Winter, Whittier and My Old Dad

 

My Driveway - All Shoveled Clean!
(Thanks to Dave and Anna for shoveling off the first seven inches!)

When it snows, like it has this week, I think of winters past, my old Dad and the poem "Snow-bound: A Winter Idyl " by John Greenleaf Whittier.

I am sure that my Dad did not read poetry. He read the West Plains Daily Quill, front to back, every day. He would read the occasional book or magazine, but poetry... Naaah.

However, Leamon Riggs and the father of JG Whittier shared a common wintertime custom.

It was a ritual around the Riggs house. The morning after a big snowfall, he would roust my brother Ralph and I out of bed with the announcement, "Come on boys, it's time to shovel some snow."

In line sixty-seven of "Snow-bound", Whittier's father expresses it differently, but with the same meaning; "Boys, a path!"

After bundling up in coats, boots and sock hats; we grabbed the shovels and went to work. Our "tools of the trade" were usually a regular snow shovel, a couple of old grain shovels and a broom.

We would begin by shoveling paths. A path from the wood box on the carport out to the wood pile. A path from the back patio, down across the yard to the "little door" of the shop. Paths to the pickups and other vehicles parked near the shop. Dad would use the broom to carefully sweep the snow from the vehicles and then we would shovel path around them!

When all the "path-shoveling" was complete, it was time to get down to business. 

The apron on the shop was shoveled off, the gravel parking area in front of the shop was shoveled off and the patio was shoveled off.

Were we done? Not by a long shot! It was time to start on the driveway!!

You may think I am exaggerating but I remember times when we shoveled the entire driveway, from the carport down to the county road. A distance of two to three-hundred feet!

This was my dad's reasoning. Get the snow off the walking and driving surfaces before it gets packed down. If you get most of the snow off the surface, the sun will do the rest.

I have found that "The apple doesn't fall far from the tree"... "I'm a chip off the ole block" or some such idiom.

When the snow stops falling, I find myself, outside, snow shovel and broom in hand, making the snow fly!!

A path from the front porch to the carport. A path from the front porch, around the house to the back deck. A side path to the propane tank. A path from the path to the carport to my in-law's house next door...

And then the driveway...

From the carport, out to the county road...

As I am shoveling, my mind wanders back to those times spent with my dad. It wasn't extraordinary. It wasn't "fun". It was hard, backbreaking labor that at the time, I begrudged. Now however, it's a bittersweet memory of Winter, Whittier and My Old Dad...

Gentry

"Gentry"
(The red bow has disappeared)

If you drive Missouri Route 14, from West Plains to Ava, you will pass through some of the beauty and ruggedness that make these Ozark Hills famous. However, there is really nothing extraordinary, just hills, hollers, pines, hardwoods, glades... and a crooked, curvy highway.

But when my wife,Tami, and I travel it, there's that one certain place...

Tami and I had our first date on February 15th, 1985. I took her to a church sponsored Sweetheart Banquet and by late spring, we had begun dating steady.

On a particular spring evening, we decided to travel to Ava, eat at the Pizza Hut and look at a project I had been working on in town. After eating a good meal, and driving around the prosperous metropolis of Ava for awhile, we decided to mosey on home.

The sun had set by the time we left and it was dusky dark when we passed through the intersection of 95 Highway at Gentryville. Just down the hill east, right before crossing the Brush Creek bridge, there was couple of old vacant store buildings on the north side of the highway. There was a gravel area right in front of the buildings where you could pull off the highway...

And that's what I did!

Now, I didn't realize it at the time, but Tami was quite concerned. She knew I was a Christian, and surely, surely, I wouldn't be pulling off to "park"! "Maybe he just feels the call of nature" but that too would be very embarrassing! 

In the meantime (while her mind was racing) I had got out and asked Tami to lean forward so I could get something from behind the seat of my truck. I retrieved a little package, put the seat back, handed her the package and got back in.

When she opened it, there was a small stuffed "Bambi" deer inside with a red bow tied around it's neck!

To say she was pleased would be an under statement! Tami immediately dubbed the little buck "Gentry" for the burg we were near and then we traveled on home.

And now, when we travel 14 Highway and pass through Gentryville, we chuckle, remembering this little episode in our courting days and are reminded again of how much we love each other!

As we get close to Valentines Day, there are a couple of observations that I draw from this little adventure in our lives.

Number one, the gift doesn't necessarily have to be big and expensive, to be pleasing. As you can see, Tami has kept this little memento for almost thirty-six years!

Number two, make memories close to home, where you can easily be reminded of them in years to come. A trip to Hawaii or Cancun is nice, but usually, only pictures remain. As Tami and I travel about here in the Ozarks, we are always passing by someplace and saying "Do you remember when we were here...."

After 36 years, all that remains of the old store buildings near Gentryville is the foundations