This Thing Called AGE???

As I see my reflection each day and look at my hands and skin, covered with wrinkles and age spots that are more like my mothers, it looks like a woman 90+ years old. I can accept that reality BUT I can't wrap my mind around the fact that it is ME! 

This time of year takes me way back to the times when it was so exciting, as the weather started to get a chill and it was time for the first fire in the grate fireplace ,the only form of heat, other than the coal burning stove in the kitchen, that had been covered with plywood during the summer. It was my job to pick up chips from around the wood chopping block to help start that first fire for the winter. Once it was started as the weather got cold it was kept burning using coal to keep us from freezing.   Sometimes we would bake whole potatoes by putting them in the ashes, so good when they were done, covered with real "cow" butter.

Fall brings more memories than I could mention, like gathering black walnuts after the first frost, smashing the green hulls that left a stain on your hands that couldn't be washed off for quite some time. After this they were put on the top of a shed, maybe even on the outhouse, to dry.   Then there was cracking them and getting them ready for delicious cakes, candy or just eating.

Lots of other work to be done, besides all the canning, pickling, making preserves, jelly etc. to have food for the winter.  There was dried corn to be gathered and shucked, fodder shocks to keep the cow, horse and chickens fed. It was all done the hard way for all the people I knew. All this seems like not so long ago, until I think of all the "in betweens" during those years.

I enjoy "remembering" most of the time except for the sad times and the mistakes I've made and the things that can't be amended. These are the thoughts that keep me awake at night. It would be so nice to have a switch that I could turn those off kinda' like the delete on a computer.

It's not all bad, still caring about others, trying never to judge or change anyone else, just always being thankful for the life here at Creekside Terrace. Wishing ALL a wonderful EVERYDAY of THANKSGIVING!!

 

Happy 2019 From Lois

 

​Does it seem to you like time itself is moving faster, or is it just that I am moving slower? Each year passes like it is in overdrive. I remember back when we looked forward to the next season that came much slower. 

Early fall as the weather started to get a chill in the air, I was always excited when my dad first opened the grate fireplace that had been covered for a long time during the summer.  That was the only heat in our house except for the coal stove in the kitchen. It was my job to go out to the wood chopping block and pick up chips to use to start that first fire. As the weather became colder the fire seldom went out, it was kept burning using coal to keep it going.  At night when it was bedtime my dad used what was called "slack" coal on the fire that kinda smothered it, that kept it slow burning during the night than in the morning all you had to do was use a poker to stir it up and get it going again.  After that larger chunks of coal kept it going.  We never used wood except to get it started.  Remember the big boxes of "strike anywhere" matches?

This was a time to start wearing shoes after the long summer days of going barefoot it seemed strange to have them on, except for going to Sunday School.  As soon as I would get home off they would come, felt so good.

Soon after Labor Day, school started, to begin another long stretch in time.  Until 4th grade I went to a little one room school that was in sight of our house.  After that I had to walk quite a way and cross the creek, if there was a bridge, to catch the bus to Pratt Jr. High. Sometimes the creek would rise and wash the bridge away.  At those times I had to miss school. The time seemed so slow, it seemed forever before late May when school would be out for the summer.

In the early years I remember we had no electric.  The only lights we had were kerosene lamps, that didn't seem so bad because that was all we knew until later years.

Even from early Fall, it seemed that Christmas would never come and from one Christmas to another was like forever. It seemed like birthdays would never come, back when we looked forward to being another year older, what a change now.

I still smile when I remember May 1st was the first day we could go without shoes and other changes could take place, like changing from long underwear, no matter what the weather this was the magic date.

The spring and summer work had already begun as people used the Farmer’s Almanac watching the "signs" for planting crops, except for planting potatoes, that had to be March 17, St. Patrick's Day, maybe because they were Irish potatoes??

The summers seemed long and enjoyed when we could wade the creek and puddles after a rain. Playing games using sticks for bats, pictures from catalogues as paper dolls, running, playing tag, hopscotch using a piece of broken glass, all sorts of fun things to do.

Time was so much slower back then, we took advantage of every minute.  When night came we were ready to rest.  Always patiently waiting for the next season. Now things move so fast that it seems that seasons are almost gone before they get here so we have to grab every minute use it and make the best of it before it is gone forever. There is nothing sweeter than showing love and understanding for each other.

I am so Blessed to have the chance to be able to say HAPPY NEW YEAR one more time.

 

A SALUTE TO THE MEMORY OF THE TWO PEOPLE WHO ARE THE CAUSE OF US

William Henry Seacrist Sr. and His Wife, Margaret Van Allen Coleman,

Better known to friends and neighbors as Uncle Bud and Aunt Mag

 

I've been trying to remember some things about my grandparents because I think I'm about the oldest one here.  I believe Ethel Huffman Howell and I are the only ones left in our generation.  Gay Seacrist Smoot passed away just over a year ago, the three of us were near the same age, Gay the youngest of the three.                                                                                                                                                          

                I can barely remember Grandpa.  He died when I was very young.  I was 12 when grandma passed away.  I had missed school because I had a tooth ache the day before she died.  I spent the day with her, reading Heidi to her.  Strange how little things stay in your mind forever.   I'm not sure of the date but know it was 1941 the spring before WW2.  The next day when I came home from school the first thing I learned was that she had had a stroke.  She always sat in a chair right beside the grate fireplace and listened to soap operas on the radio.  One I remember was Stela Dalis, on this day I think it might have been about 10 am.  She slid out of the chair partly in the ashes.  Later in the afternoon I think it was Bertha, Uncles Lon's daughter, found her.  She lived for a short time.  The Dr. probably came to her house.  In fact she had made it clear, she was not to be taken away from there. The Undertaker came there and did whatever they did back then.

                Her house was just three rooms and a path, one of those was kept neat in case she had company.  The "front room" had two beds.  The big one where she slept Ethel usually slept with her.  Then, the small bed, that grandpa had called the "dog bed" [they never had a dog] it was made of corn shucks. That's where I slept when I spent the night.  The room was papered with newspapers.  We grandchildren, especially Ethel, Buddy and I played guessing games looking at the papers. Grandma loved to tell ghost stories and sometimes I would have to go home in the dark.  It was only across the narrow dirt road, but to me it seemed a long way.  I would be so scared.  Ethel and I loved to play “paper people" with pictures that we cut from Sears Roebuck Catalogs.  Grandma let us play as much as we liked as long as we put them under the bed for another day.  Ethel was not just my cousin she was my best friend.                                                                                        

                I might not get their children in the right order but my dad, Henry, was the oldest.  He quit school in the 3nd grade to work at the coal mines to help support the family.  I must say, without much formal education he was a very smart man.  There wasn't much he couldn't do such as building houses plus any type work to keep a family.  One thing he never learned was to drive a car. My dad and his brother, Alonzo married sisters, my mom Lydia Ann and Stella Johnson.

My parents were married at Gallagher [name back then was Mucklow] WV. The year 1901,they had 12 children 9 grew to be adults. Their first child, Virgie Ellen died of scarlet fever and meningitis when she was only 2 years old.  Charles Fredric was the next oldest.  I believe they were the only two that were born before they moved to the house that my dad built at Holly Grove that is still standing after about 112 years.  ,Next was Walter Alexander, William Harvey, Sylvia Carolyn, Brant Hamilton, Marie Van Allen, Everette Melvin [killed in an accident while playing], at about 11 years old, Kittie Katherine, Henry Clinton, Oral Edward died when he was 5 of Scarlet fever and meningitis, then it's just me, Lois Emma Seacrist Chrest Tyler Long, that is a story for another time.

    I don't know if I have the men in the in the right order.  After my dad was Alonzo [ Uncle Lon] and Stella their children that I can remember were  the girls, Bertha Crist, Reva Morrison, Ershel, Judy Green, Janis Crist and Gay Smoot.  The boys were Lonnie Bob, J.C. Sam, Clyde and Paul.

    Next [I think] of the brothers was John and his wife Jean, I remember hearing that as a young man Uncle John was rather active in the mine wars at Holly Grove.  The children that I remember were Mary, Martha and Elizabeth.  I  remember how beautiful they were, like their mother.  The sons were Johnnie, Thomas and Roy. I went to school with the younger two.

I knew Uncle Bert but don't remember a lot about him except he had a wife at one time [I think] named Lillian Griggs and a son Freddie who was just a little older than I.  Uncle Bert was known as quite a ladies man there at Holly Grove. All the Seacrist men were pretty darn good lookin'.

      Last was Uncle Aaron.  I don't remember where he lived, but know he had a wife and family.  I just saw him when he visited grandma.

     The Seacrist women were first, Amanda Neff, she had maybe 4 or 5 children and then gave birth to triplets.  As most of us know there have been lots of multiple births in this family.  However these babies did not survive and after staying in bed for so many days the way it used to be, when she did get up she also died, probably from a blood clot from not being active enough.  Not sure but think the next girl was Nancy Huffman.  She was a sort of reserved, stay at home, mind her own business kind of lady.  Since we lived next door to her and Uncle Ira, the two families were very close growing up together.  She didn't mind letting me know when I was doing something I shouldn't be doing. Her family was Herman Herbert, Louise, Kenner [Buddy] Aaron, Ethel, Homer and Juanita.  Then there was Flora Newcomer, the opposite of Aunt Nan, she was quite the "cut up" funny and didn't care what she said.  Her boys were Delbert, Denver, Dana, Dennis and Donald, her daughters that I remember were Laura, Ethel, Margaret and Katherine.  Pearl Bray was the youngest daughter, she had a son Everette Jr, one daughter and twin boys, Jimmy and Gene.

I can't swear about any of this, it isn't easy to pull all the things that I remember and many that I've only heard about from this old 89 year old brain. One person that has the sharpest memory about a lot of these things is Nancy Chappell, the granddaughter of Aunt Nan.

It is more than amazing to me to think of all of these people and their families that came from these two dear people, better known as Uncle Bud and Aunt Mag Seacrist.

 

What a Difference a Year Makes

That time of year is getting close, in fact June 21st is almost here, that is when we hope to be going to Charleston W.V. for our Seacrist Family Reunion. Last year I thought would be my last because of my slowing down physically but a few months ago, there I went, starting to make plans for another one that I truly believe will be my last.  I'm not feeling sorry for myself, just facing facts. The year has seemed to go by so fast but looking back so many things have happened, the saddest is losing my BEST friend, Richard after nearly 17 sweet years together.  He had not been able to go with me for the past few years but at least twice a day I always had to talk to him, even though I knew he was in good hands because his devoted daughter, Janis always came and stayed with him.   I will miss those calls this time, the way that I miss him every hour of every day.

I love seeing so many family members and friends. After all the years families have scattered to different parts of the country. Besides my five children, grandchildren and great grandchildren, I have so many nieces and nephews that I  love so very much, some that grew up with me and some that I watched grow up.  Believe me I have enough love to go around and it is returned to me. Last year we had the pleasure of seeing one nephew that we hadn't seen in a long time, sadly since that time he has passed away.

One thing for certain when you come from a large family there is a lot of joy along with a lot of tears.

I have described our little town of Holly Grove on Paint Creek that is so small and the fact that I moved from there 56 years ago, can still hold so many memories of places and things that "are no more".  The house I was born in with the outhouse still in the yard, though weather worn and empty, is still there but the well that my dad had dug  where I drew many buckets of the best cold clear water, where everybody drank from the same dipper, is no longer in use. The little one room school house, just a few yards from our house has been gone for many years, the little church on the little hill, called the church point, burned after being unused for years. The one place that will always "be" is the cemetery located just across the railroad tracks, that are no more, in the center of the town.

After all the years the memories are etched in my mind as though it was yesterday that I waded the creek, played the kids games at recess.  I was the "baby" of our family of 12 children, only 9 grew to be adults. Some were already married by the time that I can remember. 

It seems that each year the memories are more  "bitter sweet" as I go back ,and miss each one a little more. I wouldn't want to relive those times but am so glad to have had the pleasure,s o simple and uncomplicated, just lots of work, but filled with real love and caring for each other.

 I never dreamed I would live this long, I used to think 30 was old. I can still love and enjoy my "later years" family here at the Waterford.  As I once wrote, When you come to this time in life, no matter how your life has been, rich or poor, One Size Fits All.  We understand and appreciate  each other.

Seacrist Family Reunion

My few days at the old home place were just wonderful. So many of you have asked about it.  To you it might not have meant a lot but to me it will be another lasting memory. Family members that I had not seen in too many years, all products of Henry and Lydia Seacrist. I'm not sure of the numbers but there were between 50 and 60 of us there. Many more that would like to have come but distance, jobs, health and simply age got in the way.

Most of the ones of us from out of the area stayed at the same motel,The Country Inn,located about 15 miles from Holly Grove. The service there was outstanding, allowing us to have as many guest as we wanted, whether it be the pool, a good breakfast or the use of the kitchen area or the meeting room just to visit, and that we did, all of the above. There were no special shows or events to attend, even if there were, our interests were each other. You could see and feel the love that surrounded every person there. Four of my five children, two daughters in law,my only son in law, six grandchildren, eleven great grandchildren, and more nieces and nephews then I can count. Each and every one has a special place in my heart. Some I grew up with and baby sat with them when they were young, some baby sat or grew up with my kids, Juanita, the niece who is my guardian Angel made it possible for me to go, along with her daughter who did the driving and her great granddaughter, eleven years old was by my side all the way, making sure I was safe. 
 There was music and singing, my eleven year old granddaughter could belt out a song when you could talk her into it.

The mountains are so so beautiful.  We were not far from the beautiful gold dome of the state capitol. Then there was Holly Grove in contrast, not much change since I last saw it, one year ago, the house looks so lonely, the front porch still there, much smaller then it seemed years ago. As tears welled in my eyes I could see my brothers singing  hymns there on a Sunday morning. I could almost feel the cool rain water on my bare feet,in the low places in the front cement walk that my dad had made. The peonies and snow ball bush that my mother had planted as far back as I can remember are still there. The house is in bad shape and probably won`t be there too much longer. Nobody lives there now. The woman that lived there lived like a hermit, always depended on others to do things for her and her grandson told us that she wouldn't pay to have any work done. She was a hoarder and the whole place is awful inside, at one time there was even a copperhead in the pantry. She passed away in a nursing home and I have heard that she had a million dollars or more in the bank. Needless to say there is a lot of fighting going on in that family. I'm not "mean mouthing" her, she was my cousin and I cared very much for her.

I was tour guide for different groups that wanted to see the cemetery as well as other places of interest, mostly things that are no more. Our picnic at Coonskin park had to end after two thunderstorms, that's when we ended back in the meeting room at the motel. There was family there from Florida, South Carolina, North Carolina, Michigan, West Virginia, Indiana and New York. Lots of stories and laughs crammed into 4 days. The best of any vacation is getting back home. Can`t be away from my BEST FRIEND RICHARD for very long, as well as the rest of my Waterford family.

Kittie, My Sister, My Friend

I wrote this in Feb.2007, for Kittie's memorial service. I still miss her so very much.  She was the last of my family to leave.

   Almost 78 years ago we became sisters and as far back as I can remember,we have been best friends. We were proud to be coal miners daughters. We grew up through hard times,but we didn't know it. However, it made us appreciate everything later in life.

 At a very early age I became her mother figure, even though I was 9 years younger. She was the prettiest one in the family. When new babies were born, if they were pretty, they looked like Kittie.  If they were a little ornery, they were just like me.  Anyway we stood by each other in happy times and sad times. I always wanted to protect her and help fight her battles. If you don't believe it, ask her boys. She would do the same for me when she could.

 She was a classy lady,always proud, had beautiful hair. There were times we'd be waiting to take her to the hospital, and she would say "where is my pick?"  She could be a little bit hard to please. The clothes I'm wearing today, I sent to her for her birthday a couple of years ago.  She loved them EXCEPT,the pants were too hot and the tank top wasn't right. After she went to Millers Merry Manor, she said I could have them back, the pants and tank top but she was keeping the shirt. So here they are Kittie,I'm wearing them in your honor.

She loved to sing [we were like our mother that way] We sang when we were happy or sad or whatever was in between. Even after she lost most of her voice, she still tried to sing with me.
 In the last months there were times when I had to get tough with her but that's what mothers do.
She was a favorite aunt to all her nieces and nephews. Until she was forty years old, they were the ones for her to "dote" on. Then suddenly she had three wonderful boys of her own, She would always say her life truly began at forty. These big guys and her five grandchildren were her life. Her kids and my kids were "our" kids.

I know I will think of things I should have said here, but it would take too long. So many times in the past few years, she would say,"Lois it's just you and me against the world." I'm truly thankful that we had those years to travel that road together, sharing our deepest thoughts that are only known to us.

Anticipation

As I write this on Thursday June 4th, I`m thinking about a week from today.  If all goes well my nieces and I will be on our way to our Family Gathering in Charleston WV. There will be lots of reminiscing when we get together. Some of the nieces and nephews that I baby sat with now have grey hair and are gettin up in years. Even my children are all past 50 and some of the grandchildren are not far from 50. Where did it all go.
    The creek that I used to wade across is still there but with the exchange of property almost 70 years ago in order to build the first " car" bridge closed the path to that part of the water. I sometimes dream of those days when shoes were unheard of for kids in the summer,wading the cool clear water in the creek or ruts in the road after a warm summer rain.
  The 2 room school where my older siblings went to the 8th.grade. When I was old enough to go ,only one room was used,went through 3rd. My oldest children went there for a short time. The building is gone forever but so many memories remain,playing games,hopscotch,marbles, "Andy over the pigs in the clover,can`t get him out `til the ball goes over",as we threw the ball over the building. The hand water pump in the school yard,the his and her`s out houses. Who could forget that.
  The small hill where most of us attended church is still there but the building is no longer. The lot is empty where my grandma lived,and I spent many happy hours with her. She died when I was 12 When I see the spot it brings it all back like it wasn't that long ago. The house that I was born and raised in still stands, the paint is all chipping and the wood looks like it is about done for.The outhouse is still there. The swing is gone from the front porch  where we did some of our "courting" or just sat in the evening listening to the frogs, hoot owls,crickets and whip o wills. Also in summer people would gather around our fence to hear my brothers and sister in law sing hymns.
My mother always welcomed everyone,there was always food,nobody could ever make food as tasty as my mom.
  There are the fields where my dad and his mule tilled the ground and raised our food,all empty now,only the ground and memories remain.
 We will visit the cemetery hill where the population has grown in so many years. It will be bittersweet,with even more memories.
  I am so happy to be going back and it will be fun with lots of laughs and good to see the ones I haven't seen for many years.  Maybe speak to many times about remembering,but some day there won't be anyone to remember or even know about  OUR  memories.