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."...

Independence Day, 2065

It is the year 2065; I am the granddaughter of one of many who fought in the last century for the personhood of women and children in the United States. This was a difficult and complicated war for my grandmother, because it involved exposing so many practices that went on behind closed doors the public was deliberately made unaware of, or laws were passed in the wake of tragedies that lawmakers of the time failed to recognize were taking away what Constitutional rights existed before and during the early days of the millennium.

What didn’t exist in the previous century was the enforcement of individual rights for women and children. In the Constitution, the word ’person’ means and had been acted out in the practice of law and government as ’household’. This meant most women and children had no individual rights when actual protection was needed under law. Because so many people were not aware of this or didn’t go through something knowingly where their personal rights or survival were at stake, only those who sought protection as a last resort for their safety or the safety of their children found out at the worst possible time that the result they expected from what they knew as law often rendered an opposite result. It was Alice in Wonderland or the Twilight Zone, only real, and unimaginable to anyone who had not gone through it themselves.

The mentality of the public, shaped by media, government, and organizations who stood to continue gaining from keeping the public thinking differently tried to make my grandmother and her contemporaries look like they were only acting for themselves. In the public eye, according to the media, what happened to them must have been from something they did wrong or was a ‘mistake’ that didn’t happen very often. To make things worse, when my grandmother was my age, the United States remained the only other country besides Somalia (which had no government) not to ratify the UN Convention on the Rights of the Child. The practices that affected my grandmother and the children of those like her did go on in other countries, though in others, they didn’t.

Then after the events of September 11, 2001, The Patriot Act practically took away all Constitutional rights, allowing those in power to control the lives of people in the country more than ever. The president at the time had been quoted as wishing he could be a dictator; this was as close as he could get to accomplishing that, and the damages from the act and other practices affected anyone who wasn’t wealthy for generations. Many children, women, and others who were struggling without help died from negligence or abuse, while the root causes for the deaths were covered up and those responsible were not made accountable.

It was mostly men in power and women who were uninformed or supportive of those men without their own knowledge or who thought they were benefiting from such support (unknowingly or otherwise at their expense) that carried out the damages without a second thought or conscience for the consequences of their actions. They remained unexposed until my grandmother with others like her came together after their children had lost their childhoods to these practices for so many years of ’legal’ manipulation at what was called a ’tipping point’. Families and those who could reach those in government and the media who had integrity and a conscience began to listen, and investigate just how many people had actually gone through the same thing. It was too many to ignore. Children had died or been abused in many ways for so many years it threatened the stability of the country to continue to turn a blind eye to what had been happening. There were people who went to prison for knowingly allowing the practices to continue or assisting in the continuation of how things had been because money had been involved as an incentive for so many, when children and their mothers were regarded as property under the practice of law (not to be confused with written law itself, which mothers thought when they needed protection would be followed).

It was at about the same time that women who wanted to be with women and men who wanted to be with men were given the right to marry each other, as well as a half century of resolution toward women being compensated for the same work the same amount of pay for their own living and the lives of their children that were given to men for many decades. This also affected their ability in how much they could provide for their children if they chose not to be married or seek the support of someone else in the home. The family composition at this time had permanently changed; married couples with children were no longer the rule, yet those in power acted as if anyone who did not embrace or aspire to the former ’ideal’ were not worthy in general.

Today, because of my grandmother and those like her who came together at a critical part in history, I can get an education, earn a living, be with who I want or not, and have a child if I want without being afraid that someone will take them for no reason and write things that aren’t true in a ’legal’ document so they may profit from ’selling’ children as property at women’s expense to wherever the money is coming from. My father was one of the children who were silenced until they were of ‘legal’ age to tell others in their own voices.

My grandmother always said she had learned her values from her grandfather, a Native American, who respected the rights of others regardless of whether they were rich or poor, and was honored in his community for the achievements of his life. Women who did the same weren’t given recognition because of the ’patriarchal’ society that rare men like my great great grandfather were able to do some good in. My grandmother never forgot the example of her grandfather, and I will not forget hers. She didn’t know she could not enjoy with her child, my father, the rights I now have because of their sacrifices until she needed help under ‘law‘. She spent the rest of her life so that my father and our children would not suffer further. The world still isn’t perfect. Because of people like my ancestors, more of us may survive in peace as well as prosper much earlier in life, and the damages to the planet from previous generations will continue to be reversed as my generation makes it their priority.

Apologies for the unplanned hiatus, the family saga will continue as promised during the next post. Happy 4th.

April Fool: Unoriginal Title, Original Content

It's always an indicator if I don't make 'blog day' it's because there's so much going on I'm literally incapable of remembering what day it is, even if I thought of it earlier in the day. This time, I got in early evening after staying up almost all night without food in order to upgrade to a better dwelling on schedule. There is some peace of mind now that having been in a flood zone in the wake of Hurricane Sandy with another evacuation warning during hurricane season just the year before is really no longer an issue now.

I'm thankful and grateful having survived another displacement; there have been benefits, though not without stress. There are others who had it so much worse; we were still among the fortunate. And there were lessons learned, about the generosity of others not previously experienced in an area not well known for its compassion or hospitality. I wanted to leave New York, and ended up on Staten Island. Despite all that's happened, it's been a mixed blessing to have been here during and after the "superstorm". Even though the trauma of having lost everything more than once before was temporarily reactivated, the coping and recovery were more bearable because of so many dedicated as volunteers who traveled from across the country and staying for months on end until their assignments were finished. Most are scheduled to return home at the end of the month: the six month mark from the day after the storm.

It was not only those from elsewhere who gave generously of their irreplaceable time and other resources; it was also the nicest of New Yorkers: the true New York's Finest, as well as a few NYPD officers who actually fit the description that has referred to them in the past. There are nice native New Yorkers, they're just much fewer and further between than say, West Virginia, where typical New Yorkers who go there experience a reverse culture shock. The first state under the Mason Dixon that marks the beginning of 'the south' is known for its hospitality. To a New Yorker, people who say 'hello' to strangers and are 'nice for no reason' are almost impossible to tolerate.

In the northeast, and especially in 'the city', unless one is of the few generous-hearted who surfaced and stepped up in the wake of a 'superstorm', such behavior in their experience only happens when something is sought in exchange. Not so for West Virginians, and volunteers who displaced themselves for the better part of a year to be available and assist others who lost everything. I can only hope to be in a position in the future to do the same, or something similar. Meanwhile, the family secret saga resumes next month, about some native West Virginians two generations ago of the same blood as this author, authored by my grandfather's sister.

It is being copied from less than a hundred pages of hand written notes; and now more than half complete here. More will unfold as the story continues, woven into what has become our lives today. I don't remember ever having met my grandfather's sister, though I did know her offspring. One I didn't know was such until after their death, and it was just as well. Had I known then it may not have made a difference, though the effects of those contacts have affected more than one life forever.

I don't know how many others were also hurt; I only know when I heard grandpa's nephew had passed I was not sad. Only until I read what his mother had written did I know we were related, many years later, relatively recently.

Family Secrets, Another 'Chapter'

"Well I will have to tell you about my oldest brother Bill when he was a young man he and another fellow decided they would take a trip out west and out west they went. but they were as glad to get back to W.Va. as they were to go. they sure got a lot of expereance while they were gone. According to thier tales it was about as rough as it is pictured, but any way they never wanted to go back out west. that is enough of that. Bill got married after he was back for awhile. he married Alma Wilkerson. they were parents of 4 sons and 2 daughters. Woodrow Clarence Willard and Billie Madeline and June were the girls names. Well as I told you be-fore Brother Bill as accidentally electrocuted while at his work. his wife Alma is living with the youngest daughters June Bledsoe. Well now I will have to say something about my brother Walter he is my hunting brother. he loves to hunt more than he loves to eat. and is he good at it. he loves to hunt bear, deer, rabbit squirrel grouse or anything. and he does this anually - he married Ella Smith a very sweet girl and wife they have three fine children. two sons and one daughter. Harry and Arthur are the boys name. and Mary is the girl. she is well learned in her books and music. at present in high school. Harry is married and lives in England with his fine wife Margie and thier son and daughter. Then there is Arthur. he is going to Bible School in Florida at present. my brother Walter works for the Blackburn. Patterson Co. at present. My sister Ella Thompson is like my-self a widow. she and her husband Ramond. had two sons. Maxwell was the oldest. he died in service in Frankford Germany. and then the youngest was Jean he married Ruth Gubalin a very fine girl and they are the parents of two fine children. Mark and Susan. he works for Bell Telephone Co in Rantorel Ill. my sis live alone and a lonly life. then there is my sister Nell Stevens she and Emory Stevens were married they didn't think they would have any children of thier own. so they went to the Davis Child Shelter and adopted a 3 weeks old red headed baby boy. they were very fond of him. in about a year after they had adopted Jack. they discovered she was going to have a baby of her own. so she had two boys and two girls. the boys were Gaylan and Jimmie who is passed away. The girls are Nancy and Patty. they now live in Del. then there is my sister Gussie she married Ronald Perry. A fine boy they have one fine daughter Montana they gave her a good education. sent her to Beckley College. later she came in-to a good job. but with all this the love bug bit her so she and her Lover took off to Va. and got hitched - to Mickie Romins - so at present they are living in Ill. they sure were missed a lot and we hope some time they will be back in this neck of the woods. it hurt her mother and Dad a lot. but this is just one of them things. Well I must say something about my youngest Brother Gray. he was such a fine boy he stayed at home and took care of my mother after my father died for a long time. then he met and married Millie Brackman. a very fine young woman. he and she were real good Christians. Active in Church work he was Deacon of Sun Dial Church at the time of his death. he had that dreadful thing T.B. so this meant a great loose. to us all. Millie was book keeper at Birchton Co Store. and he worked at the Hoist. untill he got disable to work they owned a nice home but. After he was gone she came up here to Mt. Hope W.Va. and at present is living with her mother and Dad Mr. and Mrs. Brackman. she is working as book keeper for New River Co. Well I must say something about my Oldest Sister Minnie who married Silas Tucker. as I said she was called away by that old dreadful deisease Cancer they raised six children. Lillian. Roy. Chleo, Gertrud. Ronald. (Tucker) he is now gone. also Chleo. Bill. Roy and Bill married Sisters. so also their children are double first cousins. well this is just one of them things that happens. they live in Oak Hill at present. Writing all this may be crazy of me. but I feel much better since I have been going back in those bye gone days to write these few de-tails. because I doubt very much that any of the rest of my folk will remember I know they will remember some of these but some don't. so I think they will enjoy reading this. it will no doubt be a blessing to them I have wrote this with a very heavy heart. but it has helped me not to be so lonesome. As I am here by myself so much. for as I started to say my son Gilman has been in the
hospital in Oak Hill for two weeks with a case of the Flu and Bronical trouble. I have prayed so hard that the Lord will touch his body and let him be at home with us soon again. Pat his wife has been with him evry day since he has been there. so this is a reliefe to me to know she is with him and I always hear evry night as to how he is getting along so while I have been here at home alone I have been digging back in the ages to drag out some of these old moth eaten items to write about. I just like to write anyway. so I thought as I had my corrosponding caught up. I would jot down a few lines. We have been having about two weeks of rainy weather and what I mean real blue days but I guess we well have to take the Ground Hogs advice for a few weeks yet. I guess we can take it."

Now past the 'halfway' point...

Family Secrets IV

Continuation from September, as promised:

"After I was married; Though first I must tell you my Husband's name was Frank McGee Tucker. The McGee was after Dr. McGee. so his family always called him Dock after the Dr. Well anyway. Dock worked at the Sheerwood Mines. he had a three room house rented and our furnature in it two weeks be-fore we were married. we were married on Wednesday night. then we went to our new home Thursday morning. our house hold goods cost us $127.50. Dock got them from the Company Store. we made $10.00 monthly payments on them. they consisted of one bedroom suit. one extra iron bed stead springs and mattress and bed clothes. one straw matting for the bedroom. I scrubed the kitchen hall and extra bedroom. with a brush. we had a real fine #7 Torch light stove. I was just as happy with my new home and evry thing as if I had a mansion. I would polish my stove every saturday. it shined. I had a glassed doored safe a cook table. and an eating table and 6 hard chairs. and two Rockers and some other odds and ends - these were my happy days - Dock run a moter in the mines. he was making $2.25 per day when we were married but on this amount we lived payed our rent and made our $10.00 monthly payments on our furnature. and then our pay days were once a month but he never missed drawing money and we had been married six months he got a .25 [cent] raise we sure was glad to know he was getting $2.50 per day. but then our living was so different from what it is now. I could go to the co. store and buy a basket ful of groceries. for $2.00 but them days are gone forever I am afraid. but let me tell you they were good ones and I'll never forget them. Well its like this in about 10 months. we had our first baby a girl Florence Louise. she was a very sweet baby. and kept me busy with all the rest of my house work. but I sure enjoyed it. and when she was 21 months old. we had our Boy baby Gilman Emory. so I really was kept busy from then on. but I made it and this is all of our brood - we were both very proud of our children and they were good to mind. I always taught them to mind their Daddy he never whiped eigher of them I was the one that made them mind. I don't think they either one hold anything against me for the way I brought them up. I only did what I thought was right. when they got old enough I took them to Sunday School and Church and tried to do the best I could for them to the best of my ability. At all this time I can say I enjoyed my family. Although like many other people my heart was burdened and very heavy many many times through my life but who does not have these same things happen to them. so I count my self lucky after all. I am glad it was through these hard trials I found the Lord and learned to let him help me with my burdens and trials he is our present help in trouble I learned that a long time ago. when our son Gilman came down with Bronical trouble when he was 4 years old with our care and work he out grew it. and then when he was a larger boy he had an enlarged heart. but he seemed to out grow that to a certain extent. it is things like this that makes us seek the Lords help.
Well he has grown up and married now and has a married son of his own. now he is almost through surving four years work for Uncle Sam - My Daughter Louise wo is older than Gilman is now married and as I said before the mother of three children she lives at MacArthur W.Va., so since I am a widow. I just try to divide my time be-tween my two children and my two sisters and one brother and I have a host of friends. and I go out and stay with sick people who need help. it helps me to help some body that I know needs my help. so here I have rattled along with a lot of things that may not be of any interest to some people but I have been impressed to do this and that is why I have started this and I don't know just how far I will go" [...]

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.

Sandy Town Hall Meeting/family secrets

The impact of the Superstorm will be felt in this community for years to come. There are businesses that still have not reopened; people that have not returned to their homes. Many wish to be bought out, never to return to their former areas where destruction and death occurred. Some have nothing left and still nowhere to go; some are living in cars, guarding over their properties yet to have electricity, heat, or water restored.

This was confirmed at a town hall meeting last night at the high school nearest to one of the most devastated areas. In the beginning, it was standing room only, with most public officials on the stage. The president came the week before Thanksgiving, a holiday I took the time to research that had its own aftermath I'm almost ashamed I didn't know earlier. Some of the people in the town hall meeting had spoken to the president, some were in photos posted on Facebook. Nothing was happening for most in a timely manner. The Red Cross going around in neighborhoods ringing a bell for hot meals or distributing blankets was no longer enough. The food and clothing had either run out, had become limited, or moved to other locations most didn't want to go to.

As the town hall progressed the crowd thinned as hours passed; some went into the high school cafeteria where agency representatives continued to provide updated information or additional resources. Most who had left the auditorium had finished what they either had to say or heard enough, most leaving without the answers they sought, still discouraged and frustrated. There had been tear-filled voices in the microphones, and anger. There were notes taken, with no timelines guaranteed, or practical acceptable solutions for those with serious concerns, many of which were being heard for the first time. I took photos to remember, including the media cameras and their reporters, none of which I saw later on the 11 o'clock news, simply because I didn't watch.

The reality was on the ground, in this community, and others hit as hard. Recovery will take years. They say another storm of this magnitude in the near future is unlikely; it's no consolation to those whose feelings range from uncomfortable to a despair that their homes no longer exist or if rebuilt will be subject to the same destruction the next hurricane season; there's no guarantee it won't be next year, in the next decade, or the next century. There is no protection from the ocean; there will be more storms. No one wishes to be in the path of any at any time, never knowing when the next 'big one' will hit.

I was given a list of real estate options to explore in the event I chose to move out of a flood zone in one of the less affected areas, where many street lights remained out and generator lights still shined their ghostly brightness to the hum of their motors, a sound now associated with trauma and uncertainty, not for the first time.

I had planned to continue the family story written by my grandfather's sister who passed away before I knew of her, which will continue. It contains within it the seeds of deeply buried family secrets I didn't realize until reading it as it unfolds in tolerable installments here. She never knew how her son really lived later in life. I'm sure she was an okay woman, whose child was exposed to and committed an unthinkable act. She likely died before it happened; I'm not sure. I only realized until reading her story why some things did or didn't happen during my childhood, when I expected more, when I expected to be protected and believed. Had the truth been known or dealt with, the consequences could have been more devastating than a hurricane, though not as much as a child's trust betrayed or dismissed.

Howloween Sandy

We interrupt our regularly scheduled family history installment for a breaking story on Hurricane Sandy. I’m in a high school gym, that I’ve only been to previously for work. Now I’m on a cot. I’m told our apartment is dry, though it’s inaccessible until the lake that was the street returns to an inroad instead of a river. Everyone on the other side is stranded, unless they have an emergency, where police and the fire department have been getting some across in boats. I went back twice, with the only result being my taking five people, two dogs and one rabbit, who had spent the night in a dark, cold, wet terror to the evacuation center I’d come from and friends’ houses.

Some lost everything. There are no stores or outlets to travel out from the other side. Those who remain are on higher ground that we hope have stocked up for the duration. They have electricity, with most of their cars and homes intact. Some were not so lucky; some were rescued from roofs or upper floors in wet clothes. They were where the streets were lower. Was on the phone with my child who had called for an update at the same time I had walked a couple of blocks later in the day to see if either the water had gone down or if I could get across. The answer was priority boat assisted evacuation only.

It was understandable. If I were to be taken across, this wasn’t a 24/7 water taxi service. Work was to be attended the next day. I would have likely ended up stranded come the next morning, unable to leave, our car that survived the storm as I’d heeded the evacuation warning parked on the side of civilization. Close, yet not an option to swim to if the water had not gone down much or the emergency crews were not available.

Scores of years since the last flood of this magnitude, in this part of the country, maybe even a century. The trauma hasn’t hit me yet, though we were among the lucky. For what it kicks up regarding past experiences brings everything back. Including the residual trauma. Had we been able to leave, closer to family when the time was appropriate, we would not be here at all. The hurricane didn’t go there.

With one exception, another single mom with a daughter my child's age who happens to be an accountant, I didn't know the names of any of them. When the dogs' names were spoken, being at each other in a small car, the names left my memory as soon as they were uttered. We were and are all still recovering from a temporary displacement with deep emotional reverberations. I empathized with the thirst of days without food or water, still not knowing for certain what I would be going back to myself.

Everything that day was on a moment to moment basis, and is somewhat the same today, Halloween: another anniversary when my first and only child's conception was announced six weeks into the first trimester. Every day was almost dreamily surreal then: the shock of carrying a child after I'd given up it was even possible. Now that child is reportedly carrying a pillowcase to collect candy he'll likely give away or will not be consumed; it's all just too much, as are the secrets for now, though the desire to participate overshadows any trepidation.

The mall is filled with costumed children that are hard to look at for the memories that are stirred: the innocent face looking up in anticipation for the plastic pumpkin to be filled, store to store in the old neighborhood, brimming over before the children's parade began. The candy that would never be finished, again, in a way just as well, though the feelings that have accompanied since have been so unnecessary.

The lightness of childhood became heavier, a grain of sand at a time, until they became virtual sandbags to a young psyche. Life is now emptying the sandbox, a scoop at a time (sometimes a pinch, sometimes a teaspoon), so that not fully grown toes can dig themselves in, and remember all the happy thoughts, without guilt that was never theirs from when it began, imposed and accepted, as children do.

Here's to no longer longingly gazing at an animal wished to be their own, for it will be, and the sandbox, and the complimenting Howloween costume, the pair will be the toast of their own parade, with more smiles returning. Sandy the hurricane is just a bump in the road by comparison. The storm in this life so far is the interim between one anniversary and the one that makes up for all of the others, during a childhood.

Family History, continued

"in the 1902 strike we were living at what they called Sugar Creek. it is now Stadium Terrace now. but when we lived there it was just an old mining camp. Well when the men came out on strike. the company gave us a house notice to vacate at once which we did. my dad rented a three room house over on packs branch. you could throw a cat through the cracks. we all almost froze that winter. and while we were there my Dad had a little extra trouble. he drank at that time so he took his shot gun and started hunting. but in the mean time he went over to the saloon in Mt. Hope. and got drunk of course he still had that old shot gun. so the company had up no Trespassing notices. so my Dad walked in to the Boiler Room there at Sugar Creek. and pointed his gun at one of them mens feet and told him to dance. so about that time one of the guards blowed the whistle and they picked him up and sent him to Huntington Jail for Trespassing on their property so he had to reside in jail over two weeks then the union men got him out. so he was home again. Then he went down on Cabin Creek. to Red Warriors. and got a job in the mines there. he worked a long time there. but something happened at the mines there all the mines came out on strike so. we were notified to vacate our house when one day 27 armed guards with thier Winchesters rifels came in and set evry thing we had out in the road. and it happened it started raining that day and all night. so all of our household goods took all that rain. My Dad went to Dry Branch and rented a place to store our things. un-til he could find another job and another house for us to live in. so the family all scattered out some to one place and and some to another un-til Dad got another place to live. he got a job at McDonald and we moved there. and the family all got back to-gether again. we lived there awhile then. they wanted him to come to Turkey Knob . and be Stable Boss. there at that time they used lots of mine mules so we lived there for a good while then my mother took a notion she wanted to move to the country. so my Dad rented a log house high up on the mountain above Price Hill. and we lived there for about two years. Dad worked in the Price Hill Mines. so Mother took a notion to move down off the mountain. so Dad rented a house at Sherwood WVa so we moved there. my Dad worked in the Sherwood Shaft Mines. which has long been abandoned. we lived in that house for a while. and Mother decided she would like to move up on top of the hill so Dad rented a nice five roomed house on top of the hill. we moved up there. but she decided she wanted a house on the other end of the other row of houses. so it was move again. and it was the last house we had moved into. was where I was married 1908. My sister Minnie also. so we had our own houses then. but don't think for one moment that Mother stopped moving she moved many more times after this. I still hate to think of all them old dirty houses I have had to scrub and clean. back in those days we just had bare floors to scrub with a brush or broom. we never had it quiet as easy as we have it now. Wash on the washboard all day. then iron with irons you heat on the stove. use oil lamps. this was my job to clean those lamp chimneys and fill the lamps up with oil so we would have a good light for night time. real sharp. Oh well as I said we were all very happy together. Cook up a big black pot of beans and a pan of corn bread or biscuits. fry up a big skillit of beef steak. and make some of that good old mommy made gravy. some country butter and milk it was real good to set your feet under the table. Well so much for that."

'Family', continued (again, as written)

"I was almost 22 years old when I met my husband Frank M. Tucker we went together six months. and were married. in the mean time his younger brother Silas was dateing my younger sister Minnie. soon they were married. in July 2nd 1908. in August 27 1908 Frank and I were married. [2] Brothers married [2] sisters. this makes our children double first cousins. some mixup. just one of those things. Well Frank and I had two children. my first was a girl we named her Florence Louise. then we had our boy. we named him Gilman Emeory. Louise grew up and married Elmie W. Hill. they have three children two girls and one boy. His name is William Clegg Hill. the oldest girl Freda May married Don C. Lilly. and Hazle married L. D. Hartwell. William married Jo Richards. of Beckley WV. a very sweet girl. and of course the girls got fine men too. My son Gilman met and married a very sweet Scotch Lassie by the name of Hellan. We called her Pat frome patrick she was working in a sweet shop when he met her. to this union is one fine GrandSon Frank Matthew Tucker. we are very proud of him. he has been serving his country for almost four years. his time will be out in March. we sure will be glad to see him home again. In the mean time. he was dating a very sweet girl by the name of Shirley Jackson of Mt. Hope W.V. they have been married over three years now so it will mean a lot to all when he gets home once more. we are going through a very trying time just now. Gilman has been sick for most three months and at present is in the Oak Hill Hospital he has a virus of some kind. Pat that is his wife goes to the hospital every day. will I have been going like a house on fire. and haven't got very far but I hope I have got a few things off my chest. I forgot to say much about my own family. I will say a few words about my brothers and sisters of which some is very sad.
My oldest Brother. William Fanning Cheek. was electrocuted accidentally and my youngest brother Victor Gay Cheek died of T.B. I only have one living brother at present. Walter H. Cheek. he lives here in Mt. Hope WVa. he works for the Blackburn Patterson Co. and my oldest sister Minnie Lee Cheek Tucker she died with Cancer my next Sister Ella Cheek Thompson who lives here in Mt. Hope at present she is a widow now. I have another sister Nell Cheek Stevens. she lives in Williamington Del. and I have another sister Gussie Rea Cheek Perry she and her husband Ronald live here in Mt. Hope WVa too. my youngest sister Agnes Cheek Batten. She died with Cancer also. My Father died in 1918 with Flue. My Mother died with cancer also. so it seems I am left here for some-thing. I do love to help other people and do what I can do for them. I am glad I have the Lord in my life. he helps me through so many trials and dark places. It has not been a bed of roses but you know we all have to take the bitter with the sweet. well getting back to my earlier days. I told you about my Father being a coal miner. he was a very devout union man. he held an office in the Local. and they sent him two different times to the miners convention in Indianapolis Ind. but you can just bet your bottom dollar. that as soon as there was any trouble about the miners. they always picked on my Dad." To be continued.