New Year's Traditions

     New Year's Eve was always a fun holiday growing up.  As a child it was a treat to stay up until midnight.  It felt like it took forever for the midnight hour arrive to watch Dick Clark count down the seconds and ring in the new year.  There was something dazzling about ringing in the new year.  It was a new start on the way I wanted my life to go.  What would happen?  What news events would grace our TV?  What changes would come our way?  It was a mystery waiting to be discovered.

     My mom would fix up snacks for the night.  Mostly it would contain a cheese roll, crackers, popcorn, Kool-Aid, and for the brand new year a glass of wine.  Just a glass.  We would sit around watching movies or playing board games such as RISK or Monopoly.  The TV would be on in the background and my mom would soon let us know the new year was upon us as she would give a 15 minute warning.  Our eyes would be glued to Dick Clark and the hullaballoo going on in New York City.  My brother, sister and I would talk about how much fun it would be to go there in person, being part of that crowd and watching the ball fall.  I still hope.

     There was one time when we missed watching Dick Clark growing up.  My mom was dating someone and we traveled to Holland, Michigan to celebrate the holiday with him and his family.  In their family New Year's was an adult event.  Children were supposed to go to bed, with the TV off, by 9.  The adults stayed upstairs to ring in the new year.  We were crushed.  To miss Dick Clark was like missing Santa Claus.  I remember crying myself to sleep that year.  Even as I entered adulthood I had to watch Dick Clark.  One other time I missed Dick Clark was when I went to celebrate New Year's with my sister and her family.  It was around 11pm and I asked her to turn on Dick Clark.  She then informs me that her TV wasn't working.  I must of seemed like a deer in headlights.  NO DICK CLARK!  I was not going to settle for that.  I grabbed my IPhone to watch it from there.  My phone battery was completely dead.  I was not going to settle for not watching the ball to fall.  I found a ball and raised it up over my head.  Someone called the phone "time" number which gave the time every 10 seconds.  When the midnight hour came I dropped the ball and yelled out, "HAPPY NEW YEAR!"  It wasn't the same and I hated to miss Dick Clark but I do remember that year. My children began to look forward to seeing him count down the ball falling.  We were saddened by his death.  It was like a part of my childhood has died.  I am thankful that my older children would remember him and share in a part of my childhood tradition.  My younger children will never know.

     We would write out our New Year's resolutions.  We would lay out and compare each other's resolutions.  Mostly mine would contain better grades, to behave better (as I was a real rascal at times), lose a few pounds, and to write a story.  We would seal them up in our envelopes to be opened the next year to see if we fulfilled our resolutions.  Most of the time we would forget about them in two weeks.   It was more than just wishes on our life.  It was a plan for our life; a direction in which we wanted to go.  It was a path to take into the new year.  It was a chance to take a breath in our chaotic lives and to begin fresh again.

     After the ball would fall we would tap our wine glasses together and sip our wine.  It always made a funny butterfly feeling in my belly.  We were only allowed one glass.  The phone would ring and it would be Nonnie and Grandpa (my mom's parents) wishing us a happy New Year.  We ran into the hall way where our phone was located attached on the wall.  We would happily share with them the fun activities we did and tell them about what we watched on TV.  We would try to stretch the phone cord into the living room so we can continue to see the commotion going on in New York City. 

     We would finally pass the phone to mom and us siblings would watch the TV together.  Then as if a switch was flipped on inside of us we all started running around trying to see who can do what first in the new year. 

     "I was the first to pet the cat!"  Marc would shout.
     "I was the first to open the front door!"  Yelled Lisa.
     "I was the first to turn the light on and off!"  I would bellow.

     We ran all over the house being the first.  We were even proud of being the first to use the toilet.  We would run to mom, who was still on the phone, as if it were a race to be the first to give her a hug and a kiss.  Everything was new again.  It was, after all, a whole new year.

     And then it was over.  The new year was beginning.  There was no going back.  It is what it is.  The year was young and unfamiliar.  It was guaranteed that changes will take place but we didn't know what they would be or when.  It was an exciting time.  It still is.  The memories that grow in my heart and stay with me in my mind are held dear to me.  Each new year is a new journey.  It's a new chapter in my life.  The page continues to turn....
    

Ghosts of Christmas Past

     The other day my children were asking me how I celebrated Christmas when I was a child.  It was fun sharing those memories with my children and I wanted to record those precious memories that I hold dear to my heart. 

This pic was taken about 1979.  I am I the middle.
My sister is to the left of me and my brother
is to the right of me.

     We always had to dress up on Christmas Eve.  I remember having my hair up in curlers, putting
on a dress and trying to stretch up tights over my legs.  I was no a girly girl so I loathed getting all dolled up.  But once everyone was dressed up it did seem nice.  My father was no longer in the picture and my mother was an only child so we didn't have the pleasure of having aunts, uncles, or cousins coming over joining in on the holiday fun.  However, my grandparents, Nonnie and Grandpa, would come over bringing in gifts that would break Santa's back.  They would enter our door, stomping the snow off their feet, also dressed up, with beautiful packages of bows and ribbons stuffed in bags that hung off their arms.  My sister, brother and I would happily relieve them from the packages and run to the tree to place them under it.  We would look to see whose gift is whose and try to guess what is in each box.  Soon the tree would be overfilling with presents.  The dreaded part would be waiting for the adults to finish talking and visiting so us children could open the presents. 

This was taken about 1983.  I am in the middle. 
My brother is to the left of me.  My sister is to the right of me.
A friend of my mom dressed up as Santa to surprise us.

     Soon the time was upon us for gifts to be opened.  We gathered in a circle around the living room, my mom and Nonnie would sit on the couch, my Grandpa would sit in a rocking recliner chair, and two of us children would sit in these green swivel rocking chairs.  The other child was granted the position of Santa and got the privilege of passing out the presents one at time.  Usually my grandpa would choose which child got to be Santa.  The adults would try to pick and choose which present the "Santa" should hand out first.  Us, kids, were eager to give out our school made decorations as gifts to other family members as we were to receive gifts from them. 

     One by one the gifts would be passed out.  We had to stop and sing Jingle Bells as each person opened their gift.  It made the night last longer.  The custom would be if the person didn't open the gift after the song was sang (the shorter version of the song) then the gift was given back to the giver.  Of course no one returned the gift as it was just in jest.  But it did make the opening of the present seem frantic and quick.  Slowly the pile of presents under the tree began to shrink down in size until there were none left.  Over the years my sister and I got into this competition of who would open the last gift.  She would even hide some gifts under the couch and then afterwards pull them out to be the last person to open a gift.  I caught on and I would start hiding them too.  One year we both had 3 to 4 gifts hidden and we both would think we had the last one until she would pull out a gift and then I would pull out a gift from hiding.  We laughed so hard thinking how clever we both were yet being outsmarted by each other.  I don't remember who opened the last gift but I remember the fun of it.

     We were then shuffled off to bed donning our new pajamas that we just received.  One year we each had matching Star War Pajamas.  Another  year I remember having the Dukes of Hazzard pajamas.  It was red with Daisy Duke in the middle with a horse.  My sister and I would go to our bedroom and my brother off to his room while the adults would stay up talking.  It always seemed hard to fall asleep but eventually sleep found us and the night drifted away. 

     The morning was always a magical moment.  One of us would wake up remembering that it was Christmas morning.  We would tip toe out to the living room to see if we were good children  by the gifts that are laid under the tree.  Smiles would come across our face as we see our artificial tree all light up with presents laid out all underneath it.  We would wake up the other siblings still trying to be quiet and sharing in the magical moment with just us siblings.  We knew we couldn't open up the presents without mom awake so we just examined the presents and took a peek in our stockings that were propped up on the couch.  Plastic candy canes filled with candy and smaller wrapped gifts spill out from the top of the stockings.  We would feel the toe of the red stocking with our names glittered on the top and feel a round object.  It was an orange.  We always knew there was an orange in the stockings.  Some of our gifts were left unwrapped and put out for show.  Sometimes it was a stuffed animal or a large toy.  We still waiting to play with it until mom woke up.  It was like some unspoken rule. 

     When we couldn't take the suspense anymore we would invade mom's room and all jump around on her bed trying to wake her up.  Her blood shot eyes from lack of sleep would try to open.  She would try to plead for a few more hours of sleep but to no avail.  We were persistent.  We managed to negotiate by letting her have a cup of coffee before we opened our gifts.  She would slip on her floor length robe and make her way to the kitchen for a bit of caffeine encouragement to start the day. 

     The time arrived for us to open our presents.  Our gifts are always placed in a certain area around the tree.  My spot was in front of the tree.  My sister Lisa's presents were located to the left of the tree and my brother Marc's gifts were to the right of the tree.  We all took our places in front of our sections ready to attack and rip up the wrappings.  Mom would listen to our ooh's and aaah's as each gift is opened.  Every gift is well loved.  We would pick up the remainders of the wrappings and throw away the boxes.  Our gifts were placed back under the tree in our same sections.  Then we went to dig through our stockings.  We would share what we each had and start sampling some of the tasty goodies we find. 

     Later on that day Nonnie and Grandpa would come over to see what Santa has given to us.  We would show off all our surprises to them.  Our gifts would stay out under the tree for the remainder of the week as we would play with them on and off.  It was fun to keep seeing them under the tree during winter break from school. 

Early 80's.  I was to the right and my sister is to the left.

Probably 1980.  My brother shows off his new Muppet drum set.

Probably 1984.  My brother shows off a toy tool kit he received. 
The metal yellow stove and microwave in the background was one of
my gifts that year.  I can still feel the creek of the metal hinges and the
grind of it as I would open and close the oven door. 

     I am very blessed to have wonderful memories of Christmas past.  Few gifts stand out in my memory of what I received, many I have forgot about.  But the important ones, the ones of having family close by and the Christmas magic will stay in my heart forever.       

The Stanley Family ~ The "Gump" Family Line.

 

 

     Working on my genealogy I have learned to study what is going on in the world to help piece together unread information about my family.  As an example that doesn't relate to my family a person can look and see that their ancestors came from Europe to America in the late 1930's.  If a person doesn't dig deeper than that date only stays a date without an explanation.  But as a person digs deeper in learning about history during that time they will discover that Europe is on the brink of WWII and tension was in the air.  People over in Europe, who were able to, started to leave and come to America.  So a person can then say that WWII caused their family to immigrate from Europe to America.  It puts more feeling into it that simply saying "my family came to America in 1939."

     For those who have not had the privilege of watching the movie Forrest Gump a brief summery is about a man named Forest Gump growing up and interacting with different points of American history such as getting his name from a KKK leader, meeting Elvis, going to school while blacks tried to attend an all white school, going off to serve in Vietnam, meeting a few presidents, and buying stocks in Apple corporation without realizing what it is.  Recently I discovered one branch in my family tree that was around during some interesting times in America.  I jokingly call it the "Gump" line because this line has pretty much seen it all in America just like Forest Gump's character in the movie.  The correct name of the particular branch in my family tree is the Stanley (Standley originally but they dropped the D in the early 1800's) line.  It is from my mother's father's mother's line of the family and goes back 11 generations.  I wanted to highlight some of the important parts of history that my ancestor's were around to see and their connection to it.

Standley family was known to be in Massachusetts in1635.
Pictured above is NOT family but used to represent family in
that time era.



Map of New England in 1640

     It all starts with the pilgrims.  Okay, not exactly THE pilgrims but that is around the time frame I traced my roots back to.  George Standley was born about 1635 and lived in Massachusetts and married and died in Salem, MA..  The Mayflower came to America (Plymouth, Massachusetts) in 1620 - only 15 years BEFORE George Standley was born.  I haven't reached on who is parents were or where they were from.  That is another brick wall for another day.  On the map you can see Plymouth near the Cape Cod area (the hook part on Massachusetts).  Boston is further up north and Salem is just north of Boston still along the coast.  They could have taken a boat a few years after the pilgrims and entered through Boston and traveled north.  Perhaps this line came down from Canada.  I still haven't discovered that part of WHEN that line came to America.  I just know it is documented that he lived in Massachusetts from about 1635 to 1698.  I guess I will add that bit of thanks to my ancestor next Thanksgiving.

Salem WitchTrials in Salem Massachusetts.





    
     Salem.  Yes, that is right.  George Standley was living in Salem during the famous Salem Witch trials.  No, he or his family are not listed among the 200 that were accused of doing the Devil's work but that doesn't mean he didn't know of someone.  These people lived in the same town.  He had to of had commerce with them and trade.  This was a huge deal in this town.  I can bet he was reading up in the newspaper of what was going on and he and his wife, Bethiah, could of been there at the hangings.  The Salem Witch Trials happened during 1692 and 1693.  George didn't die until 1698, 5 years after the Salem Witch Trials.  Some of his adult children where there witnessing this event unfold too.  When George died in Beverly, MA., Salem annexed out a part of their town to create Beverly.  There were about 4 people right from his area!  George's son, Johnathan (still part of my line) married an Elizabeth Foster.  There is an Ann Foster listed as an accused.  Could Ann and Elizabeth be related?  Mother? Sisters? Cousins?  I don't know.  They were in the area and had one son in Beverly, MA..    http://www.salemwitchtrials.com/accused.html  http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Salem_witch_trials 

     George Standley wasn't without sin either.  In the Salem Quarterly Court Records and files on January 26, 1668 he was fined for fornication before marriage with his future wife, Bethiah (Lovett).  They did end up marrying in 1670 and had a child soon afterwards.  November 13, 1672 for breach of the peace. On June 24, 1673, George was fined again, but this time it was for being a cheat and extortion when it came to selling cloth.  December 3, 1677 he had taken an oath of fidelity (swearing allegiance to the lords or state).  September 25, 1679 when he was around 44 years old he testified about the time Salem new meeting house was built.  There was an argument over who had the bell and he claimed he never received the bill of lading nor did he pay for the freight of it but claimed that he brought the bell to his home.  (I need to dig deeper into that one to fuller understand it) and he was summoned the 29th of April in 1681 for Ephraim Herick in telling a pernicious lie. 

     Overall, George Standley had 11 children between 1670 to 1693 all in Beverly, Massachusetts before he died in 1698.  I am a descendant from his 5th child, Jonathan Standley born January 18, 1679 and died unknown in North Carolina.  It was through Jonathan that my family traveled down the coast to stay in North Carolina for a few generations.  I don't know why he made the move south.  His wife, Elizabeth Foster (mentioned above) was from the area.  They married in 1704, had a son in 1706 in Beverly but the following year in 1707 there is a land deed registered to Jonathan Standley in North Carolina.  Something happened during that time that caused them to move.  Better job opportunity?  Maybe Elizabeth's sister was accused and now the pressure was starting to focus on Elizabeth and her son.  This move could be means to escape.  Those questions have yet to be answered. 

Greene County, NC.  My ancestor lived
somewhat in that area.

     Jonathan Standley was a Mariner and had 3 children.  One son with Elizabeth and two sons with another wife.  The lived in Dobbs County, NC.  Dobbs County no longer exists but became part of Wayne County, Greene County and Lenoir County.  Registered in April 15, 1707 for 28 pounds he bought 316 acres.  On April 1, 1713 Jonathan purchased 313 acres for 35 pounds.  He started buying up a lot of land throughout his life.  Mariner life and the land was good to him and it all was starting to pay off.  The Standley's became a prominent family in North Carolina. 



An image of what a slave auction would look like.

 

      With owning much land in North Carolina during the 1700's usually comes with a sad price to operate it.  Slavery.  International Slave Trade didn't happen until 1808 so slavery was in full swing at this time.  Between 1701 and 1760, 189,00 slaves were brought to America.  Majority of slaves captured at that time.  Overall, 12 million slaves were taken from Africa but the colonies only got 5% of that.  Most were used in the Caribbean and Brazil.  Jonathan's oldest son, Jonathan Jr. (brother of my direct ancestor) in his will to his children willed some of his slaves to his children. 

Son David Sandley ~ Land I bought of Moses Hare on Roquis, Negro Sue, bed cows, calves which he has already received.

Son Edmond Standley ~ Land I bought of Dillard Harris and my land in Piney Woods that I had of John Barnes Jr also cows, calves and Negro Sam.

Daughter Elizabeth Roades ~ mulatto Cate, bed, cows, and calves.  

Daughter Jemima Kittrell ~ Negro Nance and an equal part of my estate for her lifetime and at her death the said Negro will go to her son Joshua Spivey.

Daughter Esther Spivey ~ Negro Dina and her three children which she now has.

Daughter Susanna Baker ~ Negro Jenney, bed, etc.

Daughter Mary Stallings ~ Negro Jada, bed, etc. which she has already received.

Daughter Martha Standley ~ My manner plantation where I now live and 50 acres of land that I bought of John Crickett, also Negro Sarah, bed, etc.

Goddaughter Sarah Thomas, junr, ~ The child my Negro Rose now goes with, but if Sarah should die without issue the Negro will go to my children. 

Wife Ann Standley ~ Lend 200 acres at Lumber Bridge, Negroes Mingo, Peg, and Nance, Cows, Walnut Chairs, Smoking Chair, ect.  Profits of the orchard are to be divided between my daughter Martha and my wife.

His wife Ann's dad Martin Gardner also left a will on October 6, 1755. 

Wife Annah ~ Negro Jim , bed

Son Jame Gardner ~ Negro Pompe, Ben, Bed and plantation, and land where I now live.

Son John Gardner ~ 440 acres adj my land on Deep Run and Cashy.

Daughters Ann, Annah, and Jane ~ cows and calves.

Daughter Ann ~ Negro Peg

Daughter Annah ~ Negro Ward

Daughter Jane ~ Negro Beck

Son William Gardner ~ Heifer

Daughter Catron ~ Mare

 Daughter Elisebeth ~ cow and calf and that is to be their shares.  

     Notice in the first group there was a mulatto slave that was willed to Jonathan's daughter.  Could this girl, Cate, be the daughter of Jonathan and another slave or could they have purchased her from an auction?  I am interested in the fact that Ann's dad didn't leave his younger 3 children a slave but instead farm animals.  I wonder if they were too young to receive slaves where the other children could have been married and out of the home.  Slave ownership is a black eye in the American culture.  Many look down about that era.  However, it was the culture back then whether we agree with it or not.  I was very surprised to learn about slavery being a part of my heritage.  I am not overly proud of it but I cannot pretend that it wasn't there. 

     My line, however, carries on from Jonathan Jr.'s younger half brother, Sands Standley.  Not much is known about him except he had two sons. Sands jr. and Shadrack.  There is a book titled "Sands Stanley of the Pee Dee Valley" written by Haywood Stanley in 1978.

     His son Sands jr. married a lady by the name of Zilpha Edwards around 1759.  Her name is also spelled Zilphah in the DAR (Daughters of the American Revolution) application National #486112.




Sands Stanley fought in the Battle of Moores Creek Bridge in 1776 near Wilmington, North Carolina.  It was the first battle of the American Revolutionary War that was fought in North Carolina.  He served in the Dobb's Militia. 
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Battle_of_Moore%27s_Creek_Bridge_NC

A: Moore moves from Wilmington to Rockfish Creek
B:  MacDonald moves to Corbett's Ferry
C:  Caswell moves from New Bern to Corbett's Ferry.
Sands was in the "C" movement.

Moore's Creek Bridge where the battle took place.

Zilpha's father, Colonel Thomas Edwards was shot and killed by a slave. This generation slowly started to wean the "D" letter from Standley to Stanley.  In 1733 Sands served as a member of the Committee on Claims of the North Carolina Assembly at New Bern.  It was documented that in 1792 and in 1793 there was a bill of sale for purchase of a slave.  Between 1760 and 1778 they had 13 children.  Again, our line continues from the 5th child, William Stanley. 

Shadrack Stanley served under
"Swamp Fox" Francis Marion.

     Before I go down my 5th great grandfather's line I want to take a moment and mention William's brother, (Sands jr. second child) Shadrack Stanley who was born 1761.  He served under General Francis Marion (aka The Swamp Fox) in 1782 as a private for 30 days.  He was around 21 years of age.  But his tale doesn't end there.  Soon after the Revolutionary War in 1803, the United States made a huge land purchase commonly known as the Louisiana Purchase.  At the time the boundaries of Louisiana and Florida were not clear.  Squabbles and feuding started to take place.  Finally in 1821 and with negotiations from Spain Florida became a U.S. Territory.  Shadrack owned land along the St. Mary's River where a lot of the squabbling took place.  Shadrack's son Shadrack was a surveyer and was told to go to Florida with 101 men near Gainesville, Fl.  They were supposed to be given 500 acres of land and supplies for one year.  Indian's attacked after a few months and they were told to get off their land.  Spain told them to forget the land and head back.  To make a longer story short by 1815 the King of Spain had given Shadrack 300 acres of land He also claimed an additional 640 acres which he improved.  He signed petitions for against Indians to roam around Florida in 1825.  In tax records lists Sands with 1120 acres of pine land, 150 acres of oak and hickory land, and 18 negroes.

     Back to William Stanley.  He ended up moving from North Carolina to Kentucky with the Transylvania Company.  Just before the Revolutionary War occurred there was another war called Lord Dunmore's War.  In a nut shell it is about the governor of Virginia, Lord Dunmore, wanting to acquire more land that is now present day West Virginia and Kentucky.  This was the Indian's hunting ground.  Daniel Boone, trying to set up this area for settlers also came under attack.  Boone's oldest son James and another boy were captured and tortured to death in 1773.  In 1774 the Treaty of Camp Charlotte the Shawnee Indian's agreed to stop hunting south of the Ohio River and to stop harassment of the settlers coming into the land.  In 1775 the Cherokee Indians sold Kentucky to the Transylvania Company. 

Wilderness Road in 1785
Daniel Boone led settlers through this path to settle in Kentucky.

     The Transylvania Company was started in 1774 by a judge out of North Carolina by the name of Richard Henderson.  He was able to get wealthy North Carolinians to help support him by joining up and moving out to Kentucky. 

Daniel Boone and a few settlers overlooking a ridge
over by the Wilderness Road.

     William Stanley, being a planter in North Carolina became involved with the Transylvania Company that moved into Kentucky.  He wasn't one of the first families from North Carolina to go as he had a son, Mark Stanley, that was born in 1791 in North Carolina.  The next documents I can find
William Stanley is death in 1823 in Hopkins, Kentucky.  Somewhere between 1791 and 1823 made a journey with the Transylvania Company to take an adventure over through the Cumberland Gap on the Wilderness Road and made his way to Kentucky. 

     Mark Stanley, born in North Carolina, made the journey across the country, stopped in Tennessee and ended up in Williamson County, Marion, Illinois.  He was a farmer, had 11 children and his youngest two sons served in the Civil War.  My line continues on through one of his daughters, Mary Jane, his 6th child.  I wanted to focus on her younger brothers who fought and gave their lives in the Civil War, Charles Stanley and Elias Stanley.



     The brothers were born a year apart.   Charles was born 1837 and his brother Elias in 1838 both in  Tennessee.  The war between the states was going on.  Elias signed on with the Union Infantry 31st

Regiment Illinois, Company C at the age of 23.  He was married to Nancy Chitty at this time and had one child.  He was in the Battle of Vicksburg having served under U.S. Grant Union forces.  He was injured at a small battle at Hill's Plantation, near Bear Creek, on June 22, 1863 and died a few days later on June 25th.  Eight men were killed, 16 wounded and 23 went missing.  Out of all the Vicksburg's battles 10,142 Union soldier's perished including the two Stanley brothers.  I am not sure what happened to Charles Stanley.  I just know that he, too, died at the battle of Vicksburg. 

     It is bad enough for a mother to hear about the tragic news of losing her two youngest sons in a war battle.  But her sorrow's didn't end there.  Her husband, my 4th great grandfather died a month later on July 10, 1863 at the age of 72. 

I had family that fought on both sides of the Civil War.
More direct line fought for the Union.
Distant line fought for the Confederacy.



     Other distant cousins from the same family line also fought in the Civil War.  Hosea Stanley was in the 42nd Regiment under Major General E. Kirby Smith in March 1862 in Georgia.  So I had distant family also fighting for the Confederacy.  He ended up dying due to sickness in Gwinnett, GA., October 1862.  Another relative Henry S. Stanley was a private in Company of 16th Georgia Volunteers and took part in many battles in Virginia.  On June 1, 1864 he was captured by General Sheridan at Front Royal, Virginia.  He was exchanged on October 29, 1864 at Point Lookout, Maryland.  He was admitted in Wayside Hosptial in Richmond, VA. for being wounded.  He died at age 70. 

     Even though I have family on both sides of the Civil War I wonder if they knew of each other from letters from their parents send off to their siblings.  Did they even realize they were fighting against their distant cousins?  I may never know the answer to that but it is interesting to see how the family back in North Carolina forked by having some family go Northwest to Kentucky and some family went Southwest to Florida and Georgia. 

     A few more generations later from Mark Stanley and his daughter Mary Jane and we start getting closer to me.  The trials and historical events still surround my family from the Great Depression, to suffering and death of TB, and the rise of the auto industry in Michigan. 

     Like in the ending of Forrest Gump we are all feather's blowing in the wind of time.  Where will the wind of time take my siblings, take my nieces and nephew's, take my children, and take me?  We are just a speck in a moment of time.  It is what we do with that time that can make that moment memorable.

     

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 



      

The Sheltered Cove Part III The Conclusion

     A few months have now passed.  The spring has eventually turned into the hot days of summer.  Then the hot days of summer are starting to show off the glorious colors of autumn.  Emily looks forward to her weekends as she rows out to the cove in hopes of yet trying to discover who her suitor is.  The eloquent notes he would leave behind he signed with the name of Thomas.  Sometimes he would leave a gift such as gloves or a broach.  Sometimes he would leave a small token such as a flower or a piece of fruit.  She wasn't sure how to deal with the whole situation.  She loved receiving her trinkets but she desired more to meet the man who was stirring up feelings inside of her.  Emily tried to leave him notes only for them to be returned unopened with another note saying that he told her before not to try to contact him.  As strange as she thought it was she learned to accept it.  However at times when she would be relaxing out at the cove, laying in the sun's warm rays she would talk out loud as if he were right by her side.  She would share her dreams, her fears and her desires.  Then there would be times she would tell herself that she was crazy and living with unreal expectations and she would forbid herself from paddling out to the cove.  But the urge was always too strong not to go.  She found comfort there that she couldn't get anywhere else. 
    
     At the apparel shop her sister confronts her.  "I am worried about you, Emily."  Melissa said while separating the different fabrics and placing them in different compartments on the wall.  "You go out to that cove way too much."

     Emily give Melissa a strange look.  "You do not need to worry about me.  I am not doing anything wrong.  You need to worry about your own family and your little one that is about to be born next month."

     "Is he still giving you gifts?"

     "Yes." she quietly replied back.

     "EMILY!  You need to stop this!  It isn't fair to him or to you.  If he cares about you so much then why hasn't he met you?  If he cared for you that much he would come forward and declare his feelings for you publically and not hidden in some dumb old cove."  she snapped back.

     "You don't understand.  We feel something for each other.  I can't explain it.  It is like a magnetic force trying to pull us together."

     Melissa puts down the fabric and moves closer to Emily putting her hand on her shoulder.  "I don't understand why he won't let you communicate with him or why he has to remain anonymous.  You don't know that much about him.  He could be married or a serial killer.  I know you are getting older but I don't want you to settle for a fantasy of what may or may not be.  It is not how proper things are done."

     Emily takes a step back away from her sister.  "I do not know why he remains to be a secret.  I am sure he has his reasons.  You just never mind what is going on in my life.  It doesn't concern you!"  With that final word Emily heads off into the back of the apparel shop to start organizing the new shipment of dresses that came in from France.

     For the rest of the week Emily tried to avoid her sister as much as possible.  She didn't want to see the condescending look coming from Melissa's eyes on her decision to continue to go out to the cove.  The words that Melissa left for Emily still replayed in her head.  Why didn't he want to visually meet me?  If he cared and loved me so much why hasn't he stepped forward so we could be together?  Why won't he let me contact him?  These thoughts kept burning in her brain for the remainder of the week until she started to become angry with him. 

     Saturday finally arrived and Emily found herself pacing around her cabin trying not to head out to the cove.  Louder and louder her sister's words echoed in her head.  She finally had enough.  With her heart full of hurt and anger she boxed up everything he had given to her.  Emily had to move on with her life and find someone who will not be afraid to love her openly back.  She set sail for the cove rowing with determined strokes with the oars.  She arrived into the cove and tied up her boat.  She looked around.  Nothing.  It was just the sounds of nature and herself.  The same as always.  This time the birds sounded as if they were laughing as if to mock her.  The trees swayed in the wind like they were rocking back and forth like she was the punch line of some humorous joke.  The more she looked around the madder and madder she became. 

     She went to the boat and pulled out a few boxes of the things that Thomas had given her.  She rubbed her hands over the boxes remembering the wonderful feelings she got when she seen a package waiting for her along with a note that seemed like it was penned from his heart.  Lies!  She told herself.  This was all lies!  The anger started to erupt from her mouth.  "DO YOU HEAR ME, THOMAS!"  she screamed out to the wind. She opened up the box of items and called out,  "THESE ARE ALL EMPTY LIES THAT YOU TOLD TO ME!   LIES!"  Tears began to swell up in her eyes as her heart felt like it was being crumpled up.

     "SHOW ME YOU CARE BY COMING TO ME!  SHOW ME YOU LOVE ME BY REVEALING YOUR SELF TO ME!" she bellowed.  She looked around being very silent trying to hear him coming for her but all she didn't hear any sounds.  "I WOULD RATHER HAVE YOU THAN ALL THESE ITEMS!"  With that final word she started throwing everything in the box across the cove as hard as she could.  "I DON'T WANT ANY OF IT!" she would yell as she tossed her hardest with each item.  Finally Emily threw the empty box and she fell down to the sand and cried.  Thomas never came.  She was left there alone.

     A few days later back at the apparel shop Melissa could tell something was bothering her sister.  She knew it had to be Thomas but she didn't want to pry anymore into the situation.  She would watch her sister mope around the store, all happiness drained from her face.  She wished there was something she could do but there was nothing.  Melissa decided to keep her sister busy with work so Emily didn't have time to think about whatever it was that was bothering her. 

     That afternoon a delivery boy came into the apparel shop for telegram for Melissa and Emily.  It was from their mother back over in Ireland.  She writes often but telegrams were reserved for something special or urgent.  Since it wasn't around either birthday or a holiday they girls knew it had to be an urgent message.  They put their hardships aside and gathered in the backroom to read the telegram. 

My darling girls,  Your father has fallen off

the ladder while trying to work on the roof

of the barn.  He is seriously injured.  He may not

make it very long.  Melissa, I know you are with

child and close to being due so you probably

won't be able to make the trip.  Emily, I really need

you back at the farm and I pray you make it in time

before your father passes away.  Come as soon as you can.

Love and prayers,

Ma

     The girls sat and cried at the sad news they just received.  The Uncle understood the seriousness of the issue and closed up shop for the day.  He helped Emily pack her belongings and helped her find a ship to send her back to Ireland.  Melissa gave her some gifts to give to their mother.

     "If you are able to see pa before he goes tell him I love him."  Melissa said to Emily with tears in her eyes. 

     "I will, dear sister."  They engage in a tight hug.  "I am going to miss you." Emily broke up the embrace and headed to the plank that will take her aboard to the ship that will take her back to Ireland. 

      Emily had stayed in Ireland to help her mother run the farm.  She could not take her mind off of Thomas and the way she left the cove.  She knew it is impossible to ever see him again.  She eventually married and had children but she never let her heart be as free as it was when she was in the cove with thoughts of Thomas. 

     Many years had passed.  Her children are now grown and her husband had passed away.  Thoughts about Thomas kept entering her mind.  It was as if the cove was calling her back.  Against her children's wishes she set sail back across to America and found her way back to the cove.  It became developed real estate along the entrance to the cove.  Her beautiful weeping willows were now gone.  There was just a small wooded area that was left to remain in nature's grasp.  It was the area where she once used to go to pick the berries. 

     Her old feeble legs still carried her body towards the woods.  As she walked along the over grown path something caught her eyes.  It looked like a rock in an odd shape.  As she got closer she realized it was a headstone.  She looked down at the inscription on the stone.  Thomas McLaughin.  b. 1881 d. 1964  He was 84, she said to herself.  The stone was very plain and basic.  She noticed small lettering partially covered by tall grass.  She pulled the tall grass revealing the words, "Emily, The lady of the cove, I will always love thee." 

     She gasped for breath when she read that.  Even after all those years he still loved her.  She knelt down at his graveside and began to sob.  Now she will never be able to be with him.  Her hands ran over the grass that covered his body.  Through her tears and heartbreak frustration she clawed at part of the dirt upset that she didn't hold onto him longer when she was younger.  How different her life would have been.  Then her hand came across something hard.  Frightened a little bit she pulls her hand back and takes a look at the ground to see what her hand felt near the topsoil.  She was able to find enough nerve to reach out a hand and pull more of the ground back.  There was a metal square container buried just beneath the surface. 

     Emily looks around to see if anyone is watching her.  The tears stop flowing from her eyes and something new has her attention now.  She digs the container out from the ground and places it in her lap.  She opens it up and finds a stack of letters written to her from Thomas.  She looks at the date he wrote the letters and realize they were written after she left for Ireland.  She quickly picks up the top letter.  It says:

My sweet Emily of the cove,  I pray that you find my letters and allow me to explain my actions although they are probably too late.  I was young and shy and afraid that you would reject me.  I knew you loved me and that warmed my heart but I was afraid that if you had seen me you would push me away.  When I was a baby my home caught on fire.  My mother was out in the garden and I was napping.  My mother didn't realize the house was on fire until it was almost too late.  She was able to save me however serious damage had already been done to my skin.  Heavy scars still linger on my face and body.  I didn't want you to have to carry my burden of me being disfigured.  I love you too much to do that to you.  I heard you screaming that Saturday afternoon for me to come forward but I couldn't.  My heart was breaking along side your heart.  I wanted you to go and find a handsome man to marry and to have children with.  I didn't want you to hang your head down in shame of being with me or for our children to be scared of my appearance.  That is not how I wanted you to live.  I wanted you to enjoy life and be apart of its beauty.  I love you too much to suffer along side with me. After you left I came out and collected all those gifts I had given to you.  I gave you those so you can have a piece of me with you since physically I could not.  I saved those items and they are placed in a hole in the tree where I carved our name into years ago.  My lawyer helped me finish off my dying wish of putting these papers in a box to be buried near the top of my grave.  I wanted you to find me again even after I was gone.  My sweet Emily.  You have always been in my heart and I never forgot you.  With my last dying breath I want to speak your name and pray that you come to me.  You are forever my love,  Your darling, Thomas.

    Tears trickled down her face onto the paper she was holding.  She had to read the words over and over.  "I would have loved you regardless." she whispered through her tears.  She slowly stood up and looked around.  A few trees over she seen their names surrounded by a heart being stretched out by the tree's growth.  Near the base of the trunk the tree made an odd formation that created a rather large opening.  She reaches in and feels another metal container.  She pulls it out and unlocks the latches.  Inside she discovered jewelry he had given to her, her bonnet, gloves, figurines and other trinkets.  She unravels the cloak and wraps it around her shoulders.  She smelled the cloak upon her shoulders.  It still had a light aroma of his scent.  She put on her jewelry and donned on her bonnet.  She walks back over to his graveside and lays down on his grassy spot.  She places her head over to where Thomas' heart would be located and closes her eyes for the last time. 



The Sheltered Cove Part II

     The next morning Emily decided to wear her new bonnet to work.  She tied up her horse and buggy behind her uncle's apparel shop and entered through the back door.  Her older sister was already there working the early morning shift.  The squeak and slam of the old screen door gave notice to her arrival.  Her sister, Melissa, looks over in Emily's direction.  "Wow!  Look at that new bonnet!  Where did you get that at?"
     "It was a gift that someone left for me down in the cove that I go to."  she said while modeling her bonnet for her sister.
     "The cove?  Isn't that the place where you row your boat out to?"
     "That's the one."  Emily responded back.  "I went to unhook the boat and there was a package wrapped up and it said 'To the Lady of the Cove' on it.  I am the only one who has been going to that spot for a few years now.  It had to be for me."
     "So someone else was there and you didn't see them?" asked Melissa.
     "I guess so.  I didn't seen anyone around."  replied Emily.
     "Ohhhh, that just gives me the creeps.  I don't want you heading back there again." she demanded.
     "Melissa, I am 23 years old.  I am quite capable of handling myself.  If someone was going to harm me don't you think they would of done it while I was there...alone?  And they certainly wouldn't be leaving me such a lovely gift either."  Emily reaches up and removes the hat pins from her bonnet and places her bonnet on the counter.  She looks over at her sister who was giving her a concerned look.  "I'll be fine.  Don't worry."
     All week long Emily would watch customer's very carefully to see if they took a notice in her as she tried to figure out who would give her such a nice bonnet and most importantly who knew she liked to escape out to the cove from time to time.  She was disappointed to find that no one took extra notice of her out of the ordinary.  She was anxious for the week to be over with so she can return to the cove. 
     Saturday finally arrived.  A random late spring storm was sweeping across the land.  The rain cascaded down over the porch creating huge puddles on the ground.  Lightning sparkled out across the sky.  Emily gave out a loud sigh.  I guess I am going to have to wait until tomorrow to go to the cove.  She thought to herself.  She went over to start a small fire in the fireplace to take the chill out of the cabin her uncle is letting her stay in.  She sat down in her chair and tried to occupy her time with a blanket she was knitting for her sister's baby that was due in a few months.  Melissa has been married for nearly 4 years now and they are expecting their first baby.  Emily's thoughts kept going back to the cove.  It was as if the cove was calling out for her to come. 
     A few hours later the lightning had stopped but the rain continued to fall.  Emily put down her knitting and started to pace around the small cabin.  It was silly of her to entertain the thought of heading out to the cove in a rainstorm yet the urgency to head out there was so strong.  She decided to put all logical thought aside as she donned on her rain cloak and headed out to the dock to untie the boat.  The water was rather calm despite the downpour.  Her wet hair would slap against her face with every row she took.  Her skirt and cloak became heavy with the rain making it harder to row.  She didn't mind it as she wanted to reach the cove as quickly as she could. 
     As she reached the cove she noticed another small rowboat tied up to where she normally ties her boat up at.  She tosses herself over the boats edge and pulls it closer towards shore so she can tie it up.  She was nervous and excited at the same time seeing the other boat.  She takes a peak inside the other boat hoping to see something.  There was nothing there except oars stretched out across the seats.  She looks around in hopes of seeing someone.  Nothing.  Emily walks around for a moment through the trees and doesn't find anyone.  This boat has to belong to someone she thought.  "HELLOOO!"  she hollers out.  The loud sound of the rain made it hard for her voice to carry out.  "HELLOOO!"  she bellows out again.  She paused in her steps for a moment trying to listen for a reply.  Still there was nothing. 
     She looks back at the other boat next to hers.  Where is the person who belongs to that boat?!  She bit her bottom lip in deep thought as she debated on what to do.  She looks over at the willow trees and decides to take some shelter of stepping out from the rain.  I am not leaving from this spot.  The person will have to come out eventually to get their boat and when they do I will be waiting for them.  Emily walks over to the willow's and leans up against the trunk of the tree.  Some of the larger branches up top kept some of the rain from falling down directly upon her.  She crossed her legs out in front of her and straightened out her skirt.  She sat watching the boats in the water.  The rhythm of the rain slowly made Emily drift off to sleep. 
     The sound of chirping birds filled the morning air.  Emily jolted up realizing she had fallen asleep.  She looked over at the boats and realized one was missing.  Words couldn't describe how she felt.  She glanced down and realized there was another cloak over her.  It was a man's cloak.  It was dark brown with a collar that had a strap that tied it off near the neck area.  She reached out her hand steadily and lightly touched it.  It was dry.  Gazing upon the cloak she ran her fingers over it as if she was really touching the owner of it.  Emily, closing her eyes, pulled it up to her nose to take in the scent of it.  The smell of musk over the cloak helped Emily piece together who the stranger is.  She pulled the cloak up over her shoulders as she sat up leaning back against the willow tree again.  She looked back at her boat.  He was here and I didn't even realize it.  She pulls the cloak up to he nose again and smiles. 
     After a few moments she stands up and shakes out the cloak.  She noticed it was an average size coat.  It wasn't too large or too small.  It was rather plain and average.  Something then falls out of the cloak and lands on the ground near her feet.  She tilts her head noticing an envelope.  On the front it says, "My Lady of the Cove."  It was if she could hear his deep voice speak the words as she read the line across the envelope.  She flips the envelope over and opens it up.  She pulls out a letter and unfolds it.  She shakes her head still not believing that she fell asleep and he was right there.

 "My lady of the cove,  I have sat and watched you walk around the woods trying to find me.  I am not ready to reveal myself to you.  Please don't come looking for me as you will not find me.  I sit here now next to you gazing upon your beauty as you sleep.  I had to reach out and brush your hair out of your face as you slept.  Your cheek was soft to the touch.  Angels are envious over your beauty.  I wish I could enter your dreams and be apart of them.  But for reasons I will keep to myself I will stay hidden in the shadows for now.  I  left for you another gift.  It is in a tin box under the seat in the boat.  I know this will not compare to your loveliness but I wish you will take it in remembrance of me.  With my hand upon my heart I bid you adieu."

     Emily catches her breath over his words.  She raises one hand up to her cheek as if she could still feel him touching her.  She closes her eyes for a moment in awe of everything.  Reality quickly set back in when she remembered the tin box under the seat in the boat.  She wades out into the water and peeks under the seat.  Some water from last nights rain covered the floor of the boat.  She tilts her head and notices a small tin box.  She pulls it out and heads back up on the shore.  She opens it up and there before her was a butterfly-shape opal necklace.  She pulled it out of the tin for a closer look.  Colors of blue and green sparkled before her eyes as the morning sun glistened upon it.  Emily looked out at the entrance of the cove in hopes of seeing him or the boat but nothing was there.  She looks back down at the butterfly necklace and a smile crosses her face. 
     With his cloak in one hand and the necklace in the other hand she makes her way back out to her boat and starts to row towards home. 

 

 

 

 

 

   

The Sheltered Cove

     It was Emily's favorite spot to go to when she needed time to relax and find herself again.  She would paddle herself across the river and into a cove that was tucked away behind huge weeping willows.  This was her Eden.  No one knew of this place but her.  She discovered it several years ago when she was trying to fight her way upstream back to where her cabin is located.  She pulled along side the river bank near the weeping willows for a short rest.  Behind her a ways she heard a faint rippling sound of the water as it spilled over into the small cove.  The water was knee deep throughout but super clear.  Fish could be spotted dancing about under the water.  The birds played a musical symphony in the trees.  On rare occasions when Emily would enter the cove she would find some random animal taking a drink of the water.  Emily would try to be as quiet as she could entering the cove so she didn't disturb the animals.  They would soon hear the water break against the rowboat and they would get scared and scamper away into the woods.
    
     One day she needed to escape life for a while and she found her way back into this cove and pulled her boat ashore.  She laid down on the sandy shore and watch the clouds form into different shapes above her.  The sun beamed down upon her soft face and warmed it.  She would tuck her hands under her head as she would just gaze upwards to the sky.  No thoughts entered her mind.  She was just there, in the moment, taking in the beautiful summer day. 

     She knew of a wild strawberry patch nearby in the woods and remembered that she brought a bucket so she could pick some and bring them home.  She rises up and walks back over to the boat that was still tied up to a birch tree nearby to grab her bucket.  A loud snapping sounded behind her.  Her head shot up and looked around.  She didn't see anything.  While still looking around her fingers were able to locate the handle on the bucket.  It was probably an animal. She thought to herself.  The cove was too peaceful of a place for her to be afraid of.  She walked off in search for the wild strawberries. 

     She lost track of time and came back to the cove close to when the sun was setting.  She quickly went over to the boat and tossed in her bucket filled with strawberries.  She went over to the tree and undid the knot in the rope so she can set her boat free again.  As she was messing with the knot something caught her attention under the willow trees.  There, near the base of the trunk, laid an oval package.  It had floral wrapping paper and with a blue ribbon and bow.  She stared at it for a moment as if it were to transform into something else.  She looked around but no one was there.  Her hands froze over the knot.  She wasn't sure what to do.  No one knew about this cove.  Or so she thought.  But who would be leaving gifts?  Was it even for her? 

     She walked over to the package.  On it was a note.  It said: "To the lady of the cove."  She picked it up.  It was very light.  She looked around again in hopes of seeing who left the package but there was no one around.  It was silent.  The birds had stopped singing their song and she failed to notice that until now.  Emily looked down at the package and thought for a moment and smiled.  She sat down near the trunk of the willow and started to remove the blue ribbon.  It had a lovely velvet texture to it.  She rubbed the ribbon between her fingers for a moment.  It had to be expensive.  You cannot buy ribbon like that around these parts.  She looked up at the sun starting to tuck itself away under the trees.  She had to hurry.  She pulled the ribbon and it unraveled off the box.  She lifted the lid and there was a beautiful sun hat.  It was white with black lace trim above the brim of the hat.  Pink camellia flowers with baby's breath were arraigned neatly around the hat.  The black lace even hung off the back of the hat with the pink camellia flower ending off the ribbon.  Emily gasped at the beauty of the hat.  She tried it on and felt it upon her head.  It was a perfect fit.  She quickly packed the hat back into the box and put the lid on.  She placed the package next to the strawberries in the boat and untied the boat.  She made her way out of the cove and she started to head for shore.  But someone, still on the cove, was watching her leave. 

Terror Of The Great Pumpkin

     Growing up in the late 1970's and early 1980's there was one show everyone looked forward to watching around Halloween and that was "It's The Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown."  This was a time before VCR's became popular and DVD's/DVR's were unheard of.  Having cable was rare as majority of American's still watched 3 to 4 stations on TV.  There was only one time to watch "It's The Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown" and that was a special on one of the local stations.  If a person ended up missing the show they had to wait until next year to view it.  Families would invite other families over to watch it, pop up some popcorn, stir up some Kool-Aid and settle in to watch it. 

   

     Everyone knew the story behind the Great Pumpkin.  The Great Pumpkin is supposed to rise up from a pumpkin patch bringing toys to children who believed in him.  Linus tried desperately to have his pumpkin patch be the chosen patch for the Great Pumpkin to visit.  Sadly, he misses out on Halloween and the Great Pumpkin never did visit his patch.  I think as children we anticipated the Great Pumpkin coming to Linus' pumpkin patch to fulfill his belief's on the Great Pumpkin even though we really knew what the ending would be.

     I must of been around 4 years old.  That would be the Halloween of 1981.  My mom was putting up Halloween decorations around the house while my siblings were at school.  I was in the bathtub happily splashing about without a care to the world.  Suddenly I hear a sound coming from the opened bathroom door, "Hello sweetie, It's the Great Pumpkin."  the voice said in eerie tone.  Walking through the door was this squatty jack-o-lantern with an evil grin.  The eyes were midnight black triangles that were beaming right into my soul.  The pumpkin had green ivy curled up around the brown stem on top.  There was nothing friendly about this jack-o-lantern.

     I screamed in terror.  If the neighbors could of heard me they would of thought I was being hacked to death.  I tried to shimmy up the side of the bathtub to distance myself from the horror that was before my young eyes. 

     My mother, who was crouched behind our front door, heavy plastic, jack-o-lantern decoration, was trying to have fun and really did not expect the reaction that I gave.  She must of thought I was only startled as she continued on with her Great Pumpkin escapade.  "Jill, it is me.  I am the Great Pumpkin.  You don't need to be afraid of me."  she says with a tone still eerie to young ears.  She waddled behind the pumpkin right up to the edge of the tub. 

     I shrieked in freight.  Tears were pouring from my eyes.  My back was up against the wall of the tub and I couldn't escape.  I was stuck there with this evil pumpkin face staring back at me.   My mom must of realized that I really wasn't enjoying the whole Great Pumpkin visiting me during my bath time idea she had of hers.  She popped out from behind the Great Pumpkin to show me it was her behind it.  I was shaking, cold and wet.  My mom left the room with the great pumpkin and came back to help me out of the tub.  She showed me that it was a decoration up on the door and there wasn't anything to be afraid of.  She told me the jack-o-lantern is happy and smiling.  I thought it was more of a maniacal evil grin.  As an adult I can see there is nothing to fear but as a 4 year old little girl I just seen that jack-o-lantern come to life. 

I Didn't Do It ~ A Collection of Car Accidents

     Most people have probably experienced a few minor fender benders in their lifetime.  Sometimes a more serious accident can occur.  Sometimes an animal can jump out in front doing damage to the car.  Accidents can happen anytime and anywhere.  It just takes a split second to alter someone's life forever.  Luckily I have never been in a major accident.  The few that I have been in have been really minor.  The largest animal that has crossed my path has been a raccoon.  The raccoon has done some minor damage to my car and I was thankful the tires to my vehicle took its revenge. 

    In my first accident good ol' Murphy was looming nearby.  I was 16 in the year of 1993 and received my license a few months before.  I have been driving for some time before that as friends would let me drive their car.  A guy that I was dating at the time and I wanted to do a little shopping.  There was a Family Dollar Store on the other side of town, probably not on the best side of town, that I liked going to.  My mom gave me strict instructions not to go on the other side of town and to stick on our side of the Saginaw River.  I had the guy I was dating drive my mom's 1988 Cadillac Eldorado.  That was another rule I was breaking that day.  No one except immediate family was supposed to drive that car.  He pulls into the strip mall parking lot and drives slowly down the main aisle.  A lady who was not paying attention comes flying down one of the side aisles and T-bones the side of the Cadillac.  A huge dent appeared in the side of the car.  I felt doomed.  Here I was in a place I wasn't supposed to be, with someone else driving the car and someone runs into me.  Needless to say I was grounded for a long time.

     Two years had passed.  During that time we moved to Grandville.  I was driving down Chicago Drive, with the same car as the previous accident, approaching the intersection of Wilson.  There were a line cars in the right lane.  I was in the left lane slowing down my speed to stop at the red light.  A car in the right lane became inpatient and tried to steer into the left lane.  He didn't look around before he made the maneuver because as he pulled out he rammed into the front right side of the Cadillac.  The light cracked and there was damage all the way up to the door.  The officer who came on the scene afterwards finished pulling off the trim off the wheel well cutting his hand.  The other driver was cited for the accident.  The Cadillac, again, had to be shipped off to the shop to get fixed. 

     That winter I was attending college at Grand Valley State University.  I was driving through the campus one evening heading back to my dorm at Kistler Hall.  I was stopping at every crosswalk letting students pass by.  I look up in my rearview mirror and seen a plow truck, which is plow raised, coming right at me.  His speed wasn't slowing.  I looked ahead of me and watched the students walking in front of the Cadillac.  I couldn't move.  I closed my eyes and pressed harder on the break.  SMASH!  The car lurched forward.  The students in front of the car jumped out of the way.  I put the car into park and stepped outside.  The driver of the plow truck put his truck in reverse a bit and stepped out of the truck.  We both met behind the car to examine the damage.  Amazingly there was none.  Those who witnessed the accident even had to look.  They were impressed that there wasn't even a ding on the bumper.  We resumed on our way and I pulled into the parking lot near my dorm.  The plow truck followed me.  I was nervous as he already told me that he was watching other students and wasn't paying attention to the road.  I didn't want him behind me again in case something else catches his eyes.  I found my way to a parking spot and he parked the truck right behind the Cadillac.  He got out of the vehicle.  He told me he had to look again at my bumper and he was shocked that there wasn't any damage.  He even admitted that he hit me rather hard too.  I told him I could feel how hard he hit me. 

     The last accident I got into happened when I wasn't even in the vehicle.  It was late in the year of 2005.  I just dropped Christian, Elizabeth, and Ashton off to a private school they attended in Reed City.  James was 3 years old and I had Halvor who was about 3 or 4 months old.  Snow had fallen early that morning making things slick.  A plow truck was shaving off the layer of snow and pushing it off to the side. I pulled into the local grocery store and parked up front.  I was walking up to the doors when I had a feeling to turn around.  As I did I noticed a car traveling towards my car.  I looked at the wheels and I noticed they were not spinning.  The car kept moving.  All I could do was shake my head in disbelief as I watch her crash into the back side of our Plymouth Voyager.  She did a great deal of damage to it.  I head back to the van and place the boys back into their car seats.  We exchange driver information.  She was very apologetic.  I remember thinking that she shouldn't apologize when in an accident because it proves she was a fault, even if she is at fault.  I reassured her that I wasn't upset and I clearly seen that the weather played a factor to the incident.  Her insurance ended up paying for the repair to my van even the co-pay. 

     I haven't had an accident since then.

Sursumdeorsumphobia

     By the title of this weeks blog you can guess that I am writing about a phobia or a fear that I have.  The first part of the word may seem a bit confusing.  In Latin, sursum means up and deorsum means down.  So together sursumderosumphobia means fear of traveling up and down.  In layman's terms I have a fear of elevators. 

     I am not afraid of heights.  In fact I love traveling in an airplane (although my last airplane ride was in the spring of 1996 to Las Vegas) and seeing how beautiful the world appears in a bird's eye view.  I can look over a tall hilly landscape and be mesmerized by the surrounding view.  I am not afraid of tight, closed-in spaces.  I don't seem to mind it in a bit.  However elevators, after so many floors, makes my heart race, my breath to cease, and my head to spin. 

     I can probably trace my fear back to elementary school where in reading class we had to read SRA (Science Research Associates) stories that were color coded to our reading level.  My reading level was in a rose colored section which meant I was an average reader.  We would have to read so many stories, like 15 or 20, and answer questions about the story, then we could move up to the next color and set of stories.  This one particular story had to deal with an elevator operator who died when his elevator plunged down some skyscraper killing him.  On the eve of the anniversary of his death the ghost of the elevator operator reappears and recreating the tragic event.  Sometimes he takes victims with him in his recreated event.  People can hear the screams and the sound of the elevator swooshing through the vertical corridor as it makes its way to the bottom.  I must of been in the first or second grade when I read this and it scared the daylights out of me.  The hand drawn picture that was on my SRA story card was spooky enough.  Chills ran up and down my spine and I read it.  I don't think it was the ghost part of the story that scared me.  It was the realization at such a tender age that elevators, and their cables, could break causing the elevator to soar to the bottom of the building.  Thankfully I didn't have to go into elevator's that much. 

     Now I can handle going into an elevator one or two floors with no problem.  I figure I have a better chance of survival from a lower height in case something does go wrong.  Also, being closer to the ground if the elevator does plummet it would be a shorter fall time-wise.  I probably won't have time to think about what just had happened.  If I am 20+ stories high then I am going to have a moment to think, "Oh crap!  I am falling to my death in a tin box!"  I wouldn't want my last thoughts to be like that.

     I never realized how bad my fear was until my senior class trip in high school.  We went to Chicago and visited the Sears Tower, or what is now called the Willis Tower.  It was the tallest building in the world from 1973 to 1998.  It beat out the first World Trade Tower and was finally surpassed by the Petronas Twin Towers.  The observation deck in on the 103rd floor of the building.  An elevator can go from the ground floor to the 103rd floor in around a minute time.  It is so fast that people can feel the pressure change as they go up. 

     Outside of the building I remember looking up, straight up, to see the height of where we were going.  If I am ascending to the near the top of the tower in 60 seconds then how quickly would I be descending if the cables broke?  How strong are the cables?  Are the cables getting overused and worn down and going to snap during my rise to the top?  These thoughts flooded my mind. 

     Our teacher ushered us inside and made our way through the zigzag of ropes and video stations of how the Sears Tower was made.  Watching that only strengthened my fear.  We neared the elevators.  A fear like I had never known swept across me.  I begged my teacher for me to stay back.  He wouldn't let me.  I was forced to go.  I tried not to make a huge scene as I pleaded with the teacher that I could not do this.  He didn't care.  He couldn't let a student stay behind.  I understand his point of view but how I wished there was an adult that would have stayed back with me.  Several of my classmates and I crowded into an elevator.  The doors shut.  My eyes closed.  I was near the side wall holding on to a railing.  I had to remind myself to exhale slowly.  I could feel the elevator starting to rise.  The other students were having fun whooping it up with the feeling.  Some thought it was fun trying to jump in the elevator.  I could feel the elevator starting to sway and shake a bit.  I couldn't tell if it was from the students or if it is was normal for the elevator to move like that.  I crouched down on the ground still holding onto the bar for dear life.  I started screaming, "MAKE IT STOP! MAKE IT STOP!  I WANT TO GET OFF!"  Tears started to trickle down my face.  I didn't care anymore about not making a scene.  I was beyond petrified.   Finally the elevator stopped.  I couldn't breathe.  The elevator moved down slightly to adjust itself.  When I felt that downward motion I believed that the elevator was ready to make its way careening downward and I was preparing myself to be lifted off the ground due to the fall.  I did manage to find enough to breath to shout out, "WHY DID WE STOP?  WHAT'S GOING ON?  WHAT'S WRONG?!"

     The doors opened.  The students happily made their way out of the elevator and onto the observation deck.  I literally crawled on my hands and knees out of the elevator.  I was so happy to be out of the can of death.  My legs were so numb and weak they couldn't support me.  I crawled my way to a bench and pulled myself up to a sitting position.  I sat there for a moment while my body regained feeling and I was able to breathe again. 

     The view was stunning.  On all sides of the  building we could see forever.  While looking around the different windows my eyes kept shifting around looking for an exit with a stair sign.  I couldn't get truly comfortable because I knew we would have to be going back down the elevator.  DOWN!  I even asked the teacher if I could take the stairs and he laughed and said the stairs don't go that high.  I didn't know whether to believe him or not and he probably thought I was joking.  I really wasn't joking.  I needed those stairs.  I really didn't think my body would let me enter the elevator again. 

     The time passed to quickly and we had to enter the elevator.  I found my position against the wall snuggling up against the bar that wrapped around the elevator.  I knew if the elevator were to fall nothing, not even the bar, was going to save me yet grabbing it gave me a sense of control.  Like normal students they had their fun jumping up and down as we descended towards the bottom.  I scrunched down towards the bottom of the elevator murmuring under my breath, "Please, God, Please, God. Please, God!"  Finally we were at ground level and the doors opened.  I was so happy to be out of there. 

     About two years later my husband and I took a trip to Chicago with our infant son.  Brian wanted to go up the Sears Tower.  I didn't think I could do it again but I told myself I am a mom and I need to find the strength to go up to the top with my husband and son.  It took every ounce of prayer to get me to the top but we did it.  I was numb from doing it and my husband realized how much of a fear I have with elevators.  We went back just after the birth of our third child in 2000.  Brian wanted to go back up the tower but I physically couldn't handle doing that again.  The fearless mommy superpower that I thought all mother obtained somehow passed me by.  I was able to do it with my first born but as I got older I think the fear grew more inside of me and I could not do it. 

     One time my mother treated her children and in-laws out to a fancy restaurant in Grand Rapids.  I am not exactly sure where we were at but we took one elevator upwards to view the lights of Grand Rapids.  I was a little nervous going up high but I knew it wasn't like the Sears Tower.  Going down we took a different set of elevators.  This elevator had glass on the outside so you could fully see outside.  I totally freaked out demanding that the elevator stopped and that I needed to get off.  My family never knew this fear in me before and was totally shocked by my behavior, especially sense I was a grown woman.  I apologized for my behavior when we reached the bottom as I didn't even expect to react the way that I did.  It just happened.  I had no control over the fear I was facing. 

     Last year when my mother-in-law passed away she was up on the seventh floor of the hospital.  My husband asked me if I was able to handle it or if I would rather take the stairs.  I wanted to take the stairs but time was our enemy and we had to reach the seventh floor quickly.  I entered the elevator and took a deep breath.  My husband would try to crack a joke to help calm me down and relax me.  Mentally I would try to displace where I was at and not think about the elevator cables breaking and the elevator falling to the bottom.  Maybe it was the realization that I was in a hospital and if anything were to happen to the elevator that would probably be the best place for it to happen especially with medical staff being right there. 

     Elevator accidents do happen.  The Census of Fatal Occupational Injuries reports about 20 deaths per year related to elevators.  Most deaths that do occur are mostly due to maintenance workers working on the elevators or careless reckless errors due to elevator riders. 
The link below recaps 10 terrible elevator accidents.  Perhaps after reading some you may find yourself suffering a bit from sursumdeorsumphobia.
http://listverse.com/2011/12/23/10-tragic-elevator-accidents/