Rain, garden goodies and family memories

With all the flurry of end-of-school and late spring activities, there's been a lot of competition for space in the paper in recent weeks. I skipped writing my column one week when it seemed there were too many other stories that should be printed instead. Then, when I did write one the next week, it got crowded out by more important news. So it seems quite a while since I sat down to record a few thoughts for our dear readers.

We've had an abundance of rain this spring. Gardening and lawn mowing have had to just be worked in between showers. As I write this Sunday afternoon, we're having another downpour. Each time we get these heavy rains, I worry about my sisters who both had damage to their places from floodwaters the last of April. Jim didn't finish his mowing Friday and put it off Saturday in favor of watching a golf tournament. Doesn't look like it's going to happen the next couple of days either.

We lost our last uncle near the end of April and his graveside services were held at Bethel Cemetery May 13. Even after the delay, parts of the road around the cemetery were still pretty muddy. Then sister Nancy and I drove to Highfill on May 27 to place flowers on the graves of our parents and some of Daddy's relatives at the Douglas Cemetery there. We had called our cousin John, who helps mow and maintain the cemetery, and learned the annual Memorial Day service of former days is no longer being held. Sadly, most of the older attendees have died or are in ill health and the younger generation doesn't seem inclined to carry on the tradition.

We have a pot of green beans and new potatoes simmering on the stove. Sure does smell good! Seasoned with a liberal helping of chopped onion and a few tablespoons of bacon grease, they'll make a tasty accompaniment to the jalapeno cheddar smoked sausages Jim purchased or to the last piece of leftover fried chicken. I may even put out the bowl of crunchy radishes from the farmers' market. We ate a few yesterday, and I cooked the radish tops for a small serving of tasty greens. I still have some nice broccoli and beets for future meals. I brought home lots of goodies from the farmers' market this week.

Growing a good garden was a part of life in our parents' generation. In a recent letter, Aunt Mary sent a copy of a short history Uncle Holland wrote of his life. He described the 30-acre farm where our grandparents raised him and his six siblings. (He had one brother, four years younger, and five older sisters, including my mother.) They had gardens on each side of the yard, a milk cow and chickens. The horse they had, which pulled a one-horse wagon, died when Holland was four or five years old. After that, with no transportation, they had to walk about two miles into Maysville to pick up the few groceries they bought.

Grandpa was a carpenter, taught the trade by his father, but during the depression years no carpenter work was available so he did whatever farm work he could find. The wage for farm work was $1 per 10-hour day. In order to get a neighbor who had a team of horses to plow the gardens, Grandpa worked a 10-hour day to pay the neighbor. In the early springtime he would buy or barter for two small pigs which he would fatten and kill in the late fall for the family's winter meat.

"These were hard times," Holland wrote, and indeed they were. It's difficult to comprehend, with all the advantages we enjoy in life, just what sacrifices our ancestors endured in their everyday lives. Grandpa had only a fourth-grade education, but he insisted that his kids have a good education. All seven children walked two miles to school their first eight years (three miles if they walked by the road). They eliminated a mile by cutting through three 80-acre fields just south of their house.

The nearest high schools were six miles away in Southwest City, Mo., and 10 miles away in Gravette. Holland and all his sisters lived with relatives or worked for room and board with families in nearby towns during their high school years. Their brother Oliver was the only one who stayed home during high school. World War II had started by then and times were getting better, so Grandpa had money to pay for him to ride to school in Southwest City with a neighbor who had a car.

Susan Holland is a longtime resident of Benton County and a reporter for the Westside Eagle Observer. She can be reached by email at [email protected]. Opinions expressed are those of the author.

Editorial on 06/07/2017