Archive for the ‘My Memories’ Category

by Sherry Stocking Kline
October 31, 2009

The following is the Saturday Night Genealogy Fun Challenge by Randy Seaver at Genea-Musings!  Thanks, Randy!

Hey boys and girls, it’s Hallowe’en, and time for some Saturday Night Genealogy Fun! Play either before or after your trick or treating experiences, or even on Sunday morning after your extra hour of sleep (you did remember to set your clocks back, didn’t you?).

Here is your assignment, should you decide to accept it (you ARE reading this, so I assume that you really want to play along – cue the Mission Impossible music!):

1) Think about your most memorable Hallowe’en – was it when you were a child (candy, games, carnivals), a teenager (tricks and treats), or an adult (perhaps a party)?

2) Tell us about it in your own blog post, in a comment to this blog post of mine, or in a comment on Twitter or Facebook in response to this post.

3) Have fun!

Looking back at my own memories I realize how lucky we were. We lived in, or in my case near, a wonderful small town where the residents were patient and the bank roof was sturdy.

What was so important about the bank roof being sturdy?

The goal each Halloween, for at least two generations, was to block off the three-block Main Street so no traffic could get through, (at all) soap car and business’ windows, (there were five in my time prior to that six or seven) and to …

Pile as Much Stuff on the Bank Roof as Possible!

In our defense, it didn’t start with my generation.

In my father’s time, horse drawn buggies were pushed, pulled, and hauled up on the bank’s roof.

In my time, for whatever reason, it became the preacher’s kid’s swing sets that made their way onto the bank roof each Halloween.

Just in case one of the p.k.’s (preacher’s kids) read this someday it didn’t mean we didn’t like you or your folks, i.e. it was not a negative reflection on the preacher’s popularity, it was probably because the family was well liked.

And, it was also because the swing sets were handy to the bank and very easily moved.

In Mayfield, in the 1950’s, it was safe…

In Mayfield, in the 1950’s, it was safe for children to go around by themselves. Maybe it wouldn’t be now, maybe not even in Mayfield which is still has about 100 residents, and isn’t that a sad commentary on our times.

My very first Halloween memory is when I was about three or four years old and not much taller than the paper grocery sack my mom sent me off to trick or treat with.

One of the ‘big girls’, Anita Biles or Ginny Barry, took me by the hand, and walked me around the town along with a crowd made up of all ages and sizes.  I felt very short, very small, and kind of scared.

My next memory is being big enough not to hold anyone’s hand and going around with friends in home-made costumes. I remember being a hobo often, because the bandannas and ratty clothes were easy to come by.

By the Time We Were Old Enough, the Privy’s were gone…

By the time my generation was big enough to join in with creating havoc, some of the buggies and horse drawn wagons still sat in yards and town fields, but the outhouses (privy’s) were gone. My dad’s generation was known to push over outhouses.(Occasionally some resourceful person moved the outhouse, and the prankster’s fell IN the outhouse hole) and one Hallowwen someone was actually IN an outhouse when it was pushed over.

Looking back, I marvel at the patience of the men who got up the next day, and took everything back to its proper home, because if it was movable, if it could be drug, rolled, pushed or pulled, it made its way to Main Street on Halloween night amidst joyous laughter and much camaraderie. (And for those who cleaned up the next day, please know that I’m grateful.)

We Were ‘Too Old’ to Go Trick or Treating…

As teen-agers, though we considered ourselves too old to go trick-or-treating, we were still expected to make an appearance in each of our town “Grandma’s” homes to receive our treats.

We started out at Grandma Mabel Stayton’s, where my mom, Dorothy Stocking, and my best friend’s mom, Wanda Stayton, both farm wives, sat with Mabel to hand out candy along with Mabel. From there, we traveled to visit at Grandma Eva Downing’s, Grandma Jenny McCreary’s, Valley Heasty’s, Mrs. Washburn’s, Dode and Bonnie Anderson, and Nancy and Rosa Weber’s home.

At each home, we were welcomed with candy and choruses of “My how you’ve grown!”, “What grade are you in now?” and “Be sure and come back next year!”

We had no idea then, how lucky we were to grow up in a small town with such a family friendly atmosphere.

But Traditions Change…

It wasn’t too many years after we Tricked and Treated that the traditions were changed to ones that were safer and were less work for all involved, but looking back, well, memories just don’t get any better than the ones we were lucky enough to create.

by Sherry Stocking Kline
October 19, 2009

It may sound crazy, but the best fishing trip I ever went on was nowhere near the water and we didn’t catch any fish.

It All Started With a Garage Sale…

It all started with a garage sale. (I do love garage sales.)

Driving by a garage sale late one Saturday afternoon I begged my son to stop so I could feed my garage sale fix.  (no, I have no pride and  he was driving so I begged, maybe even offered a bribe.)

I knew we were too late in the day to get first choice on the good stuff, but we were prime time for getting bargains on the I-don’t-want-to-box-it-up-and-keep-it  leftovers.

Sitting there amidst a lot of stuff we didn’t want was what looked like a really nice fishing reel.  I picked it up, checked it out, and laid it back down.

Which immediately prompted an offer from the owner of the garage.

So I snapped up the fishing reel. When we got back home, my son and I immediately went to my mom’s home to show off our ‘treasures.’

“Looks like a nice reel,” she said, “but it needs new line.” And she, being the veteran of years of pond, river, lake, and ocean fishing, knew what she was talking about.

Take it To Your Uncle Daryl…

“Take it to your Uncle Daryl,” she said, “he can put new line on it and get it ready to go for you.”

Daryl Jones, Sr., fishing at Aransas Pass, Texas 1908 - 1999

So I did.  My Uncle Daryl Jones, Sr. was pretty much a ‘pro’ at fishing.  Whether it was pond, river, creek, lake, or ocean, he’d fished them all, and he usually brought home the fish that the rest of us call “the one that got away.”

He looked the reel over, allowed that it was an “o.k.” reel, and that I had gotten a pretty “o.k.” deal, kept it, and promised to put new line on it and get it back to me soon.

A couple of weeks later he called me up and asked me if I  had a little time.   He had an hour to kill while my Aunt Elsie, got her hair done.

“Sure,” I said, and when he knocked on my door an hour later my fishing reel was now attached to a pole.

And Not Just Any Pole…

Not just any pole, but the one that his first wife, my Aunt May, who had passed away, had used to catch a shark in the Ocean near Aransas Pass, Texas, where they and my mom and her husband used to spend their winters fishing and being winter Texans.

Awesome!   I was thrilled, and moved to tears, and I tried to talk him into keeping it. But he wouldn’t have it.

“At my age, it won’t be too long before someone will have to put my things in an auction,” he said, “I’d like for you to have it.” (Fortunately, it was some time yet before he passed on.)

Nothing would have it but that he  give me an on-the-spot fishing lesson. So out the door we went to his little Toyota pickup, put down the tail gate, sat down, and he began to show me the right way to cast and reel in, cast and reel in.

That day is a Golden Moment in my memories…

It was fall, and the air was fresh and clean and  just crisp and cool enough to need a light jacket.  The trees were turning gold and red and even the dust motes in the breeze were golden with reflected sunlight.

We sat there, uncle and niece, on a pick-up tail gate in my driveway, dangling our feet, talking about fishing and memories, and casting out up and down the street as if we were actually on a lake, and bonding.

Casting out and reeling in, and hurrying like mad when a car turned down my dead-end street and threatened to run over our ‘catch.’

And enjoying being family on a beautiful fall day.

My Neighbors Thought We Were a Brick Shy of a Full Load…

There’s not a lot of traffic on my street, but I’m sure the neighbors and the occasional ‘foreigner’  (car that didn’t live there) that drove by that day had to be certain we were ‘a brick shy of a full load’, but I didn’t care.

I learned a lot that day, not all of it about how to fish, and the most important thing I learned was to tuck golden memories like this one into my heart to keep forever.

Saturday Night Genealogy Fun – Your All-time Favorite Song

(I borrowed this first part from Randy Seaver’s blog at http://www.geneamusings.com/

It’s Saturday Night – time for some Genealogy, and Family History, Fun!

Here is your assignment for the evening – if you wish to participate in the Fun (cue the Mission Impossible music):

1. What is your all-time favorite song? Yep, number 1. It’s hard to choose sometimes. If you made your favorite all-time Top 40 music selections, what would be #1?

2. Tell us about it. Why is it a favorite? Do you have special memories attached to this song?

3. Write your own blog post about it, or make a comment on this post or on the Facebook entry.

Here’s my Favorite Songs – For Tonight Anyhow!
by Sherry Stocking Kline

This is much harder than last week’s blog where all I had to do was try to figure out how to make Family Tree Maker spit out an Ahnentafel report and then figure out which one was “the one” to write about. (by the way, I flunked that test, but did write about an interesting ancestor! Check that out here)

Well, I’m going to ‘flunk’ this week, too, because I can’t just write about one!

I was in high school in the 60’s, and grade school in the 50’s, so there’s a lot of great songs to choose from, and it seems like all have memories attached.

This isn’t my Number One song, but it is one with some great memories attached.

It’s “Li’l Red Riding Hood” by Sam the Sham and the Pharaohs, and if I’ve done it right, you can listen to a short clip by clicking on the title. (Well, I wasn’t able to pull that off..)

“Li’l Red Riding Hood” was one of those fun-to-sing-along-with songs, so picture if you can, me and three high-school girl partners in crime, some of us with our boyfriends (this was before seat belt law, and before all cars even had seat belts!) all crammed into a small, white, 63′ Ford Fairlane 500, dragging main street with the windows down singing this song and howling at all the appropriate times, and at some of our good friends in passing cars.

(This was back when you could drag main all night after a football game or movie for just $1, and you could stop at Dick’s Drive-In for 15 cent French Fries)

And no, no alcohol was involved or being consumed!  Just a lot of fun between friends who are still friends today.

The boyfriend with me became my husband, and that song was one we laughingly sang on road trips when our kids were little bitty, and they sing to their children today!  Memories don’t get any better than that.

My favorite number one song?  Toss-up between Ben E. King’s  “Stand By Me” in the 50’s and John Denver’s “Take Me Home Country Roads” in the late 60’s.

Raised on a wheat and dairy farm with a 160 acres of land to roam over, and lots of animal pets, I’m a country girl at heart, and whenever I hear “Take Me Home Country Roads” it takes me back home in memory. And whenever I hear “Stand By Me” I think of grade school, high school, sock hops and good friends.

Thanks for another SNGF of fun!