A Word Edgewise |
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A Word Edgewise |
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Last Updated 01/20/06
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TO A LITTLE ABOUT THE GOOD OLD DAYS
By Mary Joe Clendnenin
(I have a guest columnist today. Thought you might enjoy reading this that
my dad, Joe Fitzgerald, wrote about the past. Was probably written in the
1930s.)
I can remember back to the time when we trimmed the lamp wicks (and farther
back when they put a little tallow or gravy in a saucer and laid a cotton
string in it for a wick). I have carried many a can of coal oil from the
store with a potato stuck over the spout. That was back when they had
sitting rooms, or parlors, and the young man went there to spark the girls.
The couple sat around and looked at family albums.
Visitors always slept in this room. There was a big feather bed and when
you got into it you felt like you were sinking into a cloud. You went off
into a dreamless sleep and was always wakened too soon by Pa calling the
boys to get up and go tie fodder while it was still damp. We would be out in
the field by four o'clock and then Ma would get up and put the little pot in
the big one for the guest. In a little while you would hear the old coffee
mill going and that was always time for guests to get up. But often-more
than often-the guest would get up and help the old man and the boys tie up
the fodder. You could hear a lonely old owl crying over in the woods, and
the cowbells began to jingle as the girls went to the cow pen to juice the
cows.
Back then nearly every home had an aged "grandma" or "grandpa". I can
remember Grandma Bibb, Grandma McInroe, Grandpa Moore, Grandpa Johnson and
many others. That was before they got cancer to kill the old people off. Old
"grandma" would sit by the side of the fire and would have her clay pipe
laying up handy. She would fill her pipe with big bale tobacco and would
reach down and pick up a live coal with her hand and lay it on her pipe.
When I was a kid I wondered how they could do this and I got burned many
times before I learned how to pick up a live coal. They churned in an old
fashioned--often a cedar-up and down churn. Took all morning sometimes to
get the churning done. Often, near the house was a patch of sorghum cane.
And such molasses some people could make?
Come fall and it was a delight to take a day off and go to the creek and
gather pecans. Back then there was a wild, very sour grape which grew out of
the thick woods and people would gather these and even dry them to make pies
in the wintertime. I know where two of these vines are now, but no one pays
any attention to them. We lived close to nature then, and who knows, getting
away from nature may be the cause of cancer. The land is poor and what we
eat now could not have the kick to it that old-fashioned turnip greens and
sow belly had.
Remember how they would put the milk in stone jars, set it in front of the
fire and turn the jars around so the cream would form? That was back when
the roosters were allowed to run with the hens, the brazen mean things. And
when we had muzzle-loading guns and it took a gun a minute to fire after the
trigger was pulled. And when little girls went to school with their hair
braided and hanging down their backs.
That was back when they had Arbuckle coffee, and you could save the
signature and send off to get a ring or razor. But you always had to send
along two cents to pay for them. I can remember when such a thing as baking
powder was unknown and the women bragged about the biscuits they could make
with soda and sour milk. Just after hog-killing time we would have crackling
bread, and we would put potatoes in the hot ashes to roast them. They didn't
have lunches then, but we did have breakfast, dinner and supper. Back then,
when they killed the hogs they would roast the pig tails with the potatoes
and they were good.
That was back when we had the Populist party and everyone hated old King
George. When it was a crime to cuss in front of a woman, or ride a pony in a
store house. They were always getting some fellow up for carrying concealed
weapons, and it was considered an honor to stay all night in a hotel. The
dead were buried in home-made coffins and a few of the neighbors acted as
undertakers. You could die then and be buried for ten dollars, but if you
get out of the world now for less than five hundred dollars, you have done
something to be proud of. They say the world has gotten smaller, but it was
just as small then. It was an event if a woman went to town, or if a man
went to another county, when he got back his neighbors would all visit him
to see how tricks were in the other part of the world.