Family memories

pictured is a one room school that still stands in Southern Idaho....a little town named Squirrrel...it is a good example of how they looked.....though this one is on the prairie.....and the "little house" is gone!...Ours was in the high mountains, I'm pushin' 60 and I barely remember it!

Living in one area generation after generation after generation has a it's down side.No one seems to remember the good things that were done.The people who fed others during the depression era, even if they couldn't buy their own children shoes, and the town cop who became the mayor for years and years are forgotten in lieu of the poor fella' who has a drug problem or drinks to much or the scandal about the cousin who shot his wife!..

These things people remember! The bad things the odd things that were done, are foremost in peoples minds! If they can remember something bad about the "good guy" it is even better!!!

I remember once an In law of my Dad's cousins.WE have lots of cousins of cousins in this family.That in law made the remark that an Aunt was raising her own tribe out in our little area! The truth is she was Cherokee born and bred. Her children were on the Dawes report.WE didn't know that. What we did know was the Aunt raised our Grandfather from birth, she took in every kid who needed a mother. She taught those who needed teaching and she rarely went to town! She instilled pride. She taught children how to preserve food and find wild things to eat when they would have had nothing! Note I still don't mention her name,because I imagine there are a few who do not know they have such a rich heritage! To say that they were Native was not a proud thing in that era!In fact to bring it up in public would have got our backsides warmed in a most uncomfortable way!

Grandfather lived his life out on that hill. He worked as a logger and kept to himself. He had his own things he did, one of which was to tell us tall tales. For years we wondered why he maintained there were "hoop snakes" in our swamp. A hoop snake is a curious thing. It goes about with it's tale in it's mouth like a child playing hoops in another time another era. It don't slither like other snakes instead it rolls along the forest floor! These snakes often hit things like trees and people in their "tire like" rolling around. They have no concept of direction and they are very brittle....when they collide with something solid they automatically strike out and poison what ever they have hit!!! Alternately they can fly apart and each bit becomes a DART that is poisonous to what ever it hits...(If you believe that I have some sea front property on our mountain to sell yah!)

There was a one room school house on the hill. There seemed to be one of those about every 12 miles apart in Idaho. I don't know why 12 miles. Some have said that was about the distance a wagon traveled in a day...some have said it was a good distance for any kid to walk to school, if they really wanted an education they could have their pick of one room schools on the side of the mountain that was closest to them!

Dad's generation was about the last class in the one room school as they consolidated a school district in town in the thirties...My Aunt's husband became head of the school district! (If you think about it you will see that was probably one of the reason's she rarely left the mountain! She was a beautiful giving woman who kept to herself that no one should see her and guess her heritage! It is quite sad, from my point of view! She had such heart and such pride in her children and their accomplishments yet no where is it written that she was Cherokee! I will not write her name out of respect for that wish to remain Grandma! Her Grandchildren still live here in our small world! I doubt many of them know just who she actually was....To Dad she was Grandmother, and Indian princess!. Even though the Cherokee had no Indian princess, We did!

Dad's father banned us from the confines of the "swamp." He didn't ban us by rule or punishment. He banned us with FEAR! All things considered it was kind of a mean thing to do. It meant we had to walk an extra half mile to the school bus. If we could have walked through the swamp to the bus stop it was much shorter. The problem was, we would have walked past his still! We wouldn't have known about this but the one room school became a family meeting place. Grandfather volunteered to start the fire one winters eve, cause he was going to the still any way! He must have "got to" tasting his fixin's cause when the family arrived at the school for the family party the fire was not started. Grandpa was in his forties and very very strong! No one worried about him for quite some time! They got the fire going and warmed those who came to the party. The family band took it's place behind the pot luck table and tuned their instruments. One of the ladies went to the outhouse..Where they found Grandpa passed out on one of the two seats in the house.....He had on his red long johns so there was no fear of her seeing anything really embarrassing.....though showing off one's" trap door,longies" was not acceptable. He must have been there quite a while. His "stagged off" logger pants were frozen to the floor! He had fallen into the swamp up to his pockets....so his lower extremities were quite cold....He had enough white lightening in him so all they had to do was thaw him out!.........Hill Style Antifreeze!.....Memories are made of this! Presumably the band played on! A good time was had by all! The "Squeezin's" fed many families on out hills during the lean years. When your children are hungry you do what you gotta' do!

There is a story about all the brothers getting into the still! They were drinking and fighting....which was normal for them! The argument was all about "just how much power a 12 gauge shot gun had at which range!" One cousin maintained it would not shoot through a "card board" box at twenty feet. The cousins aligned them selves either for or against. Soon they were "liquored up" enough to test the theory.....Four of them climbed into a big ole box......they paced off the "feet" and one cousin took careful aim with the 12 guage....BOOM!!!!......Good thing they opted to turn their backs to the shooter......cause Grandma was pickin' buck out of their backsides with a pair of tweezers the rest of the night........I will take their word for it.....A 12 gauge will shoot through a card board box at twenty paces!!!

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