As a kid one of our favorite things to do was go on canoe trips with family and friends. My parents had several spots we could put in and several we could take out. How long the trip was to take determined the in and out spots on the river. We usually had at least one canoe that was the older kids and the adults would always have their own canoes. For the kid’s canoe we were able to collect mussels, gather shells and go at a pace that worked for us. I remember trips that included running into rocks in the middle of the river, going under trees that overhang the river, and my aunts riding in inner tubes down the river. The rocks that we would run into were marked with paint for years after, making them a favorite landmark to look at as we went down the river.
Our furthest spot to put the canoes in was at our farm we called the Ranch. It was at the very back of a field and had a path that went down a hill to the river. Right before the river spot were the foundations of buildings that had been part of the historic town of Conkey Town, most recently known from the Conkey Town bridge that was still standing years after the town was gone. While being by the river at the Ranch, we would play in the runes, with our favorite being an old fort some kids must have put together in the early 1900s. I used to love seeing what we could find at the spot. I keep thinking I’m going to run down at visit it again to see if anything is left at the site.
Our next stop was by the old Chaney Ford Bridge. That bridge has since been removed and replaced. It was one of our favorite spots to put into the river, unless we really wanted to spend all day on the river. There is a spot on our property that is now a favorite place for kayakers to use to put in. Many leave trash as they cut across our property, making me feel that they are nothing more than trespassers with no regard for the land.
Our next spot was a bottom field that we have since sold. It was just a short trip if we put in by the Chaney Ford Bridge and took out at our bottom field. (The rock marked with paint was between those spots) While my dad would be working in the field, we also would play at the sandbars that marked the take out spot. I can still remember the shape of the sandbar and how there would frequently be a small section of water that went half way around the bar on the field side. That shallow water was a great place to see fix. Around the sand bar it was frequently shallow enough to allow us to hunt mussels and we always thought we would find a pearl in some. On the far side of the sandbar were rapids that my brother and I loved to walk back and forth across, thinking we were testing fate. At the very end of the rapids was a deep hole that my dad had said was a great fishing spot.
The bottom field spot was where while taking out at one point my dad had told me not to park his truck on the sandbar. I parked it up on the bank… but at the end of the day I drove it down onto the sandbar to get the canoes. To me I had not parked it there, I had just driven it down for the pickup of the canoes. A completely different thing, but it turned out my dad wanted the truck off the sandbar because it would sink in the soft river sandbar. The sinking caused the truck to become stuck and I ended up ripping the 4 wheel drive out of my dad’s truck. The truck required the wheels to be locked in, and somehow I hadn’t done it completely right. I didn’t hear the end of that one for years after.
That take out spot was also the place that my husband had parked a truck with his brother and left it when we took a canoeing trip. I was almost 9 months pregnant with our oldest and knew it was just a short trip – so I wasn’t worried. Cell phones were not a thing yet, our only cell phone was a bag phone that ran off the car. The trip was only a few hours and there were houses in an emergency that we could stop at. Reaching the take out though we found that my husband to be safe hadn’t left the truck keys, and it turned out he hadn’t brought them either. So we reached the take out spot to find that there were no keys and no way to reach anyone. My husband and his brother had to leave me with his sister and walk all the way to my parents to pick up keys.
Our final spot was a place we call Bailey’s Bottom. It’s 50 acres on the river in a very secluded area. While building I debated it as a place to build but there isn’t an easy/cheap way to get power back to it and definitely no way to get a house back to the field. Several spots in the field flood there, and the lane back to the river would have huge ice chunks wash up the lane each year when the river would start to thaw. The take out there was a nice spot that we had used to for cookouts and playing in the river with a tree swing that we would use to swing out and drop in the river. We’ve owned that particular field since the early 70s and can only access it through an Illinois park.
Stories from canoeing include
My aunt riding in a tube after just getting her hair done and flipping the tube.
Taking twinkie breaks upon seeing a rock coming and letting the canoe smash into the rock.
Getting the truck stuck
Forgetting the keys
My dad stopping at a cousins to try to repair the canoes, we kids had cracked on a rock
I would love to be able to go down the river again and relive those experiences, but my youngest is afraid of water. We’ve decided it’s easiest to wait until he is out of school and my husband and I can get kayaks to go down the river. Kayaks will never be the same as the river trips taking coolers and spending the whole day in the river stopping at each sand bank.
One of my favorite places to go and walk through nature is some property we own by the river. There used to be a bridge that my children had named the Dangerous Bridge, it was old with holes working their way though the floor so that you could look down as you drove across and see the river. To get to the bridge from one side, you went down a fairly steep hill, made a sharp turn that went up a steep short hill and then drove across the bridge. One of our memories of that bridge was trying to cross in the winter and not making it up the short steep hill. Somehow I got half turned around on the hill and had to have a neighbor get my van off the hill and drive it across for me. This was when cell phones were the size of bricks, but I did have one and my dad came to watch over what was going on.
Years after that incident, the county decided they needed to replace the bridge. Apparently there is a law/rule that says new bridges have to be able to be crossed at 55 miles per hour in the event of an emergency vehicle needing to cross. The consensus was that the bridge would need to move. The county proceeded to straighten the road and put in a new bridge that linked to where the road made another sharp turn on the other side. To do this they needed to cut through the middle of our field. The road commissioner and my parents made a deal with my parents thinking it was just for Right of Way through the field. My mother then placed a piece on the small side into a set aside program (CRP). This is where we are paid to not plant in that portion of the field.
Recently we noticed that the assessor’s office had changed our field on the small side to be listed as Right of Way. On their site it no longer showed our name for anyone looking up the land. The office claimed it’s still ours, just is marked as right of way for the county. Looking further into it we found that the county had included that land in the road right of way despite not being needed for the road. The official wording states that it will revert to us when it’s no longer needed for the road, which to me was right after the road was finished (or even always since they didn’t use that area).
That area is one of my favorites to walk through the woods. I also love getting in the river there and taking pictures of the sand banks. It’s amazing to me how much the river banks change over time with flooding, high water, and droughts all having substantial effects on the area. The field nearby floods frequently with wet spots and washes out crops. The bank on the CRP program side is all soft river sand when you approach the river. Animal tracks are everywhere.
With the land listed in such an odd way on the PVA site it’s difficult for people to look up our property lines. We frequently have trespassers coming onto our property to put canoes and kayaks in. I’m not sure having our property ownership clearly filled out would fix this, but it would make me feel more comfortable. The people coming onto our property frequently leave trash and destroy things. Most of what they are destroying is vegetation, but the trash is what really bothers me. Additionally, we face liability if anyone gets hurt on our property. I’ve ventured past to find whole families playing in the river coming through our property. When high the river can be especially dangerous, knowing that my own grandfather drown and was a strong swimmer makes me even more afraid for the young children taken to play in the river by unaware parents.
How to get our property back is difficult. Part of the issue with it being listed as Right of Way came about from lawyers not knowing the legal descriptions of the land. Now my parents past lawyer and even the current lawyer my mother was using has passed away leaving us to navigate the property laws on our own as we try to find another lawyer – which also comes down to why we should be faced with the legal costs because of this.
We are currently also facing issues with another property that fell under another issue with the state. The property has been in our hands since the early 70’s. When my parents first purchased it, they had a friendly agreement with the park – not to mention that the road through the woods on park ground had always been used to access the property. My father maintained the road and farmed some park property for the local state park to use to feed their animals. Now with my father gone and a new park manager, the park has decided to close off our access. We had discussions with the park and finally worked out that we can access our property for now. They are asking us to lease the road from them after they work out a lease. As things currently stand the agreement is in limbo and we are waiting for more information from them. This all came about when the park paid to repave the road back to some of their property and wanted to close off the road completely.
Looking at headstones recently I came across a headstone for Ethel Richter Dodge. I had assumed originally I was looking through my files for Ethel Richter (not my Aunt Ethel but another Ethel Richter), who had married into the Dodge family. We unfortunately lost my Aunt Ethel last year, so asking her wasn’t possible. I did find out she was named for a family friend and distant relative Ethel Oakwood as I was working on searching for the family link.
In the past as I’ve looked through the cemetery – and even looking through my own notes, I’m always surprised at the number of names that are reused. My grandmother Theresa Moretto was even named after her sister that passed away a few years before she was born. Her sister was said to have been named after an aunt that great grandmother didn’t want to forget. Reusing names was a way to honor the family member. My grandmother’s sister had come to the US with my great grandparents when they immigrated from Italy and passed away shortly after arriving in the US.
There is also a grave for a Janie Richter that was a sister to my grandfather. The story goes that she was kicked in the head by a horse and passed away very young. That name was also reused. An unusual name was Cleta. My aunt Cleta Fern Richter passed away at barely a year old from pneumonia, but also in the family as a Cleta Henning – My grandmother’s niece.
I had already thought about naming any daughter after one of my aunts. We ended up with all boys and I left it to my husband to choose the names. For each name we discussed the good and bad qualities for each friend, family, and sometimes others that we knew with the same name. None of the boys did end up named after anyone we knew, but we definitely discussed everyone we knew with each name before settling on a name. I always hope my kids are happy with the name they ended with.
I remember growing up trying to change my name a few times. I even successfully changed it once for a few weeks. I always liked my middle name more than my first name, and in kindergarten had come up with the idea to write a note saying my parents had changed my name to my middle name. – As an important note to remember it was in a kindergarteners handwriting, but I did get my mother to sign it. I should also mention a cousin’s husband was the principal, another cousin’s wife was the 1st grade teaching assistant and the janitor was a cousin too.
All that being said, they took my note and changed everything. My mother didn’t find out what happened until parent teacher conferences. – She did make them change everything back. Of course this was the same teacher that kept confusing my best friend and I (the fact that we randomly kept swapping name tags didn’t help), and had ended up accidently sending me for my friends kindergarten immunizations, while she got to skip ( I had already had mine, so I ended up with twice the dose and she got none)…. I often wondered if that was why that teacher quit the next year?
Names can be important, in researching your family, multiple family members with the same names makes following my family line takes some effort and knowing family stories as much as possible.
Having friends over for a holiday, we went down and played in the creek – and wandered through the woods. It quickly brought back memories of all the times we would go into the woods and play in the creek near the house – and even better the times we would play in the river.
The creek by our house isn’t a spot we went down to often, but across the road under my mother’s house is the deep spot that we would head to play when we got a chance. I remember seeing tadpoles and more in the spot there, and the day that we found someone’s textbooks from the high school that had been dumped in the woods by the stream. Walking across the logs and the rocks in the stream was a great way to stay cool and something to do.
Any more I hear a lot of complaints about nothing to do around here, but all the things we did as kids are still here. The streams to play in, the river to canoe and fish, 4 wheelers to ride, sleds to play on, river to splash in, biking, and so much more! The electronics the kids currently play with can be played with anywhere – so it’s hard to imagine that’s a drawback. There aren’t as many clubs and fancy restaurants to go out to, but as families with young kids (or even families in general) we are totally fine with what is available in the area.
In our area when we really want to visit a large museum or go out to an event, we have our choice of Chicago, Indianapolis or St. Louis within a few hours drive. Champaign Urbana also gets several big names at the assembly hall and the University of Illinois has everything from sports to academics that are available. It’s not the night life of New York City, but personally I don’t need that. I love the family get togethers where everyone sits and talks about the past, shares great food, and the kids run around throughout the group playing. Walking through the woods, playing in the rivers and streams, and watching the wildlife – though I can live without the snakes, spiders, and ticks.
As kids playing in the white water in the river, playing on a sand bank, canoeing down the river, even playing in the old ruins of Conkeytown foundations and treehouses were things that could keep us occupied all day. Other days were spent walking beans and working in the fields trying to help our parents, playing in grain bins, and even riding our bikes up and down the road. Our family had both ponds (great for skating and swimming) and a pool that we used to keep cool during the time we weren’t working. After harvest, my dad would convert the fields into tracks for us to race around as well as making a golf course out of our yard.
It seemed family was always dropping in! I remember playing crochet in the yard being one of my dad’s favorites. He would pull grass up in a line all the way to the wicket to make it easier to hit in. We also were taught how to play Euchre which was a popular evening card game. It seems New Year’s Eve was always Monopoly night though. – I also loved to read, and always had a book (Nancy Drew being my favorite!). It seems we never ran out of things to do. All the things that we did are still around, so it’s hard to imagine how there isn’t anything to do now? I’m starting to think it’s just something to say.
I still keep finding bricks as we walk around. They seem to be everywhere – with the latest showing up in the field where we have been riding 4 -wheelers around. Following the example of my parents, we have turned the field next to the house into a race track during the season that the field isn’t planted. While riding around the brick showed up! I’ve been digging up bricks all over our yard, reclaiming them from the previous house that was on the site. The brick out in the field is part of the house that was buried here. Really there were a few buildings buried as well as a few wells.
I’m not sure about these bricks but I remember the story that the house I grew up in was made from bricks and blocks that were created in the woods near the house. Bricks are made from something like clay that is molded and then dried – and finally fired (in a kiln). The bricks I’m finding were buried here as each building was torn down.
Currently, I’m reclaiming the bricks and using them for projects on our new home. My first project was a walkway from the driveway up to the side of the house. As I see bricks buried around the yard (and nearby), I dig down and pull them out, making them into a pile. I’m loving recycling and it ties us to the past!
I remember growing up trying to change my name a few times. I even successfully changed it once for a few weeks. I always liked my middle name more than my first name, and in kindergarten had come up with the idea to write a note saying my parents had changed my name to my middle name. – As an important note to remember it was in a kindergarteners handwriting, but I did get my mother to sign it. I should also mention a cousin’s husband was the principal, another cousin’s wife was the 1st grade teaching assistant and the janitor was a cousin too. 
