CHAPTER 1
FAMILY
SOUL SEARCHING
In a quiet cemetery
On a lonely country road
Rests a group of my ancestors
That endured the days of old
They settled near the Fabius
Purchased tracts of timber land
To clear for farms and homesteads
With sons and neighbors to lend a hand
The frontier life was difficult
Sometimes heartbreak took its toll
When they had to lay a child to rest
Hoping Heaven would find its soul
Many more children were buried here
As years passed, the settlers too
Anderson's married into other clans
And the number of headstones grew
Downing, Greenley, Hendren
Are the names upon these graves
At one end a row of unmarked stones
Where they buried loyal slaves
In the center a tall Cedar grows
Deeply rooted in the ground
Branching out like the tree of my family
Lying still and silent now
If they could speak and tell me
Of the past, their tales untold
I might compare them with who I am
As I watch my life unfold.
TRUE GRIT AND MUSH
They say our ancestors were tough ones, had True Grit and lived through strife. That theyounger generations are as soft as Mush and live a very pampered life.
How did they handle a typical day? Well, let us just compare. From a simple task like fixingbreakfast, to the time they combed their hair!
The rooster crows at Five A.M. and gets me up and out the door into the rain to bring in wood for thestove. Stack it on the floor and then get the fire started. Back outside and over to the smokehouse tocarve a slab of bacon and over to the chicken coop to gather a dozen eggs. Don't forget to milk thecow on the way and get some coffee beans to grind from the storeroom. Add wood to the fire and grindcoffee beans, mix up biscuit dough, cut up bacon and fix with eggs.
Breakfast served at 10:00 A.M.. Clean up the dishes later or you will not be finished in time to startfeeding the chickens. Gather laundry for a trip with the washboard to the creek to scrub and then hangthe heavy overalls on the line. Be sure to remember to put on a pot to boil for starch while you aremending a few pair of ripped pants. Ooops, we are almost out of candles, so need to pour some meltedtallow in the molds so we can have light to read by tonight.
Then the greens need to be soaked and pies baked for supper before you can start thinking about whatto have for lunch. It is time to bake bread again as we are getting low and the dogs are still barking fortheir morning meal and it is1:00 P.M. Peel the apples for the pies and feed the dogs the apple peelingswith leftover bacon grease to keep them happy for a while until you get a chance to clean up thebreakfast dishes so they can have the scraps.
Oh my, I just passed the mirror in the bedroom and saw that I have not even combed my hair yet today.Make the beds and get out the long underwear to mend while the pies are baking. If hubby comeshome from town where he went to sell a hog, I guess I can toss him some apple peelings to keep himpacified until I can fix his lunch. Oh, what was that? Sounds like the baby is crying again. I guess Iforgot to warm its bottle this morning and feed it after I milked the cow!
Come to think of it, as I recall the pail full of milk is still out in the barn as I had my hands full of bacon andeggs. Oh well, by this time I am ready to feed him some oatmeal for lunch. The hogs need to be fed nowso I will comb my hair later as it is still raining outside. The overalls are getting wet on the line so nowI have to lug them in and hang these dripping things from the rafters to dry. Stoke up the stove again.
By now I need more firewood and it is still wet when I bring it in. I am really disgusted as the pies burnedwhile I was out getting more wood and checking on the hogs and so I toss the apple peelings and theburned pies out the window to the hogs and the dogs and hope this will count for their supper. Mendingby hand takes a long time and it is now 5:00 P.M..
Hubby still is not home yet so I just fix a pot of beans with bacon and mix up some cornbread. Heprobably stopped at the neighbor's farm on the way home to check that crooked wheel that is alwaysfalling off of the wagon.
The cows need to be called in now as it is getting dark and coyotes are around. I need to feed the babyagain. Thank goodness it stopped raining. I just remembered, I forgot to eat my own lunch today andstill have not cleaned up the breakfast dishes.
Hubby arrives back home at 9:00 P.M. as he stopped at the neighbors for supper. He smelled burnedpies on the way home and made a U turn over to the next farm. His clothes were all gritty when he camein as the wagon wheel broke and tossed him in a mud puddle. His clothes will need to be soaked buthe will need to take a bath in the washtub first. But the firewood is low again from all the cooking and itis too dark to go down to the creek for more water. Anyway the washtub is still down at the creek full ofdirty diapers that I forgot to wash this morning. Have to do them tomorrow as I am running behind. It isnow 10:00 P.M.. I am really tired so I guess I won't read much tonight and I am not going to bother tocomb my hair before turning in and hubby will have to take his bath in the creek tomorrow, I sure hopeit doesn't rain anymore tonight as I would sure like the wood to dry out so I can heat up the stove to boilwater for tomorrow. Sigh............... What a day!
The automatic alarm on Mr. Coffeemaker wakes me up at 7:00 A.M. with the smell of a freshly brewedpot. I get up, put on my robe and open the Coffemate jar. I find the Sizzlean in the refrig to nuke in themicrowave, put the pop tarts in the toaster while opening a can of frozen orange juice. Then scramblesome eggs and clean up the pan. Breakfast served at 7:30 A.M. Get the kids out the front door withlunch money and snacks to wait by the mailbox for the school bus. Let the dog out back and then I headback inside for a leisurely bubble bath. Then blow dry my hair and dress and flip the remote to catch the8:00 A.M. morning news update before heading out to the mall to shop till I drop. I am sure to pack agranola bar for my mid-morning snack after my 10:00 A.M. exercise class. Stop by the cleaners on myway home from the library and pick up McDonald's for lunch. Do three loads of laundry in the washerand dryer and hang up the permanent press in all the closets. Then it is time for the 2:00 Soap Operasthat continue till 4:30. Pick up the kids from ball practice and head home with rented movies from thevideo store and the free Pizza you get with the movies as it is too hot to cook tonight. 7:00 P.M. andafter homework and supper, I put in the video movie and can hardly pick up the remote as I am sooootired. Whew................. What a day!
That night Modern Miss was awakened in her bed
There was a haggard old spirit floating overhead
That said:
BOO HOO HOO – POOR LITTLE YOU!
THE ICE CREAM MAN WITH RHYTHM
The Ice Cream Man with Rhythm
Came cruising down my street one day
The clanging of his clear brass bell
Could be heard three blocks away
Clang, Clang, Clang Clang (slow)
Ding, Ding, Ding, Ding, Ding (fast)
So catchy was that rhythm
The way his bell would ring
He was probably out of high school
And a part time ice cream man
Then moonlighted as a drummer
Of a local hard rock band
Other drivers seemed monotonous
No creative sense of tune
I would tire of hearing them
By the first weekend in June
I used to dread these peddlers
Selling tinted flavored ice
In the flimsy paper wrappers
For their inflated price
Always on the traveled route
To arrive at supper time
I'd grit my teeth, resent these creeps
Who made my children whine
I guess that I have mellowed
As the years have passed
My children grown and married
Kids of their own at last
Now I'm "toe tappin" curbside
With change purse in my hand
Next to my toddler grandchild
Who awaits the ice cream man
When my grandmother, at age 3 months, was kidnapped by an old Gypsy woman behind theirhome on Osceola and Broadway around the time of the St. Louis World's Fair, and recoveredby the neighbor, the story was told over and over to family and children and grandchildren ofthe next generations. I was particularly interested in hearing it directly from my grandmotherherself as she described how her older siblings told her how they all ran screaming after thecaravan with the neighbor man in his wagon following behind to help the family with the rescueas my great grandfather was still at work in St. Louis. I used to try to imagine why an oldgypsy woman would want to kidnap a small baby girl and my thoughts led me to write the "OldTraveler" and Marietta".
Who was the: "small girl child recovered" from the gypsy caravan at age 3 months.
When my grandmother was a small baby, the family lived in a small house on Osceola and Broadwayin South St. Louis. There was a vast meadow in back of the row of small houses in this neighborhood.A creek next to a trail beyond the grassy area was a thoroughfare for Gypsy Caravans as they rolled byin the evenings. They were heading west after work in the city.
The St. Louis World's Fair was planned for 1904. Many manual laborers were needed and were hiredfrom these traveling gypsy bands in the years before the Fair. My Great Grandmother had warned herolder children not to leave anything outside the house after they finished their chores because it mayvanish, taken by gypsies overnight.
One pleasant fall day my Great Grandmother placed her youngest child, a 3 month old baby girl (mygrandma ) in her bassinet on the screened back porch to finish her nap while she went back in thekitchen to prepare supper. The older children played in front and things were quiet in the back of thehouse, until Grandma heard a tapping at the back door. She greeted an old gypsy woman who hadgone down the back of the row of houses begging for handouts and looking for work. Great Grandmahad no work, but offered to share some things and went back inside to see what she could find. Backon the porch the baby was missing and she screamed. The children playing in front ran after the womanwho was making her way far across the field with the baby in her arms. One of the older children gotthe neighbor to help in the chase with his horse and wagon. The children all jumped in the back andtook off yelling as they closed in on this band of thieves.
My grandmother was taken back home safely and the Caravan slowly rode off toward the sunsetwith no further incident. I was always intrigued by this story as I tried to imagine why an old womanwould want to steal an infant. The last few verses of "An Old Traveler" are what I thought the reasoncould be. Maybe a plan to train the girl to dance for trinkets as a source of income for the tribe, asit was a tradition passed down through generations of European Gypsy bands. Whatever wishesshe had for my grandmother were not followed through. But the future generations of daughters andgranddaughters were intrigued by the world of dance and all started at a young age and continuedperforming and teaching dance in many forms throughout their lives.
The poem "Marietta" is what I imagined my grandmother would have grown up to be like if the Gypsywoman would have escaped and traveled far out of reach of the family that day. My grandmother grewup a very beautiful woman with brown eyes and dark flowing hair. She could have passed for a Gypsyif she would have been raised in their world. My mother, also with dark hair, was an Adagio dancer atage 15 and performed on the stage of the Fox Theatre on Grand Avenue in St. Louis. . She taught Tapand Ballet at the Lion's Den in Kirkwood Missouri on Saturday mornings for many years beginning atage 15. Later she attended William Woods College where she instructed students in dance, acrobatics,marching drill teams, gym classes and team sports. My mother continued teaching dance in manyforms into middle age. My sister and I also grew up dancing and I branched off into Middle EasternDance and later, Roller Skate Ballroom dancing and was a member of an Ice Dance Ensemble. Mydaughter and two nieces, now grown, were also active in dance, performing at young ages.
AN OLD TRAVELER
They came from many countries
To journey to this land
Across the great Atlantic
to travel west in bands
Their wagons rolled across the plains
They trailed the creeks and streams
Camping for a night or two
then following their dreams
A crafty breed they proved to be
Making do with what they had
But pilfering their other needs
by sending out a young lad
Approaching a large city
beyond the river wide
In hopes of finding work for some
once on the other side
A World's Fair was coming
In the many months ahead
The work these hearty men could do
would keep this large group fed
They settled near the Fairgrounds
but grew restless with the pace
Moving further out each week
In search of open space
In back of my Great Grandma's house
their wagons came one day
A beggar woman at the door
requesting work for pay
Her keen eyes surveyed the cottage
with the sun porch in the rear
An infant there lie sleeping
In the cool afternoon air
There was no work at our place
to help with on that day
But Great Grandma went to find her purse
to help the woman on her way
A search for a few coins
and old clothing and some food
back to the porch to greet the guest
but she had vanished where she stood
Across the field she hurried
Toward her moving caravan
A bundle stashed beneath her shawl
within reach they lent a hand
Our neighbors heard the screaming
when they discovered the babe gone
and ran after moving wagons
traveling toward the setting sun
The small girl child recovered
the aging woman sad
Many sons were born to her
Daughters she never had
She had been a famous dancer
of the people of her kind
in search of one to carry on
the traditional art in mind
The neighbors left the wagon
with the small child safe in arms
they checked her over quickly
and she had not been harmed
They looked back toward the old one
She pointed with raised arms
and uttered some strange foreign phrase
as if to scold and warn
My mother became a teacher of dance
accomplished as a young girl
she loved the earthy ethnic style
with leaps and spins and twirls
And I learned Middle Eastern dance
and taught this style as well
Were the daughters of the small one
cast under a gypsy spell?
