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Recently we took a trip up to
Indiana for a family reunion at my sister, Anna’s in Evansville. It’s
always good to be back with family, but one thing I just had to do was
to visit the old place in Crawford County where I spent so many years of
my childhood. Every visit to the old home place since 1995 has been
tinged with sadness, and this time was not much different.
Memories are almost always better than what we see
when we return after an absence of several years, and when some of our
loved ones have passed away. Driving up the hill south of the old home
place, I was not surprised to see that the fields were being reclaimed
by the forest – after all, the land is in the middle of the Hoosier
National Forest. But I was saddened to see how bad the house and yards
look now. Where Dad had tried to keep the land around the house (built
around 1966) mowed and cleared of brush, now the forest was almost up to
the house, and there was a mobile home where most of the driveway used
to be. The place looked as if nobody lived there, although it is still
occupied. A little farther up the road, Grandma Munson’s house and
yards were just as bad. The last time I was there at least it was just
becoming overgrown; now I felt the land was desecrated by the presence
of an even older mobile home parked where Grandma’s flowerbed used to
be. And across the road (where there used to be a barn and
cow-pasture), three more old mobile homes were parked, or rather –
junked. It was heartbreaking, to say the least.
In my memories, the house is full of life, clean,
well-cared for, and surrounded by well-tended yards and gardens. In
front of the house (facing west), on the north side, and along the road
to the north were flower gardens with different types of perennials
including daylilies, iris, lilacs, peonies, and roses. To the north of
the house Grandma had an asparagus bed, and she also grew potatoes,
beans, and some tomatoes. Sometimes she would grow vegetables in a bed
in back of the house, where she also grew rhubarb. To the south of the
house she had an orchard with apple, peach, pear, and cherry trees. And
the huge garden to the south of that was often filled with a variety of
other crops, including corn, okra, onions, beans, tomatoes, and others.
I remember summer days spent weeding the vegetable gardens, carrying
buckets of water when the summer was extremely dry, trying to save some
of the crop. I remember hours spent picking beans and peas when they
ripened, and then filling pot after pot with shelled peas or snap beans,
ready for cooking and storing.
Grandma had this huge upright freezer, and she
would fill it with as much produce from the garden as she could. Other
produce, including lots and lots of tomatoes, were canned – the kitchen
shelves were filled with row after row of canned tomatoes, green beans,
applesauce, and other produce. Sometimes she would trade some of her
produce (canned or fresh) for milk from a neighboring farm, other needs
were purchased at West Fork, 4 miles to the south, or at the nearest
town, English – both depended on her getting a ride with a neighbor
since she never drove or owned a vehicle, as far as I can recall.
Oh, and she also collected blackberries and
persimmons growing across the road, above the spring where we got our
drinking water. From these she would make blackberry cobbler and jelly,
and persimmon pudding. I have not tasted persimmon pudding for a very
long time now; I can’t even remember the last time I did.
Those times are long gone. Grandma passed away in
1968, over 40 years ago. Dad passed away in 1996. Now nobody is left
who really cares about the land. Everywhere (except the south end of
what was once the big garden) the land has been allowed to become
overgrown. Here and there are remnants of the iris, daylilies, and
other flowers that Grandma loved. Sad to see, but I realize it was
inevitable. With nobody left to love and care for the land, the forest
is taking over. That alone would be acceptable. But allowing the land
to become a junkyard – that is too much for me. Since Dad passed away,
about the only reason I have been back is for funerals. I don’t expect
that to change; I just hope the next time I go the land will look
somewhat better.
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Grandma Munson's house, March 2005
Grandma's house,
July 2008 |
