It i sad how Family story telling is dying!!! (long post)

I can remember visiting my Grand parents every Sunday. We went to Mom's parents after church and eat a late "lunch" and "visited" with them. Then we went home and did the necessary chores and then went to My Dad's parents for supper and "visited" with them.

My Grand Fathers on both sides where skilled story tellers. That was how the history of the family and neighbors was passed along. The fact that people rarely have time to just "visit" anymore coupled with how technology is isolating us from intimate daily contact. These things have just about made the art of story telling be a lost art.

So here is a good one about my Maternal Grand Father. To make you have a full picture you need to have a little history of my Grand Father. He was the most honest man I ever meet. Even to Uncle Sam on taxes. After he semi-retired he would work on small engines and lawn mowers for people. He kept track of every single dime he made and paid income tax and Social Security on the little amount of income he made doing the repairs. He might charge $2 to sharpen a lawn mower blade and get two one dollar bills. He would enter them in his ledger every night.


This story is about when he would have been about 9 or 10 years old. He had an second cousin that was just two years older than him. They where life long friends. It was in the fall of the year when pumpkins where ripe but the corn had not been shocked yet. The two cousins decided to sneak into a neighbor's field and swipe a couple of pumpkins. They waited until it was just dark and went to go get themselves some pumpkins. Like all little boys of that age they where talking a mile a minute to each other. Their chatter alerted the field owners (two older bachelors) that they where going to swipe some pumpkins. The old guys figured out who they where from their voices. The two old guys had a sense of humor too. So one of them went out into the gravel road and picked up two big hand fulls of rocks. The other went and got his shot gun. The old guys waited until the cousins got out into the corn field. Then the one fired the shot gun into the air. The other threw the rocks out into the corn field. To my Grand father and his cousin it sounded like they where being shot at. So they took off running as hard as they could back toward home. That was all and good until they hit the five strand barb wire fence at the end of the corn field. They had forgotten about that in their rush to get away. The older cousin did not get scratched up too bad. My Grand Father did not fair as well. He got through the fence but left most of his "new" overalls on the fence with a lot of skin from his legs. When he got back home all he had left of his pants was the straps and the waist band. LOL He had ran clear out of the rest of them.

So here he was with his "new" overalls all torn up and his legs all scratched up. He sure could not tell his Mother he had done all of this while trying to steal a pumpkin. So he had to treat his own cuts and hide the fact he had ruined a new pair of overalls.

Then to make it even better the old bachelors came into the Black Smith shop the very next day. (My Maternal family had a black smith/repair business) The old guys set down in the gossip corner and called my grand father over to set with them. He could not refuse. When he got there they told him a story of how they had ran some thieves out of their corn field the night before. Plus the one brother would slap Grand Dad's leg while telling him the story. Remember his legs where cut up pretty bad. So they had to be real sore. Grand Dad was in a real pickle because he knew that they knew what he had done. If they told his parents he would be in "real" trouble. So can you see this young boy sweating this out. It would have been pretty funny to watch.

So the old guys tormented my Grand Dad for a while. Then when they left they told him to come out to the pickup truck with them. He figure he was dead meat. LOL The older of the two brothers gave him two pumpkins an told him if he ever wanted any pumpkins all he had to do was ask for them and to not ever try to steal them again. Then the younger of the two brothers told him he had left something behind when he ran home. The younger of the two bachelors gave him a new pair of overalls to replace the ones he had ruined.

When Grand Dad grew up and started working in the black smith/repair shop, anything those two old men needed worked on was done for FREE. Also the two old guys brought him a few pumpkins each fall every year. They would all set down and have a good laugh about his "education" on becoming a better man.

Now how this ties into "ME". I remember that story every time I drive past that corn field/farm where this happened. My Grand Dad was born in 1898. So this happened a HUNDRED years ago. I know about it because of hearing my Grand Dad tell this story. So that snap shot of their everyday lives became a memorable thing to me because of his story telling skill.

I wonder if my kids will remember this story? I have told them about it and shown them the field and farm where it took place. If they do it will live on for another generation. If not it will just fade with the passing of time.

I am not sure my Grand Kids will remember it. I would bet they will not. We never have the "visiting" time like we used to have. Everyones lives are busier today than they where then. Are we really better off???

So you guys tell some of your families stories!!!

My Grandpa used to tell a story about two neighbors during the depression. They were also good friends. The first neighbor was one handed and had a since of humor. He drove his cattle past the second neighbor"s house one day. The next weekend both neighbors were at an auction sale and it was wet and muddy. The one handed man had bought several baked item from the church ladies at the food table and had them tucked under his arm. Whereupon the second neighbor strode up to him, knocked all of his bread and cakes out of his arm and stomped them into the mud. The people at sale were appalled until neighbor two exclaimed "you rotten so and so, I"ll teach you not to put cow patties in my mailbox!"

My Dad told the story that when they lived in Iowa, him and his cousin decided to raid the neighbor's watermelon patch one night. They got to the patch and Dad picked the biggest on that he thought he could carry. It was kind of slippery so he unbottoned the side of his bib overalls and slid the watermelon inside his overalls to carry it.

About then a shotgun went off so they took off running. All went well until Dad tripped and fell down forward. That juicy watermelon made a real mess in his overalls. It was the last time they tried to steal any watermelons.

Cute story, sometimes kids will get into mischief.
The best story I have is a bit sentimental. In the winter of 1908/1909 my mother's family left Germany to come to America. Don't know where he got his information, but Grandpa said there was going to be a big war, & when it was over, he would be on the winning side. They arrived in New York Harbor in March, 09. The morning they arrived there was an awful commotion on the ship at dawn. Seems the captain pulled up short during the night. When the rising sun lit up the top of Lady Liberty and the base was still in the shadows, he laid long & hard on the boat whistle. All the passengers ran on deck in their night clothes to see the sight, they had made it. Sure enough, the war started in 14, when it ended in 1917 or 18 they were high & dry near Cedar Rapids, Ia.
Fast forward to Sep, 1987. I was driving a bus tour out of Minneapolis to the east coast. While overnighting in NYC I got a call from my boss. Mom had died that day. He offered to fly a relief driver to take over the tour so I could fly to California to be with family. I made a few calls, services would be set for the next Sunday, tour scheduled to end on Thursday, so I could complete it. Called him back, just get me a plane ticket to fly west on Friday.
Part of the tour the next day included taking the tour group out to Liberty & Ellis Islands. Obviously I was a bit misty-eyed, but otherwise ok. Boss had called my group leader to give her a "heads up" & keep an eye on me. We worked many tours together over the years, always worked well.
After the funeral, Mom's cremated remains were flown over the ocean & scattered. She left the Old Country at age 3, returned to the earth just a few weeks short of 82, more than half way around the world.
I researched through the Morman website, have name & picture of the ship they came on, along with the passenger list & details of the trip.
Willie

i was around 12yrs old stole a couple watermellons off my grandparents neighbor who raised and sold them.next day he came over took us acroos to his house set us down and made us eat watermellon untill we were about to puke them back up.lessoned learn there.
RICK

I have been blessed with having all my grandparents until I was nearly 30. This recollection is of my grandpa's brother Russell. Russell was born in 1891 and grandpa (Grover) was born in 1892. These were two brothers who resembled each other tremendously. They were known to be pretty rough too as each was about 6'1'' and 200 pounds .Coal miners, farmers, wheat shockers, firemen on the railroad, lumbermen, they had done it all. Russell was the mean one.

My dad has told this story to my boys and myself. There was a small town that had a tavern. At this time it was a place to drink, along with tables for families to eat and it had a boxing area. Yes, an area roped off for guys to spar and play around.

My mom (soon to be) and my dad were eating lunch with my great uncle Russell before going back into the field to do some plowing. A local bully was loitering around and asked Russell if he wanted to box.

"Naw I've got to get back to the field."
"Come on ,let's do this."
"Busy."

As dad told has told us this went on with this fellow agging Russell.

"OK but let's take it easy."

They put on the gloves and tagged each other a few times when the bully took off his glove and popped Russell in the mouth.

"So that's how you want to do it."

In my dad's words , Russell dropped his gloves and went to work on him leaving him in a pile in the corner.

"Let's get back and finish the chores."

I'll always have a spot in my heart for Grover and Russell as they were a big part of my growing up.

Ken

Mom kept a daily journal. After she passed away, copies were made for all the siblings

Television.
No time for stories now.

My mother and her three sisters decided to write a book about their lives. Started with their parent"s courtship and marriage around 1913 and went through the depression, WWII, and raising their own children. It helped that they found my Grandmother"s diary after she died (although my Aunt wanted to censure some parts - she thought her parents "spent too much time on the couch" before they were married). Everyone in the family was asked to contribute an anecdote or two. They printed copies and handed them out to all the cousins. Really worthwhile project for every generation.

Lol and now we have zero tolerance for hoodlums like those! I remember grendpa telling how his brother and him went down to the neighbors house to ask if they could have one of his watermelons. The neighbor told them they could have as many as they wanted. Excited they ran outinto the patch only to find out the neighbor had picked them all yesterday. So they decided to get even and they picked all his pumpkins and put them on the railroad tracks. I don't know if they train ever hit them or not.

I had an uncle who moved to the USA from Switzerland when he was 16. As skunks are indigenous to the Americas, he had never seen one before. His first job was as a farm hand. One Saturday morning he was taking the milk to the cheese factory and saw one on the school yard. It was still there when he came back, and thought it was an angora cat. So he went up to it and picked it up. then he went back to the farmer, and the farmer and his wife are laughing at him. And he is panicking, saying " don't laugh, call the doctor!!!". Then they explained to him that it wasn't fatal, it just smelled that way.

My grandmother on my dads side used to tell some good stories of the past, I only have one aunt left,she is my moms twin sister, Just one aunt,no parents or other aunts or uncles. She is in a nursing home,we will be going to see her today. She is in the nursing home and in the same building is an old farmer named Ben who I posted about here on the site. Another person here on the site mailed him a stack of red power magazines . Everytime I go visit my aunt I see Ben and he tells me stories about his farm and his farmall tractors ,You and all the kind people on this site got me thinking that this morning I think I will give him my eyrtl toy model H tractor,Its on a shelf in the basement,Im gonna put it in the truck now so I dont forget it.

I dont know if I ever said it,but you have some really good values which should be praised., in this day and age it is good to see someone take a stand. I would like to commend you. Besides tv dont forget constant phone texting all day long!

I always loved sitting on the floor listening to Old folks telling stories. My grand father on my fathers side was mean. His idea of funny was luring one of us kids close enough so that he could whack them with his walking stick. Only story I remember him telling and it was hard to understand because he laughed so much telling it.
Two brothers one night cut off a tidal creek ( put a net across at high tide and wait for the tide to go out and take a cast net and catch the fish, usually at night). They had a number nips while waiting for the tide to go out. This night they had a porpoise trapped in the shallows. Without a plan they tied a rope on the porpoise and the to the boat. They took there net down and went up the creek to catch fish. Now the tide is coming back up and when they get back to the boat it's sliding off the bank and they both jumped in the boat as it takes off down the river headed for the ocean and the only thing they could find to get them free was a very dull hatchet.
Me, My brothers, cousins and friends had lots of adventures growing up and still today I have tried to tell a few but nobody seems to care so I Don't tell them much anymore. Not to be a Hero comedian I just want stimulate other folks to write their stories.
Ron

Grandma , Grandpa , and their fox terrier headed to town for some supplies ahead of an impending winter storm. It was starting to rain as they reached town. Grandpa pulled up to a stop sign on a slight downhill grade. While waiting there, another driver slid into his rear bumper. Grandpa did not think it was slick yet and became angered at the careless driver. He hastily jumped out of his '50s Ford stepside, slipped on the ice and landed flat on his back. The terrier then jumped out of the truck onto Grandpas' chest. Grandpa then realized the reason for the accident. He gathered himself and the dog, climbed back into the truck and continued on his way - without exchanging a word to the driver behind him !

My maternal grandfather passed away when I was twelve, so I have a hard time remembering many of his stories. One that sticks however, when he was in grade school they had ink wells on the desks, the girl who sat in front on him would tease him so grandpa took her pony tail one day and dipped it in his ink well.....fast forward 70 years, my younger was on the school bus and the little girl in front of him was giving him fits, so he took his safety sicssors and gave her a haircut.

Back in the 50's some of the farm boys would drive the rural bus routes, Grandpa drove his junior and senior years I believe, Grandma was on his bus route and gave him a lot trouble on the bus. He asked the principal how to handle her, the principal told him to kick her off the bus. About half way home that night grandma got kicked off the bus. Grandma never gave him anymore trouble, on the bus at least.

From my surrogate grandparents who I farmed with; Grandpa was on the mezzanine of the gym his sophomore year in high school, he saw a girl below on the gym and knew right then and there he would marry her. Grandma was a farm girl, and grandpa grew up in town, so that day in the high school in town was the first time they met. It took him 10 years and a trip to Korea to convince her that he was worthy of her hand. I think about the only one I ever met as stubborn as Grandpa was Grandma.

From a friends grandma, her mom and dad worked off the farm, in the summer when the folks were gone she and her friends would pile on the Ferguson and take it 4 miles to the river to fish. All worked out well until one day she blew a tire on the Ferguson, that was the end of their tractor rides to the river.

My grandfather was born in 1915 and grew up in rural West Virginia. He had a beautiful bass voice and loved to sing hymns, although he was never much for going to church. After he passed, a family friend told me about growing up with him. It was about a 2 mile walk home from the two room schoolhouse. There were about 3 or 4 boys, including my grandfather, that would walk home in the same general direction, getting into whatever mischief that young teen boys could find. But before they all split up to go to their respective farms, they would always sing a few hymns together.
I can picture my grandfather, standing at a dirt crossroads in rural WV, singing The Old Rugged Cross with other young farmboys, just as plain as if I were there.

I think the biggest problem with kids not knowing the stories from thier elders today is that families are not staying in one place. With mine (50's 60's and 70's) 3 of my grand parents were gone by the time I was 2. But we didn't go "home" when dad took leave. We stayed where ever we would and dad sold his leave back to the Army most of the time. Now a guy cna only sell leave back once in a career, back then they could do it every time they reuped. So we stayed where we were. I got to spend time with my one remaining grandpa for about a year when I was 16. Today I have 2 grandkids about 6 hours north west of me. With us having livestock and thier secduals we don't see much of them. Another set of grandkids are a bit further in IA. Again don't get to spend much time with them. I know people here with thier kids spread out all across the US and some overseas. When family were all in one area and got together every week on Sunday yea the kids learned the storie. I think the only way to do that today is to write it down so that when the kids are old enough they can read it.

Rick

Not too long ago someone posted here that he had had surgery and could not walk for a few days and was going crazy. He asked what to do to fill the time.

I suggested writing down family history, laying out his will, and a few other mental items.

All the other replies were "clean out the garage, watch videos, read books, clean out your computer hard drive.

That is how we lose our family history. I made it a point to sit and talk with all my aging relatives before they passed away and to jot down many of the notes from those talks.

Nothing like family history to get you thinking. I heard a lot of family stories growing up, and I think my cousins and my brother and I made a few more from some of our escapades. I have researched both sides of my family and both sides of my wifes back quite ways, but I'm afraid it will die with me. None of my kids seem to have any interest in it. Maybe when they get older, at least I have it here for them if they want to find it.