MY MEMORIES

Chapter 3

My Roots and The Picnic

I loved my uncles and aunts dearly. I enjoyed listening when they talked about their childhood. I remember them telling about their house burning and Grandma Elliott carrying out a hot pot of roasting ears so her family would have something to eat. They were unable to save anything else.

Aunt Mable spoiled me and had always been there for me. I loved her dearly and thought I owned her. One day she took me aside and told me she hoped I would be happy for her because she had found a fine man and was going to get married. I didn't like it one bit and pouted most of the day. She talked to me again and I finally said, "OK, but don't ask me to kiss him, because I won't do it." They all chuckled but this did not seem funny to me. I was losing my Aunt Mable. It later worked out great and she and her family were very good to me through some very sad and trying times.

Although it was long after the gold rush era Uncle Albert Elliott moved to California and prospected for gold. He was not very successful.

Dad's brother John died a young man when the "war time flu" hit this area. I remember them telling about there being such an epidemic that there were times it was hard to find anyone to bury the dead.

My grandparents were pioneer settlers in the Willowville vicinity; later called the Pleasant Ridge School District. They traveled to Missouri with a group of pioneers and stopped to wash clothes at the spring in El Dorado Springs that would later become famous. This group had bought land from prospectors without having seen it. I can't imagine doing that. I wonder if they were pleased or disappointed. Grandma Elliott's Eddlemon parents prospered and the Elliott family prospered too, but in smaller measure.

Grandma Elliott was a short-tempered, hardworking woman and seldom left home. She put the welfare of her family first and her personal welfare last. Grandpa delivered their children at home and Grandma would get out of bed to prepare the next meal for her family. Everyone thought this ridiculous. Back then women stayed in bed for nine days after birthing a child. With my first child I stayed in bed the customary nine days. When I got up the first time I was so weak I thought having a baby must be harder on a woman than many illnesses. We have learned a lot in the intervening years.

My grandmothers seldom agreed on anything and I was one of the points of contention. If Grandma Elliott said I was wrong or that I didn't need something I wanted, Grandma Jones would make sure I got my way. She sometimes took me to a restaurant on West Spring Street in El Dorado Springs where I saw my first pats of butter. We always had butter at home but it was homemade and molded in a rounded mound with flowers imprinted on the top. Another thing I remember about this restaurant was the steps on the east, probably because they were steep for a little kid.

The floor covering in the restaurant puzzled me. It was probably inlaid linoleum, which was considered the best at that time. The inlaid design went through to the back instead of being printed on top like the cheaper linoleum. The floor covering could have been tile but I don't remember it as having a hard surface. I was fascinated by the design. It looked like the "Flower Garden" quilts my mama made from little hexagons. I thought the restaurant was very elegant. I don't believe it was in the building that is now The Wayside Inn Museum. I think it was nearer Main Street.

When Grandpa Elliott was about twenty-eight years old they found that he had a severe heart condition. His sons' education suffered because of missing school to help at home but they had very sharp minds and accomplished a good deal.

Grandma Elliott was passionate about the El Dorado Springs annual picnic that was started to celebrate establishing the town. The older generation referred to it as the Twentieth of July. Grandma Elliott always went to the picnic and even after her children were grown they were expected to attend.

Many of the women, especially the young girls, had new dresses for the picnic. If anyone had to forgo a new dress it would likely be the mothers.

I thought the picnic was wonderful. Even during the day there wasn't enough room on the park benches for the crowd so we sat on a quilt spread on the ground. We younger ones could play around as long as we stayed close. Most of the time was spent in the park eating picnic dinners, visiting with friends and listening to the band. Women didn't walk in the crowd alone. The men thought their women folks needed protection and they probably did for sometimes the crowd got a little rough. There were frequently fights when some of the fellows had too much to drink. This was during prohibition but there was bootleg whiskey aplenty.

The picnic fascinated me. There was a barrier erected on the steps of the spring so you were unable to go to the spring but there were new washtubs filled with spring water and ICE. Tin cups were available and everyone drank from them. Once in awhile Mama would make me a drinking cup by cutting a corner from an envelope. That worked okay at the spring spout but I drank from the community cups at the picnic. I'll bet I drank more water than anyone else because it had ice in it and we seldom had ice except when we made ice cream.

Rides cost a nickel and were longer during the day when they were not quite as busy. I loved riding on the merry-go-round. The horses went up and down and kid's parents rode standing by their side to be sure they were safe. Having hold of the rein and putting my feet in the stirrups made it seem so real that I felt the little pony could buck at any moment. The merry-go-round music was so wonderful. We called it a steam organ and I thought it was great. We could hear the music as we left the horse and buggy at the livery stable.

There were free trapeze performances on Main Street. The trapeze artists did their act above the brick paving with no safety net. I believe it was almost as dangerous as I thought it was. It took my breath away but I didn't want to miss a performance.

There were 'girlie' shows and fortunetellers and a number of ways to lose money but a lot of the fun of the picnic was seeing friends that perhaps we hadn't seen since the year before. The picnic was a pleasant time for hard working farmers who tried to plan for a break at that time of year but sometimes crops didn't cooperate and the men would be making hay or cutting wheat or oats. It was also berry picking time and time to make jams and jellies.

We bought ice cream and pop at the picnic but the rest of our food was brought from home. Family members got together to spread picnics on a cloth on the ground. Leftovers were kept in the picnic baskets without the benefit of refrigeration and eaten that evening. How did we survive? Perhaps people were hardier then. Sometimes kids did have stomachaches during summer and parents dreaded a disease called "summer complaint," an intestinal problem that could be fatal to young children.

The celebration went full tilt day and night for three days. I was never ready to go home but there were chores waiting to be done. Few farm families owned an automobile in 1924 and country people who depended on horses for transportation never stayed late at the picnic.