Acerca del autor: María, una nativa de Kentucky escribe en su propio estilo sobre su vida y toda la diversión y el trabajo duro para crecer en una pequeña granja al sur de Bardstown, KY a orillas del río Rolling Fork. Sus poemas e ilustraciones recuerdan a sus hermosos padres que trabajan duro y a la gran familia feliz con la que creció. Mary está jubilada y actualmente vive en Fort Thomas, KY, donde pasa tiempo con sus hijos y diez nietos.

By The Banks of the Ole Rolling Fork

By Mary Sue Holbert

AuthorHouse

Copyright © 2011 Mary Sue Holbert
All right reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4634-2310-0

Chapter One

Early Childhood Days

May 10, 1943 on a hot, sultry summer morning, I was born to Mary Amanda and David Bernard Holbert. Dave, as most everyone called him, had been tossing and turning unable to sleep sit on the front parch where it was probably ten degrees cooler. The little white frame house had only three rooms, a kitchen, living room and one bedroom. The house sat at the front of the small twelve acre farm facing Lyons Station Road. It was a small L shaped home with a front porch that bordered the kitchen and living room. The bedroom was in the back of the house and there was hardly any air circulating at all since it was so humid and close that day. The Rolling Fork river ran about four hundred feet due west along the bottom land of the little farm and when it wasn't so hot you could open the windows at night or early in the morning and always feel a quiet breeze passing through that kept the rooms nice and cool until around twelve or one o'clock each day. The farm was located in New Haven, Kentucky, a small country town of about seven hundred people at that time. New Heaven sets about twelve miles south of My Old Kentucky Home in Bardstown, Ky

Dawn was just approaching And when Dave finally went out on the porch to sit in his old green and white lawn chair, he had only been sitting there for just a few minutes when he heard Mandy call for him. "Dave I expect you need to go on down and get Dr. Greenwell. I feel like I will probably deliver this baby sometime today." Sure enough almost as soon as Dr J.I. Greenwell and his nurse Eileen Dawson got there around 5:30 a.m. I was born. Dr. Greenwell always brought his nurse, Eileen, with him to help with the delivery. I remember her so well from when Donald and Ronald were born. Dave went down to his brother, Elmer's, (Preacher) Holbert, to see if Aunt Rhoda could come down and stay with mama until he could get miss Lee to help out for a week or so. Aunt Rhoda was always glad to help, especially with a newborn baby.

Elmer and Rhoda lived up on Main Street about the third house down on the far right from the left of the corner of Lyons Station Road and Main Street heading north. Gene Hutchens and his brother, Conrad lived in a big white house on the left hand corner. They had lots of maple trees and apple trees in the back that we all loved to climb and pick rotten apples from and throw them at each other when we were young.

On the left next to Gene Hutchens lived Martin and Lucille Mahoney. "Aunt Lucille as most everyone called her, worked as a postal clerk in the Post Office downtown on Main Street. Martin worked on their farm on the outskirts of town. Next to them on the left was the beautiful home of Mr. and Mrs. Raphael Bowling. Just like my own mother and father, they were very productive people. Nine girls and two boys. Let me see now if I can remember all of their names like I use to. I should be able to, as I lived half my life up there visiting with my best friends, Janie and Fran. O.K. here goes, first was a son, Thomas (Tommy) Brown Bowling, named, I assume after Mrs. Bowling's brother, Tom, and given her maiden name, Brown. Mr. and Mrs. Bowling were both, I believe, originally from New Hope, Ky. Another son, Joseph Raphael, (Joe), who grew up to be a doctor. Then came the long string of girls. Nine to be exact. First was Sarah Catherine who joined the Ursaline Sisters of Mount Saint Joseph, Ky. Then there was Agnes Mary and Jane Carolyn, then Frances Ann who was my best friend. Then came Lucille Burch and Louise Marie Followed by Elizabeth (and for the life of me I cannot remember her middle name), but then Martha Virginia and lastly Nancy Mariam. At any rate there was eleven children in all. The Bowlings were a really beautiful family and I have so many wonderful, fond memories of all of them. Mrs. Bowling, especially was always so kind and friendly. When I walked through the door to visit with Fran, she would always greet me with a big smile and say. "Well there's sweet little Mary Sue," which I think now looking back, that it must have wishful thinking on her part, because, believe me, I was anything but sweet, especially when I was a kid. I may have gotten a little sweeter over the years, but never the less, it always made me feel good when I heard her say that.

Then right across the street from the Bowlings lived my Uncle Elmer and Aunt Rhoda, who had four children. Margaret who married Bill Cundiff who lived right next door to them on the left. Mary Ann who married, and resided in Levington. Joe Elmer and Paul who both lived in Lyons Station, Ky. On the left of Bill and Margaret lived Pete and Ada Wimsett. Mrs. Wimsett knew everything about everybody in New Haven, and then some. And was she ever a big talker. She could make anyone laugh by her cackling and talking about only Heaven knows what. I can remember sitting in her front porch swing with her one summer when I was about eight or nine years old and how she would spit the juice from her snuff into a little can. I could never understand how she liked that stinky stuff but she must have because she used it a lot. A good ole piece of Penny bubble gum to blow bubbles with made a lot more sense to me. As a matter of fact one day she asked me to see how big of a bubble I could make for her. So I blew one for her, that was almost the size of a basketball. Not quite that big but when it finally popped it covered my whole face. My eye lashes, bangs and even my spit curls got caught in it. Did we ever laugh and have fun over that.

Next to the Wimsetts was an Open field we sometimes played Ball in when I was around twelve or thirteen years old. Next to the field lived our only hometown policeman, Mr. Ned Bell Johnson. Next to Ned Bell lived old Mrs. Smith who suffered from St. Vitas dance all her life. Her front Porch faced our parish church, Saint Catherines, which sat on a big lot right across the street from the Christian cemetery that butted up against the front fields of our property. Then going back down. Main Street headed south, on the right, lived Mr. and Mrs. Charles Cecil. Charles worked for Mr. Bowling down at the Marathon Station on the Corner of 1st street. Mabel was my godmother at my Baptism. They had two daughters that I played with a lot when I was very young, Mary Ann and Charlotte. They also had a daughter, Agnes Mary, that was a good friend of my younger sister, Nancy. Then Denise who was close friends with my youngest sister, Martha Anne. And Edward who played a lot With my younger brothers. Later on they moved further down on Main Street during the middle fifty's into a big white house right next to another good friend of mine, Lois Wimsett. Lois and Eddie's home originally belonged to her. Greenwell, where he had his office on one side and lived on the other side. It was beautiful after Lois worked and re-did all the floors and woodwork. Lois and I were in the same class all through grade and high school. Her birthday fell on May 7th and mine was on May 10th. I had another close friend who I later roomed with when I worked in Louisville, Jean Marie Barry, whose birthday was on May 11th. Jean Marie lived down On Main Street in between the Hagans and where Lois lives Now in Do. Greenwells old home. She lived there until she was Nine or ten years old as best I can remember, then they built a home on the outskirts of town out by the first white bridge going south toward Athertonsville on a little side street named, Mapi Court. It was funny how we Were all born so close together, and then later on how close we became while growing up together.

It must have had something to do with us having the same zodiac sign which is Taurus. Lois, Jean Marie and I use to harmonize together all the time when we were teenagers. We had a pretty good little sounding trio, if I have to say so myself. Our favorite song to harmonized to was "Bye Bye Love", by the Everly Brothers. One other favorite that we sang a lot was, "Ok Baby Mine," by the Statter Brothers.

Getting back to some of the layout of Main Street back in the late forty's and early fifty's, right next door to the Cecils lived Mrs. Annie Walker. Next to her lived Charlie Cecil's mother who was just known as and referred to as Mrs. Cecil. Next to her lived Mr and Mrs. Fred O'Bryan, and then on the corner of Lyons Station Road and Main Street across from Gene Hutchens lived Mr. and Mrs. Ekro Rapier. Mr. Rapier was President of the Bank of New Haven. That pretty much covers the first block of Main Street, then you would make a left on Lyons Road and our little house was the only home on Lyons Station Road between the corner and the bridge. Lyons Station Road was just and old dirt road until the mid-fifthy's when the State Highway Dept. poured rock over the dirt which actually created more of a dust problem than what already existed. There was an old iron bridge That span the river just below Our bottom land. We use to walk down to the bridge in the summertime and throw rocks out into the water just to see how far we could throw them and to see who could make them skip the most out across the water.

New Haven was a really quiet little town when I was growing up. Everyone went to bed with the chickens and we literally got up when we heard the ole rooster start to crow. As a matter of fact, we didn't even own an alarm clock. It wouldn't have done any good since We didn't have electricity at that time. Our lighting was from coal oil lamps, and we drew water from the well in the back.

We most generally got up at day break. Daddy would get up around 4:30 and take Billy with him out to the farm to help feed and milk the cows while mother and I would start cooking breakfast. We had an old warm oven wood Stove with a reservoir at one end that kept hot water in it to wash dishes with. She made homemade buttermilk biscuits every day along with fried eggs, sausage, county ham, and gravy. It was always so delicious.

Then after breakfast came the real fun. When I got old enough to help out in the kitchen, it was my job to clear the table and wash the dishes. Since we sold milk to neighboring families, we had to strain the milk first, then run it through a separator that separated the cream from the milk of course all the tiny funneled disk used to separate it, had to be washed and dried separately. Then the milk was bottled in quart bottles and thin round cardboard cups were snapped on top. After all the milk was put in wire rocks and carried out to the wagon, daddy would set off on his daily journey to walk around the neighborhood to deliver the still warm fresh milk to all the young mothers and fathers with growing babies and toddlers that needed this soothing essential to help nurture their siblings. Sometimes after we got old enough, daddy would let me and Billy go with him and carry some of the bottles of milk or cream and set them on the front porches. He always cautioned us to be Careful and not drop them. Which brings to mind a very Unfortunate accident that happened When I got a little older and Delivering milk had lost its novelty. Mother ask me to walk a quart of milk up to Ned Bell Johnson's. I was busy playing in the yard so I talked my little sister, Nancy, who was only about five years old at the time and only about the size of a four year old, into delivering the milk for me. She was so tiny and small that when she went to climb up the steps to the house she fell and dropped the milk. When it broke a piece of the glass cut her throat very close to the jugular vein. It scarred me half to death, and I felt so bad about it because I knew it would never have happened if I had taken it up there myself. I also got a big switching for being disobedient. It seemed like she stayed after me all the time with a switch

I liked living on a farm with all the wide open spaces and going down to the river for a swim in the summer just to cool off. And trying to ride Ole Jack, the mule daddy had, to pull the plow with and that daddy absolutely forbade me to ride, but of course, I had to try to ride him anyway.

One day Fran came down to visit and wanted to ride Ole Jack with me. So, I bridled him up and we both jumped up on his back. But the minute he started to walk, Fran yelled, "Ok please make him stop, make him stop." It scarred her out of her wits. So, we didn't even get out of the barn lot til she gave up and I helped her off but I stayed on to ride by myself. But Ole Jack was pretty cantankerous About someone riding him so When we got out by the garden Which had barb-wire at the top of the fence around the field he started to run over real close along the side of it and my legs got all scraped and skinned up pretty badly. That scarred me a little and I had to hang on for dear life on the way back, because all of a sudden he started into a full gallop and when we got to the back of the farm door he just barrels or through the door with me still on his back. Luckily, I saw it all coming and grabbed a hold of the top of the doorway and then swung down to the ground while Ole Jack flew on into the barn. But if I hadn't thought so quickly I would have been knocked off completely backward and may have been seriously injured.

Growing up on a farm was a lot of fun but it was also a lot of work. Daddy was use to hard work though and he taught all my brothers the value of hard work. I feel like that is the reason for their success in life when they grew up.

Daddy was born on September 11, 1890. HE was a decedant from the family of Holbert's from Wiltshire, England, eight brothers and one Sister, Wilma, who died from typhoid fever at the age of five. They all lived on a small farm way up in the hills of Price's Creek. My grandparents were Rafe Holbert, born in May of 1860 and my grandmother, Mary Bell Holbert, born in January, 1868. My grandfather died at a very young age and daddy stayed home to help his mother raise his brothers and sisters and to tend the farm. There were eight children in the family including daddy. Dolor was the oldest, born in August, 1885. Elmer born in January, 1890. Rafe, Jr., born in October, 1895. Paul, born In February, 1898. Richard, born in April, 1899. Wilma, born in May, 1900. William, born in January. And daddy born in September, 1890. There was only nine months between Elmer, and my daddy.

Daddy served in the army in 1918. He was inducted at Fort Thomas, Ky and received an honorable discharge at Camp Knox, Ky. We received a certificate in honor of his memory and recognition of his devoted and selfless consecration to the service of our country in the Armed Forces signed by President John F. Kennedy in 1962. After he was discharged from the service he worked on a dairy farm up in Princeton New Jersey in Mercer County. He lived on the farm which was privately owned by John R. Ritchie. It was located at 111 Lowrence Rd. Mr. Kitchie was the owner and manager of the farm and boarded there. It was there on the dairy farm that he learned almost everything there is to know about cows and various other animals. He knew how to deliver a calf or colt which Billy and I witnessed many times. He also knew all about the different diseases cows can come down with suck as milk fever and paralysis, to name a few. He knew all about the complications of calving including "breach birth" and as a result of his learning and experience on the dairy farm up in New Jersey, he was known as the "cow doctor," in our hometown and in most of the county for a very longtime. He had a black bag that he kept furnished with needles, syringes and medicines to use when someone needed help with one of their cows or horses. He kept the bag way up high in a kitchen closet so none of us kids could reach it. I remember and time one of his best cows came down with paralysis and daddy tied a long string around her neck with a sacred heart badge attached to it hoping and praying that she would eventually pull through and live. But unfortunately the cow ended up dying. I believe that was one of the saddest times I ever saw daddy go through. He really hated to lose an animal no matter who it belonged to.

(Continues...)

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