A Shot Gun Story, Two Guys and a Diner

By: Darlene G. Snyder

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I left work early Friday afternoon so Mike and I could ride our motorcycle again, after deciding that the upcoming week-end weather forecast was for much cooler and rainy weather. We thought this might be our last chance to ride for a while. It was a bit windy, but riding on the back roads, the wind didn’t bother us to much. Actually, Friday was a gorgeous day in Kentucky.  We stayed pretty close to home, and I took several pictures. 

One of the first places we went was to a little side road in Madison County that dead ends at the creek. The part of Paint Lick Creek that ran around the small farm where Mike grew-up, was a great place to stop, take pictures and listen as he reminisced. He told of playing on the tree covered hillsides, in the creek and around the farm that we could see from our vantage point. The following is a story about a shotgun, cowboys and Indians that he told me today. Too funny not to share.

After watching several Westerns with shoot-em-up cowboys and fighting Indians, Mike decided to try his hands with a shot-gun. He was somewhere around the age of ten. His mom was at work in the factory, his dad was on another farm down the road, working. Mike took the loaded shot-gun from its resting place inside the house, jumped onto the old mare that the family used as a work horse, and went riding down the woods next to the creek. The woods were on a hillside.

As he looked for Indians to shoot, he spotted movement just ahead and pulled up the shot-gun, pointed it in the direction of the Indian and pulled the trigger. At the moment that he pulled the trigger, the gun resting against his shoulder kicked back and made a loud BOOM! The blast scared the horse, who began jumping and bucking; Mike landed in a heap on the ground. The shot-gun’s barrel went deep into the damp ground and immediately filled with dirt, mud and damp leaves. After pulling himself up and off the ground, he saw that he was alright, other than a really sore shoulder; he pulled the gun out of the ground. His first thought was how his father was going to kill him!

Mike spent the rest of the afternoon cleaning the gun the best that he could. Afterwards, he put the gun right back where he got it and never told a soul what happened until about ten years later.

I enjoyed listening to Mike’s stories, but soon we moved on and rode over to Garrard County and then Lincoln and Boyle counties. When it came time to stop and rest, we stopped at the Country Diner in Lancaster.

The Country Diner

 We met two of Lancaster’s finest citizens while eating at the diner. I didn’t get their names, but I did get their picture. Maybe they will leave a comment in the comment section and tell us who they are and about their town and job.

Lancaster's finest

 

We enjoyed our time spent with the fine young men, and we wish them well in their job, keeping Lancaster safe.

 

Here are a couple of the scenery pictures from our ride.

 

 

 

 

Mike as he is looking across the creek into the wooded area of the shoot out! Maybe I should say the shoot off!!

A Chilly, But Beautiful Motorcycle Ride

By: Darlene G. Snyder

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Our Sunday motorcycle trip took us to Estill, Lee, Owsley, Clay and Jackson Counties. We saw the changing colors of the trees as they stood along side fall flowers blooming as if they had all the time in the world. The ride was enjoyable for the most part. It changed from enjoyable to chilly after we stopped at a Dairy Queen and I made the mistake of drinking a COLD soft drink. To make matters worse, the weak side of me chose to eat a chocolate dipped ICE cream cone.  I spent the remainder of the trip shivering; luckily, we were only twenty minutes from home.

Monday afternoon’s ride took us to Poosey Ridge and to the Kentucky River – one of our favorite places to ride to in our area. The view of the shadowing on the river in the late evening is a picture begging to be painted on canvas. Darkness began to cover us on the way home, but I was able to get a few shots of a  beautiful  post sunset.

Here are some of the pictures I took. I hope you enjoy seeing my world -it sure is a beautiful one.

 

 

There Are More Ways Than One To Preserve Memories

 

By: Darlene G. Snyder

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One of my goals for this blog is to encourage you to preserve your memories in whatever way is most comfortable to you. In past articles I’ve spoken about audio or video recording older members of your family. I’ve encouraged you to write your memories and preserve them through your written words.

Photography is also another area you could use as a means to preserve memories. At almost every family function for years, I had a camera in hand. I now have photos in which  family members have requested copies. If I attended a church function, I took my camera. Regardless of the setting, I was the one people ran away from -I suppose it could be that I’ve caught a few of them with thier mouths open as they were eating food.  Oops. I’d like to believe my photographing habits have changed drastically. I try to catch the would be photographed person at thier best.

Scrapbooking is another way to preserve your memories through the use of photographs.  I’ll leave this subject to folks more qualified than me as I am not much of a scrapbooker. I have plenty of photo albums, but they aren’t pretty and decorative. For more information on scrapbooking from professionals, check this site, http://www.everything-about-scrapbooking.com/

Some of you may ask, “Why do you believe preserving memories is so important?” This is a good question and I found a great article that answers that question. The folks at thelegacyguide.com  offers a book and downloadable forms to help you preserve your legacy. The link to the article is here,  http://www.thelegacyguide.com/why_tell_your_story.html

Kirksville Kentucky – One Great Place

By: Darlene G. Snyder

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I completed my book on the Kirksville Community and now I wait patiently for the publisher to complete the printing process. For information on how to get your copy of the book, you can go to my website. It is www.darlenesnyder.com

I want to share some details about our community to just wet your appetite for some great reading. I can say that because I’ve invested a whole lot of time into the book as well as had several readers to critique and offer creative solutions for my areas of weakness. The final product will be awesome, if I must say so myself.

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• Mrs. Croucher, as well as others with whom I spoke, told me that revivals were always held for two weeks at a time. There was usually more than one revival per year. When revivals were held, nothing interfered with the services. For instance, there were two services, one in the mornings and one in the evening. If the men were working in the fields, they would leave the fields; go to church just as they were–work clothes and all. They would go home after services, eat, and go back to work. They would always stop working in the evenings in time to go to the services.  Dorothy Spurlock, another veteran member, remembers when there were no screens in the window of the Sanctuary. People would come to services, revival and Sunday services alike, and would stand outside of the windows and listen to the preaching and singing.
• “Kirksville is unique among thousands of similar villas, especially in the succession of individualistic characters who have trod these hills and rills for near two centuries. The essence of history must be the personalities around whom it revolved and evolved.” Eugene Spurlock Jr
• My grandmother shopped and traded in one of the stores located in Kirksville during the 1930’s and 1940’s.  She’d take hens, eggs, and cream to trade for coffee, flour and sugar.My grandfather raised meat hogs, usually twelve or thirteen each year. They cooked lard from the hog fat to use at home, sold the hams, and kept the shoulder and jowl meat for themselves.After raising over two-hundred pounds of corn, they’d take it to Lige Tussey’s mill in Kirksville to be ground as meal. He would keep half the meal for grinding the corn.A man that my father referred to as “Butterhead Tussey” owned a cream station.  Mr. Tussey’s wife, Florence didn’t have any way of testing to see if the cream was sweet or sour except to dip her finger in the barrels of cream and then lick them. If it were the sweet cream, which was sold to make butter, they’d receive more money for it. My grandmother made homemade cottage cheese from some of the cream.  She skimmed the cream off the milk, let it clabber then boiled it.
• Each year on the fourth Saturday of September, the Kirksville community comes together for a day of celebration. Venders set booths up along the main road of the Kirksville community as well as in front of the community center located in the former school. People from all around the County travel here to enjoy a breakfast of homemade biscuits, gravy and ham that  the masons and lodge members cooked.  Early in the morning of Kirksville Day while most are still in their warm beds, the cooks arrive and spend several hours getting the grub together. On those early mornings when I walk out my front door, the smell of country ham as it cooks assaults me. The delicious odor hovers over the area like a cloud.  It isn’t until I follow the smell in my trance like state and order a plate of food that spell is broken.  This breakfast is a fundraiser for the lodge to help them in their community activities. It is a fun time of fellowship and it gives us an opportunity to spend a brief few minutes talking with friends and family that have gathered.
• There is an ancient Indian Burial Mound in our area. Pictures are included in the book.

Don’t forget to check my website www.darlenesnyder.com for information on getting your copy of my book, Casting bread Upon the Water

Casting Bread Upon the Water

I’m happy to announce that my book,Casting Bread Upon the Water will be published and available soon. It is the history of my local church and community. I think you will find it to be very interesting even if you do not live in or are from the Kirksville Kentucky area.  The link to my website is included. I have a pre-order special going right now and I know you won’t want to miss it.  Go here for more information

http://www.darlenesnyder.com

Still in Love After Seventy Years of Marriage

The gravels crunched beneath my tires as I drove my automobile up the inclined  driveway.  Bits of grass grew wildly between some of the rocks.  After parking, I took a moment to view the house I was about to enter. 

 The two story older home looked like it had new siding – a pale yellow color.  The front held two porch swings –one on each end of the concreted covered entrance. The lawn neatly mowed looked inviting. The trees in the front looked as if they were coaxing me to pull up a lawn chair and sit beneath them on this warm summer day, I immediately thought of my childhood home. 

As a writer, this was my first time of interviewing people for something other than memory writing. Although I was a little nervous, knowing the couple I was about to interview for an article that I was writing, kept most of the butterflies at bay.

 After walking the path to the front door, I banged loudly on the door to attract the attention of the older couple I was visiting.  They were expecting me.  I could hear the television – even with the front door closed.  I knew Cecil wore a hearing aide.  Many times sitting a few pews back from them at church, I’d hear his hearing aide buzzing because he had it turned up too loud.

 Sally ambled to the door and after opening it, she invited me in, greeting me with a huge smile. After instructing Cecil to turn off the TV so that they could hear me, Sally offered me a seat.

 The floral sofa did not match the floral chair.  Most of the furniture was mixed matched.  Photographs of their son, grandchildren, great and great great grandchildren lined the walls, shelves and tables. The hardwood floors held a variety of throw rugs.  I noticed white country style curtains hanging on the windows in the family room and the kitchen.  I wasn’t sure about the curtains in the rest of the house since I hadn’t seen it yet. I did notice the beautiful antiques, furniture and glassware. 

I began my interview, starting with how long they had been married, (seventy years) to what times were like when they first married. I soon realized this wasn’t going to be a typical interview.  I had to yell my questions, and they answered what they thought the questions were, most answers didn’t have anything to do with what I’d just asked.

 These people were about the sweetest married couple I’d seen in a long while. The way they answered the questions together or looking at each other and their mannerism was refreshing. The couple brought back my faith in the institution of marriage. Although my intention was only to interview  women, they were so tightly joined that it would’ve been almost impossible to just interview one of them.

They told me things like, we’ve never gone to bed angry with each other, never had a fight so big that divorce was contemplated, always worked hard and made decisions together. Cecil proudly says they’ve never purchased anything they couldn’t pay for in cash. They don’t use credit cards and don’t live above thier means.

Sally and Cecil say that their faith in Jesus Christ is what has sustained them through their marriage and just recently through the loss of their adult son.

Cecil and Sally attend church regurlary every Sunday and requires no special accomendations such as handicap parking and wouldn’t hear of being treated any differently than every other church member.

When I grow up, when I’ve been married seventy years, I hope to be as happy as Cecil and Sally are in life.

Mistaken Identity – A Vacation Memory

 

 

By: Darlene G. Snyder

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 The trip to Virgina Beach a few years ago was long and endless, but we arrived safely. I wasn’t happy about driving underwater via the tunnels as I am a big chicken about many things with water, bridges and tunnels near the top of the list.  The week with the family at the beach went well enough with no major catastrophes or problems.  I refused to go over the Chesapeak Bay Bridge, but after leaving wished I hadn’t been such a spoil sport. I always seem to have unreasonable excuses for not doing something then later wishing that I had done whatever it was that I didn’t do. Make sense?

Anyway, before leaving for home, we strolled through some of the shops looking for souvenirs. I purchased two Virginia Beach tee-shirts and a few other cheap key rings and such. Once it was time for us to return home, I decided to wear one of the shirts. I especially liked the color of one in particular and I also liked the style. Very Cute, I thought as I finished dressing.

The traffic was especially horrendous, but to keep from having to drive through the underwater tunnels, I let my son drive. I sat in the backseat and complained about his driving, but I definitely didn’t want to take over and drive myself.  After we’d made it through the worst of the traffic, we decided to stop and take a break.

While sitting in a McDonald’s, my son started laughing. “What is it?” I asked. He barely could get the words out through his laughter, but he said, “Did you intentionally buy a tee-shirt with a Playboy bunny logo on it? I gasped and looked down to see what he was talking about. He was right. The tee-shirt I was wearing had the Playboy bunny ears plastered prominently on the front. How I missed seeing them, I’ll never know.

All of us had a good laugh at my mistake. I went to the bathroom and turned my shirt inside out to hide the bunny ears. What we laughed about the most was how that we had gotten out of my SUV that has the Christian logo on the back, sat at the table and prayed before our meal and all the while I sat there wearing my Playboy tee-shirt.

I burned the shirt when I got home. Some thought I should save it and at least wear it to bed sometime, but I think I’d be too embarrassed. What if something happened in the middle of the night and I had to go to the hospital wearing that shirt?

I’ll be more careful in the future when I purchase vacation paraphernalia.

Blog Tour for Devotions to Go

By: Darlene G. Snyder

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As part of a blog tour for publisher Jeanann Duckworth and her Devotions to Go books, here’s a review of Pastors’ Wives Devotions to Go that I thought readers would appreciate. If you have an opportunity to read this book, I’d be interested in what you think.

Pastors’ Wives Devotions to Go

Beverly Henry’s book is a look at the role of the pastor’s wife and is filled with encouragement for women in ministry.

Henry includes many humorous antidotes, such as an expectant pastor’s wife with toilet paper stuck to her shoe and a pastor’s wife who opens the door to yell to her family that she is “taking her clothes off now,” to find unexpected guests confused at her declaration. She takes opportunity to teach life lessons from the antidotes. Lessons such as,” Your position as a pastor’s wife gives you power in the eyes of others, whether you feel it or not. How you act and react to life situations either opens or closes doors to
the people who enter your life,” came after a story about two women of different personalities became friends as a result of a kitchen accident. The reaction of one of the women changed the other woman for a lifetime.

One of the things I enjoyed about this book is how it touches on the various aspects of a pastor’s wife role. Her use of humor allows readers to smile and relate to each incident mentioned. Henry does a good job including subject matter such as, difficulty of leaving a church to go minister in another place, dealing with embarrassing situations and how pastors’ wives can make a difference in the lives of women in the church. Henry also includes a daily Bible verse that goes along with her subject.

JeanAnn Duckworth, CEO of Extreme Diva Media, publishes a series of Devotion To Go books with titles such as, Fearless Moms Devotions to Go, Moms over 50 Devotions to Go and Frazzled Moms Devotions to Go, just to name a few. With the rushed lives that most of us lead, these purse size books are perfect to have on hand while waiting in a doctor’s office, while stuck in traffic, on planes and even resting at the beach.

If you are interested in investigating this series of books, you can go to the Extreme Diva Web site here. The books cost $8.95 each with standard shipping cost of $2.00. If you order Devotions to Go 6 Months Subscription in June, you’ll receive a free copy of Christmas Devotions to Go in December. This allows you to purchase 7 books at the price of 5. Now, that is the kind of deal I like.

Creek Photos

By: Darlene G. Snyder

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I love these photos that I took late this evening. We were out riding our motorcycle and decided to ride to a well known creek in our area called Dry Branch. Most of the time the creek lives up to its name. Tonight was the first time in a long time that I’ve seen more that a skim of water there. The shawdowing caught my attention too.

 

      

 

It’s All Elementary

 

By: Darlene G. Snyder

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I’ve always been a nail biter. This particular day I was gnawing on them with intensity. In line with the other second graders in my class, we waited. I don’t recall why, but we were in line to be spanked.

 I do recall, that whatever the wrong, I hadn’t participated, but Mrs. Lewis, our teacher was determined to get us all – just to make sure she got the ones who were involved. Now that I think about it, she was upset over something that happened while she was out of the room.

 My tiny stomach rolled. My knees trembled, and my hands never left my mouth. I dreaded the sting of the paddle and I dreaded going home. If I was spanked at school, I knew my parents would get me again, never doubting that I deserved the punishment. Not because I was a mean child or even mischievous, it’s just that my dad was a disciplinarian and wanted to keep us kids in line. He’d have to spank me again just so I’d know he wasn’t going to put up with any misbehavior at school.

 That was the closest I came to a spanking at school. For some unknown or unremembered reason, Mrs. Lewis decided not to spank us. That was close.  Too, close.

 Spankings in school are a thing of the past. While I believe that schools should be able to punish children and spanking is one form of punishment that seemed to be effective in deterring bad behavior, in the past adults have abused this punishment.

 Here is an example of a teacher abusing a student.

 Mike, my husband wasn’t the only one to garner the wrath of Mrs. Ross, a third grade teacher in the elementary school he attended as a child. He was however, one of a few that she physically abused.

 She kept a bottle of cough syrup in her desk. The students knew what really was in the bottle as she drank her whisky from it all during the school day. Mrs. Ross was a stout built woman with a booming voice. The more she drank from the bottle, the more she fussed and screamed at the class. One particular day, her behavior was worse than usual.

 She called on Mike to solve a problem on the blackboard. When he couldn’t do what she asked, she spanked him. She asked again, and of course he couldn’t solve the problem so she spanked him again. Even if he could have, the fear and anger she instilled in him would have kept him from doing so. I don’t know at what point she stopped spanking and started beating him with the paddle turned up on the ends, but he went home all bruised and battered. He didn’t share this experience with his parents, but when his mother saw him in the tub later that night, she questioned him and he finally told her what happened. As one would imagine, his mother was so upset she went to school the next day and had to be held back because she wanted to get her hands on the teacher.

 One would think that would be the end and that Mrs. Ross would’ve been escorted from the school, but she wasn’t. In fact, she made fun of Mike in front of the class, taunted him and put him away from the other students, telling them not to play with him or his mama would come and get them. How horrific.  Mike said that for years he dreamed about running over Mrs. Ross with a car. Bless his little heart. 

 Spankings didn’t just happen in the schools, unlike many homes today, punishment was the norm. Children thought about the punishment before committing the infraction. The smell of fear interrupted many a child’s thought of misbehaving. Sometimes the smell was stronger than other times.

 In my home, it was Sundays when that smell was the strongest. Mom took my sister, brother and me to church every week. We sat with her in the sanctuary since there was no such thing as Children’s Church. We sat still or as still as any three children could sit. Yes, sometimes we pinched, hit, elbowed the other and sometimes we whispered, possibly whispering louder than we thought. Mom would call us down, give us that stern look and say through clenched teeth, “Just wait until you get home!” We all knew what that meant and would sit quieter still, contemplating our fate. No amount of begging after church would release us from, gulp, the belt.

 As soon as we arrive home, mom would tell dad about our unruliness. Sometimes it was before lunch, sometime we’d have to suffer through lunch, anticipating the burn from the belt. Swallowing food while knowing our doom was most difficult; if he spanked us before lunch, we’d sulk and not want to eat.

 The worse part was forming the line. The three of us would line up and wait to bend over his knees for the spanking. As I remember it, he only hit a couple of times or so, but you would’ve thought he’d beat us furiously. As we stood from our bent position, the tears wet our face. If I were not the first one, as soon as the spanking began on my siblings, I’d start crying. To this day, I can still hear the sound that the belt made as it smacked against the tender skin of the backside. Even worse, I can still feel the sting.

 Mom says that we never really acted that badly in church, but she says she didn’t want us to think we could get by with bad behavior. Since dad didn’t attend church with her, she tried to keep the bluff on three active children who were very close in age. Well, it worked. We were very afraid of the consequences of our behavior, knowing the outcome.

 There were other spankings in my life, but the Sunday spankings are the ones that stand out the most.

 If you dare, share your childhood spanking stories with me. What other forms of punishment did you receive?