The Early Fifties, A Different Time, A Different World

Been browsing through my sister Sarah's Photo Album.  It brought back a myriad of memories.  I can still remember the excitement over Sarah having her first baby, Phyllis Jean.  Phyllis made me  'Aunt Jean'  ....and oh so much joy that summer when we met for the first time. Also, there were many visits as well as  many memories of those drives to Princeton, West Virginia or to Dugspur, our Mother's old home place.  Those yearly trips often included stops at caves or drives through the Great Smoky Mountains.  Such is the photo below at Newfoundland Gap, some 5,045 feet up somewhere between North Carolina and Tennessee.  It was August and we were headed to the Marshall Family Reunion in Princeton from Greenville South Carolina.   I would have been twelve--almost thirteen.  With camera in hand, I believe we pulled over at every scenic pull off.

Above:  Bonnie, Jean, Phyllis Jean, Mother, Daddy, Scott.  (Sarah took the picture.)

The road through the Smokey Mountains has an abundance of places to stop for photos.  Even today we still pull over and take those same photo opts--how did we get so much older when the hills are the same?  Below:  Jean and Mother seated.  Scott, Phyllis, Sarah, Daddy and Bonnie standing.

It was the back of this organdie dress below that brought back a rush of memories of how times were back then.   The values and beliefs of the fifties and the rules of our home ....  My mother had made this dress that I am wearing below.  I felt so pretty in it.  But in the fifties, organdie wrinkled  badly.  I had worn this dress to church on Sunday morning and was pressing it to wear again on Sunday evening to church when my Dad walked in and caught me 'ironing on the Sabbath.'  I was reprimanded for violating the Sabbath.    Yes, I remember, you did not buy or sell on Sunday, we did not work or eat out on Sunday, you filled your car with gas on Saturday --  never Sunday. (How was it Mother still cooked and we still did dishes on the Sabbath.)  Sunday was a day of rest:  Sunday School, Church, naps, friends over if we behaved and then Church again that evening.  So preparing for evening service, I just wanted the wrinkles out of the back of my dress as a result of sitting in  Church on Sunday morning.  Ironing on Sunday was an unacceptable action on my part.

But that memory was just a rabbit trail.   Here we are in Princeton at the Painter home.  The Family Reunion took place this year on Aunt Merle's lawn.  I'm not sure but this may have been the  year when Bonnie and I were invited to stay an extra week -- me with the Painters, and Bonnie with Cousins in Keystone, W VA.  Cousin Paulene's boyfriend flew us in a small, four-seater back to Greenville after our visit.   What an amazing memory that made for Bonnie and myself. 

But my point of this posting is to discuss the difference in attitudes, in manner of dress, the morals of the day.  I note how we dressed in these photos.   Traveling in the August heat  by car in dresses and the men in slacks.  And below, at a later time, Sarah and Phyllis traveling by train in hats, gloves and dress suits.    The manner of dress carries a tremendous impact on the attitude and behavior of the person.    This was a time of courtesy, honor, manners and honesty.   It seems silly today, but our comfortable, casual, and even sloppy styles of today accompany rudeness,  ungratefulness, lack of caring, to only mention a few attributes of our present day. 

I loved our home at 502 Bennett Street.   Being the youngest in the family, this was a special time in my life.  Six children (and often additional house guests) and we had one bathroom.   There was a coal furnace in the basement that had to be fueled.    All the girls shared one small room if I remember correctly.  The boy's room was the size of today's closets.   I do not remember any air conditioners and in the winter, there was only the floor furnace vents. Laundry was done every Monday morning with a wringer machine and we hung the clothes out on the line to dry.   Life was simple and when one gave another their word, they meant it and kept it. I never remember telling a lie and if I disappointed my parents in any way, I would have grieved more than they.  How far have we come.    I don't want to go back to those days, but I would love to see the values of honesty and respect return to our society.  Would it be possible to keep the comfortable, casual clothing and still maintain honor?  And could we eat at a restaurant on Sunday and our word would still remain true?

Nana Has Added To Someones Life

Every once in a while I run across a card in an old book or tucked in a secret place.  This one is from a number of years ago.  But it was nice to find it and know someone loved me enough to send me a hand written card.

A Visit From The Elder Brother

It's the person who loves brother and sister who dwells in God's light and doesn't block the light from others. 

I John 2:10 The Message 

I LOVE my brothers!

On Wednesday afternoon, August 25th, we were blessed by a visit from Greenville, SC, my oldest brother, William O. Montgomery,  better known as Bill.    Bill brought with him his new bride of three months, Nell. 

So on Thursday morning, Ken managed to get Bill to participate in his favorite ritual, the hot tub therapy event.

And he even had Bill try on his Bass Pro Shop hat which looked so much better on Bill than it ever did on Ken.

No amount of coaxing would get Nell into that hot tub, but she did enjoy the deck and reading a book while the guys bubbled.

Later morning, my youngest brother, Granville H, known as Bud, and his wife, Barbie, came for a visit and of course to meet Bill's new bride, Nell.    We had such a great time and enjoyed lunch together.

In the sun room.

Barbie and Nell hit it off as new sisters-in-law.  While we all miss Millie, everyone fell in love with Nell and are so happy for Bills new love.

Of course the Montgomery tradition requires photos of the brothers as well.

Just as we were finishing lunch, Jennifer arrived with her two girls, Megan and Allison.  They are always so glad to see their grandparents, Bud and Barbie.  Jennifer was leaving them in Tulsa for the weekend so that she and Kirk could make a quick trip to Dallas.

The cameras were snapping all over the place.  Here Bill is showing Jennifer the shot he just took.

Megan and Allie were happy to play with the Babe as well as a few toys under the stairs.

And Barbie had to take her turn with the Babe as well.

I love my brothers.  They are very, very special to me.   Each one has a very unique personality.  Yet both are somewhat laid-back and quiet.  Bill loves to serve others while Bud loves to make them happy with a tease or a laugh.  Both have a very positive outlook and a deep trust in God and HIS LOVE.    They grew up in different worlds .. deaf vs.hearing .  While Buddy went to boarding school at the age of four,  Bill found it normal to go away to Holmes Bible school at the age of 14.  Buddy grew up in Schools for the Deaf...first in Fredrick, Maryland, then Spartinburg, South Carolina and graduated from OSD Sulphur, Oklahoma.  Our Father was a preacher, writer, editor, etc which caused little Bill to move with the family 5 times in the first seven years of his life.  Dad was gone a great deal of our lives -- out preaching the gospel.  So after Buddy was born, with three Deaf children, our parents moved us to Fredrick Md, where I was born.  We lived very close to MSD so our two sisters and brother could come home on the weekends if they wanted. 

My earliest memory of Bill is his playing the trumpet for the Salvation Army on the street corner.  And I remember one cold snowy Sunday morning, Bill picked me up and carried me on his shoulders as the family walked to church in the deep snow.  Our parents gave us a wonderful heritage of faith in God.  Bill continued on to enter the ministry, pastoring churches from SC to OK to MO to IL and I don't remember where else. 

Here are three of the six siblings with their spouses.  We pray we do not loose any more of our family this year.   Loosing three in one year was traumatic, painful and sobering.

When people were thinking of leaving, Allie was climbing the stairs.  She is so adorable.  Here she is after conquering the top step.

Now since I had special guests, I decided to try some of Sommer's recipes from her food blog.  I chose the Thai Fried Rice and here it is with the Jasmine rice, pork, curry, green onions, garlic, fresh ginger and frozen peas.  It was really great and definitely something I must make again.  http://aspicyperspective.blogspot.com/

http://aspicyperspective.blogspot.com/2010/03/wanderlust-and-breakfast-fried-rice.html

I almost forgot to show the finished product.

And when I brought out my camera, so did Bill.

Babe worked hard to worm her way into our house guests affections.  She loves to have her rawhide held while she chews away on it and Bill was obliged to do so.  Is this Babe spoiled or what!  Nell was not much of a dog person (Like I am not) but Bill even got to the point where he asked if she would be interested in a pet.

I love this shot, it has so much expression without words.

During the three days, nieces and nephews dropped by for short visits.

Saturday morning breakfast.  We enjoyed Whole grain Oat Nut Pancakes from Laura's Blog.  These are my favorite pancakes.        http://darkredcreme.com/     

http://darkredcrema.com/?s=Whole+Grain+Oat+Nut+Pancakes

Then that sad moment for us when it was time to pack up the car and head out to complete the two-week round of visiting.  Bill and Nell had gone to Hobby Lobby to select flowers for the grave sites of both Bill's oldest son Billy and our Father, G H Montgomery -- Dad buried in Kansas City and Billy in Moberly, Missouri.  They will be traveling through Missouri and Illinois before heading back home.

A Sweet Good-Bye and Thank You for coming.  Ken and I were very honored by your presence.

Thank you Bill for being my wonderful brother and for introducing us to your new bride, Nell.

Please come again!

Remembering O'Neal

It's been almost 7 years since November 19, 2002. That's the day I don't enjoy remembering, yet I'm not panicking over the tight throat or the tears when I do remember.  It's the day O'Neal McKenzie Scrivner chose Heaven over this earth.  She was 19 months old at the time.  What does one do when the doctors say it is a malignant tumor and they have done all they can do.  They send hospice out to prepare the family for death.   But this family believes in miracles, believes that with God ALL things are possible.  This family believes that if you have the faith of a mustard seed, you can move mountains.  Reports were coming in from all over the USA of believers praying and believing for O'Neal's miracle.  

I had gone to Dallas to help Joel and Jennifer during this time.   That morning, I offered to stay with O'Neal so that they could go to church together.

I placed O'Neal on the bed and laid down beside her to sing to her.  She had been making a few little humming sounds and I asked her if she was singing with the angels.  I never expected that she really might be doing just that.  --- And then, the next time I went to kiss her, she was cool and I think not breathing.  I started doing baby CPR while trying to call Joel and Jen on the phone.     They rushed home but O'Neal was gone.   The shock, the unbelief, the inability to know what to do next, Suzanna and I continued to give CPR for another hour --- how do you know it is OK to stop?  How can you know what to do when this is not suppose to happen to our baby?

The worse moment was when the funeral home people came to pick her up.  The man stood there with his arms outstretched and a blanket on them saying, "place her in my arms when you are ready" and he promised to hold her all the way and then just stood there waiting for Jennifer to give her up.  It hurts so bad to see your children hurting.    The devastation for a new Mommie and Daddy.   The confusion of knowing God was able to do the miracle but accepting that GOD's All Knowing Wisdom is so far above our understanding..... He had a different plan in mind..  His ultimate plan was greater than our wants.

I don't know how Joel and Jennifer dealt with it in the months to come. It required a lot of strength from God, and of course, there was nothing easy about it.  But for me .... well, my VW Bug became my alter of tears.  And I also think that is when I started playing with photography and playing with pictures on the computer.  It became my coping therapy.

After the funeral, when I came home, the main interpreting job that was available for me was at a Mental Health Facility about an hour and twenty minute drive from home.  Every morning I would get in the car and cry for one hour and twenty minutes.  There was a little store just down the street from the job site.  I would pull in, go in the restroom and wash my face, look in the mirror and smile and then go to my job.  It was a job-site of total depravity, desperation and filty beyond description.  The two clints I was assigned to work with were severely mentally ill.  One was extremely violent with minimal language whose communication consisted of yelling, hitting and pooping in his pants.  Here I was, sent to interpret for him when he had not communicated using sign language for years.  I learned to work through grief  by determining that I was going to find a way to get him to look at me so communication could happen. I put all my energy into a terrible situation and accepted the challenge to make communication better for another person.   So, each day I spent 6 hours working,  And when it was time to go home, I climbed into the Bug, surrendered my smile and cried all the way home.   I'm not sure, but I am thinking that job lasted for another 8 months or so.  And along with the communication work was the laborious work of getting through my own stages of loss.  Being willing to write this in my blog is still another step of dealing.

So, here we are today,  seven years later, seven is a good number and life is good!  Joel and Jennifer have two more adorable little girls, Sydney and Blakely -- precious gifts from God.    I still cry in the car sometimes, and I'm still playing with pictures, and now I'm learning how to blog.    Yes, life is a process.

O'Neal, we loved you and still  miss you, but we will spend eternity with you when our work on earth has ended.  And we who knew you and loved  you and fought cancer with you, have become greater because of you. 

This Tree Was My Mothers Sacred Spot in Her Youth

My Parents left us children a rich heritage.  In one of her letters, Mother wrote the following:  "I was born on March 14, 1902 in a one-room addition to the old log house that was located where the old barn now stands.  In the fall when the leaves came down, we would go to the Sugar Tree, rake up the leaves and play in the leaves.  We would also swing on the long limbs that ran out from the base of the tree.  After I was saved at age 18, the Sugar Tree became my favorite PRAYER Place.  I especially liked it as a  place to read God's WORD because I was far enough away from the house that I felt I could pray aloud.   I remember the Sugar Tree as a place to play and pray.... ...... when I felt that I'd really received a blessing, I would take a maple leaf from the tree and place it in my Bible to remind me that God had really met me there." 

In MY childhood, our only family vacations were to visit our Grandmas.  The  foundest memories are of our Mothers ole' home place where we played in the creek, in the barn and hiking to the Sugar Maple Tree or up the hill to the cemetery were my sister Virginia Merle was burried.  Mother would also show us the little bed she slept in and tell us stories of her childhood in those Virginia hills.

The Sugar Maple tree today is 300 years old, and reported to be second  largest Sugar Maple in Virginia  in trunk circumference.  This tree is the largest for canopy spread and height.  The photo was taken by my nephew, Stephen, and standing by the tree is my oldest brother, Bill.  It was taken last week when they visited the ole' home place.   Thanks Steve for sharing.

Life, how does it get this way?

Is it the times we live in or is it that I'm just getting old? Here we are packing to take off on an extremely exciting trip in our lives: Barcelona, Salou, Cannes, Florence, Rome, Naples, Sicily, Tunis, Palma De Mallorca ....... we've been planning it for months and both of us working our fingers off to pay for it. Ken and I are very excited: so the laundry is done, the walking shoes are purchased, the suitcases are measured, and weighed and off we go!
But back home, our little Blakely is still not ready to be born and will probably come while we are out to sea. And both of my oldest sister's husbands are not doing well. Sarah and Scott in Ellicott City, Maryland and Paula and Jim in Ontario, Canada. They need so much love and help and day to day support. I talked to my oldest brother, Bill in Greenville, SC today. He just lost his wife last month and now his youngest son, Dan will be having a triple bypass surgery on Tuesday. And I talked with Paula and with Barbie and Buddy last night on the OJO, telling them I'll be praying for them. I am so glad that last fall, Ken and I took a driving trip to visit all of my siblings. Little did we know that it would be the last time we would see some of our family. Our lives are as the grass, it grows for a season and then ........ eeeeeekkkkkk, here comes the lawn mower.
I'm glad we have God's promises:
"You're my servant, serving on my side.
I've picked you. I haven't dropped you.
Don't panic, I'm with you.
There's no need to fear for I'm your God.
I'll give you strength. I'll help you.
I'll hold you steady, keep a firm grip on you.
Count on it..................................."

And with that, we are off to places we've read about and never seen. You can be sure it will be a picture taking event. We'll be back with plenty of photographs. And back to the question, is it the times, or are we getting old? I think we're gettins old and our world is changing very quickly.

European Cathedral Window

Ken is still playing with his camera.

When we first received our Cathedral Stained Glass, I checked out books from the library to discover the particulars of it. Now, I've forgotten what I learned. I do remember that it is painted glass and is probably European and I'm guessing the time is 1700's or 1800's. At any rate, we have loved it and thrilled that it has an 'S' in the middle of it and it hangs over our front entrance window at the stair landing. I'll add the reason Ken is practicing on his camera is we will be taking photos of real European cathedrals next month.

Our Miracle EverGreen

We moved into our present home the week of Christmas, 1994. The years before had been extremely tough. In the 80's we had our own business, The Power Company, which failed after a series of TV Evangelists scandals. Our business was tied to helping ministries and after the Swaggart and PTL mockery in the 80's, all ministries suffered. We went down with it, experienced much loss -- home, car, etc, etc. Ken had to work out of town more than seven years while we were recovering. Ten years after bankruptcy, we were able to purchase a home again. So, a few days before Christmas we bought a living tree, put it in a wheelbarrow outside our sliding glass door and opened our gifts, the most important gift was that of a home. Our victory statement was that God would restore to us more than the enemy had taken from us. The little evergreen was a visual aid of our trust in a faithful God.
We planted the tree and watched it grow healthy and strong even as our faith in our loving God had grown stronger. A few years later, the city came in and cut down our greenbelt behind our home to widen the street. Our now large healthy faith tree was left laying on it's side -- too big to move and root structure much larger than any hole we could dig to replant. It lay on it side for several months when the idea of just getting help to stand it up and put soil around the root system was born. Neighbors helped and Ken covered the roots with bags of top soil. Our symbol of life became our miracle tree. It has survived root exposure, ice storms, bag worms, drought, disease, and is now a living symbol of faithfulness and strength. The Scrivner family has experienced the same kind of tough challenges, and yet we too stand tall and victorious.

"No Meatball????....then No Spaghetti"

I thought of little Carson today while eating the last two bites of Ken's meatball. We've discovered a little place, Oliveta, which has the best tomato bisque soup, the best Greek salad, and the best meatballs. But that is not my story. I was finishing off Ken's meatball today (I had been a good girl and ordered the Greek Salad) when I fondly thought of Carson.

It was September last year. Carson was three. On Sunday, we drove to Greenville to visit Bill and Millie. After church, we went to a family restaurant to have lunch.

Placing our orders, Carson ordered spaghetti with meatballs.

Waitress: We only have spaghetti sauce with meat in it.

Nana: That will be just fine.

Waitress to Ava: What would you like?

Ava: I'll have the grilled cheese sandwich.

Carson: Wait a minute, wait a minute...... NO MEATBALL? no spaghetti! ...then I'll have what Ava has.

Nana: Wait a minute, he will have a grilled cheese sandwich ... No meatball? then no spaghetti!

When did kids get so smart? Forty years ago, my kids did not have much choice ..... but then you know, forty years ago, we hardly ever went to a restaurant!