My hometown now looks quite different than it did several years ago. My past includes cows, pigs, chickens, gardens, tractors and the usual “farm” stuff. My hometown from the past is where I found my hero. We lived in a farming community between Minco, and Binger named Cogar. Both sets of my grandparents lived close by, as a matter of fact grandpa and grandma lived just across the sandy road we lived on.
My granny lived a few miles east of us and we were always able to celebrate holidays with both sets of grandparents. I fondly recall helping with the Thanksgiving meal by standing guard over the toaster and making sure each piece of bread for the dressing was well toasted. Then I tore it to pieces as I watched her add it to the huge roasting pan on the countertop. There came many other occasions to help with the cooking.
My favorite was the “crazy cake” that we would make and cut a piece right after it came out of the oven, and this was before the icing! Then we would take a pat of butter (the real stuff) and let it melt over this light and airy piece of chocolate cake. My mouth waters as I write about it today!
I always had the tendency to ask a lot of questions. Granny was my savior one day. I was watching my uncle dig a very deep hole that was to store cattle feed. I guess I was interrupting him with questions more than he had time for and he had granny come and get me and give me something to do. I always wanted to know “why” and most of the time I got my answers.
My granny was a hard worker on the farm. She raised eight kids by herself most of her life. She always had time for me and I remember her pulling me on her cotton sack as she pulled cotton. I would ride up and down the row until it got too heavy with me and the cotton.
Little did I know how heavy the sack was until one day I graduated from the toe sack, with the overalls shoulder strap sewn on it, to a brand new duck material cotton sack, with the plastic bottom. That new sack was longer than I was tall! I had achieved getting 50 pounds of cotton stuffed in that toe sack and my “reward” was the bigger sack. Once my huge cotton sack started getting full, I soon recognized just how hard my granny did work.
She was instrumental in my liking to fish. We would stand on the bank of her pond with cane poles in our hands. The pole was three times longer than I was tall. She would swing the cork and bait into the pond and then hand the pole to me. We would catch fish like nobody’s business, me catching and her baiting and returning the line back into the water. We visited the pond often and it was always more “catching” than “fishing.” Even as I wonder the countryside today, I look at every pond and think, “I bet there are some good fish in that pond”.
So, my granny is my hero that I tell you about today. I learned my life lessons from her and am what I am today because of her. Thanks, granny!
Editor’s Note: This is the first of the “Hometown Heroes” stories we will be printing over the coming weeks and months. We’d like you to tell us and your fellow readers about your hero. The only real guidelines are for you to try to stay under 600 words. Just e-mail it to Executive Editor Mike McCormick at michael.mccormick@news-star.com and include your name and phone number so that we can arrange a photo.
We’ll look forward to hearing from you.
