Author Topic: Shakesthegrounds Rumblings  (Read 2530408 times)

Offline SuperDistortion

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Re: Shakesthegrounds Rumblings
« Reply #5560 on: October 22, 2012, 01:42:40 pm »
How beautifully descriptive!  Wow.
"Really, it's not mine..."   --- Austin Powers

Offline SuperDistortion

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Re: Shakesthegrounds Rumblings
« Reply #5561 on: October 22, 2012, 01:44:35 pm »
I think Penth hit the nail on the head.
"Really, it's not mine..."   --- Austin Powers

Offline Shakesthecoffecan

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Re: Shakesthegrounds Rumblings
« Reply #5562 on: October 22, 2012, 02:00:58 pm »
Cabin 12 at Tims Ford Rustic State Park:
"It was only you in my life, and it will always be only you, Jack, I swear."

Offline Penthesilea

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Re: Shakesthegrounds Rumblings
« Reply #5563 on: October 22, 2012, 02:06:20 pm »
(Tru) Thank you! :-*

Not being familiar with that part of the US, I opened google maps and followed along your trip, alternating between reading and looking at the map.
I can't say anything I haven't said before, but it bears repeating in any case: I love, love, love your writing. You could re-write the phone-book and I'd be happy to read it. You have a way to reach people's souls with your words.
Love, Chrissi

Offline Penthesilea

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Re: Shakesthegrounds Rumblings
« Reply #5564 on: October 22, 2012, 02:14:59 pm »
Cabin 12 at Tims Ford Rustic State Park:

Looks rustic to me! Maybe not in the sense of old-fashioned or country-chic, but at least rustic in the sense of rough and basic. :laugh:

Offline Shakesthecoffecan

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Re: Shakesthegrounds Rumblings
« Reply #5565 on: October 22, 2012, 02:38:46 pm »
Did I mention there was cotton?

As soon as I entered Franklin County I noticed on both sides of the road, cotton fields, ripe for the picking, some streatching off to the far woods. I have expected to see Sally Field and John Malcovich come riding down the road in a wagon.

Lynne had arrived the day before with her friend Michelle from Boston, and Mandy had drove down from Missouri the same day, by her own account with everything but the kitchen sink. Lynne's cousin Chris had arrived several days earlier and visited with relatives. It was my first time meeting all three of them. I was given the grand tour of the Architectural Digest cabin, including its connected balconies which I never visited again. It was very angular with a sunken living room, gas logs in the fire place, kitchen dining room area, two bedrooms and a bath.

Also there was Lynne's brother Billy and his partner Maggie, who is becoming great with child but has a ways to go to meet her Christmas due date.
They were pouring over the recently discovered and for the most part never before seen by them photographs of their mother and her family discovered in the storage locker. Apparently fairies had hid these from them when they cleaned out their mothers house a few years back. They had taken these albums and folders and individual photos and hid them, letting these children believe there was only two photographs of Cricket as a child existing. They had been some how snuck back into the storage locker to the wonder and amazement of those left behind.

Presently Wayne arrived, bearing: One 12 Pack of Pomplamoose Soda, 3 six packs of beer, a large bottle of a dark whine, a bottle of Jack Daniels, A bottle of George Dickle, Three cowboy hats, a pair of boots and over very well packed suit case.
"It was only you in my life, and it will always be only you, Jack, I swear."

Offline Shakesthecoffecan

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Re: Shakesthegrounds Rumblings
« Reply #5566 on: October 22, 2012, 02:53:55 pm »
Born Frances Rose Shore, on Leap Day, 1916 in Winchester, Tennessee, young Dinah Shore often claimed to be from Nashville. Her parents, Soloman Shore and Anne Stein, where Russian Jewish Emigres who operated a dry good store there. According to Wikipedia (so it has to be true) the young Dinah suffered from Polio at the age of 2 from which she never fully recovered.

One of her childhood memories was described in wikipedia as follows: "She had a childhood recollection of her normally restrained father's exasperated reaction one evening when the Ku Klux Klan paraded in Winchester; despite the hoods the marchers were wearing, Solomon Shore, a dry goods merchant, recognized some of his customers by their shoes and gaits" In 1924 she and her parents and her sister Bessie moved to McMinnville, Tennessee, where her father operated a department store.

Dinah went on to have a fabulous career in Hollywood and on TV and although deceased remains the namesake of the largest lesbian golf event in the U.S.

Winchester named its main street after her.

[youtube=425,350]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7SEn3c4MLzs[/youtube]
"It was only you in my life, and it will always be only you, Jack, I swear."

Offline Kelda

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Re: Shakesthegrounds Rumblings
« Reply #5567 on: October 22, 2012, 03:52:52 pm »
You have such a way with words Tru!
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Please use the following links when shopping online -It will help us raise money without costing you a penny.

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Offline Shakesthecoffecan

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Re: Shakesthegrounds Rumblings
« Reply #5568 on: October 23, 2012, 12:31:09 pm »
Saturday was the day of the service at the Methodist Church. I drove Lynne into town about 9 in the morning to meet with the preacher and music director. Mandy and Michelle and Chris went to Kroger to get the meal for after the service. My electric razor had made the trip from Virginia to spend eternity in the Franklin County, Tennessee landfill so I was looking for another one or a barber that could make me look presentable.

Having dropped her off, I parked on the square and went looking for a shop and soon came upon a door to an old building that read "Philpotts Barber Shop" That is not a common name, but one I was familiar with. My father's late attorney was a Philpott and has a highway named in his honor running through southside Virginia in recognition of his years in the legislature.

Inside a man in his late 60s was watching TV. I asked him if I could get a shave. He won't set up for that. So I asked him could I get a hair cut and could he run the clippers over my face and he agreed to do that. I had a seat in his chair, and had a good look at the place. I realize I was now in the year 1928.

The room was huge, the tin ceiling was at least 20 feet high. To my left was another barber chair and to my right the parts to make a third one. Beyond that a shoe shine stand waiting for a young man in a straw hat and clip on collar to come along and have the polish applied before heading out to the dance. Back to my left was a series of mirrors which at the bottom of them in gold leaf advertised various business in town that I doubt survived the crash of '29. Some of them had phone numbers and one in particular had the phone number "19".

I asked the barber if he knew Lynne's mother but he didn't. The TV was going on about something. I gave him a tip and told him it had been a real experience. I looked like a million dollars if I do say so meself.

Back at the Church the family and relations had gathered for the service. The interior of the church was magnificent, all vaulted ceilings and ornate wood and thank you Jesus padded pews. The piano played in the time honored stalling tactic until the arrival of everyone and the service began. Chris wore her dress and carried a hand bag and no one at all seemed to care. The minister gave his welcome and soon it came time for our readings.

Lynne rose when the time came, and carrying the family Bible only recently discovered, the one her grandfather had bought on the installment plan for $16.00 in 1957, she went to the pulpit and delivered, bravely and eloquently, the eulogy. The summation of the life of their mother. As Cricket had come into this world 72 years ago to the arms of her parents and grandparents, she had in her time seen them all safely out, into the unknown and unknowable, those people had passed her off to her husband and her children who in turn had carried her to the end. It was as it always has been, and it is what we all secretly hope for. Some one to stand at the end of the line and sum it all up to those who care. I can honestly say this woman's hard work and sacrifices were well worth it. She was in her humble way, a success in life. 

We sang the hymns, as best we could, my own voice I would compare to Marianne Faithfuls tone deaf brother. The real blessing came at the end when Billy's friend came to the pulpit with a guitar that looked like it could tell some tales. The Choir director lady looked apprehensive, and after a few words of remembrance, the music came forth, under special license from Shawn Kirchner himself, he bellowed: "I'll be on my way....I'll be on my way.....I'll lay these burdens down......You know I'm Glory Bound.....I'll be on my way"

Never before in my life, and I was raised Methodist, have I heard applause in a church. It was magnificent.
"It was only you in my life, and it will always be only you, Jack, I swear."

Offline Shakesthecoffecan

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Re: Shakesthegrounds Rumblings
« Reply #5569 on: October 23, 2012, 01:15:14 pm »
The preacher had made a point of blessing the food in the reception hall in his closing benediction. I thought that was very thoughtful and perhaps he had another engagement to get to.

At the meal I met Lynne's father and his wife, and her cousin Tim as well as many other relatives. All good people and as I have said, no one passing the first remark about Chris's dress. Afterward we loaded the flowers in the car and set out for the family plot where in the spring, Crickets ashes will go back to the earth. There was business to conduct with Mr. Newgent, the caretaker, with regard to the erection of the monument.

But first we had to get there.

Lynne and myself and her cousin Tim took my car, Wayne and Chris were behind me and Lynne's father and step mother in the third car. We headed out of town on Rt. 64 and headed into Lincoln County, out amongst the cotton fields and scattered houses. I played the radio for Tim, who would occasionally sing random verses to the classic country songs played on WSM. The year before he had lost his father and almost his sister when a tornado tore through their town. His sister, who I met, had spent 6 months in a rehab. There was a sadness about him that you knew would never leave him, but it did not consume him. He was in love. In love with a woman in Tullahoma he was taking dancing and it sounded to me like they might dance all night.

We passed the United States Postal Service facility for Flintville, Tennessee and following Mr. Newgents directions turned at the convince store. There things got murky.

Memory is a fickle thing. It requires frequent refreshing to be useful. Lynne and her family knew the way, but the way changes, rearranged by road imps and fairies who replace old barns with new houses. After several anticipatory turns the GPS was consulted and to our amazement it knew where the Golden family was, and they were only 3.8 miles away.

I pointed out immediately this was the fanciest family plot I'd ever visited as it had its own privy.

We took the flowers and undid the arrangements, decorating the graves of each family member. The Baby who died in 1936 with a cursive hand frozen in concrete to tell about her, the brother who died in France in World War II leaving behind a tantalizing photo of himself and buddy. We read the names and the dates and waited for Mr. Newgent, who was prodded 100 meters down the road with another phone call. He arrived in his Lincoln and was the only one expressing any confusion the whole day with regard to Chris's gender when introduced as Lynne's sister.

He was the caretaker. He was the fountain of knowledge of such places out in the country. Where you could dig and where not to dig. He kept it all in his head.

"Over here" he gestured to an otherwise empty section "are soldiers and Indians". He went on to point out his parents graves, and how he had come by the knowledge from his father, and here was his brother, who had gone north to find work as Lynne's parents had, only to fall victim to an unsolved crime.

Wayne whispered: "He was only 39 years old".
"It was only you in my life, and it will always be only you, Jack, I swear."