Family Secrets, Concluded?

The lady I don't ever remember meeting that was Grandpa's sister was the mother of someone I was told or had the impression was a 'friend of the family'. To say he acted 'inappropriately' on more than one occasion would be a serious understatement. I didn't know we were actually related when he did what he did more than once. I told and nothing was done.

Having read my great aunt's story and referring to her son I realized perhaps for the first time this was my grandfather's nephew. Grandpa was the patriarch of the family and an ex policeman. Had he found out what his nephew had done to his granddaughter, he may have taken the law into his own hands.

Grandpa was a deacon in the church, with a perfect driving record, who would do anything to protect his family. He could have seriously harmed or 'taken out' his nephew for violating his granddaughter. Maybe that's why no one told him, or nothing was done.

When this person passed away, I was relieved, and even happy. Have not felt that way about a death before or since.

Family Secrets VI

Thanks to anyone who has actually been following this blog. It's hard to imagine it's been so long since not only making a family entry, but skipping months in addition: both signs that life has been a little intense. The following is the next segment in the real life family secrets handwritten tome by my grandfather's sister.

"I must say a few words about my youngest sister Agnes Batten she and her husband Earnest Batten reared one son Clarence E. Batten. he and his fine wife Evylen live at Smithers W.Va. at present they have two fine little girls. he drives one of those large tank TEXACO oil trucks. speaking of trucks I forgot to say that Gilman has been truck driver for the Applachain power co for over 20 years he recieved his 20 year pin with 4 real diamonds in it. one diamond for every five years this is a wonderful company and have sure been grand to him. I cant thank them enough for their kindness to him. Oh yes I forgot to tell you about my moving sister Ella. of course I think she takes it after our mother you remember I told you how she liked to move. Well Ella is a chip off the old block. she has moved so much, she is ashamed to call and have her utilities changed again I hope she will stay where she is for a while now. here is hoping so anyway.

Well getting back to my relatives I forgot to say I had another uncle Will Wees. he is younger than I believe uncle John well anyway, he married Ida Waters and they reared a family of children too. there was Bettie Grace Charlie and Elsia then he and his wife seperated. and some time after that he went down on Paint Creek at Morton, W. Va. and met a Mrs. Blizzard and married her. they were both good Christians and were very active in church work. but has now passed on. but they always lived away from us so we couldent visit very much with them. as I said be-fore I had an Aunt Susan and Uncle Tom Holt. he came from Ill. to these parts as a school teacher. so he and Aunt Sue got married. they also reared a family Ida, Lizzie, Clara Tommie Bessie and Vivian. they are the ones that lived on my mothers old home place high up on a mountain in the country. so this was always heaven to me to get to go up there and visit with them they always made you feel so welcome. I will always remember the good old days we spent to-gether when we were young. Clara and I are about the same age. Lizzie was older, she weighed over three hundred pounds. she died of dropsy. she was never married. Ida the oldest married Meltz Wiltshire. Clara married Grover Pack. Bessie married Ed Beasley. and Vivian married Basil Hinkle. I forgot who Tommie married. but he has passed on now too. Well enough of that I will now say a few things about our moving around. as I said when Dock and I were married we started house keeping on Sherwood Hill. there used to be a double row of houses on top of that hill. then there was a large company store along there where Mrs Carter lives now. but when the mines worked out the store and all those houses on top of the hill were torn down. and took away We moved off the hill down close to the mines. and here is where I lived when Gilman was born. in Mar. 5, 1911. Well we lived there until he was eight weeks old then we moved to Oswald. we lived there for some time then we moved to Price Hill then and from Price Hill to Skelton, then back to Price Hill. In the mean time Dock had a good friend that he ran around with. by the name of Charles Renick at that time Mrs. Renick was book keeper for New River Co. he owned two lots down at Dunbar W.Va so got to talking to Dock to buy one of his lots. he asked $5,00.00 for the one lot Well we talked it over and desided we would take it. he let us have it $10.00 down $10.00 per month, so after we had paid $150.00 on it we found out we couldent build a house on it under $2000.00 so he had a chance to sell his contract to a man for $250.00. so he sold it and then, he was talking with Mr. Garret at that time he was Squire Garret. he is Pat Garretts Dad - so he told Dock he had a house for sale. he told him he would sell it to him for $650.00 $100.00 down and $12.50 per month until he got it paid for. so that was the deal. we bought it and then in the mean time we had moved to another house at Price Hill. so we moved into our own house for once in a life time. it is now that old two story house back of a beer joint on the corner at the stop light. Well as I said we moved in after we got it cleaned up. A colored woman by the name of Lil Hill had lived in the house be-fore we moved in so it was a mess. full of filth and cockroaches well anyway we finally got it live-able so we lived there for eight years. we had very fine neighbors and a host of friends Mr. and Mrs. Ambros Lemasters, Charley Perry and wife Dachie Gus Pinson, and Maggie but it seemed Mrs. Lemasters and us were very close friends. I love her as a sister. and her Grand son as my own child. Clarence Wray was his name he and Gilman grew up to-geather they were just like brothers to one another Clarence's mother, Hazle. they always called her (Cat). was Mr. and Mrs. Lemasters only child. so they were very crazy about her. so she went to school here in Mt. Hope and she and her boy-friend eloped to-gether they went to Charleston and were married she wrote a letter right back to her parents tell them about it. they boys name was Clarence Wray a real fine boy. he worked in the mines at Derry Hale. they went to house keeping there. it hurt Mr. and Mrs. Lemasters very much. after they went to house keeping, Mrs. Lemasters would go down to see her most every day. then she rode the K. GJ and E. train. but her dad never did go. then they had been married a month or two when he was killed suddenly in the mines. A kettle bottom fell from the roof of the mines. so she got to come back home. she was pregnant with Clarence when the girl grieved and worried so much over her husband, her folks were as good to her and her baby as they could be. but she came down with T.B. and when Clarence was 15 months old, his mother died. so they buried her in Wild Wood Cemetary in Beckley W.Va. so Mr. and Mrs. Lemasters reared Clarence and was always good to him. he had a good home. he soon grew up and found him a mate by the name of Virgie Patton they were married. thier first child was born dead. but they have reared four more children. Carrol Hazle Clarence and Patty. Carrol is now married and lives in Texas-poor Virgie had a nervous break down and is in Ill. at present Clarence has to be Mother and Dad to the children. but after all they have made it. I think he has done a pretty good job after all I only hope and trust that things will turn out good for all of them. well enough of this."...

Sandy and family secrets III

The previous generation of family secrets lies waiting following the continuing hurricane recovery. We now know even more firsthand how it feels when the rest of the world has forgotten and what remains to be rebuilt will take years for those directly affected. I remember Katrina, and how some places have yet to recover completely. For many here a similar story exists, with impacts that are physical or visible, and wounds festered on an emotional level that may not ever go away entirely.

Helping others has taken some of the sting away. Many of us are grateful not as much was taken from us this time, so that ideally we may assist others in greater need. The only difference in those serving or being served is a zip code.

There are other secrets this generation as well, indirectly related, though no less painful. I will not betray a trust or what exists with something so priceless and valuable. There will be another way for what is essential to surface; it will not come from a disclosure in confidence from who specified it go no further. It's not the kind of harm others readily recognize. Perhaps only those it has also happened to can really understand. It wasn't the same as the generation before, and for that I must remain grateful at this time. The impact, however, is just as lasting and deep, only in a much different way.

Now is the time identity is formed; I will never forget being ridiculed by my own elders. It hurts no less remembering it now, because it affected my potential for moving on in an ideal way. Things like that I can understand may have happened for a reason. For other things, it simply isn't possible to comprehend. There's no good reason for some things to have turned out the way they have, especially when steps were taken specifically to prevent what is happening now and continues from too long to endure the thought of.

There was no protection, only profit from lack of it for others. Preventing protection apparently is a business under the appearance of something else. It appears to be another form of trafficking for monetary gain. The casualties are in the tens of thousands across this country, and those in the north as well. The children are those who suffer most; adults die or become ill from the toll alone. How it affects the entire family is not a consideration. How it affects children lasts a lifetime, becoming other people than who they may have been if safety had been preserved, if someone had put humanity before short term gain or other agendas.

Like a lost home from a natural disaster or otherwise, we can only salvage what's possible in the moment, taking one day at a time, one breath at a time, one step at a time. It almost discounts or dismisses what I was not able to resolve as a child myself in a way I can live with. This is bigger, or that's the way it feels. It's not just us, though there's no consolation that the spectrum contains even more severe circumstances and stories that have also not been told.

This has to stop, or the country will no longer be great. It isn't all about humans for profit in systemic settings as an American 'dirty secret'. There's no one to blame but those here, not outside terrorists. Looking the other way or turning a blind eye is participation, direct engagement is a crime. The gap is narrowing; accountability is on the horizon. The practices cannot continue.

We must know darkness to shine a light, even when the darkness is our own. We have borrowed the planet from our children, as our parents did from us. It was given to us in a state of extreme disrepair with many parts broken. All of the technology we have now cannot artificially reproduce what it takes to adequately repair the damages, especially when they continue. We will not continue screaming in the wind. Our country standing for something is not a given unless we take care of our own. All credibility is lost otherwise, and on the world stage it simply becomes entertainment or cause to further estrange us from moving forward in any way at all.

It's a new year tomorrow, I've been the same age for three years now, and for as long as I can get away with it, maybe a few more. The truth is useful in being closer to another version of retirement, when work becomes for you instead of someone else. My funniest uncle said he wanted to go back to work so that he could have weekends off of his retirement. Being with family, no matter how much work, is not to be given up on. And it will not.