Thanksgivings in Arkansas

I was thinking that I'd like to start a little stash of posts called Childhood Memories.

You know, its bad enough that people are all the time telling me to remember every morsel of these magical years with my children. telling me that i will forget so much if i don't write it down.

not to mention my OWN childhood----got to make some records of those memories also.

so in that spirit, i bring forth the first post of childhood memories devoted to Thanksgivings past.

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in my younger years, we traditionally would spend our thanksgivings in Fordyce, Arkansas. This is where my dad's parents lived. It was all i ever knew for them, and so thinking about them living somewhere else before that farm was very odd. We did go to see them at other occasions besides Thanksgiving, but whenever i think about their farm, i imagine it chilly outside with a crunchy ground and the smell of firewood.

whenever we would visit Fordyce, it would take eons to get there. many of our trips were from Jacksonville, AL to Fordyce. it took about 11 hrs.
i remember a few times (think 1985) that we would load up our wood panel station wagon at night, making a huge pallet in the back for us 3 kids to sleep on for the duration. then we typically would attempt to leave the house at like 4am. why would we do 4am? i have no idea, but that was our travel routine.
other times i remember using pillows to make a sleeping area in backseat of car (including someone sleeping in floorboard) (that would be me, the runt, in the floor board). we finally started to get too big for that plan, and also then my brothers started to swap driving with my parents at the appropriate age. so then there was alot of seat swapping, but little sis (me) continued to get the free pass to sleep the entire way. today my brother and husband will still pick at me b/c nothing can put me to sleep faster than a road trip to Ark.
anyway, lots of long hrs in the car and as you remember there were no DVD players. it was the golden age of the walkman, however. of course we only had one or two and we would share. of course i don't remember having any of my own tapes, just listening to my brothers' music. it was alot of Huey Lewis and the News, Whitesnake, and Chicago.
other activities were reading books--- perhaps in the dark, and finding new comfortable ways to sleep in the backseat, much like a pile of puppies.
i don't remember alot of restaurant meals but what i do remember, and what was the ultimate roadtrip treat, was the pit stop at the gas station. oh, no matter what backseat coma we were in, we'd bust out of that car for a good stretch and eagerly head inside to find what deliciousness was available for noshing. one of my brothers would always come back with a giant pickle in a bag of pickle juice.

it is at this time that i want to hail my parents for giving us "food freedom" for the bulk of our childhood. we were cautioned not to ruin our appetite on many an occasion, but overall we could eat whatever, whenever. it sounds so ....bad. but i always felt that it was completely normal. i was puzzled by other families with eating "rules".
so at these pit stops we would find 1 or 2 goodies, as usual whatever we wanted to eat from the selection, and a coke (in a glass bottle, with styrofoam label to peel off, mind you).

so we would head to Ark. in this manner. there wasn't much on the way, but i do know that whenever we drove over the Mississippi River bridge, into Ark, it was a time for everyone to wake up, stop all car activities and acknowledge:

"here we are driving over the Miss. river".

it was a moment i tell you. as a child i thought that the bridge was fascinating.

bridge over the Mississippi River in Greenville, MS

so then the next thrill would be getting into Fordyce and almost to my grandparents farm (in rural Ramsey). making a turn at a little country church and then heading past the deer camp, past my great grandparents home.
then the sound.
the sound that declared to all in the car that we had arrived. arrived at grandma and papaw's.
the sound of the car driving over the cattle gap.
it was this noise that often woke me and indicated our trip was over.

looking up i would see their home, certainly with smoke coming from the chimney and cars galore in the yard.

the next thing to be noted was their carport. highlights included greetings from farm dogs (maybe Fritz or Hobo), Papaw's collection of work boots next to the steps and his chair, the firewood boxes on either side of the chimney, and their red door. but more notably the screen door which had a distinct sound and would slam loudly if care not taken.

inside was lite paneling on walls and dark 70's carpet with a few burnt spots from fire sparks, just where they had been the last time i visited. the rock fireplace with sunburst set into the stone and wood burning stove was a focal point. on either side of fireplace was the wood boxes (opening to outside) with cushion bench covers, where i would peek out the window looking for family to drive up the gravel road, deer to slip across the field or snow to fall.

to my left was Grandma's kitchen and more than likely Grandma. she had to have spent 15 hrs a day in that kitchen. she forever was cooking. things to remember in her kitchen include a vintage yellow fridge with lift out handle, rotary phone where any and all calls were made (no cells) and brown pottery style dishes serving up fried deer meat, fried taters, corn, sweet tater biscuits and an assortment of jams. when i think about her greeting us, i think about her hands being wet but warm from dishwater.

to my right was Papaw in his den. He would read his Bible or watch football in his black leather chair, or play solitaire with a real deck of cards---imagine that---at the coffee table. and when i think about him getting up to greet us, i think of a toothpick in his mouth.

creaking down the hall ---there was no way to do it quietly--- you would find 4 bedrooms and 2 baths. Memories of that area of the home include Grandma and Papaw's insanely deep feather bed, their tub with the special rubber ducky, big stash of wrigley's chewing gum in Papaw's sock drawer, a giant wall of photo frames all down the hallway, and Rhonda's bedroom closet filled with treasured toys from the 70's, all for us to play with.

there was no telling where you were gonna sleep when you all got there. because all the Williams were coming to town. back then there was gonna be 12 of us, and in later yrs there could have been 18 there at one time.

time would be passed with cooking or cleaning up meal mess for the women, hunting or football on TV for the men, and any variety of board games played at the dining room table by whomever felt the urge. Also some years we enjoyed a ladies shopping trip on Black Friday involving a road trip to Pine Bluff's mall.

but there is one thing that i enjoyed the most. the very most. even more than my Grandma's food. it was a special, special time of tradition during each visit where we would pull out a dozen song books, brought from one church building or the other, and we would have ourselves a regular gospel singing right there in the den.

i can't really explain, but that seemed to be a common ground for everyone in the room. all of us different ages, coming from different towns or states and rarely seeing one another, but during that singing was felt a union. even now when i sing gospel songs with other people, even the same songs--- no other time is it a feeling like when i was singing with my father's family.

pitch pipe, if you are unfamiliar

so after deer were skinned, songs sang, leftovers rummaged, board game pieces recovered, then we'd head back to our corners of the world. not likely to all be together again for another year.

it is these times, that cannot be revisited for many reasons, that i want to remember.

p.s. i was made very aware of how NOT organized my pictures are when i set about looking for some old Thanksgiving photos. i know they are here in my house. if i find them i'll get them on here.