Kaufman

After the service at College Mound, Sherry and I went to Kaufman with Tim and his family. We looked for the site of my Grandmother's house in Kaufman, and with a minimal amount of wandering around, found it. We knew that the house had burned down, but we wanted to at least visit the site. Tim and I had both been there as children. This was not really "the old homestead." Our Grandmother had bought the house and moved into town sometime after our grandfather died in 1946. Most of her children were grown and gone by that time. But she lived there until she died in 1966. Our Aunt Jane continued to live there for a number of years. But the house was essentially unmaintainable. Eventually Aunt Jane moved into a modern duplex and the old house was sold. By the time it burned down, the family had had no connection with it for perhaps twenty years.

Next we went to Uncle Jack's farm, about five miles outside of town. This was a real nostalga binge. Tim and I had both visited there as children. Uncle Jack died in 1994, but Aunt Francis continued to live there until about five years ago, when she moved into an assisted living facility, where she still lives. My father and I visited her at the farm, perhaps ten years ago.

The house and the outbuildings are still there, looking very much like they looked when I visited as a child. I have posted some pictures below.

The shed behind the house.


Tim examines the old tractor.


The barn.

I remember being inside the barn as a child when it was well populated with animals, and climbing into the hay loft.


We drove into town for dinner at the Jackson Street BBQ, on the square. Tim had read good reviews of this restaurant on the Internet, so we decided to give it a try. A good decision! The smoke and barbecue smell outside would have pulled me in even without the reviews.


We were met with the sound of Bluegrass music. By pure luck we had gone there on a night when local musicians met to play and sing. There were about a dozen musicians, playing guitars, banjos, and mandolins. I said to Diana as we went in, "This is the real thing!"

They played and sang with no written music. All acoustic. It sounded absolutely professional.



Percussion was provided by a washboard. This was not a joke instrument. This was serious music. The guy standing, in the picture below, is playing a wash tub bass. There is a single string, which is barely visible in the picture. He controls the pitch by pulling back on the top of the stick to change the tension. It sounds pretty much like a real bass. I was amazed.

They played and sang a song that I remembered from my Grandfather's funeral in 1952. In the funeral the song was sung by a quartet with piano accompaniment, but I recognized the tune immediately. I remember just a few of the words. "Cheer up my brother. ... We'll understand (it all by and by.)" But that was enough to find the song on the Internet. I hadn't heard the song since 1952, but there are multiple performances on YouTube. The one I like best is by Johnny Cash .

We stayed there listening to the music until they started to close the restaurant. The waitress took this picture for us.

Aunt Jean

On Tuesday, September 13, my cousin Reba called to let us know that her mother, my Aunt Jean, had passed away. There would be a funeral in Nederland, Texas, where she had lived, and burial at College Mound, Texas. Sherry and I traveled to Texas to attend the graveside service. Aunt Jean was the last surviving child of my paternal grandparents, my father's last surviving sibling.

Reba's husband, Rev. Mark Mark Baliles, conducted the service. Happy stories from personal experience as a member of Aunt Jean's family. Sympathetic, honest, unvarnished recall of the hardship of the final chapter of her life. Wonderful Bible passages about death and resurrection.

The sadness of saying goodbye was tempered by the joy of being with family members that we have rarely seen.

Sherry and I returned to College Mound on Monday and took some pictures, which I have posted below.

A sweet little country church.

Micanopy

Sherry and I visited Micanopy yesterday. Micanopy (pronounced Mick-can-oh'-pee) is a pretty little town near Gainesville, noted primarily for antique shops. It was the first inland settlement in Florida. Bailey White writes about driving 200 miles each year to visit the book store there. Mr. Brisky and his book store are still there. We poked around in the store for a while, looking but not buying. It was just as Baily White described it.

I had often wondered about the meaning of the name Micanopy. Then a few days ago I read an account of the Dade Massacre. This was the opening of the Second Seminole War, on December 28, 1835, in which Major Francis L. Dade (Miami-Dade county and Dade City, FL) was killed, along with most of his company of 110 soldiers. Major Dade was reportedly killed by the first shot, fired by a Seminole known as Micanopy.

It seemed strange that a town would be named for an enemy combatant. Especially one notorious for having personally killed an American military leader. A roadside plaque in Micanopy resolved the mystery.

Micanopy is not a name, but a title, meaning "Great Chief". The town, which has been continuously settled since 1821, was referred to both as "Wanton" and "Micanope" in its earliest days. The name was officially changed to "Micanopy" in 1834, prior to the Dade massacre.

The town was, in fact, named for the same Micanopy who later led the Seminoles in the Dade massacre, and has retained that name to this day.