOWN IS TAKING A DIFFERENT APPROACH.  THEY WANT TO TIGHTEN THINGS DOWN, CHANGE THINGS, REWRITE THINGS AND I WISH THEM WELL ON THAT,  BUT I THINK I GOT THIS FIGURED OUT.

GOD ALSO LED ME TO VOLUNTEER AT HOSPICE.  I WORK THE ELEVENTH HOUR PROGRAM THERE.  FOR THOSE OF YOU NOT FAMILIAR WITH THE NEW HOSPICE RULES IT IS KNOWN AS SANGRE DE CRISTO HOSPICE AND PALLIATIVE CARE.  IT USED TO BE THAT IF YOU WENT INTO HOSPICE YOU WOULD BE DEAD IN 6 MONTHS.  NOT SO ANYMORE.  THE PALLIATIVE CARE IS FOR PEOPLE WHO WANT TO HANG ON TO LIFE, TAKE THEIR MEDICINE AND HOPEFULLY GET OUT OF THE HOSPICE PROGRAM.  THAT HAPPENS A LOT, BUT THERE ARE PEOLE WHO ARE DEFINITELY DYING AND WELCOME THE JOURNEY WHILE OTHERS ARE NOT QUITE SO EAGER.  AS THEY NEAR THE END WE REFER TO IT AS THE ELEVENTH HOUR, AND THAT IS MY SPEICALTY.  I SET WITH THEM AS THEY NEAR THE NEXT JOURNEY.  SOMETIMES THEY HAVE FAMILY, BUT NOT ALWAYS AND THOSE ARE THE ONES I PREFER.  THAT WAS THE CASE WITH A MAN NAMED BILL.  HIS FAMILY ARRIVED, BUT NOT UNTIL HE WAS GONE.  HE TALKED BY PHONE WITH HIS MOTHER BEFORE HE BEGAN HIS FINAL ASSENT.   HE HAD A VERY PEACEFUL CROSSING AND THAT IS WHAT WE STRIVE FOR.

 SO I MEET PEOPLE WHO ARE TRANSITIONING FROM THIS LIFE TO THE NEXT AND NOT ALWAYS IMMEDIATELY.  ONE OF THESE IS SAMMIE .  MY FIRST CONTACT WITH SAMMIE WAS 6 HOURS, DURING WHICH HER FAMILY ATTENDED A REUNION.  SINCE SHE IS NEARING, BUT NOT QUITE THERE YET, WHE IS LUCID AND WELCOMES COMPANY.  SHE DOES HAVE A LARGE FAMILY, BUT THEY ARE VERY BUSY WITH THEIR LIVES WHICH LEAVES HER CRAVING COMPANY.  SHE IS A WOMAN WHO IS DEVOTED TO GOD AND SHE BOASTS THAT SHE HAS A DIRECT LINE TO GOD.  SO I TOLD HER ABOUT MY CHURCH AND HOW WE WERE STRUGGLING TO KEEP OUR DOORS OPEN.  SHE SAID SHE WOULD PRAY FOR US AND SHE HAS BEEN DOING THAT!  SHE IS VERY SIMPLE IN HER BELIEF AND HAS WRITTEN A SMALL BOOK WHICH HER DAUGHTER PUBLISHED FOR HER.  SHE SAID SHE WOKE UP ONE NIGHT IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT AND WAS DRIVEN TO WRITE ALL THIS DOWN AS IT CAME INTO HER HEAD.  IT IS SO SIMPLE THE WAY SAMMIE PUTS IT.  I WANT TO READ YOU 2 PARAGRAPHS AND THEN LEAVE THIS BOOK IN MAYFLOWER HALL FOR YOU.

PAGE 3, 2 PARAGAPHS.

 I CAN FEEL A DIFFERENCE IN THE WHOLE ATTITUDE OF OUR CHURCH SINCE SHE RATTLED THE HOT LINE TO GOD.   I THINK MOST OF US ARE JUST KIND OF PUTTING ONE FOOT IN FRONT OF THE OTHER AND PLODDING DOWN THE ROAD.  I KNOW I WAS UNTIL SAMMIE WOKE ME UP.  APATHY ACCOMPLISHES NOTHING.

WHEN YOU GET UP IN THE MORNING, DO YOU WONDER WHAT KIND OF DAY YOU WILL HAVE?   OH, CRAP, TRAFFIC IS GOING TO BE A BEAR!  AND IT IS.  I KNOW THE GROCERY STORE IS GOING TO HAVE LINES A MILE LONG.  AND IT DOES.  BET THERE WON’T BE 20 PEOPLE IN CHURCH TODAY.  AND THERE ISN’T.

SAMMIE  SCOFFS AT ME.  SHE EXPLAINS IT THIS WAY.  GOD LOVES YOU.  GOD WANTS YOU TO BE HAPPY.  IF FILLLING THE CHURCH WILL MAKE YOU HAPPY, JUST TELL HIM AND HE WILL FILL THE CHURCH, BUT YOU HAVE TO BELIEVE THAT IT WILL HAPPEN.  GOD CAN NOT DO IT BY HIMSELF.  HE NEEDS ALL OF US TO MAKE IT HAPPEN.  GOD LIVES IN ALL OF US AND WE HAVE GOT TO LET GOD SHOW THROUGH OUR FACES.  STRANGERS READ US.  IF THEY SEE US WITH OUR FACES DRAWN AND WORRIED, THEY TURN AWAY.  SOME PEOPLE MIGHT CALL IT KARMA, THE POWER OF POSITIVE THINKING, DUMB LUCK, BUT I HAVE FOUND THAT IF I HOLD REAL STILL, THE ANSWER AND THE ACTION SEEM TO POP IN MY HEAD.  AND IF I DO NOT QUESTION, BUT JUST DO WHAT THAT LITTLE VOICE (FOR WANT OF A BETTER WORD) TELLS ME, I FIND MYSELF WHERE I BELONG, DOING WHAT I SHOULD BE DOING.

WHAT I WANT US TO DO IS PRACTICE WHAT SAMMIE PREACHES!  GOD IS LOVE AND HE WANTS US HAPPY.  HE WANTS THIS CHURCH TO FLOURISH.  HE WANTS KIDS IN THE PEWS AND MONEY IN THE COFFER.  HE DOESN’T JUST WANT US TO EXIST.  HE WANTS US TO THRIVE!  HE WANTS US OUT IN THE WORLD HELPING PEOPLE.  REMEMBER THE SONG “THIS LITTLE LIGHT OF MINE?”  I’M GONNA LET IT SHINE.   AND “AS YOU HAVE DONE THIS TO THE LEAST OF THESE, MY BROTHER, YOU HAVE DONE IT TO ME.”  “IF YOU HAVE THE FAITH THE SIZE OF A MUSTARD SEED, YOU CAN SAY “MOVE” TO THE MOUNTAIN AND IT WILL MOVE”

I SAW WHAT HAPPENED WITH JOEY.  I KNOW WE CAN MAKE MIRACLES HAPPEN.  I SEE IT EVERY DAY WHEN I SEE A HUNGRY CHILD FED.  I SEE IT WHEN THE TRUNK OF MY CAR, WHICH IS FILLED BY TOWNSPEOPLE, IS EMPTIED AT LOS POBRES.   OUR CHURCH IS A WORK OF ART AND WE ARE THE CARETAKERS OF THAT ART.  LET US TRY AN EXPERIMENT FOR JUST ONE WEEK.   WHEN YOU GO TO BED EACH NIGHT, TURN ALL OF YOUR CARES OVER TO GOD.  WHEN THEY ARE TURNED OVER TO HIM, THEY ARE NO LONGER YOUR CONCERNS.  THANK HIM FOR ALL HE IS GOING TO DO BOTH IN YOUR LIFE AND IN OUR CHURCH.  THANK HIM FOR BRINGING NEW PEOPLE TO OUR CHURCH.  THANK HIM FOR GIVING YOU WISDOM AND THE WORDS TO SPREAD HIS GOSPEL.  DO NOT WONDER IF HE WILL,  BUT RATHER   ASSUME HE IS ALREADY ON IT.  THEN SMILE AT YOURSELF IN THE MIRROR, CRAWL IN YOUR BED AND GO TO SLEEP!  IT IS NOW IN GODS HANDS! 

Plevna, Kansas, Grandma Haas and Great Grandma Hatfield

I know I have written about my Plevna years, but in case you missed it let me go there again.  Grandma Haas, who was Mother's mother, had a stroke mys last year of grade school.  Great Grandma Hatfield was pushing 100 and could not take care of her alone, so I was sent to stay with them and do what I could.  This meant I started my Freshman year in the little Plevna High School.  The whole high school was less then 40 kids.  Plevna was a farming community and all the kids in school were farmer's kids.  I stuck out like a sore thumb.  But it was what it was and there I stayed.  I do not remember any of those kids I went to school with.  There was a family named Smith that lived catty cornered from the grandma's and I went over there sometimes, but was under strict orders not to look at their television because that was the work of the devil!


The family consisted of Mr. and Mrs. Smith and a whole bunch of girls.  I can recall 5 for sure.  I never saw a boy, so that may have been the family.  There may have been a son some where but I do not recall.  Mr. Smith had one blue eye and one brown eye.  That was something I had never seen before and have not seen since.  I see it occasionally in dogs, but never in a human.  Of course, I do not actually seek the phenomenon out, so it may slip by me undetected.

There were several things that amazed and intrigued me about the Smith family.  The first was the size of the house.  It was a two story that had never seen a coat of paint.  It must have been about 10 rooms and was lathe and plaster.  I know this because the ceiling of the foyer fell down and we were then relegated to using the back door because no one cleaned up the mess.  Later the ceiling in the front room would fall also.  That was more serious as Mr. Smith was napping on the couch under it when it collapsed and received a small cut.  We did praise God that it was not more serious!  One room contained a quilt frame which always held a quilt, but I do not know if anyone ever quilted or it was just there.

As in most homes of that era, the plumbing consisted of a privvy out back and a pump by the back door and usually one in the kitchen.  This was the other thing that amazed me about the family dynamic.  There were several wash tubs located in the kitchen.  They were there to hold the dirty dishes.  On Saturday, they heated water and washed all the dishes.  It was a bee hive of activity on that day as all the women folk were there and working feverishly to get the chore done.  When the dishes were all washed, dried, and put away it was time to heat the water and wash the clothes.  Saturdays were definitely work days at the Smith house!  Mr. Smith stayed in his chair by the window looking out at the back yard.  The dog stayed by him so it did not get stepped on by the scurrying women.  I did not go over there on Saturday.

Sunday I was expected to attend church.   Mom and dad would come for a visit about once a month.  They brought the 3 younger girls.  This was always special to me.  Dinner would be on the table when I got home.  It was always a feast and always the same fare.  Great grandma fried chicken and the rest of the meal materialized around that.   You know the comfort food thing?  Mashed potatoes, gravy, corn, green beans, homemade dinner rolls, butter, jelly and pudding of some sort or another for dessert.  Some times a cake or pie.  Celery stuffed with peanut butter.  Pickled beets and sweet pickles.  The poor table would be groaning from all the food.  Never went hungry at Sunday dinner.
As I recall we never ate after the sun went down.  Dishes were washed and back in the cupboard in very short order.  The men folk, which usually consisted of my father, sat in the rocking chair with his thumbs hooked together over his stomach.  Grandma died in January of my freshman year.  Aunt Mabel came from Coldwater and took great grandma back with her.  I returned to Nickerson and the bosom of my family.

My father.  As I recall, my father was a big man.  His skin was very white and his hair had at one time been mostly red, but not a bright red.  It was more like a reddish blonde with a tad of brown.  He had freckles on his hands which were very white and not calloused at all.  I don't remember his eyes.  He had a big stomach and always wore overalls.  He wore brown, high top shoes.  Funny the things we remember from our childhood.  I think he may have been English with a bit of Irish, but who knows.
I do not think he liked me very much.  I know Mary was his favorite, but Mary was everyone's favorite.  Mother kept all of us girl's hair very short, but Mary was allowed to let hers grow long.  We were all so jealous!  Dorothy was the baby.  Donna and I were just there as  middle children.  Josephine ran away and got married very young.  Jake forged his birth certificate to show his age as 17 when he was 15 and joined the Army.  That made me the oldest of the youngest kids at home.  I relished in that and was very bossy.

At night we played "kick the can"  with the neighbor kids.  That is a game of hide and go seek which entailed placing a can on the ground and the one who was "it" counted while everyone hid.  Then the "it" person had to find each one and bring them back to "base".  While the "it" person went to search for the remaining hidden, some one could sneak in and "kick the can" which freed the ones who were stuck in the "jail".  Game sometimes went on for hours.  In day time we had "clod " fights.  This required a freshly plowed field.  We usually chose small clods which had dried and threw them at each other.  They usually crumbled on contact, but if they had been baking in the sun several days, they tended to be a little harder and left marks.  As tempers flared, the clods got bigger and more then one tear was shed either from pain, frustration, or from an eye full of dirt!  Brother Jake decided at one time to pull out his .22 rifle.  Little shit!  The game was over for the day and he was the winner for sure.

More about Plevna later, but now I have to go tend to the geese.

Finishing up my grade school years.

I remember little about my grade school years and whether that is by choice or chance, I know not.  Every year we had a class picture made and every year I was on the end of the front row because we were grouped according to height and I was pretty much the runt of the litter, so to speak.  I remember we had to walk to a seperate building for music class.  Miss Barkiss was the teacher and she later married David Houston, who was the son of the Principal at Nickerson Grade School. I do know I could not hit a note if my life depended on it.  I still remember her making me stand in front of the class and how hard I tried to hit middle "c" what ever the hell that was.  I don't think I have hit it yet, though I do love to caterwaul the country music I grew up listening to on the radio.  When it was time for the annual music program, Miss Barkiss gave me the job of announcer since I could not sing, but my voice carried and she needed some one whose voice carried.  I loved that.  I could stay behind the curtain with my microphone and no one could see me.
Most of the school work I considered stupid and did not bother doing it.  Poor mother!  I remember  a few of the kids I went to school with, but really don't care what became of them, although I do wish them well.  Nancy Cuthberson who's dad was in constuction and they had 2 Great Pyrennes dogs that I was terrified would step over the fence and eat me.  Martha Knobloch was a pianist and we were taken to her recital which was held at her home and we had to dress up and we were most uncomfortable, but for years after I would point at her house and tell whoever I was with that I had been inside that home and it was beautiful!  Barbara Hawk was the daughter of the dentist and my best friend.  Mother cleaned house for Mrs. Hawk and sewed for them.  I remember once I was over there and Mr Hawk made us an ice cream with a cherry on top and mine fell off and I cried like a baby, so he gave me another one.  There was Joan Moore, Beth McGonigle, Linda Schlatter, Gary Battey, Earl Kelly, David Sjoborg who's older brother was at college and died in a car wreck.  Irene Rienke, Evelyn Piper, Loren McQueen, Kenny Fenton, Ronnie Beck, and names that completely elude me.
In 8th grade 2 new boys arrived on the scene.  Billy Newman and Steve Dorrell were from the big city of Hutchinson.  The were cousins.  I had no idea what cool was, but one look at Steve and I knew the definition of cool, super cool, and coolest thing in the world.
Remember Fonzie?   The Fonz?  Steve exuded cool and never let on that he even knew us little girls were batting our heads against a stone wall.  He wore blue jeans with the belt loops cut off so they rode down his hips just a tiny bit.  He wore a white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up exactly one and a half turns.  And the collar up in the back, but laying flat in the front.  His black hair was combed into a duck tail and every hair was held in place with axle grease.  Billy was just there, but when Steve walked in the room he arrived and when he left, he sucked the air out of the room.  He was skinny, giving him the lean and hungry look  He was my first honest to goodness crush, and bless his heart, he had eyes only for himself.
I do not remember graduating from grade school.  I don't think it was a big deal back then.  I just remember reading on my report card that Louella Bartholomew was promoted to grade 9.  That was it. Grade school was behind me.  Off to the big High School on the other end of Main Street.  But, alas, before that could happen my life took a bit of a turn and I was sent to Plevna, Kansas to take care of grandma Haas and Great Grandma Hatfield, thus seperating me from classmates I had gone to school with for 8 years.
Stay tuned.

Aunt Lena

Woke up this morning with Aunt Lena on my mind.  Aunt Lena has been gone for many years, but she still resonates in my mind on a regular basis.  Aunt Lena was my Grandfather Haas's sister.  She was, and I must put this delicately, a "spinster lady who rented rooms to other spinster ladies who were school teachers." 
Back when the Haas family migrated through Ellis Island and settled in and around Abbyville, Kansas things were very different.  The patriarch of the family, Johann Jakob Haas, had already buried his first wife, Elizabeth Beck who bore him 7 children.  This was known as the "first family.  He then married the woman who took care of the first family, Dorathea  Schade and started another family.   This family consisted of 9 children, but one died an infant.  When plans were made to migrate, the two oldest girls, from the first family, boarded a steam ship and then a train to travel to Nickerson, Kansas to stay with their Beck relation who lived on the outskirts of Nickerson.  As a tiny girl, I remember going to the Beck house once.  That is all I remember.  I went to school with a boy named Ronnie Beck, who I am sure was a shirt tail relative.  I never dated in Nickerson because I was a distant cousin to everyone there one way or another and I just never wanted to do the incest thing!
But, I digress.  As a teenager I went to live with my grandmothers in Plevna, Kansas, and became well acquainted with my Aunt Lena.
That was when I learned why she had never married.  Seems back in the dating years. that Great Grandma Hatfield (nee Gagnibien), was at the time married to a man named Franklin Miller.  They had 3 children, Lou Miller and 2 girls, Mable and Josie.  Next farm over was the Haas family with lots of marriageable kids.  Mabel married Goll Haas.  Josie married Christoph Haas.  Uncle Goll was checking out Lena Haas when Great Grandma put her foot down and said her whole family was not going to turn into Haas family and so Uncle Lou and Aunt Lena said their goodbyes and he married a complete stranger.  Aunt Lena embrassed spinsterhood and moved into Plevna and starting renting rooms to school teachers.  Back in those days school teachers were predominately women and more often than not, single.
Aunt Lena always seemed tall.  She stood ramrod straight at all times and talked with her teeth clenched together.  Her teeth were always clenched.  I used to think she might have lock jaw, but I think that is just how she talked.  Expect there was a lot of "Keep that mouth shut!"  with a total of 16 kids running around and her being towards the end of the line they all bossed her! 
Aunt Lena always wore a dress.  Always.  Well, I can't say what she wore during harvest and before I knew her, but I am betting it was a dress.  But trust me, when she wanted to go wade in the creek, or chase a calf across the field, she knew how to modify her dress.  She would slam on the brakes in that old jalopy she drove and jump out of  the car.  "Come on, kids!"  She would spread her legs and reach back between her knees and catch the hem of the skirt in the back, pull it forward and up and tuck it in her waistband.  Instant culottes!  And she taught us the fine art!  She would put one foot on the bottom barbed wire and pull the wire above it up so us kids could crawl through with out ramming a barb in our back, usually.  Then off we would gallop across the field in quest of what ever Aunt Lena had seen.  Sometimes we ended up wading in a creek.  Sometimes we picked Sand Hill Plums.  Sometimes we just walked across the field and kicked clods. 
Aunt Lena kept a horse tank in her front yard.  In the summer it was always full of water and when we went to her house we could jump in and cool off.  The only item of clothing we removed was our shoes.  When we got out we just "dried out."  Kansas gets very hot in the summer and those little dips were always just what us kids needed. 
I remember the last time I seen Aunt Lena.  It must have been about 1992.  She was born in 1893.  She died in 1994. She would have been about 99 years old.  It was at the Auditorium in Plevna where I had gone to high school  The school was gone, but they used the auditorium for reunions and such.  I had a cousin of sorts, Earl Boyd who was at the time 88 and legally blind.  Had been for years.  He and Aunt Lena were talking and it went like this.
"Oh, Lena, I would love to see the old homestead, but I don't have a car."
"Oh, Earl, I have a car, but I can't drive."
"Well, you have a car!  I can drive us there.  It is just a couple miles and it is all dirt roads."
"But, Earl, you can't see!  How can you drive?"
"You can see, Lena!  You can tell me where to go."
"Do you think it would work Earl?"
"Sure!  Let's plan on doing that someday soon."
I don't think they ever made the trip, but it made me happy to know they wanted to.  I thought several times, after I returned to Colorado, that I should make the effort and make that happen for them, but I never did.  It was the procrastination thing that always trips me up. 
And now, I am the older generation.  Now, I am thinking I would like to make a trip back to the old home place and I keep putting it off.  Maybe some day.  For now, I will set here and remember.  I miss my mother.  I miss my husband.  My brother, sisters, uncles, aunts, grandparents and on and on and on.  I can see them all, just like they were.  Is that a sign of old age?  Senility?  Or just wishful thinking?
 

And where do I put thier memory?

This is the braid that was cut from Grandma Haas's head when she entered the nursing home only a few days before her death in  1955 (as I recall.)

Now I do not want you to  think I have some sort of hair fetish, because I do not.  Mother had kept Grandma's braid for many years and when she passed it was given to me because I was the only one who knew whose it was or how it came to be in mother's possession. 

 

I recall the day I came home from Plevna High School and found I did not live there any more.  Grandma was not well.  We knew she had a light stroke.  It was her second.  When I had gone to live with them, she was using a walker and Great grandma Hatfield who was 99 years old at the time, was taking care of her.  I was there to help lighten her burden.  I loved both of those old ladies almost beyond belief.  They taught me to crochet and to read the Bible every night and pray before I took a bite of food or dared to raise up out of my bed in the morning.  Actually, it was not a bed.  I slept on the couch because they were worried that if I slept upstairs in one of the beds that something drastic could befall me.  I could fall down the stairs if I walked in my sleep.  The house could catch on fire and I would perish.  Some one might creep up the outside of the house and carry me away.  Any number of things could befall me, so I slept on the couch.  When cousin Carl would come to stay a night, I had to sleep on the settee behind the stove because he was taller and I fit just fine on that little thing as long as I drew my knees up to my chin.  Cousin Carl was a hoot!  He played basketball and I worshipped him.  (As I look back on my life I find I have loved and worshipped a lot of people.)

 

So back to that day.  Aunt Mabel and Uncle Goll had come from Coldwater.  Aunt Mabel was grandma's sister and she was married to my grandfathers brother, Uncle Goll.  That made all of us kids double cousins.  Sad as it seems, I have no idea where any of them are.  Course, they have no idea about me either!  I really think most of them are reaping their rewards up over my head.  Aunt Lola, mother's sister, was there.  Uncle Frank, Uncle Ray, and Uncle Charlie had all been consulted.  The decision was made to place grandma in the nursing home and Great grandma would return to Coldwater with Aunt Mabel.  (She remained there until her death at the ripe old age of 104.  She was in complete control of body and mind until just a few days before her death.)

 

My mind is not clear as to the sequence of events.  I know grandma was placed in the nursing home.  I may have remained with Aunt Mabel and Uncle Goll and Great grandma until grandma died just a few days later.  I do recall being in Plevna  and in school when she died.  The funeral service was held next door at the Congregational Church of Christ.  After the burial I returned to Nickerson and never saw the inside of the house again.  I know Aunt Lola emptied it out and mother received a small gray hassock full of crocheted doilies.  I thought that was so sad. 

 

I have been back to visit the town, but it has changed so.  The high school is torn down and all that remains is the gymnasium.  But in the gym was also the kitchen where Mrs. Crawford taught home economics.  It was in that room that she informed me I would never be anything important, because I was nothing like my beautiful mother.  And I flunked cooking under her tutelage, which I found ironic since I have owned and managed very nice restaurants most of my adult life and am a very good cook.  And she was wrong about me not being like my mother, because I am.  I just never made the beautiful part, but all the rest is there for the world to see. 

This braid was cut from the head of Bret Mercer (nee Cavendar) when he came to live with us in 1998 (as I recall).

Bret was our grandson.  When he was first born he spent lots of time with us.  Then his parents divorced and took new mates.  Bret still spent time with us.   When he was a tiny boy, he always wanted a "Kenny Mercer haircut", which we gave him.  He disappeared from our lives for sometime and when he returned he had very long hair.  As circumstances some times happen beyond our control he ended up coming to live with us and the first thing he wanted was his hair cut.  We of course gave him what he wanted.  So this is a symbolic hank of hair here.  We ended up adopting Bret and this remains in my top dresser drawer with the one from Grandma Haas.

 

So my question here is this:  What do I do with these mementoes?  I can not just throw them away.  That would be sacrilegious as far as I am concerned.  So I keep them in the drawer and take them out very rarely.  Grandma's is very dry and brittle.  Bret's is still supple and filled with color and highlights.  But what about 10, 20 or 30 years from now when someone is going through my belongings and they come upon this hair?  Will they know what it is?  I could put a note in with it, but do I want to do that?  It is a quandary.

 

For the time being, I am just going to put them back in the drawer and forget I seen them.  Grandma's especially brings tears to my eyes to just look at it.  It is like spun gold and the head that produced it is so dear to me ...... 

 

 

 

Today fur shall fly!

Hey, I got me a helper coming this morning.  I am so excited.  I got 2 bookcases full of books up into my bedroom.  Got the little desk Sherman gave me up there, also.  One corner empty, one old lady worn out.  Took the day off yesterday and just chilled.  Well, took the kids to lunch, met a fellow at the library to help him with his computer, came home and emptied, or nearly emptied, the top of the china cabinet.  Then I took a bunch of pictures for eBay and then wove about 8 inches on my towels.  They are going to be absolutely beautiful.
Last night the phone rang and who do you think was on the other end?  Grandson Mikey!  Mom said grandma needed some help and he was just hanging out so he could sure come and give me a hand if I wanted him to!  So I got to get out of the pj's a little early today.  Oh, yeah, and the guy is coming for my furnace inspection so today is going to be pretty busy. 
I picked a color to paint and I think it is going to be alright.  Bedroom is purple, bathroom is pink, office is aqua, and the main level will be something called desert straw, unless I go with the chenille.  Either way, all the stuff has to come off the walls.  Seems like a never ending job here.  Really makes me long for the good old days back in Nickerson, when mother was in charge!
I do want to tell you about my Christmas's there.  Seems like the first one in that house was when Jake broke it to me that there was no such animal as "you know who" (in case some one is reading this to a little kid!).  Seems that was the first year that mom and dad let him have the job of bringing in the stuff and putting it on top of the pieces of paper with our names on them.  We needed our socks, man!  Could not be hanging those up for some fat guy to shove stuff in and stretching them out of shape.  Many years later I did have a stocking, but it was no big deal by that time.
I heard him sneaking back to his little bed in the middle of the night and asked where he had been.  So he told me.  And it seemed that he had proof.  I was getting a tin doll house that held tiny people and tiny furniture.  That was hard to believe because that seemed like something a rich kid would have gotten  I learned later why.  Seemed my dear Aunt Helen Lang had taken pity on us that year and wanted to make our Christmas special.  She sure did!  Aunt Helen would pop in from time to time in our lives and when she went away there was always wonderful stuff left behind.  Once she enrolled me in Brownie, which is the really beginning of Girl Scouts.  Even bought me a Brownie uniform.  I was so cool!  I had a little brown beanie for my head.  Do they still have Brownie's?  I need to research that. 
The next Christmas that I remember I did not fare nearly as well.  Seems there was a book of children's poems, a red rubber ball and an orange, oh, and that godawful candy that was dry powdered sugar and something and then dipped in chocolate or something that was meant to be chocolate.  The candy I liked was the ribbon candy that tasted like licorice.  It seemed that we always made the trip to Grandma Haas's in Plevna every Christmas.  It was a very long ways.  I think 23 miles.  And it seemed the car always over heated.
Any way we always had a Christmas tree.  The reason we had one was because at school every room had a Christmas tree and when school was over for the year, the tree went home with some one poor who needed it and with at least 4 kids in school there, one of us was bound to luck out.  And here we would go down the road with our poor little tree with a few strands of tinsel clinging to the branches as if we were the proudest people in the town. 
I would like to interject here, that I do not regret growing up in poverty.  At that time we were not the only poor people at the school.  Everyone was poor.  It was right after the depression and the war had just ended.  We did what we could and we all hung together.  That is how things were done in those days.  The best we could hope for was that the rich girls would get new clothes so we could have their old ones.  Jake fared the worst because boys wore their clothes until they fell to pieces so he never got any new "old" clothes.
I have yet to have a Christmas when I do not remember back to Nickerson.  Seems we always go back to our roots and no matter how far away I roam,  I am still "from Nickerson." There is probably no one living in Nickerson today that remembers those Bartholomew kids. I probably would not know them, because I am still remembering the people who were there when I was.
My poor little jumbled mind is ready for bed, so "Goodnight, Mrs. Calabash, wherever you are!"

I know I showed you this, but...

I just want to point out some things of interest.  Like see that thing in the lower left hand corner?  Do you know what that is?  That is a sewing kit that sets on the cabinet or some where that it will be handy.  The whole thing is wooden and usually hand made.  The bird has a pair of scissors that makes up his head feathers and the blades are his beak.  Under the beak is various colored spools of thread.  In the center is a pincushion and in the pin cushion will be a needle.  I can walk in anyone's house now days and tell them I need to sew a button back on and I will be met with blank stares.  Needles and thread are just not the common items they were 50 or 60 years ago.
The couch they are setting on is a dark blue sort of plush fabric.  It is called an overstuffed divan.  The pattern etched in the fabric would have been some sort of leaf design or flower.  The walls are papered it is matched!  It is very neutral, because bold statements were not made in those days.  The pillows are of course, hand sewn, probably either by hand or on an old treadle.  I just don't remember the sewing machine at grandma's , but I am sure there was one there.
But the crème de la crème can be seen on the back of the couch between mother and grandma Haas.  See those white round things?  Those are crocheted sets that go on the back and arms of anything you set on.  These particular ones are made by first crocheting the round things.  They are made up of probably 85,000 tiny crochet stitches and probably in a size 20 thread.  Back in those days these were considered necessary.  If they were not on there the couch was "naked."  And trust me, it would have been more acceptable for me to cavort naked in the street as for that couch to not be finished with it's crocheted trimmings.  And the matching overstuffed chair would have a set that matched.  Heaven forbid that it looked any different.
And any table that was in any room would have a doily on it.  The center of the dining room table, a very large,heavy, round oak table had a big pineapple doily as the centerpiece.  It was about 2 feet across and the pineapple ruffles stood about a foot high.  When this was "soiled" it was washed and then "finished" by soaking it in a very heavy sugar water and then placed on a towel to dry.  The ruffles were pulled to full height as it dried and when it went back on the table it was perfect and looked like it had been ironed.
So that is it for this picture.  Oh, one more thing.  See how they are dressed?  Dresses, aprons, hose, shoes, the whole nine yards.  When those women came out of the bedroom this is how they looked.  They were dressed "for the day" and that was that.  You might catch me in my jammies at about any hour before 10, but not them.  I do not think I ever saw grandma in her night gown any time except when I put he in it at night and took it off in the morning.
So much for the grandma's for today.

(I know there are some of you out there who read this blog as a means of keeping up with family history.  You should know that I have my blog converted into a pdf. file  regularly and if you would like I can send it to you as an attachment.  I have not done it for this year, but just let me know if you want one and I will make sure you get it when it is ready.)









 

Memories of Great Grandma Hatfield.

The summer before I started my high school days, I was sent from my home in Nickerson, Kansas to Plevna, Kansas, to live with my great grandmother and my grandmother, both on my mother's side.  My dear grandmother had suffered a stroke at some point and since great grandmother was over 100 years old, the family thought she should have some help and I was a likely looking candidate since the only girl cousins I had were of marrying age and I was barely into puberty.  So off I went.
The grandmothers had a two story frame house.  Two bedrooms upstairs, one down, a large living room, a dining room, kitchen and located in the hallway under the stairwell, a commode.  That is to say a bathroom stool and that was it.  No sink, no nothing and I was not allowed to use it.  I might either break it or wear it out.  It was for grandma Haas only.  Great grandma and I could just trot on out back and use the "outhouse".  And so we did.  Rain, sleet, heat, or snow could not stay us from our several times daily rounds.  Had a "chamber pot" for night time needs cause God only knew what was out at night.
I was not allowed to sleep upstairs in one of the beds because Lord only knows what was up there.  So I slept on the couch right outside of thier bedroom.  My clothes were kept in a box inside the stair way on the second step.  I took a "bath" once a week by setting an enamel bowl on grandmothers stool and using a wash cloth.  I missed the big zinc tub we had at home.
Great grandmother was a very regal lady.  She was small boned, but tall.  She always held herself in a very formal and staid position.  At least I thought she had regal bearing, but as I think back, the woman was over 100 years old!  She probably couldn't have bent if she had to.  I am not near that old and I am beginning to get a little formal bearing about my own self!  She was very hard of hearing (again the age thing no doubt).  The high school was only one block from home, so I ran home for lunch every day.  When I would come out the door and start home I could hear great grandmother's old stand up radio broadcasting the market prices for wheat and corn.  The only time the radio was turned on was at straight up noon and that was to hear the market report.  She did not always have it tuned in exactly and the news would bleed in also, but she was happy as she sat in her rocker and nodded her head to the man giving the report.  No doubt she was lost in another time and place.  Farming runs in our blood.
Every evening we set up the kitchen for breakfast.  3 plates on the table each with 1/2 an orange and silverware. A dripolater was filled with water, coffee grounds were put in the basket, and it was set on a pilot light.  The egg poacher was filled with water and set on the other pilot light.  3 eggs were placed in a bowl on the table near the stove along with the bread.  Jelly was in the center of the table and the table was covered with a cloth.  Next morning the coffee was pulled to the burner and the fire started under it.  Same with the poacher.  Eggs were broken and placed in the poacher tins.  Bread was placed in the toaster and it was plugged in.  The toaster toasted the bread on one side and that side was opened and the toast slid into place so when I closed it the untoasted side would be next to the bare wires and it could be toasted.  In the meantime the dripolater magically sucked the boiling water up into the top of the pot.  I then turned it off and it magically let it come back down through the grounds again.  Time elapsed making breakfast...5 minutes.
I was allowed to put the dishes in a dishpan and set them under the sink to wait for evening.  Great grandmother had a sandwich for me at noon and I could add those dishes to the pan.  When I came home from school I immediately put the kettle on to heat the water to do the dishes.  Those being done and put away in the cupboard, I then went outside to water the plants.  Sometimes I stole a leaf of mint off the big mint plant and chewed it.
You should know that the 85 year difference in great grandmother and myself was most evident in my schooling.  She was very strict and very set in her ways.  I was not allowed to read books for enjoyment.  If I had time to read, I must read the Bible.  Every evening I read to them for at least an hour.  What we read was never discussed.  It was the holy gospel and that was that.  Never question and interpret the way she said.  Needless to say, I got a goose egg for a book report.  Mother explained that one to the principal  and while he understood, a book report was required.  So I gave him a synopsis of the Holy Bible.  Kept me from flunking.
For fun she taught me to crochet.  She gave me a hook and a ball of thread and I started the world's longest chain.  Every night after supper, we would set in our chairs and "take up" our needle work.  I will say this...I made some beautiful doilies under her watchful eye.  If it wasn't correct, it was ripped out and the mistake corrected and done over.  Guess that was where I got this perfectionist attitude I deal with today.  Damn!
My introduction and education into matters of sex education took place one afternoon when great grandmother was at the outhouse.  Grandma said, "Have you started your woman thing yet?"  Since I had no idea what she was talking about I said, "No" and she replied, "When I did, mama let me stay in bed all day."  I decided I sure wanted that to happen to me! 
When they needed groceries great grandmother would ring up Mr. or Mrs. Hinshaw at the store and she would tell them what she needed.  They would deliver it to the house.  Some times if it was just a loaf of bread or something small, she would tie the money in the corner of a handkerchief and I was sent to the store which was a block away, being trusted to remember what I wanted. I really felt like a big girl then!
Grandma used a walker and the only time she got to get out of the house was to go to the doctor.  But she was so sweet.  Her smile would melt the heart of the devil himself.  I am so glad I got to spend the little time with her that I did.

Next time I pop in here I am going to tell you how this chapter of my life played out.  So stay tuned.

 

 

 

************************************************************************ This is the novel I have for sale on Amazon. Do not be confused by the title. Chapter One simply means this is my first book. There may never be another, or there may be many more. I am very proud of this endeavor and guarantee you will enjoy the book in it's enirety. Lou Mercer

From the back cover

Chapter One...Loose Ends
Lou Mercer

Meg Parker led a simple life.  She was a widow of three years and lived on a chicken farm at the foot of the mighty Rockie Mountains.  Life was good and her little store on eBay made her extra spending money.  But snow and wildlife were not the only things lurking in the forest above her house.  Nor did it stay in the forest for long.

Marshall Purcell came home a wounded veteran from vietnam.  He still had his dreams, but they were of an incestuous past that threatened to consume him.

When Meg and Marshall met it seemed an inconsequential meeting, but it changed both their lives forever.  And change is not always a good thing.

This is adult fiction at its best without all the sex.  Well, maybe just a little bit. 

About the author.  Lou Mercer was born in Nickerson, Kansas. She came to Pueblo, Colorado in 1977 and is now a product of the majestic Rockie Mountains

The roots of my raisin' run deep!

This is the top shelf of my computer desk.  I managed to click this photo while Icarus, the devil cat, was on break.  Starting with the big picture in back on the left is Mother.  Then Uncle Charlie, Uncle Frank, Uncle Ray, and Aunt Lola on the end.  This is probably the last picture of all of them together.  This is actually the only picture I know of that has all the 5 in a group.  And now that I think about it, I do not know if there is a formal picture like this of my siblings.  There is a picture somewhere of us 5 girls, but Jake was not in it.  So it would not have been complete.  And we were setting in the kitchen of Dorothy's house when she was married to Ernie and they lived out o 4th Street in Hutchinson.  Course Jake and Josephine are no longer with us so a picture is completely out of the question.
I will tell you about the other pictures and then come back and tell you about my Aunt and Uncles.  The small picture on the left is mom and dad, before they were mom and dad.  You know, back when they were Christine and Rueben Bartholomew.  This is their wedding snapshot, I think.  The picture on the right is mother's high school yearbook picture.  And of course the little angel in the back would be me!  That frame is now 69 years old.  I should sell it on eBay, but I want to keep it, so I will.  I always get what I want!
Now to the family picture.  Most of you probably knew mother, but doubted the existence of any other relatives.  The first is Uncle Charlie Haas.  He was married to Aunt Edith and they lived in Missouri.  Independence, I think.  They had one daughter, Donna.  Donna was not well and could never live on her own.  One year when I lived with Grandma Haas and Great Grandma Hatfield, Uncle Charlie and Aunt Edith sent me a birthday card with a Silver Dollar in it with my birth year.  I damn near broke both legs getting to the general store and getting rid of that money.  Most money I ever had at one time in my life!  At one point Uncle Charlie bought land in Woodland Park, Colorado, and built a new house.  Unfortuneatly he could not live in the high altitude due to his high blood pressure and had to sell it.  Mother and I tried to find it once from his description, but had no luck.  Uncle Charlie died first, then Aunt Edith.  Donna spent her remaining days in a nursing home and passed about 5 years ago.
Uncle Frank married Aunt Lila and lived in Lawrence, Kansas for the duration.  He was a farmer and she was a school teacher.  They had no children.  I was always scared to death of Aunt Lila.  I do not know if it was because she was a teacher, or she just looked very intimidating to poor little me.  When they retired they bought a home on 30th street in Hutchinson, Kansas.  He worked on the old tube type radios and had an extensive collection.  When they could no longer function at home they moved to assisted living in McPherson where they lived until he died and then her.  Mom and I used to go visit and it was so sad.  Uncle Frank was very hard of hearing and had dementia towards the end. The last time we were there he was setting at the desk tearing magazine pages into one inch squares and piling them very neatly.  He smiled at mother with the sweetest smile I have ever seen on a living human being.  He asked her what her name was and she replied "Christine."  His eyes lit up and he said, "Oh, I used to have a sister named Christine!"  At this mother lit up also.  "Why Frank!  It is me!"  He looked at her and you could see the wheels turn and he added. "Oh, no, she died a long time ago."  Of course mother was crushed.  Uncle died soon after that visit.  He was 90 something.
Uncle Ray was the most wonderful man in the world and I shall not try to tell you about him in this post, but will save him for a special time.
The lady on the end was Aunt Lola.  Aunt Lola was married to Alvin Farney and they lived near Plevna, Kansas and of course, were farmers.  They had one son, Carl, and 3 daughters, Alvina, Rosetta, and Marilyn. Marilyn had a very high fever when she was about a year old.  It did brain damage and disfigured her face.  But she was a wonderful girl and helped Aunt Lola keep house and cook.  Aunt Lola died younger than most of her brothers.  See, in our family we live to be 100 years old with amazing regularity.  Good genes and all.  Mom was 80 and that was very young.  So, the kids of Aunt Lola are my cousins and the only ones I actually know/knew.  I am afraid I did not keep up with them.  I do know Alvina and Rosetta married and had children.  Josephine used to keep me up on that stuff, but alas, no more.
When mother used to tell me tales and the grandmother and great grandmother would remember the good old days, I did not listen.  In one ear and out the other, so to speak.  So now here I set and have no clue.  We do have a genealogy book that traces our family roots back to Germany to the 1500's.  I love to read the stories and am absolutely fascinated by what those pioneers went through to bring this squalling little brat into the world.  Stop and think.  If one thing had been different, I would not be here.  It is all in the grand scheme of things.  Everything that transpired all those years ago led to this day and this hour.
Think about it.  My roots run very deep, but they are no different than your roots!  Have a good one!

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Well, what shall we write about today? Aunt Lena!

Yesterday I went to the dentist and I am now able to say I know exactly what Mother meant when she whacked me upside the head and told me to quit opening bottles with my teeth.  Wish she would have told me what would happen if I continued using them for a pair of pliers, but she didn't.  And of course the trip across town rendered the usual idiot that passed me on the left, cut in front of me to get to the right turning lane and then swerved back when he finally figured out which way was left while all the while keeping that damn cell phone firmly attached to his ear!  We seem to not have any laws concerning that sort of thing as "Johnny Law"  remained unperturbed behind me.  I thought about tapping my brakes to wake him up, but I know how my luck runs and I do not need a husband named Sally at this point in my life.
So that is what I intended to write about today, but when I woke up I had Aunt Lena on my mind.  Now I do not have a picture of her and Sister Donna is not awake yet, but I can see her as clearly in my mind as if she were standing right here in front of me. 
Aunt Lena was born to Johann Jakob Haas and Maria Dorothea Schrade (nee) on May 6, 1893.  She was given the name Magdalena Haas.  This was in keeping with the name Maria Magdalena, a daughter born to his first wife in Dettingen, Germany who was born in 1874 and passed in 1876 at the tender age of 1 year and 10 months. ( This was common to rename a new baby for one that had not survived.)  Aunt Lena was the 12th of 13 living children born to Johann Jakob.  Two children had died in infancy.  Prolific old fellow if you get my drift.  ;)
The Haas family settled in near Plevna, Kansas.  Now some how this gets very confusing.  The Gagnebin family lived near Abbyville, Kansas.  Helen Gagnebin married Frank Miller.  They had two daughters, Josie and Helen, and  one son,  Lewis Miller.  At some point in time Helen and Frank Miller wound up living next door (within a mile of each other.) to the Haas Family.  At that juncture my grandfather, Christoph Adam Haas (from Great Grandfathers first wife deceased)  in Germany married Josie Emma Miller in 1900.  She became my grandmother.  Seven years later Gottlieb Haas (Who replaced Gottlieb Haas who had only lived 7 months and died the year before Uncle Goll was born.) married her sister, Mabel Helen Miller.  All of these children are double cousins.  When Uncle Lou Miller cast his eyes on Magdalena Haas, Great Grandmother  came un wound and said "No!  Too many Haas's have married too many Miller's!"  Back in those days children actually listened to thier parents, so Lou and Lena were not married.  Uncle Lou later married a lady named Eva.  Aunt Lena never married.  She remained in Plevna and I think she took in sewing and cleaning and laundry.  I am sure she never worked at a job, per se, but she managed to be self sufficient.  I know she rented rooms to "old maid school teachers", but we never called her an old maid.  No way!  She was just Aunt Lena who was not married. 
But she was great!  I remember going to her house which was a block or so from Grandma Haas.  Aunt Lena kept a stock tank there full of water and let us kids get in it in the summer when it was hot.  Course we wore our clothes, but that was the fun part; letting them dry on us when it was really hot!  My first taste of air conditioning.  Her house had two or three bedrooms and was very simple.  Every where was crocheted doilies and table cloths; the same as grandma's house.   I recall the porch and the Lilac bushes all over her yard.  When I smell Lilac's in the yard now, I am transported to Plevna, Kansas and my dear Aunt Lena.  I do not think she ever painted her house.  Seems like it was always old gray bare wood.
She had an old car, which was probably new at the time and sometimes she would take us for a ride in the country.  If we spotted a creek she would whip that old Packard (?) over and we would leap out and climb the fence.  Aunt Lena knew how to pull the front of her skirt between her legs and tuck the tail in the waist band.  This made us wear pantaloons!  We did not dare to get that muddy water on our clothes or we would have been punished.
A funny thing I remember about Aunt Lena was the way she talked.  She never opened her mouth.  It was like her teeth were stuck together.  I'm sure they came apart because she had to eat, but not necessary to talk.  Aunt Lena was never sad, nor happy.  She would tell stories of the old days.  She knew every family member and what they were doing and when they had a new baby and everyone's birthday and where anyone with a drop of Haas blood in thier viens was at any given point in history.  I guess she was the family Historian.  She was my grandfathers sister and since I never knew grandpa she would tell me things about him.  I do not remember the stories, but I remember her saying "Your grandpa."  Never called him by name, just my grandpa.  I do wish I had known him.
Her and Aunt Mable made me a quilt and hand quilted it when Duane and I had been married for 5 years.  They made a quilt called Postage Stamp.  It probably had a million tiny squares and it was so pretty and the stitches were so tiny.  To this day I do not know where it went, but I do know where it isn't.  I think someone stole it when I was in Garden City, Kansas.  It was one of those now you see it and now you don't things.  I remember putting it away in a very safe place in our apartment on Jenny street.  And then it was just no more.
Aunt Lena was tall, or so it seemed.  Back when I was 4 feet tall everyone was tall.  And I remember Aunt Lena was so wrinkled.  I mean her face.  Maybe it was a combination of the hot Kansas wind and the farm life and maybe it was just my imagination.  Or it could be that when I lived with grandma Haas in 1955, Aunt Lena was 63 years old.  But she was the same wrinkled when she died in 1994 at the age of 101.  She lived alone in her home until just shortly before her death.  As I recall some kind soul had made arrangements for Meals on Wheels to deliver food to her on a daily basis.  That did not last long as she couldn't eat tha stuff.  One thing the Haas family is famous for is cooking.  And cook we do.  We use cream, butter, bacon, yeast and when a meal hits the table there are no boxes in the trash.  Kind of hard to eat institutional food after doing it yourself for 90+ years.  I know for supper every night she had popcorn.  Dry, I think.  But sometimes she put milk on it.  Popcorn is a staple here at my house, but it is just an occasional snack, not a meal!
The last time I seen Aunt Lena was at the family reunion that used to be every September in Plevna, Kansas at the high school gymnasium.  That was all that was left was the gym.  Aunt Lena was there and she must have been about 98.  Earl Boyd was also there.  He was a second cousin by marriage or something.  I will have to research that.  (And I will because there is another story to tell.)  Earl was probably 85 or so, but he had macular degeneration and could barely see.  Aunt Lena and Earl were visiting and I over heard there conversation.
"Lena, I would love to go see the old home place, but I don't have a car.  Do you have a car?"
"Yes, Earl, I have my car and it runs good, but I do not drive that far. (The home place was 4 miles away, but you had to cross highway 50.) Can you drive?"
"Well, yeah, but I can't see.  I am blind. But I can drive.  Can you see?"
"Yes, I can see really well, but I just can't drive."  Then Earl had a brilliant idea.
"I can drive and you can direct me!  We will have to go very slow cause if we wind up in the ditch we will be in big trouble!   I don't have a license any more and they would give me a ticket."
Then they both fell into silence and sat there a few minutes before Earl said "This old age sure ain't what it is cracked up to be."  Then they both chuckled and I could not help but smile.
But it is sad.  I told them the next time I made it to town (and at that point I always took Earl with me) I would round them up and go wherever they wanted to go.  But of course time and tide wait for no man and that never happened.  I never saw Aunt Lena again, but how lucky I am to have my memories.