Kentucky is having a lot of snow right now. It made me a little nervous to venture out, knowing I don’t have my dad to come rescue me if I venture into a snow drift! Growing up, dad was the person everyone called to pull them out of the snow drifts as they went off the road. He would get into his khaki work coveralls and work boots and get onto his tractor and head down the road to rescue them.
In Illinois the snow would blow across the roads and pile up in huge snow piles on the side of the road, and even create big snow drifts across the road. My parents always kept snow mobiles for us to ride. We usually had Snow Cats, but my dad’s was an El Tigre that had been a racing snow mobile. It could really fly across the snow. My dad would make sure each year that the river had really frozen solid and then we would take long trips down the river also. I also remember a few wrecks, but most memories were of us bundled up in snow suits with every exposed part of our body covered and helmuts mashed down over our heads so that we could go ride. My brother and I would go inside long enough to warm up and then head right back out again.
My dad would also take his tractor and plow the driveways and roads around us. Not so much so that the vehicles could get anywhere, but so that we would have a big pile of snow to play in. My brother and I would then make a snow fort in the snow piles, complete with tunnels to slide through. They would end up solid enough the snow mobiles could zoom over them. Usually that would be a lot of fun, but I do remember the accident involving Brian, a snow mobile, and a swing set…. The piles were always so high you couldn’t see anything on the other side.
Our power would then go out for extended periods at a time. My parents finally hooked up a wood burning furnace that was hooked into all the vent work for the house. The house also had a fireplace in the living room and a wood burning stove in the kitchen. My mother would usually have something on the wood burning stove – deer jerky drying, maple syrup cooking down to remove the water, or some other unusual thing. Every so often she would even have a flock of chicks under a heat lamp in the kitchen – but I don’t necessarily tie that memory to the snow.
During the big snow storms, friends and relatives would still drop by – just on snow mobiles. They would pull into the drive, and we would run out all bundled up and hop on ours and join the caravan for the day.
Over the years, I remember taking canoe trips many times each summer. Many were family trips and some were just our family. Usually a whole group would go! Sometimes aunts and friends would ride in inter-tubes, some would take canoes, and the kids would get their own canoe.
We would get a chance to stop a few times throughout the trip and play on sandbars and usually had a collection of mussels to play with by the time we got done. I remember most though going on a trip with friends. We had decided to take a twinkie break every time we saw a rock. Someone would scream twinkie break and we would all stop and eat twinkies while our boat slammed into the twinkie. At one point our red canoe hit a rock hard enough to put a hole in the side. We had to stop at my cousin buddy’s house to try to patch the canoe….. For years after we would point the rock out, still marked with red paint from our canoe.
Years later I took friends while in college and remember my dad telling me ‘ don’t park that truck on the riverbank in the sand. He neglected to say don’t drive it down onto the sand. Needless to say I tore the 4 wheel drive out of the truck. Another time I was 8-9 months pregnant with my first and my husband and I decided to take his family canoeing. Keith parked the truck at the take out point and then took the keys back to my mothers and put them away. After canoeing we arrived and the truck to find we couldn’t get out. Keith and his brother George had to walk all the way back to my mothers and get keys and a vehicle…
My parents owned several spots on the river (still do)… We had spots we viewed as short trips, long trips, and medium, and my parents could tell you how long every put in and take out point would take and they could recognize every spot that you could find help along the way if something came up. The longest distance put in point is at the Ranch. A farm that my parents own with my dad’s first cousin Don. It was the location of a town known as Konky Town long ago. We would then go along the river to the place my kids called the dangerous bridge, the old bridge is gone now and has been replaced but there is still a spot to put in canoes. Going further was the bottom field, my parents have sold that field but they still are friendly with the owner and he would allow us to put in and take out there. (That’s the spot I tore out the 4 wheel drive and the spot that we were stuck with no keys!) Going further, if you want an all day trip, is Bailey’s Bottom. I am sure there are other spots that you can put a canoe in and take out canoes, but all these spots have tons of memories for me! Everything from swinging over the river on a rope to trying to find mussel shells in the river while our parents packed up the boats.
My kids haven’t been on a canoe trip in years (never for the little one). I keep thinking one day we’ll go again. Maybe a big family canoe trip, family reunion style!
Our family (Richter side) has always had one type of get together or another. It has moved around through the years and I’d swear it’s even changed reasons. I remember getting together at my Uncle Frank’s (and Aunt Tootie)! My memories mainly consist of us kids playing with the heads from snapping turtles – yes they keep biting for a LONG time after you cut them off. I’m amazed none of us broke or lost a finger. Somehow we always managed to just use a stick to stick in the turtles mouth. I also remember using pillows to slide down the stairs to the basement. I can see in my mind the layout of the stairs – the top of the stairs, the landing at the bottom and the turn into the basement. We would take all the cushions we could find and pile them up and then ride them down the stairs. I think that was probably one of the only places in the house I ever went since that’s the only place I remember. Outside I just remember that walkway going to the house where we would get the turtle heads to play with.
Later we moved on to hanging out at my Cousin Buddy’s house. He’s the same age as my dad, but dad’s nephew. My cousins Kristi, Kevin and Kirk first lived in a house that had bushes out by the road a good distance from their house. I don’t remember that house, but I remember playing out in the bushes by the road. They moved shortly over by the river by Singing Bridge and were building a house but 4th of July kept up. (Kristi’s Birthday) Each year the adults would all drink and the kids would run around with small fireworks and try not to hurt each other. At some point someone had come up with the bright idea to have a contest to see who could build the best cannon. My cousins built some little cannons and my dad decided to trump them all and built a huge cannon. It then had to be hauled over each year to be shot. Watching people try to light it after they had been drinking always amazed me that there was never a trip to the ER. As kids we would run around trying to find things that could be shot out of the cannon. My dad would prime it with gunpowder mixed with flour (about 8 oz) and then tamp paper in on top of that. Then anything we found would be added. I remember sand being a choice one year and even a frog at one point. The sand did put little wholes in all the trees.
For the winters, Thanksgiving and Christmas, my Aunt Margaret would host a family party in her basement. Her basement included a pool table, fireplace, card table, dress up area for the kids, living room area, kitchen, and a bar – So this was not a hardship. Every holiday she would make a punch with oranges and other fruit in alcohol (Southern Comfort maybe). If I remember right it’s the first place and the only place I’ve had a grasshopper. Sooner or later everyone would show up with a dish to share and we would get to see all our family. I have pictures in my album from every year in that basement. Everything from high school on up to my oldest kids. Those parties continued all the way until we lost my Aunt Margaret. I miss those parties and I miss her too!
Now we are left with my cousin Don that has a party each August. It’s kind of a Richter Family Picnic – I think that’s what they actually call it. They get a bounce house for the kids and have tents set up so that it’s not too hot. Everyone that can tries to come. It’s always after my kids have started school and it’s on a Sunday so it’s tough for the kids to come with, but I try to make it for at least an hour myself every year. – 12 hours of driving, 1 hour to see family… What’s funny is, it’s really worth it! One year I went with a horrible kidney infection. I drove home debating stopping at every urgent care we came close to passing… but I didn’t regret seeing my family!
Yes we have added one more member to our family! A girl this time. Actually she’s an exchange student, but for this year we are a mixed family. 3 boys and a girl!
We are learning a lot this year, besides the experience of spending about 3 hours a day driving the kids one place or another in the car each day. As crazy as this year has been and will be – I wouldn’t trade it. I do have to wonder what Konnor thinks of the situation – one day we just suddenly added another teenager. I’m not sure what he will think also when she goes home.
Having an extra family member has definitely inspired us to do more fun things as a family this year. Last weekend we ventured out to Jackson’s Orchard to try out the pumpkin patch and corn maze! It brought back memories of my cousin Don’s pumpkins (though these were super small in comparison!) and his apples. Konnor is hoping to ask dad to make him a corn maze. I don’t think it will happen anytime soon (dad’s not really up to it anymore), but it does make me think I should talk to mom about if they have a patch of unused field that might work for next year. Apparently Kentucky has a law protecting farms from being sued if they are engaged in agritourism – I really need to check if that’s true in Illinois too! They are just now combining by the house at home so the timing could be perfect.
While at the orchard we got to take a hay wagon out to the patch. I think my last hayride was in grade school with the cub scouts and the Flessners. At least that’s the last one I really remember. I DO remember though helping drive the tractor by the house while dad and company through hay onto the wagon. I also remember being banned from participating after accidentally running over dad’s foot with the wagon and stopping the wagon ON his foot when he hollered at me to stop. – My allergies were so bad that I was always delegated a task that involved me being in air conditioning (yep, they make International Harvester Tractors with cabs that are air conditioned and my dad had a big one!)
I really wish my kids would get a chance to know a little more about farming.
Kevin’s First Pumpkin
Konnor at the Pumpkin Patch – Jackson’s Orchard
At the Pumpkin Patch
Growing up on a farm for Halloween is completely different though. There isn’t trick or treating quite the way there is in a neighborhood. Normally parents drive kids around to friends and family to show off costumes and collect some candy. My parents probably won’t even bother to buy candy this year. When we were kids I do remember my mother driving us in to trick or treat with the Peak family in Oakwood once or twice. I don’t remember the trick or treating itself as much as just that we did it at least once.
Living in a neighborhood the kids will probably get enough candy this year to go into a sugar coma if they eat it all. Would I change it? No, not really – all in all I’m glad my kids get the chance to have both worlds. It would be nice if they were a little more ‘farm savvy’ but it’s great that they have a chance to experience some of both parts of life.
I was recently reminded of when my grandpa Richter passed away. I wasn’t very old, without looking it up, I’d say maybe 2nd grade or so. I do remember other things from when we would visit him, but the day we lost him is not one. I have heard stories though and from memory I wanted to put them in writing. I’m hoping everyone will correct me so that I can get the ‘story right’ in all my family history files.
My grandfather had a live in housekeeper that was taking care of him at the time and grandpa Richter had been outside. As he entered the house through the back porch door he had fallen half in the house, half out. When the housekeeper found him she called my father (We had moved to the old Abraham Illk house that was 1/2 mile down the road) and my dad came with all of us and checked my grandfather. From what I remember my grandfather had died of a stroke or a heart attack. Now with my father having so many issues with strokes, Aunt Margaret and Uncle Frank had aneurysms I think, and even Buddy had a heart attack – I’m wondering if there is more family history I haven’t documented.
The main things I still remember about my grandpa were him giving me the crust from his pot pies – he would sit at the table in the kitchen and give me the crust. I also remember him keeping Little Debbie Oatmeal Cream Pies in the Living Room and giving me one when I would visit. Both these and Concord grapes (there was a grape vine in the front yard) remind me still of going to grandpa Richters and exploring.
I also have a memory of the family party where my father spanked me before the party and said he knew I was going to do something to deserve it later so he figured he’d get it out of the way ahead of time… We had just pulled in and parked in the driveway.
Grandpa also had a pond that Aunt Linda now lives at. There was a place to cook out and an outhouse and lots of places to explore. My memories of family parties there are missing from before grandpa passed away, but I’m sure they happened. I do remember though the parties at Aunt Tooties. We would make a slide out of her stairs with couch cushions and ride down the stairs and then go outside to play with turtle heads the cousins had caught. Snapping Turtles keep biting long after the heads are detached and for kids playing in the country the heads plus a stick could keep us amused for quite a while.
The outhouse is all gone now, and all the family parties have moved locations several times since then. I can’t even picture my kids playing with a snapping turtle head or running around the woods unsupervised. My kids have had their moments of going up and helping grandma clear woods and feeding chickens, but it’s not a normal occurrence. Their outdoor time is more riding bikes and taking walks around the blocks.
I visited my parents last weekend to help take my mother to the Dr. (Okay so delay in posting, it’s now been a little bit) . Can you really go home?
My brother now lives in our old house. It’s amazing how small the rooms have gotten. It really can’t be me. New people live in my grandfathers house, even my dad now cash rents his land out to someone else to farm.
I love seeing all my family but all my cousins, aunts and uncles are all busy. As time goes one it’s hard for us all to get together for family gatherings. Also the places to go have even changed! The truck stop was gone! I drove in pick up food and it literally a pile of rubble. There was a new place across the road that had the option to pick up food so I did get dinner.
I remember when the big meeting spot in town was the basement of the new bank. My wedding shower was there! My aunt would have meeting for Watkins and everyone would get together. Now I don’t know if they still have dinners there, but I’m fairly certain it’s been at least 15 years since I’ve been to anything there.
As I walked into the local ‘new’ restaurant to pick up dinner and looked around I didn’t recognize anyone. More than likely i knew someone, the town is only a few hundred and my family has been there about as long as the town, but I didn’t recognize a single person. Same town I went to high school at, my dad did, and all of the rest of his family! So it brought me back to can I really go back home. How is it possible I didn’t recognize anyone? Were they all new people to town? Had they changed that much? Scarier even; is my memory that bad?
