The Left Handed Cannibal is the story of a common man who through uncommon desire and hard work made his dreams come true. From commando trailing in the Fijii Ilsands as a young man, to grafting mulberries on his Illinois farm during his middle years, to finishing his college degree at age 61, Myron Nixon lived an American success story that will never make the front pages but will endure because of its sincerity and warm simplicity.
The Left Handed Cannibal
The Life & Writings of Myron Stanley Nixon, 1919-2000By Joseph M. NixonAuthorHouse
Copyright © 2009 Joseph M. Nixon
All right reserved.ISBN: 978-1-4490-2471-0Contents
PREFACE..................................................................................viiDEDICATION...............................................................................ixACKNOWLEDGEMENTS.........................................................................xiINTRODUCTION.............................................................................xiiiI. AT THE OPTOMETRIST....................................................................1II. A TERRIBLE COLD PLACE (1863-1951)....................................................7Coming to America........................................................................12III. WAR STORIES (1941-1945).............................................................20Subject: Origin of Fijii Islanders (College years 1973-1980).............................23Anthropology of the Fijii Islanders: Mar. 11, 1974.......................................24The Left Handed Cannibal (Written July 31, 1997; setting 1942-1943?).....................28IV. THIS LAND IS MY LAND (1949-1950).....................................................35V. WHY PLANT THAT TREE, GRANDMA? (1950-1963).............................................42The Mulberry Eating Contest..............................................................47Man: the Seed Eater......................................................................50Why Plant That Tree, Grandma? (August 1970)..............................................51The Slick Robin..........................................................................53VI. DISCOVERING AN AUDIENCE: INTA, NAFEX, & THE POMONA (1960-1973).......................54Good Fruit, No Sweat, No Spray...........................................................57Better Mulberries for Wildlife...........................................................59Mulberry Propagation.....................................................................61Black Walnuts............................................................................63Improving Black Walnuts..................................................................65VII. SCHOOL DAYS - AGAIN (ca. 1973-1980).................................................66The Speech (1972)........................................................................75A Friend of My Friend....................................................................78Anthropology. October 9, 1973 (Examination)..............................................79ANTH 231. November 5, 1973...............................................................82Anthropology 232. Nov. 6, 1974 (Examination).............................................86Anthropology. November 26, 1974, (Examination)...........................................88Anthropology. May 6, 1974, (Examination).................................................91Marketing 131-N. June 30, 1976 (Mr. Krause)..............................................93Anthropology. Book Report, Mar 11, 1974..................................................94Anthropology. Book Report, March 26, 1974................................................95HUMN 132. Semester Project...............................................................96Principles of Horticulture. October 4, 1976, Mr. Greenwood...............................100Correspondence. Ronald J. Glossop November 14, 1979......................................102Education................................................................................103VIII. TOO SOON WE ARE OLD (1980-2000)....................................................107Hedge (March 1998).......................................................................111The Cake (May 2, 1997)...................................................................114The Quick Change (April 15, 1997)........................................................115Reading the Alton Telegraph (July 26, 1997)..............................................116Thomas (January 1998)....................................................................117The Smart Cat............................................................................118IX. ALL GRANDPA! ALL THE TIME!...........................................................119Memorial Service: Myron Stanley Nixon (October 19, 2000).................................122Correspondence, October 19, 2000 (Granddaughter Gwen)....................................123Heritage Manor "Hall of Fame"............................................................124Requiem for A Legacy?....................................................................126X. REFERENCES CITED......................................................................130Index....................................................................................131
Chapter One
AT THE OPTOMETRIST
One of the more difficult problems in assembling this manuscript has been accounting for my Father's life from approximately 1948-1949. Being born near the end of 1946, those were the days of my earliest childhood memories, when my two or three year old mind was just recognizing the advantages I might gain by remembering things. I have tried to organize events chronologically, to put things reasonably one before the other, in an effort at reconstruction.
Much the way the Optometrist might ask "Which is better, A or B", I looked at specific events and asked: Which was first? This involved isolating the earliest events, identifying their consequences, and moving through time searching for connections between one identifiable event and the next. The result was to place things into a hopefully representative time order reflecting fairly distinct phases of Dad's life. Generally these included the ancestry that preceded him, his home days as a boy, the coming of WWII and his military service, his discharge and landing a government job, their (with Mom) coming into the ownership of land, acquisition and improvements to their own home, having and raising children their way, and finally his attendance at college.
I made the decision to use this approach fully understanding that its basis is in events determined by Dad himself. It recognizes that in the flow of actual life, these changes may have been unconscious to him. He did not, for example, decide one day to culture blackberries, waking up and announcing "Today I am going to grow blackberries". Rather, the various stages of his life developed through unintentional expressions of his own personal interests exercised through his freedom of choice, in this case, leading to blackberries.
Using this approach, this narrative begins with a look at the origins of the families of both Mother (Opal Faye Long of Alton, Illinois) and Father (Myron Stanley Nixon of Chesterfield, Illinois). Unfortunately, no one in the family knows much about their early lives until they met, apparently right after his discharge from the military. Neither of them ever spoke freely of their initial meeting, told any stories about going to a picnic, or a party, or any significant courtship event. Despite repeated attempts, my sister and I managed to garner only a very sketchy understanding of their early days together. As a result, nearly all the story of their courtship is lost.
Fortunately, at the nagging insistence of my sister and me, Dad undertook to record the story of his parents and grandparents, of their beginnings in Croule (Crewell, Crewelle, other spp.?), Lincolnshire, England, and their trek across a cold ocean to a new country that promised land, opportunity, and prosperity. The text of this document which he titled Coming to America spans from October of 1863 until April of 1951.
Dad's account of this journey across the Atlantic is an interesting story on its surface. But within its lines - sometimes expressed and other times simply implied - are the lessons of his Grandmother and Mother that would shape his later development.
First there was the importance of land, critical both to these early immigrants from the Continent and to Dad once in possession of his own property. Second were the natural resources that abounded on the land if you knew where to look. Fruits, berries, nuts, all contributed to a diet gathered and processed by a protectively tight family unit, the third element of basic values linked directly to Dad's boyhood. This connectivity and closeness extended to others in his family as well as to other local families, expressed no more unselfishly than when relatives - who had nothing themselves - took in kinfolk and neighbors who had even less.
And much later - education. Dad's words recall the concerted efforts made by his Mother and Grandmother to absorb whatever they could from the limited educational opportunities offered in the one room, rural schoolhouses of the day. But with hard times, the need for labor during harvest periods, the perpetual quest for food, and other demands, the desire for education outstripped the opportunities. But the seed of desire so planted would bloom when opportunity finally arrived.
The value of land, the bounty of the resources it produced, the closeness of family and friends, and a genuine thirst for learning were central to the teachings of his boyhood. Whether he realized it or not, together these values shaped his attitude toward life. All are reflected in this short, but revealing, piece about family origins.
Chapter III dates to the period beginning in November 1941 when Dad joined the Army and extending about 1945 when the service discharged him. This short section, titled War Stories, contains several pieces written later in life that reflect his experiences while serving in the Army. These he wrote after the fact and not during his military service; he wrote them from his memories. Like so many other veterans of WWII, for years after separation from the military, Dad remained totally silent about his experiences. In his case, though, writing provided an outlet and he finally 'opened up' a little through the medium of written humor.
For her own unexpressed reasons, Mom also said little about her origins. On reflection, she shared Dad's dream of a place of their own. Having grown up with four sisters, she wanted a house that she could keep her own way and in which she could raise and nurture her own children, also her own way. Chapter IV, titled This Land is My Land, describes events in their lives from about 1949-1950 and focuses on their early years together when they acquired their property in Chesterfield and became - to their mutual and long awaited satisfaction - 'landed'. That shared dream did come true for them. The years of hard work, the unrelenting poverty, and the continuous day to day struggles they experienced, however, do not appear in any of his writings.
Living on their own property and in their own home, they launched into an improvement blitz that included both my younger sister and me, willingly or not. When I was a boy, I went through the usual dinosaur stage, fascinated by the bones of these giants illustrated in the (then) politically correct textbooks. I wondered how the world might have looked back then, the animals, the plants, the weather, the earthquakes, the mountains just growing ... But, if your parents subscribed to the Time-Life series, then like steaming hot chocolate plopped onto your bowl of already wonderful fudge ice cream, you also got the "artists rendition" of their appearance, their prey, their habits, their habitat, all of it - in full color. My mind could look at those images and see the creatures that lived, thought, ate, nested, hatched eggs, cared for their young, migrated, had life cycles - massive creatures that actually lived! When I looked at those illustrations my mind could see the living creatures.
Sometime later, when I was a teenager, I was shocked when I finally saw an actual life sized dinosaur skeleton in Vernal, Utah, at Dinosaur National Park. Shocked because I was unable to look at these dry, sterile, and lifeless bones and visualize a living creature in my mind as I had done with the Time-Life representations.
One of the fix up projects that Dad undertook shocked me similarly. I must have been five or so when, returning home from school one day and opening the front door, I saw nothing but stringers across the floor. Without a word of warning, Dad had removed everything that day. There was no insulation, no flooring, no floor covering, nothing but the dirt beneath the house staring up between the silent 2x10 sentinels. Like the ribs of the dinosaur, my mind could not connect the image of those bare boards and sterile earth to thoughts of a happy family sitting together in the evening listening to the radio. I could not see life represented by either those stark white dinosaur bones or the bare stringers across that floorless living room.
While we were doing various improvement projects inside the house, Dad was exploring the acreage. First, he removed dead and seriously ill plants, burning the residue frequently. As a family, we often roasted hot dogs and - of course - marshmallows around the brush fire as it burned down to its evening embers. Next, he planted in areas that, like his father before him, he cleared by hand (or hands, if you include mine). As things settled into a routine and time permitted, Dad began experimenting with local fruit and nut bearing plants including mulberries, black walnuts and pecans. No doubt the lessons of his Grandmother about the bounties of nature and respect for their source were at the basis of his efforts to increase the natural health of these plants and, thereby, their edible yields. Nonetheless, this began a lifelong interest of his in plant propagation and genetics which is explored in Chapter V, titled Why Plant That Tree? This period spanned from approximately 1950 to 1963.
Although initially based in practicality and survival, the experimental elements of his botanical passion now were free to develop. As people do in the rural Midwest, Dad began to talk to others with the similar interests. Soon the botanical skills he enjoyed so much began to improve; his local reputation began to accumulate, and; more and more often others sought his advice about plant related issues. His acumen at his hobby soon expanded his circle of acquaintances to include staff at the local universities, nursery men, and others even more physically distant. As their contact group expanded, it became increasingly clear that communication among often distant like-minded fellows required not only occasional meetings and discussions of mutual interests in person, but also expression of thoughts and experiences in the pages of the journals that spontaneously developed to foster communication within their membership. Chapter VI, which I call Discovering an Audience: INTA, NAFEX, & Pomona (1963-1973), focuses on this developing written network of people with similar interests.
Inspired by active participation in these organizations, by writing as a formal means of communication, and by two children who were as relentless as he was about going to school, he finally consented to take a college course. Chapter VII, School Days (Again), looks at his involvement in higher education for the next seven years, from acceptance to Lewis and Clark College in 1973 to graduation from SIU Edwardsville in 1980. Many of the narratives to follow come from his experiences at this time.
Now a college graduate with training and experience in writing, Dad was in a position to select his topics and to preserve in text those things he thought worth the effort. Chapter VIII, titled Too Soon We Are Old, reflects the period from 1980 to 2000. Although the output was not prodigious, it is some of his best work. Much of it, also, he wrote as reflections on earlier events in his life utilizing his now trained skills in writing.
The contents of Chapter IX, titled All Grandpa! All the Time! range across the calendar from the year 2000 to a more recent piece that harks back to his Pomona days. I provide the following table as a map that visually shows the sequencing of events in Dad's life. Again, the specific ordering was frequently decided by asking: Which was earlier, "A" or "B", and aligning things accordingly. I hope you have good glasses and can read the fine print. Otherwise, you better see an optometrist.
Chapter Two
A TERRIBLE COLD PLACE (1863-1951)
Through the years, my sister and I learned little about Mom and Dad's past, about their lives before they met, or even about their meeting. We know that Mom was from Alton, Illinois, and that she had four sisters: Ruth, Wilma (everyone knows her as "Wimp"), Thelma, and Bernice. She did share a few childhood stories with my sister who astutely noted that every memory of childhood that she (Mom) related, she did so in a laughing, happy manner. In spite of financial difficulties and seemingly poverty-level conditions, Mom remembers a happy childhood, always giggling when sharing anecdotes. Only the eyes of a child - Mom as a child - could look back at those lean days and selectively recall the memories that lit up her face as she joyfully relived them with my sister.
Later in life everyone in the family knew Reba Weimers, Mom's mother, as "Grammy". Few of us ever met her husband "Pappy"; to our group regret, he died when most of us were still young, many not yet born. Being only about three or so then, I have vague memories of a tall man in a dark business suit of the day. I remember sitting on his knee and fishing around in his coat pockets where he had always hidden a stick of Juicy Fruit which belonged to the most curious among the grandkids. I remember a kind man who tended - in retrospect with great reserve - to tolerate the often disruptive and sometimes destructive activities of children that visited them. Pappy Long had at least one brother, Bob, who has a role in this story later.
Grammy and Pappy raised these five girls in a small house in Alton. My sister, Gale, remembers one day when she and Mom actually drove by her old Alton home. It was not far from the apartment where Grammy lived toward the end of her life. Gale continues: Again, my memories are hazy, but I picture a very small one-story (not big enough to be referred to as a ranch), wood frame house situated at the bottom of a hill with a postage stamp front yard, surrounded by other similar houses.
My sister sarcastically reasons that it was inevitable that Mom would have a husband who belonged to the Nut Growers Association, as she had personal experience with walnuts as a teenager. Mom, Bernice, Thelma, Ruthie, Wimp, and at least one extra friend met in their one bathroom (remember the family consisted of Grammy, Pappy, and five daughters). They filled the sink with hot water and as many walnuts as they could gather and used the walnut-dyed water to darken their hair. Unanticipated problems included a black sink and walnut-stained hands.
Giggling on, Mom related further adventures in the Long household on Saturday night. Every Saturday afternoon, all five girls began arguing about who would wear which dress to complement their newly dyed walnut-stained coiffures to the dance that evening. Grammy and Pappy crammed all five girls into the back seat of their car and headed for the dance hall. Pappy lined up his girls in chronological order at the side of the dance floor to show them off, as he was very proud of them. He and Grammy then proceeded to dance the night away. At some point during the evening, all the girls joined the adults in circle dancing, swinging and swirling, laughing and bouncing. Pappy danced one dance with each daughter before the evening came to a close.
My sister continues with Mom's recollections. I am not sure if they had more than one bed for all five girls, because each of them shared stories about all five of them sleeping in one bed, three at the top, and two at the bottom. They often had one or more friends spending the night with them in the one bed. When Thelma invited a plump friend to a sleepover, the other four ousted them to the floor. They attempted to make a policy that they would only invite skinny friends over for the night.
When my sister and I were children, all of Mom's sisters and their families lived in or around Alton with the exception of Thelma who moved to Florida some time earlier. From the family farm in Chesterfield, Alton was a forty five minute drive. Grammy lived near Alton most of her life. Paul Weimers, her last husband, was a dairy farmer from Bethalto, Illinois; he was deceased when she died. When we were small, our family frequently made the short journey to visit both Grammy and Paul and Mom's sisters and their families who remained in Alton; we took family outings.
Dad had two sisters, Ruby and Melba, both of whom spent most of their lives in the Godfrey and nearby Wood River and Bethalto, Illinois, area. Together with Alton, these communities constituted the major settlement on the Illinois side of the Mississippi River across from the St. Louis metro area. It also took about forty five minutes to get to their homes from Chesterfield and they were all in the same direction, frequently turning what was to be a simple family outing into a pan-family visiting bonanza.
(Continues...)
Excerpted from The Left Handed Cannibalby Joseph M. Nixon Copyright © 2009 by Joseph M. Nixon. Excerpted by permission.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.