Forgot to include the names of the people in those pictures.
The first one is Joann Watson abt 1943
The second: Betty Barnes and Norma Crase abt 1945
Third: Margaret Diehl about 1945
Fourth: Georgia Richie abt 1943
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
Old photos
I was going through some old papers and found some old photographs so I'm putting them on for all to enjoy
Saturday, July 4, 2009
July 5, 2008
The kids are off living their lives. It's 104 degrees outside. The TV has only Michael Jackson stuff. Who cares? Radio on Saturday has nothing worthwhile. But wait! I have a good book. Well, at least it is by an author I liked when I read one of her books, e.g., "The Songcatcher." So I'll try that. Oh drat! It's about Nascar. Who cares. Not me. Nascar is for rednecks. Nascar is for hillbillies. Well......I'll try it - The title of the book is ST.Dale. .................................................. You know what it was a really good book and I learned a lot.
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
My Grandparents
Marvelous Minds
How did they do it? Did they plan it? Did it just happen? How could they have been so prepared? They didn’t have much education. They certainly didn’t have much money. They didn’t know people in power. So how did it happen. I marvel.
First of all they scrimped and saved and bought land. Not a lot. Topmost, I would guess 15 acres. Land on the side of a mountain. It was covered with trees, bushes, brambles and plants of every kind. They scrimped and saved some more. And built a house. More scrimping and saving. They took the children with them and cleared the land. The older children helped, the younger sat on a blanket. They built a cistern, dug a well, planted a garden, and an orchard full of apple trees. Then came a grape arbor, gooseberry bushes, quince trees, walnut trees, cherry trees. They labored over a chicken coop and a barn for the cows. And the children grew.
As the family grew, the parents gave each of them a small piece of land so that all the children and grandchildren had a home in a row on the side of that mountain. I don’t know if my grandparents planned it that way or if it just turned out that way but not many people in those days of the Great Depression were so lucky to have a piece of land on which to build a house.
How did they do it? Did they plan it? Did it just happen? How could they have been so prepared? They didn’t have much education. They certainly didn’t have much money. They didn’t know people in power. So how did it happen. I marvel.
First of all they scrimped and saved and bought land. Not a lot. Topmost, I would guess 15 acres. Land on the side of a mountain. It was covered with trees, bushes, brambles and plants of every kind. They scrimped and saved some more. And built a house. More scrimping and saving. They took the children with them and cleared the land. The older children helped, the younger sat on a blanket. They built a cistern, dug a well, planted a garden, and an orchard full of apple trees. Then came a grape arbor, gooseberry bushes, quince trees, walnut trees, cherry trees. They labored over a chicken coop and a barn for the cows. And the children grew.
As the family grew, the parents gave each of them a small piece of land so that all the children and grandchildren had a home in a row on the side of that mountain. I don’t know if my grandparents planned it that way or if it just turned out that way but not many people in those days of the Great Depression were so lucky to have a piece of land on which to build a house.
Sunday, March 8, 2009
1935-1940
Mostly we walked. Not many people had cars. No, that’s not right. Actually, a lot of people had cars. The unemployment rate was 25%. So probably 75% had cars. So I should say poor people didn’t have cars. My family did not have a car but some of my uncles did. One had a small car with a rumble seat. And once he took my brother and me for a ride with us in the rumble seat.
Another uncle had a car and he and his family would sometimes go for a ride in the evening. And sometimes they would take me. At least I always stood in the yard and hoped they would ask me to go too and sometimes they did.
In that case, we just rode around the country roads past the coke ovens or some other local sight. With my uncle, his wife, and their three children and me in the car, it was always a quiet affair. There was no “Don’t make me stop this car,” and never any “Are we there yet.” We had to be quiet so my uncle could drive safely.
Another uncle had a car and he and his family would sometimes go for a ride in the evening. And sometimes they would take me. At least I always stood in the yard and hoped they would ask me to go too and sometimes they did.
In that case, we just rode around the country roads past the coke ovens or some other local sight. With my uncle, his wife, and their three children and me in the car, it was always a quiet affair. There was no “Don’t make me stop this car,” and never any “Are we there yet.” We had to be quiet so my uncle could drive safely.
Saturday, February 28, 2009
Rivers
I have been thinking of rivers today. There are all kinds of rivers; black rivers, muddy rivers, quiet rivers or rivers fit for rafting. I’ve seen a lot of them and I bet you have too.
Should you ever drive from Munich to Vienna, you will see the mighty Danube of musical fame with many ancient castles perched high on the mountains above. You can stop and visit them if you like. If you should see any signs with the name of the river, the sign will not say, “Danube.” Only the English call it that. Your friends may call it the Donau, Dunaj, Duna, Dunav, Dunarea or Dunay.
The Tiber river that runs through the city of Rome has beautiful bridges spanning its waters. The ancient ones and thus the most beautiful are now mostly pedestrian bridges.
I have seen the shallow waters from high in the Andes mountains cascading down rocky ledges leading to the mighty Amazon river or to the ocean.
Who has not at least heard of the Euphrates and the Tigris. Among other famous facts these rivers join together at the southern point.
And that reminds me of two other rivers that join together. You will of course agree with me that of all these rivers the confluence of the Monongahela and the Cheat rivers are the most memorable of all. Not only do they surpass the others in beauty but they encapsulate our common memories of youth, childhood, and dreams.
e-Mail: trumpcard1@gmail.com
Should you ever drive from Munich to Vienna, you will see the mighty Danube of musical fame with many ancient castles perched high on the mountains above. You can stop and visit them if you like. If you should see any signs with the name of the river, the sign will not say, “Danube.” Only the English call it that. Your friends may call it the Donau, Dunaj, Duna, Dunav, Dunarea or Dunay.
The Tiber river that runs through the city of Rome has beautiful bridges spanning its waters. The ancient ones and thus the most beautiful are now mostly pedestrian bridges.
I have seen the shallow waters from high in the Andes mountains cascading down rocky ledges leading to the mighty Amazon river or to the ocean.
Who has not at least heard of the Euphrates and the Tigris. Among other famous facts these rivers join together at the southern point.
And that reminds me of two other rivers that join together. You will of course agree with me that of all these rivers the confluence of the Monongahela and the Cheat rivers are the most memorable of all. Not only do they surpass the others in beauty but they encapsulate our common memories of youth, childhood, and dreams.
e-Mail: trumpcard1@gmail.com
Thursday, January 15, 2009
Golf's Cowfield
My sister Aloma remembers:
John Goff's cowfield ranged from the bottom of Blosser Hill to the top and had a home, a cow barn and lots of wonderful ups and downs for 20 Lewis grandchildren to roam winter and summer.
I have often though how it might have been if the cowfield had not been there as our playground in all seasons.
In spring the sap ran from the maple trees that bordered the fence all the length of the field. In summer we ranged over all of the fields that didn’t have a bull within one of the fenced fields. A creek ran through the middle of the fields and a frog pond was half way up the highest field. Once brother Harold was walking across a log on the pond and said "Play I am the Doctor." and then he fell into the water. We laughed and told that story for many years.
In the summer we walked and played in the high grass that grew over much of the hill. when we were in the porch swing on our front porch, we would sing in loud voices with the maple leaves blowing in the wind and giving background music. We did lots of calisthenics in the field near our home. Once Helen made little tickets for us to go to the neighbors and sell for a penny so they could watch us perform. We sold several but only Jr. Baker came to watch us do back bends and cartwheels.
In winter we really had fun! Paul and Hugh Lewis, our uncles, made a bobsled for us. We piled on it and had fun falling off into the snow. Once Bill Porter came out and played with us at night when the big boys had built a fire in a barrel and we roasted apples over it. A very good memory.
When we went for milk to Goff's springhouse in the winter time we had to climb over the fences and often look out for a bull if the cows were out. Then spring and the tapping of the maple trees for sap to make syrup.
Fall was a great time of gathering the Maple leaves into big piles and jumping on and through them.
Goff's cowfield was a magic place for children and Blosser Hill would not have been such a joyous place without that side of the road. A cherished memory indeed!
Aloma
John Goff's cowfield ranged from the bottom of Blosser Hill to the top and had a home, a cow barn and lots of wonderful ups and downs for 20 Lewis grandchildren to roam winter and summer.
I have often though how it might have been if the cowfield had not been there as our playground in all seasons.
In spring the sap ran from the maple trees that bordered the fence all the length of the field. In summer we ranged over all of the fields that didn’t have a bull within one of the fenced fields. A creek ran through the middle of the fields and a frog pond was half way up the highest field. Once brother Harold was walking across a log on the pond and said "Play I am the Doctor." and then he fell into the water. We laughed and told that story for many years.
In the summer we walked and played in the high grass that grew over much of the hill. when we were in the porch swing on our front porch, we would sing in loud voices with the maple leaves blowing in the wind and giving background music. We did lots of calisthenics in the field near our home. Once Helen made little tickets for us to go to the neighbors and sell for a penny so they could watch us perform. We sold several but only Jr. Baker came to watch us do back bends and cartwheels.
In winter we really had fun! Paul and Hugh Lewis, our uncles, made a bobsled for us. We piled on it and had fun falling off into the snow. Once Bill Porter came out and played with us at night when the big boys had built a fire in a barrel and we roasted apples over it. A very good memory.
When we went for milk to Goff's springhouse in the winter time we had to climb over the fences and often look out for a bull if the cows were out. Then spring and the tapping of the maple trees for sap to make syrup.
Fall was a great time of gathering the Maple leaves into big piles and jumping on and through them.
Goff's cowfield was a magic place for children and Blosser Hill would not have been such a joyous place without that side of the road. A cherished memory indeed!
Aloma
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