Where Heritage Lives

Three months ago Pa-pa and I left our home of 21 years to set up housekeeping a half hour south of there in a lake subdivision near the small town where he grew up. For him, and for me as well in the nearly 42 years since I have known him, this place offers a dynamic rich in family, old friends, old stomping grounds, and treasured memories. 

This little town is where our children came to visit their grandparents and where numerous aunts, uncles, and cousins still reside. It is where, as a teenager, Pa-pa worked summer jobs on the river, played basketball in the community building, and graduated from high school. For our family, it is a place rich in heritage.

As a bonus, it also offers something of heritage to our grandchildren, as Sooby, Pooh, Bootsie, and Zoomie learned on Oct. 21. When they came to spend that weekend with us, their visit coincided with a gorgeous Indian-summer Saturday that fell during the Warsaw, Mo., community's 35th annual celebration of Pioneer Heritage Days.

Although Heritage Days certainly has its commercial aspect, it also offers a nostalgic look at arts, crafts, relics, and survival processes of the rural Ozarks of the 1800s. Although the modern crafters selling their creations along Drake Harbor downtown are interesting and abundant, it is the wooded area behind the Harry S. Truman Dam Overlook on Kaysinger Bluff that captivates us, sparks our imaginations, and shows us the lifestyles of those who made a living from these hills, woods, and waters generations before us.

Watching the kids immerse themselves in the sights, sounds, smells--in the "feel"--of the past was one of the most exciting, rewarding things we have experienced since the move down. But here--I'll let them show you some of the highlights.

Here, the kids model a horse-drawn carriage--minus the horse. 

Pooh, Boots, and Zoomie check out a new way to roast pork. I love the looks on
their faces in this one! 

The kids learn that draft oxen weigh as much as 3,000 pounds. 

A "mountain man" builds a small animal trap using sticks and stones. 

Pooh hams it up before "Fire in the Hole!" warns that the old cannon is about to fire. 

There was so much more to see and do than what these few photos show--the live bluegrass music, the one-room school, the soap making, the wood carving, the super-soft rabbit pelt that Sooby bought (unknown to us) with her own money, even "Abe Lincoln" delivering the Gettysburg Address.

But maybe we should leave something for you to discover yourself in the event that you attend next year's celebration on Oct. 20-21, 2018. At the price of $7 for adults, $4 for kids 6-12, and younger kids free, we highly recommend this opportunity to take a step into the past for a taste of the heritage that belongs to us all.

      

A Gift from Marian

A couple hours ago, I had never heard of Marian McQuade. Now, I find that I owe her a debt of gratitude.

The Legacy Project website informs me that in 1970, the year I graduated from high school and began college, Marian was leading the charge to establish a special day honoring grandparents. In 1979 her efforts led then-President Jimmy Carter to officially proclaim the first Sunday after Labor Day to be National Grandparents Day.

The proclamation summarizes, in a nutshell, what it is we do as grandparents. We plug the generational gap (well, sometimes). We act as "a link to our national heritage and traditions." We offer "the wisdom of distilled pain and joy."

As society groups began looking for ways to honor the contributions seniors make to family and community, schools quickly followed suit. By the 1980s, when my own kids hit the elementary scene, there were already designated days for my parents and Pa-pa's parents to visit their classrooms, attend a little program, enjoy a free lunch. Though most schools are barely getting things underway as early as Labor Day, they do often host their Grandparents Day celebration sometime during autumn.

Two weeks ago today, Pa-pa and I got our own first-hand taste of Grandparents Day when we paid a one-hour visit to Beenie in kindergarten. The first half-hour took us to the gym, where, just past the cookies, the annual Book Fair was in full swing (sneaky, but effective, planning on the school's part).

With Pa-pa $12 poorer, we then followed Beenie to his classroom where we sat on either side of him as he showed us a number game, sang a group song, and presented us with a piece of art work (which is still stuck to my fridge with a magnet clip).

And so, forty-some years after Marian McQuade (who, by the way, was herself a grandma of forty-three--no kidding, the article said that) pitched her notion that grandparents should be honored in this way, here are results that I, personally and directly, attribute to her efforts.

Without you, Marian, Beenie would not be the proud owner of a book titled, "Learn To Draw Angry Birds." If this turns out to be the impetus that sparks a lucrative career as an artist, we know who deserves the credit.

And without you, Marian, I would not have this gem on my fridge. With a cover of orange construction paper, it boasts two little black-paint hand prints crossed into the shape of a heart. Alongside is a rainbow, drawn with crayons, with the colors in the right order (a little OCD? maybe--but still pretty impressive for a five-year-old).

On the inside of the masterpiece, Beenie traced the words "When I am a grandparent I will--" and then there is a blank for him to complete the sentence in his own way. If art school doesn't work out for him, perhaps the Olympics are a possibility. He wrote, "When I am a grandparent I will run."

Beenie likely knows that, once in a while, grandkids might behave in a way that makes grandparents want to do that. But not usually. Not on a day like this, my first Grandparents Day.

So there you have it, Marian--my undying gratitude. Thanks for all your hard work.

 I really mean that.


 

 

Let's Hear It for the Cheese!

I shudder to think how close it came to happening. How, by the skin of my teeth, I avoided what would certainly have been a tragedy.

Thanks to Heero, the youngest of the six grandkids, my life is complete. Yes, because, he had his fourth birthday yesterday, I am able to say that, after a lifetime of deprivation I wasn't even aware of, Pa-pa and I have now experienced Chuck E. Cheese's.

Think of a quiet, romantic candlelight dinner for two. Then imagine its diametrical opposite, and you have Chuck E. Cheese, a combination pizza eatery and amusement arcade. Book a date there, as Heero's parents did, and you have two hours to immerse yourself and your guests in a glitzy, rollicking birthday party that includes pizza, ice cream and cake, balloons, arcade "play passes" for the kids, and--most importantly--a guest appearance by the Head Cheese himself.

Heero learned about Chuck E. Cheese's from the daycare grapevine. After an enthusiastic review of the place by a playmate, he told his mama that's where he wanted to go, and the rest is history. For Pa-pa and me, it was worth the two-hour one-way drive to see all the kids and grandkids and watch them have so much fun.

Here, let me show you just a few scenes from the evening:

The birthday boy tries to feed some colored balls to his frog friend.

           Teebo (Dad) gives him some pointers on his basketball shot.

Pizza time brings all the kids back to the table.

Heero prepares to blow out his candles.

All the kids gather for a shot with Chuck E. Cheese:

Heero's baby cousin, Sooby, Heero, Bootsie, Pooh, Zoomie, and brother Beenie.

Happy 4th birthday, Heero!