Turning Points
Life is a journey. It has a beginning and it has an end. All along its path are events, places
and people who are turning points. Here, I relate some of these turning points in my own
journey. Hopefully, the stories will illuminate and maybe entertain some of those who care
enough to read.
Life is a journey. It has a beginning and it has an end. All along its path are events, places
and people who are turning points. Here, I relate some of these turning points in my own
journey. Hopefully, the stories will illuminate and maybe entertain some of those who care
enough to read.
| "Charge it" July 15, 2006 |
Fruit pies were a favorite with Mama. We supplied the
blackberries by the gallon. One season Hugh Louis,
Bobbie and I picked 88 gallons in a field up the railroad
tracks. We sold some for 50 cents a gallon and those
berries were worth every penny as we returned after an
entire morning of thrashing through briars, wet grass
and snakes to get them. Bobbie usually had about as
many twigs, leaves and green berries as black ones.
Mama would cook them up by the washtub full for
canning and making jam that would last us all winter.
Her blackberry jam cake ensured that Santa came by
every Christmas eve for his slice and a glass of milk.
The cherry tree in the backyard yielded tart ones that
were too good to not eat and the birds thought so too.
blackberries by the gallon. One season Hugh Louis,
Bobbie and I picked 88 gallons in a field up the railroad
tracks. We sold some for 50 cents a gallon and those
berries were worth every penny as we returned after an
entire morning of thrashing through briars, wet grass
and snakes to get them. Bobbie usually had about as
many twigs, leaves and green berries as black ones.
Mama would cook them up by the washtub full for
canning and making jam that would last us all winter.
Her blackberry jam cake ensured that Santa came by
every Christmas eve for his slice and a glass of milk.
The cherry tree in the backyard yielded tart ones that
were too good to not eat and the birds thought so too.
I was born in this house in New Haven and
lived here with our family of ten until age 17
lived here with our family of ten until age 17
But in spite of that, we usually had many quarts preserved for homemade cherry pie throughout
the year.
The June apple tree was loaded every year and they were best when eaten just before they
ripened but again, we competed with the birds for our share. Some birds became casualties of
our B-B gun artillery. Fried apples and apple roll were great treats, remembered even today.
We lived across the street from the popcorn factory. Farmers brought their truckloads of popcorn
on the cob and we managed to rub blisters on our hands getting some of those cobs shucked.
Then, you blew the white fluff out before popping a few pans of it to pour in a huge pile on the
newspaper spread out on the living room linoleum floor. That was a Sunday afternoon ritual.
The Big Store supplied the rest of our diet. It was located on First Street several doors west of the
Baptist Church and sold groceries as well as home building materials. At the counter the baloney
was sliced and wrapped in white paper. Round steak that had to be beaten with a tenderizing
hammer, and other grocery items were bought over the counter without cash. We just said,
“Charge it” and Garland Culver put it on the account. Who needed checks or check cards?
A typical meal was fried baloney, hominy, white beans, sliced bread and milk. Desert was
frequently buttered bread with sugar sprinkled on it. The younger kids sat on the backless bench
and the others were in chairs. We always said grace and from there on it was pandemonium. A
lot of times the milk was spilt but nobody cried over it.
We never missed a meal and I marvel now at how our parents managed with the size of our
family. We never ate at restaurants and actually, I don't remember ever being in one in New Haven.
the year.
The June apple tree was loaded every year and they were best when eaten just before they
ripened but again, we competed with the birds for our share. Some birds became casualties of
our B-B gun artillery. Fried apples and apple roll were great treats, remembered even today.
We lived across the street from the popcorn factory. Farmers brought their truckloads of popcorn
on the cob and we managed to rub blisters on our hands getting some of those cobs shucked.
Then, you blew the white fluff out before popping a few pans of it to pour in a huge pile on the
newspaper spread out on the living room linoleum floor. That was a Sunday afternoon ritual.
The Big Store supplied the rest of our diet. It was located on First Street several doors west of the
Baptist Church and sold groceries as well as home building materials. At the counter the baloney
was sliced and wrapped in white paper. Round steak that had to be beaten with a tenderizing
hammer, and other grocery items were bought over the counter without cash. We just said,
“Charge it” and Garland Culver put it on the account. Who needed checks or check cards?
A typical meal was fried baloney, hominy, white beans, sliced bread and milk. Desert was
frequently buttered bread with sugar sprinkled on it. The younger kids sat on the backless bench
and the others were in chairs. We always said grace and from there on it was pandemonium. A
lot of times the milk was spilt but nobody cried over it.
We never missed a meal and I marvel now at how our parents managed with the size of our
family. We never ate at restaurants and actually, I don't remember ever being in one in New Haven.
| Copyright © 2005 leoshoemaker.com |
___________________________________________________
| And we know that all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are the called according to his purpose. (Romans 8:28 KJV) |
leoshoemaker.com
 | |  | |  | |  | |  |
Albums, commentary, inspiration and information
| How I found a new life by Leo Shoemaker |
