Memories of the past, sorrow, things to think about this Sunday in Eaton!

Marti Howell Collins

I can truly say it has been another one of those weeks.  Sad since the Neighbors have lost two from our small group… Harry Schenk and the Rev. Tom Clark.  In a city that would not be many people... but in a small community where everyone knows everyone... it is.  It is something we think about and reflected upon.

After some humor in finding we sent the wrong new history book copy to the printer (was someone too tired?)… with the help of Marti Howell Collins one of our new members who is an expert editor…the book is done and will be printed and picked up Monday!  If you would like a copy to replace the one you have... contact one of the group.  Actually it is a collectable as only 12 or 14 were printed and it followed the pattern of the fun”cut and paste-mistake ridden” things we put out for the Bicentennial in 1995…no spell check on our little word processor then!

Our float...

The parade this year included a float with a gigantic sign put together by Steve and Judy Goodfriend.  The sign obviously worked…there were almost no bake goods left!  Our small community parades have gotten smaller...down to only 10-15 minutes long. I think it is time for the communities to start making their Memorial Day Parades what they used to be.  Now everyone goes to Hamilton on the Fourth with a float. It is wrong, we need our communities to come together around their own community not promote another…oh well.

Time passes slowly for the young but faster and faster every day as we get older, in the end memories are all we have left of our friends and loved ones.  I have thought about this.  I spent much time digging up clips for the movie on the Bicentennial of 1995, yet few people bought them…really you should.  In it is the history of our town and community for that year.  In viewing it, it is sad to see so many who are no longer with us… and yet wonderful so see the young who are now adults with children of their own.  If you would like one I have some videos for sale at Dougherty’s and or you can go on line and order a book or a video… all precedes benefit the museum. www.historystarproductions.com.

The Historic Eaton Church celebrated its 183 Anniversary this week.  It is still so nice to hear that historic Meneeley Bell ring on Sunday’s as well as important to note that Tom Clark was one of the reasons that it is still here. The church is still a viable part and important of the community.

To all those that took time to come out and help us celebrate our Anniversary…Thank You!  You are the reason we keep doing these community gathering events.  Yes they are a remembrance of the past…but they are also a reminder of what is good in small town America, in part and parcel... a ray of hope for the future.

View our video and remember our friends no longer with us!

Yes folks.. it is the end of summer...Labor Day... and Elderberry time! Whoo Hoo!

Well folks it is that time of year again...yes "Elderberry Time".  A time when full grown older women wander roadsides and hills looking for and picking bushes with Elderberries on them.

Went over to Pat Utter's porch with Cathy Nagle the other dayand there was Pat sitting in a chair with the largest bowl I have ever seen on her lap... picking the little stems off of what seemed like a million Elderberries.

For those who do not know what they look like they are miniature berries attached to a stalk with miniature stems that you have to pull off....time consuming...Oh Yeah!

My friends Nellie and Pauline would go picking and then spend hours with TWEEZERS picking the little stems off of them...hours and hours of work.  They were also so possesive of their patch of bushes you had to be "in" to know where they were, and of who got the berries from those bushes.

One year we all went Elderberrying (as I called it) and it was a banner year.  They totted home bags and bags of the tiny fruit... and so did I.  I also put together the Labor Day picnic out in my side yard and all the neighbors gathered for the last big hurrah of the summer... with yes... fresh elderberry pie as dessert.

During the festivities a friend Marlene stopped and seeing the elderberry pie exclaimed that her mother was just talking about them...too bad she could no longer get around...and Marlene wished she could get some...so her and her mom could do their tradition of cleaning and baking a pie. So I gave her my bag that they could clean together and bake with...  This gesture was not welcomed by my neighbors...in unison "Why my nerve giving away elderberries from "their" patch!"  I was shocked.

So not wanting to offend I climbed Lebanon Hill and went to where I was told there was a stash and picked two bags full and brought them to then as a peace offering...where as tradition had it, Pauline sat for hours pulling the little stems with covetous glee....

I am sure that everywhere in this rural area there are home freezers filled with berries that will never be used...but that seem like the thing to have stored...

Pat said, "And they are FREE!"  Hmmmm $3.89 a gallon for gas to run around in your car to get them, hours cleaning and storing, electricity to freeze them...but free for the picking...AND OF COURSE....TRADITION!

Here is a link to my other article and below a poem....

http://backstreetmary.blogspot.com/2013/08/memories-elderberry-timefriends-in.html

Elderberry Time

As August’s sun heats the hills,

And balmy breezes fill the air,

We set about in bright green color, 

Searching for the fruit of summer there.

Up steep hills, across the pasture, 

Down against the forest’s wall, 

We seek a tiny little prize: 

The smallest berry of them all.

Then about a tattered building,

In a patch thick and tall,

We spot the booty we were seeking 

And try quite quick to pick them all.

The gleaming dark purple color 

Gives a clue to what they’ll be: 

For in a pie or in a bottle, 

The fruit is the “Elderberry”. 

Tornados, storms, neighbors, loss and Jimmy Durante!

Few, who celebrated the Fourth of July after Madison County lifted its travel warning, seemed to give thought to their neighbors in distress.  Not even the press really covered the impact of it…. although now with trails closed in Brookfield perhaps a few might wonder what happened. People going through Pooleville might think about it as it looks so different. Roads were closed... Hubbardsville Fire Department had to clear trees to get out of its station (30 on one side 60 one the other) Some of the local fire departments and farmers in the area tried to clear roads…the old way of helping your neighbor... but few others.

The tornado that struck in Smithfield garnered all the publicity and the deaths were a heart-rending end to two weeks of thunder, rain and hail, it finally brought the public out…

All these days I had been thinking of my old family and neighbors who would turn out to help at any time of trouble…they are all dead now.  I felt sad to think of them.  In so many ways they were the pioneering stock that cleared valleys and fields to plant and farm.   They survived horrible winters, loss at childbirth, death from diseases they did not have cures for…it made me wonder what they would have said or done.  Brought tractors, saws, food, water and just comfort I guess.  I miss them; I miss that world, a world that didn't need Television to turn them out.

I found myself singing an old tune… I guess going back in time to when families lived close, neighbors were part of the family… and no one was afraid to work.  I remember the phrase “many hands make work light”.

The song was written by Sammy Fein and Irving Kahal and came out in 1938…just before the war.  I think it was sung by every Big Band Singer and continues to be recorded up to this date with renditions by Anne Murray, Brenda Lee, and even Queen Latifah…but the rendition I remember best is by old Jimmy Durante…

So I have put it up with this blog…. To all those who are gone -  my friends, family and to the neighbors in Smithfield…

”I’ll Be Seeing You…in all the old familiar places…”

Remembering the good times in Old Eaton!

Well I have been under the weather this week...really.  Thanks to some good people I have warm wood and have decided to rest.... So thought I would post this as my blog for the week. It was on another blog spot that I started and stopped and so a few of you have seen it..but still if you need a smile perhaps this will give it to you...its about my good friend Bernie. (A Remembrance)

Bernie was born and raised in Eaton and moved back to Eaton after his mother’s death.  Bernie became an experience and a friend and a person you could tell a hundred stories about.  As a matter of fact there are so many stories about Bernie and when he grew up in Eaton that they could fill a book on their own.  Bernie had a metal plate in his head and had an arm that had been deformed because of an injury. These injuries were caused by one of Bernie’s wild escapades as a boy. But his disabilities never held him down...in his day he soldered intricate silver scrolling on Oneida Silversmith pieces.

In the days of Bernie’s youth, Walt, his father, and many of the men in town worked for the Milk Plant up on one of the hills overlooking the village.  The hill, even to this day, is one of the steepest hills, with an unbelievably steep drop into town.  The Eaton Train Station was located on it, and when the first trains came to Eaton Village, it was said that they had made the longest steepest sustained grade ever built east of the Rocky Mountains.  The town’s parents forbade the children to ride their bikes down the hill, but, of course, that would not stop Bernie.

On this particular morning the boys set out with the lunch pails for the milk station as usual, but after delivering their cargo Bernie decided to take the breath-taking daredevil ride to town.  The boys gasped as they watch Bernie go swooshing down the hill.  Just then a car crossed the intersection at the foot of the hill, and Bernie slammed into it.  The terror that gripped the boys made them slip off and watch the goings on from the safety of some bushes.  The tears flowed and their little bodies shook as after a while, Bernie’s motionless body was put into a hearse that sped away.

I met one of the boys, now an elderly man, one day when I was working in town, and he said he had run home and hid in his bedroom.  He was terrified that his mother would find out he was with Bernie, and he knew for sure it would get him into trouble. He thought that the overwhelming sadness and shock of losing his good friend was too much for his young heart to take.

The story behind the story was that the town’s undertaker was playing cards in the gas station, once a pleasant pastime in that era.  The gas station was at the foot of the hill where the accident took place, and the men, seeing the horrible accident, removed a body from the hearse which the undertaker had parked to play cards, locked the body in the gas station bay, put Bernie into the hearse and beat a fast track to the Utica Hospital, a ride that saved Bernie’s life.

Another time Bernie and one of his friends crawled through the window of the old furniture shop on River Road that made coffins for the Madison County Poor House, which was located a short distance away.  They stole one of the coffin bottoms and took it for a ride on the old pond out behind the buildings, enjoying a sail and playing pirates! 

The stories go on forever, and one I can contribute myself.  When Bernie became ill and couldn’t drive, I would volunteer to take him to the doctor in Oneida. Nick-named “Back Roads Bernie” for a reason, he would make me take this road or that so he could show me this person’s farm, or where he did this or that, basically filling me in with history tidbits, I guess.  On the way back, he would ask me to stop at the Munnsville Legion.  Since his  appointments were early in the morning, our stop at the Legion would be at about 9:30 am.  This tradition of course was not unusual for a farm area, but was for most people like myself.  He would say, “This is Back Street Mary, the writer”, everyone would nod and tell me some history tidbit, I would have a beer on Bernie, and then everyone would buy me a beer, which I didn’t drink, so I was given wooden beer chips to use in the future.

One time I could not take Bernie to Oneida and asked my housemate Chris to do it.   She agreed to do it and asked Bernie what time she should pick him up.   Chris didn’t know better and so took him straight to Oneida.  He looked at her and said, “how come we’re so early; my appointment isn’t for another 45 minutes?” 

Later that night I saw Chris.  She told me what happened and asked if he had ever asked me to stop for a beer at 9 in the morning.  I replied “yes”.  I opened the drawer under the kitchen counter revealing a large number of wooden beer chips and said, “Where do you think all of these came from?”

Bernie was loved by all and regardless of what was wrong...he made me laugh!

A Christmas past..and Bailys Irish Cream!

Sitting here tonight trying to get my woodstove going with wet wood… while looking out the window and seeing the snow falling with the temperature dropping…. I was reminded of a Christmas Eve a number of years ago.  My parents were alive and I was expected to be in Syracuse for Christmas Eve and then to dinner on Christmas Day.

All of my wood had gotten wet because the week before there was a rainy period, just like this week. A snowstorm hit so I called a friend Jim that I bought wood from when I ran out and asked if he could spare some dry wood. I also asked if he could slide in the 1/4 mile to town and throw some wood into the stove once… while I was gone.

Pauline, my neighbor came over. She was worried about my traveling all those miles since the storm had started to brew in the early afternoon and warnings were on TV, which, of course, I did not have. She brought me a bottle of Baileys Irish Cream that her son Wayne had sent her, she thought I could use for the holidays. I told her not to worry about it I’d make it!

So I tried to get the fire going as best I could and then set out, decked out in my coveralls and boots with my good clothes underneath. The story unfolds that my friend came down with dry wood… because of the wind he had worked and worked to get the fire going as the wind whistled about town and the temperature continued dropping.

I fought my way to Syracuse with my next-door neighbor’s four-wheel drive “bumpmobile”, as he called it, because he didn’t think I would make it back and forth without it.

The snow was so bad by the time I got to Syracuse that my mother had fed everyone, was mad at me for being late, and fed me a baloney sandwich. My brother and his wife spent the night in Syracuse so it was no great problem for them, but I had to go home to get the house warm again and keep the pipes from freezing.

I left Syracuse at about 11:30 p.m. and started back to Eaton. I made it to Cazenovia and had to wait for a plow to pass so I could follow it, for I knew that otherwise I would never make it home.

About 1:15 I made the turn down Morrisville-Eaton Road, a dangerous road at best. Luckily there were two tire tracks ahead of me, so I followed them on the winding way to town. I could not believe it when the car turned onto Brooklyn Street and then went into my driveway! Sure enough, inside my house was Jim’s wife, trying to get the fire going again. It seems Jim ordered her to stop in after midnight mass and do it because it had taken him so long to get it going in the first place.

I laughed; we could see our breath in the house. As I tended the fire, she talked about what she had bought the kids, and I said, “Robin, have you ever had Baileys Irish Cream?” She said no and so I said, “Do you want to try it for a Christmas toast?” She did, and so we stood in the kitchen right up next to the woodstove and drank Baileys until 3 in the morning.

I assure you that the house never got warm, but we did!

Original Bailys commercial!

Memories, elderberry time...friends in the country and Elderberry PIE!

A favorite haunt.. hunting for berries on Jack Ass Hill

Sometimes memories can make you laugh until you cry….and this week I had such a memory. I thought about the end of summer and all the good times we had in the past including the yearly hut for “Elderberries”!

The first time I came in contact with elderberries was the second summer I lived in Eaton. I heard a knock on my back door, and there stood my neighbor Brownie. In her hand were two huge bags of elderberries. She had come over to inquire if I knew how to make elderberry wine.

Seems it was a banner year for elderberries, and she and my neighbor Nellie could remember their mothers making the wine for special occasions. I guess I looked like the guru of this type of knowledge.

Actually I did have winemaking supplies, and we did make Elderberry Wine! It was a banner year for elderberries, and I remember thinking it was a banner year for new friends too!

One time after Nellie’s death when Betty, Nellie’s daughter-in-law, lived in Nellie’s old house, Pauline came over to the house and said that Deb, a friend, had told her she could go elderberrying on her property.  She claimed  that there were loads of elderberry bushes up there and she didn’t pick them.

Brownie and Betty wanted to know if I knew where her house and the patch of bushes were. Well I did, and I also knew why the woman didn’t pick them, but we will get to that.

That morning I picked the ladies up, and off to the road the woman lived on. I took them down the slope to where the berry bushes were, and sure enough there was a mess of berries. We picked and picked and picked. Finally we had filled all our bags full..... My eyes of course were full of elderberry pies to come.

As were leaving Brownie said, “Why, that woman leaving all these berries here like this—it’s a crying shame.” Betty said, "It's a SIN.... why doesn’t she pick them!”

I paused for effect and casually replied, “Because of all the snakes that live in this patch of bushes.”

With that, old Betty kicked up her heals and beat a path for the car at double speed.

Betty later claimed that if she had seen one of those wiggly creatures she would have made a path out of the patch the size of a two-lane highway!

P S.... I didn’t tell them that the kids told the woman that there were snakes there just to scare her! 

The video.....last fall one of Brownie's granddaughters came to visit me and we went to old Jack Ass hill to relive those great days of summer...good friends..neighbors...laughter and " Elderberry Time."   

Enjoy a trip back!