Stores of Our Lives : Mom’s tribe created a picnic to remember
Posted on Wednesday, September 10, 2008
Editor's note: Members of June Jefferson's Lifewriting Class at the Rogers Adult Wellness Center were invited to submit their stories to the Hometown News. We hope this will become a regular addition to our editorial page; with a variety of writing styles and a multitude of memories representing the diversity that makes Rogers what it is today.
That 4 th of July, I was 8 or 9 years old and the family was going on a picnic - sort of a family reunion because everyone was going: aunts, uncles, my married sisters and their husbands and cousins and all - anyone who wanted to go. We were going to a state park in Oregon, Mo. Why there, I don't know except that is where my mother was born and some of her family. We first went to the graveyard and she put flowers on some graves; her parents were buried there.
Then we went to the park and everyone brought food; we had baked beans, potato salad, hot dogs, deviled eggs, hamburgers, fried chicken, cakes, cookies, ice tea and lemonade. We even had Pepsi, which was a real treat. Of course it would not have been complete without watermelon and it was all set up on a table under a tree. The bright pink flowers on the tablecloth were covered with food, all ready for the eating. On the other side of the tree was a large box of firecrackers for the kids to enjoy.
It was a hot day and some of the adults drank beer and lemonade, the rest visited and the kids played games, baseball and hide and seek.
Then my brother-in-law Joe decided that it was too dangerous for the kids to shoot fireworks so he would do it. He took a strip of fireworks and placed it on the tree limb and lit it.
They started going off and about half way through the strip they started jumping around and some fell in the box with other firecrackers, igniting them and causing a huge blast of firecrackers. The other half of the original park was men and women who had given their lives in World War I and World War II. It had water fountains and playground area and lots of picnic areas. It was a real nice park but electricity, which was common for the time."
Anyway everything else was OK except she added "When the beans went flying a lot of them landed on Uncle Jim, Daddy's brother, who was short and round and had on overalls and a straw hat. He also had a wonderful sense of humor, and joined in the laughter.
"The potato salad was not as lucky: Our Aunt Thelma, who nev er missed a chance to tell Mom when she made a mistake, took the brunt of the potato salad to the back of her head and down her blue and white dress. She was not a happy camper.
"Mom did gasp in horror but I don't think it was so much that she was afraid of being blown up as she was embarrassed that one of her tribe had caused such a commotion."
Although most of the people there are now gone it was a picnic we will not forget. strip went the other way off the limb onto the table and into the baked beans and then they moved to the potato salad.
There were beans and potato salad everywhere.
My mother gasped in horror; she just knew we were going to be blown away, then everyone started laughing. We laughed really hard because some people had beans stuck on them and some, potato salad.
The kids were sort of sad that the firecrackers were gone but it was so funny we soon forgot about them. We ate what was left on the table (which was plenty ) and we all had a good time that afternoon. And we will never forget the beans and potato salad and the firecrackers.
Somebody had brought an ice cream maker and we made homemade ice cream, my favorite flavor - strawberry. That evening we watched the night fireworks going off. The long ride home was a perfect end to an almost perfect day.
My sister Luella read the story and added her comments.
"First the park was not in Oregon, Mo., but was out of town between Oregon and Forest City. The
FEEDBACK:
Something to say about this topic? Submit a Letter to the Editor online