Showing posts with label Clarksville. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Clarksville. Show all posts

Tuesday, September 20, 2011

Off-kilter quilter podcast and Fancy Nancy

Frances of the Off-Kilter Quilter, has both a blog and a podcast. I recently listened to a podcast in which she interviewed her mother, and realized they were talking in my dialect! I'd always considered it to be just an accent, until I started using some of the words that Frances' podcast connected to in my memory.
Do you know the meaning of these words:
  • persnickety
  • discombobulate
  • reckon
  • hafta
  • turn the TV over
Everyday words in my youth.  And the g and the end of words like going, working, etc. is a silent g. Turns out our dialect even has a name: "South Midland."
Anyway, Frances has a good piece of this dialect, and her mother is actually living in Louisville. She even knew the best place in the world to buy sewing notions, at least it was till it closed. A. Baer ran the store, which was called Baer's Buttons. Get it? "A. Baer's Buttons" Hahahahaha - love it. They had every button imaginable. Loved that store, sadly now gone.
Frances sews and quilts. One recent picture on her blog included her design wall and a mannequin. Her mannequin is named Betty, and was dressed very cute, so I thought I'd post a picture of my dressmaker's dummy, Fancy Nancy. She gets all the clothing DD leaves behind.
So I reckon youall are purty well discombobulated by this blog post by now. Knowing that you're persnickety about what you read, and because I hafta turn the TV over to the ZDF channel, I better scoot. Here's Fancy Nancy's portrait. Yes, she's wearing not only my daughter's old clothes, but also a feather duster and embroidery and quilt hoops.

Thursday, December 30, 2010

Thanks, Grandma, This One's for You

Gertrude Alice Borders had a hard life, but made the best of it. Her mother died when she was born, and her father's hands were so crippled, he couldn't comb her very curly hair, so he kept it cut so short, one could hardly tell she was a girl. Her older brother was the light of her life, but he died in the great flu epidemic of 1918, when Gertrude was just 9 years old.
She met and married Charlie Cole, who brought stability and humor to her life. At the birth of their first child, Virginia Lee, (at home of course - there was no question of going to a hospital for an iceman's family), the mother-in-law came over from next door to help. Gertrude and Charlie lived in a tar-paper wooden frame house, next to Charlie's parents. Astonishingly, right after the birth, everyone went back to the in-laws' house for a drink (of tea, they were teetotalers). Gertrude had to get up that evening and cook dinner.
Mary Joyce followed Virginia Lee by a couple of years, and Charlie's brother had two boys of his own. When Mary Joyce was about 2 1/2 years old, the 1937 Flood invaded Louisville, Kentucky, as well as Clarksville, Indiana, where the Coles lived. They lost everything, and their house was torn off its foundation and flipped 3 times over, finally landing a quarter mile down the street. The Red Cross, contrary to its work today, came to this impoverished neighborhood, but only to SELL the desperately needed basics of life.
After rebuilding and making most of their own furniture, life stabilized. Charlie's brother's wife died, and Gertrude found herself taking care of Willie's boys, David Rae and Norman Lee. Charlie settled into a janitor's job at the local schools, and the girls grew up.
Both girls' first marriages failed in the 1950s, both because of domestic abuse. Both girls moved back home, Virginia living with her grandparents next door, and pregnant Joyce lived in the "little bedroom"
with her son Cole, already 2 years old. The little bedroom was just large enough for a single bed.
Life went on for a few decades, and Gertrude and Charlie finally retired. The janitor's pension helped until Charlie died in 1987, and Gertrude lived on Social Security for the rest of her life.
In 1997, almost 60 years to the day of the 1937 Flood, another flood came through and destroyed her house again. Not in the same way, because a floodwall had been built that protected the area in 1997. However, poor city planning had put a large parking lot behind Gertrude's house, and runoff from the rain destroyed her basement. She lost everything again.
Gertrude made quilts throughout her life, because blankets and comforters were not in the budget. Crazy quilts and simple quilts were the main designs, but the last quilt Gertrude made was a double wedding ring for her eldest granddaughter, Mary Alice. Quilts not lost in floods were worn out, eventually being thrown away. Gertrude died in 1999.
Grandma, I quilt today because of the example you set. This flower garden quilt is for you, because you gave me hope and persistence when I had none. Each of these hand-stitched seams have your memory stitched in.
Thank you, and I love you and miss you still.

Wednesday, August 15, 2007

Visiting some old friends





Relatives long since gone...

A puzzle for you


Can you guess what the sign means? This is local dialect.

Colgate Elementary School

The same school that I, my mother and my grandfather attended, now an office building.
The sign says it all about Indiana: basketball and religion.




Other Clarksville sights






The floodwall between Clarksville and the Ohio River. Once the gates closed, anything on the river side might be washed away in a flood. 1937 was the worst, and my grandparents lost everything as their house was tossed upside down and rolled several blocks down the street. The worst of it was, in 1937 the Red Cross had some corruption and only wanted to sell them relief supplies. Never rich, they had nothing to buy anything with.



A soda only a Hoosier could love.



The fossil beds at the Ohio River falls in Clarksville. In my early years it was a great place to gather arrowheads and fossils. Now it's a protected park.


Colgate Palmolive Plant Clarksville

Second largest clock in the world. Also a former prison. My grandfather worked at the soap factory as a night watchman. We would also see the effects of "rush hour" each day at 3 p.m. when the Colgate Palmolive factory let out and the fastest path back to "new Clarksville" was directly down our street.






Indiana








House in which I grew up...