Wolf Lake Class of 1948 and Labor Day Weekend

Gerald was one of 16 in his Wolf Lake High School graduating class. One alumnus and wife were in the habit of coming back for a late summer visit and a McClure grade school reunion. A few years back, the local social leader of the 1948 class—Irma Dell Eudy Elkins--started calling the rest of us to meet for dinner at Fox Hollow, the East Cape fish eatery.

Others who went to school with this class and some relatives might also show up for the gathering. I finally began to get acquainted with those long-ago buddies from Gerald’s high school days. A couple of classmates have died and a couple of the locals don’t feel the need for seeing long-ago classmates, but still there are always two or three long tables of us. When this year’s reunion was planned, last spring’s flood caused the fish place at East Cape to close. There was some question whether Foxy’s could reopen, so Irma Dell reserved the room in a Mexican restaurant at Anna for us on Thursday night before the holiday weekend began.

This year everyone was missing “Doc” Knupp whom classmates had sent funeral flowers for earlier in the summer. He had been brought with his walker from a nursing home the last couple of years, and we were glad to again see his sister Mary Ellen from Cape who had brought him last year.

We enjoyed picking up Ruby Morrison Treece from her assisted living quarters in Marion, where she had moved when her multi-floored Cape Girardeau home became too much to take care of. She is still recovering from open heart surgery, but is looking good. She and Gerald shared a birthday when they went to the rural Miller Pond School as children. (That building was just torn down this summer, and Gerald’s brother Garry acquired those bricks) For a few years back then, a small country church congregation met in the school house on Sunday, and Gerald and Ruby made professions of faith there on the same day. Ruby married a young farmer in the Mississippi River bottoms, and Jim was the brother of our sister-in-law Opal Treece Glasco. In small communities, there are often layered connections between people, and this has always fascinated me.

(Anyone who digs into genealogy when populations were more limited immediately begins to find such overlaps--siblings marrying siblings and such. When we had two daughters living in Nashville, TN, I became convinced from their stories that this was also true in city circles because they learned that a stranger at a party might turn out to be connected to someone they already knew. I regretted I had not majored in sociology to better understand these inter-connections of people better. I guess this is similar to the six degrees of separation that mathematicians and academics explored for us and popular culture embraced.)

Ruby was an excellent student with a wonderful sense of humor and later became a successful business woman when they left the Mississippi bottoms and moved to Carmi after Jim became an insurance agent there. We enjoyed talking all the way to and from Anna, and Gerald and Ruby caught up on many mutual acquaintances.

A sad message from my cousin Ken Johnson in California waited when we came in that evening. His brother Eugene up in Collinsville had passed away. So the end of that evening was filled with my reflections and reminisces of my Rockenmeyer family connections. Ken and Gene used to bring their Boy Scout tents to Mount Airy Farm, and we kids would all camp out in the front yard with cups of meat grease to put on our chigger bites. More recently, Gerald and I took our grandkids to Cahokia Mounts one summer and on to Gene and Elsie’s house, where Gene had an entire museum room devoted to his rock and Native American collections.

Suddenly we were into Labor Day weekend, and we had made no special plans. I realized as I read the weekend papers that many people were making the most of this late summer holiday weekend with visitors, reunions, cookouts, or going to the DuQuoin Fair, and I felt a little left out. Our nephew DuWayne had become sick at work on Friday and was in Cape Girardeau hospital for tests, so yesterday afternoon Gerald went with his brother Keith to see him. I was at our daughter Katherine’s as usual on Sunday afternoon. She and I were highly delighted when her sister Mary Ellen phoned. She and Brian had come down to clean out their grain bin today for this year’s crop and found no one home at Woodsong. So Brian brought her into Katherine’s, and soon Mary Ellen had Kate and me in stitches as only she can do. When David brought teenage Sam home from his youth group, Sam added to the hilarity with his impersonations and witty remarks and the belly laughing continued. I knew this was better than any comedy club, and I no longer felt left out of the holiday celebration.

Mary Ellen and I finally went home and joined Brian and Gerald at the kitchen table, where everyone fixed themselves hot pockets or pot pies from the freezer and visited more while also enjoying tomatoes and cantaloupe from Gerald’s garden. Since Brian had taken their camper up last week for the Farm Progress Show where Stone Seed had an exhibit, they and Fifi stayed over night with us. So there was more visiting this morning. And today Gerald brought in the first watermelon from his garden to finish our lunch menu. With no planning, my Labor Day weekend has been a success.

The Holiday's Over

Our weekend was indeed special with the Archibalds, Taylors, and Leslie and her boyfriend Michael visiting. It was not as good as it would have been if Katherine had been well enough to come out to the farm or if Vickie and Geri Ann had been able to come visit Gma Shirley as planned, but that trip from Georgia was not to be. A last-minute softball practice for yesterday was called, and that reduction in the weekend ended their plans to drive up. Everyone was bummed, but I am sure the unexpected weekend at home was more restful than the long trip up here from Georgia.

Yet I know Vickie and Geri Ann wanted to see everyone—especially Gma Shirley (Vickie’s mother) as well as Geri Ann’s sister Tara and husband Bryan and nine-month-old Maddux and three-year-old Aidan. We all felt bad for Shirley since she can’t travel to Georgia and other places because she is so conscientious to take good care of her very sick little sister Janice. Shirley now stays next door with Janice since their elderly mother died in May.

When Gerry and Vickie were dating, Vickie’s family and her grandparents and Janice lived in adjoining homes on down the road from us and around a corner and down that road—not close enough to be called neighbors even in a rural community—but still close to us. In fact, during high school days, Gerry sometimes visited and courted Vickie and her entire family by riding his horse down to their place on a Sunday afternoon. So when Gerry and Vickie come up from Georgia, it is easy to see both families during the same trip. But sadly, only Shirley and Janice remain in the two-home family compound that had eight back then in those high school days. Nevertheless, Shirley had Vickie’s brothers and families in for her famous chicken and dumplings for Tara’s family even though Vickie and Geri Ann could not come. Aidan played baseball with his cousin Drew, a high school athlete, and he felt big indeed, and Tara caught up on the Johnson clan news. And everyone got to take turns holding and loving on Maddux, who Tara says is the lover in the family.

Although he can cry if disturbed enough, Maddux is usually smiling. He immediately stole Gerald’s heart when thet arrived Saturday by not only by smiling and cuddling continuously with him but by reaching up his little mouth to repeatedly kiss his great grandfather.

Gerald had been so excited to know Aidan would finally have time to dig in the lime pile here at Woodsong. He had bought Aidan a little digger after their last visit. That time Aidan wanted to work, and he kept the whole crew of grown-ups busy. He dragged shovels and hoes out of Gerald’s shop to put people to work on that lime pile. When his mother showed up and there were no more shovels, he dragged out the heavy post hole digger and handed it to Tara. “Here,” he said, “You use the nabdabber.” No one was sure where he got that name for that tool, but somehow it seemed to fit. After he wore all of them out and they began sneaking away, I came outside and he had us climb into the “mule.” He wanted me to drive it, but I honestly told him I had forgotten how. He snorted disgustingly, “Well pretend.” And pretend we did for the next half hour.

So in preparation for this visit, Gerald had our little red wagon, the new Aidan-size shovel he had bought him and the digger all ready for Aidan’s use. Despite the rains throughout the weekend (especially heavy Saturday night), there were sunny spells that allowed Aidan to use the tools Gerald had ready for him, and I suspect Gerald enjoyed the play even more than Aidan.

Leslie and Mike arrived right before midnight on Saturday after being in a church retreat in Nashville all day, so we were pleased Sunday morning to be able to hear Leslie sing a new song she had written at church. Leslie cautioned us not to ask Mike to play guitar because he would want to so badly, but he cannot right now because of tendonitis. Weight lifting and guitar playing had done a number on him, and he is in therapy to regain proper use of his arms for his passion for guitar.

The Taylors were down from Waggoner for a late Sunday dinner, and we had a relaxing afternoon and evening. When Tara’s family returned from Gma Shirley’s, Aidan was fascinated by teenage Trent’s Stitch hat, which he entertains us with at holidays. (Maddux thought it was scary.) Trent was wonderful giving Aidan lots of stories and attention, and Brianna played Candy Land with Aidan. Everyone wanted their turn with Maddux.

Somehow the old worn-out Sorry game was found; and after the kids got it out, all the men (Brian, Bryan, and Gerald) ended up at the dining room table playing Sorry. Tara was there for part of the game when she did not have to stop and take care of Maddux or talk softball on the phone with Gerry. I had not seen Gerald play Sorry since Erin was a preschooler, when we played many a game at the old farm house under her directions. Bryan was as competitive at Sorry as he was at football. He was a stickler for the correct rules and Gerald griped. However, after he won, I figured he may have liked the real rules better than Erin’s changing rules—which I think probably let her win most of the time. Everyone was missing Erin since her birthday is coming up. They wanted her at the farm to celebrate, but she was in class yesterday as Texas A&M did not take off for Labor Day.

People slept as late as they wanted yesterday and had cereal and fruit or whatever they could find as they came to the kitchen table. Some fished, rode the mule, took paddle boat rides, or texted friends. And there was plenty of time to visit. At noon there were 10 of us at the dining room table for ham with biscuits and gravy, fresh corn-on-the cob and garden tomatoes and all the left-overs from previous meals. (Brian was not at the table because he was up on the other farm spraying with his fancy new spray rig. He came in mid-afternoon sunburned but happy.) After dinner the packing of cars had to begin. Sweet corn was bundled up to return with them to the city. By late afternoon everyone was gone again their separate ways. Woodsong was so quiet.