Southern Indiana Stories

He's my brother

2011-03-02T18:37:00.001-05:00

I was walking my dog and witnessed this scene as an innocuous passer-by:

Kids 1,2,&3 are on their bikes. Kid 1 (the youngest) rides around a house leaving 2 & 3, who get off of their bikes and begin talking or planning or whatever. Kid 1 calls out for Kid 2 from afar, to the annoyance of Kids 2 & 3 (they are being interrupted). But Kid 2 gets on his bike, and then intimates to Kid 3, 'Yeah, I know. I hate him too, but he's my brother." and rides off to find out what his brother wants or needs....

My Grandmother's Funeral

2010-06-03T20:53:00.000-04:00

The room was full and I had been lucky. I was a pallbearer and was to be at the funeral parlor before 1pm for instructions. I believe I was there at 12:58. But I immediately ran into my cousin who directed me to the office where the nice lady found and pinned the flower that designated me.

I saw a gentleman sitting at a couch outside the chapel area that looked the part of the Baptist preacher that had been found. (He had some sort of connection to the Anderson Valley church that my grandmother's father had helped build. So it fit.)

I asked if there was a place for me to tell a 45 second story about my grandmother. He readily agreed and wrote me into his line-up.

My luck continued as I surveyed the room from the back to see a full house and as I stood there, a cousin waved me to the front, where there was a seat next to another second cousin who had hoped to see me. Since it was the only time we spoke, this alone was fortuitous. But it also proved to be a great vantage point to set up the video recorder mode with my digital camera.

And gave me immediate access to the podium for my story.

The service started with the pall-bearing cousin and cousin-in-law singing ‘How Great Thou Art’. (They play in different variations of different people and are usually called something along the lines of ‘The Linda Smith Band’ with my cousin-in-law’s voice and stage presence being the stars.)

They sang beautifully.

Then, there was a poem written by a second cousin about my grandmother's life. It was read tearfully by her dad. It was nice but I found myself with cynical thoughts about many of the lines, so I'm still a bit of an ass, luckily I keep a lot of those times to myself.

If people only knew…

Then my cousins sang an original song and the preacher cued me to tell my short story, which went like this:

A week before my grandmother died, I played some music at my grandmother's bedside while she slept on a Sunday morning. Every once in awhile, she would be conscious but without strength to open her eyes and, because she had labored breathing, her responses to questions were monosyllabic.

Since I had played "He's Got the Whole World in His Hands' while she was sleeping, I asked "So, Nanny, do you feel like you're in God's hands?"

Without missing a beat, barely audible, she responded with confidence, "Oh, I'm always in God's hands."

Then the preacher started his mix of eulogizing and sermonizing that is the hallmark of most funerals, I imagine.

The only fun part of the funeral to report was when this preacher talked about the fact that my grandfather had been his schoolteacher. He added (paraphrase), "Ralph had done some correcting when he needed to. If you correct kids today, you get in trouble."

So at my grandmother's funeral, this guy managed to get in a lament for the lack of corporal punishment in the schools.

Very Baptist, so it fit in perfectly.

But I should mention that my grandmother's preferred tools in child rearing were guilt and shame. But she did use a ‘switch’ on occasion.

Again, Very Baptist.

The preacher also said the usual stuff, as in, “Amy is going to rejoin her husband Ralph.” [Personally, I would hope that if that scenario re: Heaven were correct, she would seek out Mr. Denton, her companion for 8 of the last ten yrs of her life.]

At least the preacher did mention Mr. Denton, which was less Baptist of him. But I thought it a good and righteous mention. Mr. Denton made those years that that he and my grandmother were "just friends" the best of her life, I believe.

When the sermon was over and the last prayer said, the minister stood by for handshakes as the room emptied from the back to front, filing past the body of Amy Fern Smith one last time.

The caravan from Huntingburg to Birdseye was about 25-30 cars long, I'm guessing, and stretched a decent distance as we at the back without our flags tagged along through the two stoplights and one stop sign that are found between the funeral home in Huntingburg and cemetery in Birdseye, Indiana, a distance of 17 miles.

The pitch-in dinner at the church in Birdseye was everything I could hope for except maybe home-fried chicken --but nobody ever does that anymore – it’s always catered these days. And I really can’t blame them. It seems a little less than fun to fry chicken parts on an 85degree day or any day for that matter.

The feast included sweet tea and enough desserts to bury me in a diabetic coma if I had chosen but no pecan pie. I might be comatose right now if there had been honest-to-goodness pecan pie.

There was bunny bread, overcooked green beans with bacon, mashed potatoes without the skin, and even chicken and dumplings. And dozens of deviled eggs.

My grandmother would have enjoyed competing in the 'Who's-deviled-eggs-(or whatever)-will-be-eaten-and-whose-won’t’ contest that is always understood at these pitch-ins. My grandmother usually finished in the top half of the pack.

The cement block basement echoed with the noise of meaningless small talk and not-that-funny jokes about the food. You know the sort, “Boy, I guess I’ll have to find some room somewhere for desert.” Or some such line about over-eating.

Near the end, the plants and flowers were divided up, extra food taken home or redistributed, and the event becomes, for most of the family, the last memory made at New Hope Baptist Church, Birdseye, Indiana. The church my grandmother attended longer than it was there.

Amy Smith 1915-2010

Church Music

2010-06-03T20:52:00.000-04:00

I had agreed to play the music for Trinity UCC in Jasper, Indiana on Sunday morning, May 30th. It was Memorial Day weekend and the organist was out of town. And her back-up and her back-up's back-up were gone as well.

So, at approximately 8:15am for the first service, I dragged the stool between the two columns of pews on cue from the preacher. I started my first song nervously as there couldn't have been a bigger contrast between me and my 6-string and the piped organ that is usually played. Or the mountain gospel I was about to sing and the Anglican hymns that are usually sung. I don't usually come to the early service, so I wouldn't know anyone besides Chris, the pastor. And the 8 am crowd was generally an older crowd. And perhaps, ‘traditionalists’.
And maybe even, ‘staunch traditionalists’.

So I strummed the first chords and looked up at the banner draped on the facing of the balcony at the back of the church. It read, "Today is a day of new beginnings."

Because I have somewhat of a 'Beautiful Mind' way of thinking and because I also believe Jung did have something in the concept of synchronicity, I relaxed and enjoyed myself.

During the 'Joys and Concerns' part of the service, where church members air either, I was counted a "Joy" by someone I had never met.

But you can never be sure. 'Cause in church, whaddatheygonnado? Boo?

The second service was the same as the first except that my sister was visiting my dying grandmother and joined me for the 'Special Music' song, 'Just a Closer Walk'. She sings beautifully. It was dedicated to my grandmother, who died about 8 hours later.

It was definitely Special Music that Sunday. I hope to remember always to be grateful for these gifts.

After the second service, there were a couple of compliments and it seemed things had went well. I was pleased and also happy that I would be paid for these services. Validations as a musician/performer are few and far between these days.

But I figured that that might have been what the banner was saying, "You get to play more now."

When I contacted Chris two days later about the honorarium, he told me that the committee that decided things met and decided to not just give me an honorarium but to go ahead and hire me because they were that sure that they wanted me back. Maybe doing new and different things as well.

As I wrote the preacher in an email, I have learned to be a little geeked when doors appear. It can be a Big Door, a small door, or a temporary door.

But I have been asking for a door. And clarity to see it.

I got a banner and a sporadic job (my favorite kind).

Interesting.

Cemetery

2007-03-08T11:51:00.000-05:00

I stopped at an abandoned family graveyard. It appeared along some gravel backroads that run through a section of the 'Hoosier National Forest' that Birdseye is nestled in.

There were about 35 headstones and grave markers. All in some stage of decay. The earliest I saw someone buried there was 1843. The latest was 1923. Most had the family name of 'Blunk'.

It looked like there was some attempt to care for it in the last couple of years. Some of the broken headstones were propped against rocks and a few had some plastic flowers. It might be something that was done as recently as last memorial day.

One headstone:

Richard Jones
1832-1883

A loving husband,
A father dear,
A faithful friend,
Lies buried here.

Pole barn

2007-01-14T10:12:00.000-05:00

My cousin and second cousin working on the first stage of a pole barn for his horses.

Pledge

2006-10-24T22:21:00.000-04:00

In southern Indiana, they say the pledge every chance they get.

Pond

2006-10-11T08:05:00.000-04:00

This little pond is on the property of my grandmother. It was dug out by my grandfather as a watering hole for his cows.

I'll Fly Away

2006-10-01T11:24:00.000-04:00

An excerpt of a special music presentation at my grandmother's church on Homecoming Sunday.

The group is called The Path Finders.

Horses

2006-09-21T16:23:00.000-04:00

These are my friends at my cousin's horse farm.

A League of Its Own

2006-08-03T13:30:00.000-04:00

The movie 'A League of Our Own' about a professional women's baseball league began during WWII was filmed at The Huntingburg League Stadium in Huntingburg, IN, about 15 miles from Birdseye.

It is used now by a summer college league that houses its players at different 'host families' in the city.

DemoDerby

2006-08-03T13:26:00.000-04:00

This was the last one second of the demolition derby of the Dubois County Fair. It was main attraction on the last night.

Another Bug

2006-07-30T03:07:00.000-04:00

I'm tellin' ya.

They are BIG down here.

Clogging

2006-07-30T02:48:00.000-04:00

I don't know why this isn't called group tap dancing.

These were three of the eight kids in the clogging group and afterwards, I wanted to tell them it was really cool. I especially wanted to tell that to the girl who really didn't want to be clogging in front of an audience.

But there is nothing reassuring about an unknown old guy coming up and saying something is cool.

But it was.

(Lawn)Tractor Pull

2006-07-29T23:20:00.000-04:00

At the Dubois County Fair, they had an event for people who liked to soup up their lawn tractors and pull things with it.

Interesting.

People mow their lawns all the time here. I think it's their love of riding mowers. I think these lawn tractors are the kings of riding mowers.

Stars and Bars

2006-07-29T12:34:00.000-04:00

Driving around the backroads just outside of Birdseye, I ran into this flag.

I was more than a little nervous taking a picture of this. Seemed like someone flying this flag in 2006 was capable of anything.

Where the Buffalo Roam (but not too far)

2006-07-22T23:29:00.000-04:00

While I was driving on some country road not too far outside of Birdseye, I ran into a farm with some buffalo grazing. Buffalo were so prevalent around here, that they created 'traces' which were turned into roads.

Seems odd, I always thought of buffalo living on the western plains, like the movies. I had no idea that they were wiped out in areas like this as well.

Being ten feet from this buffalo made that seem more personal.

I think I'd like to run into herds of buffalo roaming and stuff.

Bug

2006-06-29T10:40:00.000-04:00

Lots of bugs here in southern Indiana.

Big Bugs.

Soldier

2006-06-29T10:19:00.000-04:00

Last month a soldier from Dubois county was killed in Iraq. His body was transported from the airport in Louisville to his hometown. The route taken went in front of my grandmother's house. There had been a call for people to line the road to honor him. My grandmother couldn't stand by the road, but she sat by her front door for an hour and a half waiting for the procession to pass.

Everyone is hoping this is the last time this happens.

Little League

2006-05-19T22:44:00.000-04:00

The peewee team that my cousin is on has 6, 7 and 8 yr olds. The team is the best in the league(6-0). Last wednesday, they played the worst team (zero wins).

That night, the pitching machine could not be adjusted as well as usual and 14 of the first 15 batters struck out. With two on in the bottom of the 6th (the last inning), my second cousin hit a pit that rolled to the fence and the White Sox won again.

The coach called them over for their postgame huddle and told these kids: "If you play like that on saturday, we will lose." He did not mention my cousin's winning hit or the dramatic victory. He did not buy the frozen koolaid pops that are always given to the team when they win. And what's more, he went over to the parents and told them not to buy the frozen pops either.

I think this guy must have cried when Bobbby Knight was finally fired from Indiana University.

Postscript:
The above story was related to me by a parent who was at the game. Three weeks later, during the championship weekend, I heard him tell his players to "have fun, we just want you to try."

Perhaps people learn.

Maybe one of the kids took him aside and clued him in.

VFD

2006-04-23T10:27:00.000-04:00

The Volunteer Fire Department. I was a little surprised that they still existed. I thought this was clearly the responsibilty of the government. Turns out I was wrong when it comes to very small towns.

For most of Birdseye's history and the surrounding little communities, when a fire started burning, you were left to whatever spontaneous help was available. For this reason, a lot of Birdseye has burned down over the years. It gets rebuilt in one form or another but several old buildings are gone. Such as the Livery, Hotels (there were two), etc.

But about 50 years ago, people around here started to organize a system to respond to these emergencies. I'm told my grandfather and Uncle were two original VFD members and that my Uncle Allen was the chief for several years.

I'm not sure how it worked then but I know that now it works by community people volunteering to go through the same training as paid fire department personnel. They are given pagers and blue lights on their dashboards and when a fire breaks out, they respond when they can. Their training includes Haz Mat, First Responder Emergency Technicians, etc. Same as their paid counterparts.

I used to think I volunteered a lot in my neighborhood back in Detroit.

Private Property

2006-04-13T23:41:00.000-04:00

The above is a small part of one example of how country people got rid of stuff that wasn't burnable. They used part of their land as a dump.

My grandfather used 6-10 parts of his land as a dump. I find anything from the traditional tires to air conditioners to steam irons. Most little piles are not immediately noticeable. They lurk beneath overgrowth on the edges.

The former chickencoop is the most noticeable dumpsite. It has an old water heater, carseat and assorted crap strewn through it's crumbling carcass that disrespect everything that the chickens sacrificed. The shelter is on it's last haunch and dressed in its ragged greenery that almost hides its shame.

Reminds me of Detroit.

A neighbor explained that years ago people felt they had the right to do this because there was no system to deal with garbage and because they owned the property.

Never has it been so clear to me that nobody ever owns property.

Thanks Pop-pop.

Burn Barrels

2006-04-04T20:39:00.000-04:00

I can remember one of the hi-lites of visiting my grandmother and grandfather when I was young was the privilege of burning the garbage. It seemed a serious responsibility that they easily gave and I eagerly accepted. I felt like someone was trusting me with something important and it was fun.

At about age 12, I started questioning this practice in my mind as the garbage included plastic. By age 16, I had accepted the fact that my grandparents weren't perfect and that perhaps I knew something that they didn't but should know. Nervously, I told my grandparents that burning plastic was a bad idea and why.

Didn't seem to faze them much.

But 30 years later, their outdoor brick oven that was used for burning garbage has finally disappeared. Taken to the ground by time and incineration. There is still charred debris settled around the base that was built into the ground. I picked up some of the ash from that era and used it to pack a hole for a post, thinking that perhaps it is best discarded back to the earth. I'm not so sure I did the right thing. And as I write this, I'm more sure it should have gone to the local landfill. But even that doesn't seem completely correct.

The picture above is a blurry rendition of a neighbor burning garbage this past week. It's been illegal to burn garbage for a few years and Dubois County actually had an amnesty program where people could turn in their 'burn barrels' without penalty. But there are people, like my neighbors, who still burn some of their garbage.

It's fairly ironic that one of them works for the county health department.

But even as I write this, I DO remember that I drove to school today...and will drive tomorrow and probably the day after and the day after and...

Pets or Meat

2006-03-20T10:16:00.000-05:00

Okay, the title of this entry is stolen from the Michael Moore documentary.

But it keeps coming back to me every time I see the neighbor's pet deer.

Middle School

2006-03-18T09:27:00.000-05:00

I was teaching at Southridge Middle School in Huntingburg on the last day before Spring Break. The counselor picked names of students that have either had perfect attendance, not gotten demerits or made the honor roll.

In the afternoon, he told me one of the eighth grade girls in my room had won a fishing pole.

The girl amusedly explained that she might not use it very much. The counselor wondered whether she would benefit at all from the prize.

She said she would, just not that much.

I tried to imagine what an eighth grade girl in Detroit would think of winning a fishing pole at school.

Mr. Liles

2006-02-25T00:41:00.000-05:00

I think they didn't capitalize my middle name so I would feel needed.

One Stop

2006-02-17T00:22:00.000-05:00

Every once in awhile, when I buy gas at the One Stop, I give them a dollar and put my name on the list in the notebook at the front counter. Then they buy the number of lottery tickets that got signed up for. Everybody splits the pot if any of the tickets hits.

Nobody puts their phone number except me.

I think it's an interesting community thing.

Pizza!

2006-02-15T21:52:00.000-05:00

This is the Birdseye General Store. The only place in town with pizza to go (no delivery). There is one size and you can have as few or as many of the eight offered toppings as you want. Same price. Only extra cheese costs extra.

Man, that makes sense.

Spelling Bee

2006-01-26T21:49:00.000-05:00

The Dubois County Spelling Bee, sponsored by the Dubois County Herald was held in Dubois at the Dubois Middle School in Dubois County. About 75 parents, grand parents, friends and supporters showed up to watch the competition on a mild Thursday evening in January. Parking was at a premium though as the middle school boys' basketball team competed in another part of the complex.

It took about an hour and 12 minutes to flush out the winner from a field of fifteen middle school girls and boys. The contest was concluded when one of the two remaining contestants fell victim to his own quick-spelling bravado msipelling 'pyromania', which he immediately realized. The young man showed himself to be a class act when he quickly offered congratulations to the winner.

The winner was gracious as well and thanked his mother for her assistance. He prevailed despite having a midspell pause in round seven with 'deserter' and again in round eight with 'winnable', the latter edging toward the time limit before he spit out the second 'n'and finishing ith a-b-l-e to complete the word and ease the crowd's tension. He seemed to settle down from then on spelling with considerably more ease.

The third and fourth place winners went down in round thirteen after the final four had remained standing for six consecutive rounds. The fourth place girl seemed genuinely dismayed at missing her word but the third place girl looked like she might be relieved to sit and therefor cease to be a 'very tall girl' on stage. Her discomfort showed throughout the event as her slumping gave away her all-too-common body image criticism among adolescent girls. She was a good speller though who had pronounced the word 'exhume' in the tenth round notably better than the offical. She also displayed her mental toughness by correctly spelling 'curfew' despite being interrupted by the official in round thirteen.

Among the other runners up there were the two that went down when spelling a word with a letter that jumped out of their mouth before its turn. Perhaps some had just underestimated their competition. And some seemed to have gone into the experience with an ambivalent attitude about being a participant.

All in all the 2006 County-wide spelling bee went off smoothly as the winner enjoyed a $75 prize and an invitation to the next level and the second place received $25. The other runners up were validated with a certificate.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was worth remembering that when someone misses a word they are supposed sit on a chair on the stage. I think all Bee's do this. The first person to miss this particular evening did not follow the etiquette and immediately went to the comfort of her mother's arms in the front row. Fortunately or unfortunately, the second one to miss remembered the chairs on the stage and the rest followed.

I think the Bee officials believe they are being nice to the runners-up.

But, in reality, some who missed words had to wait almost an hour to cry the tears of frustration and disappointment. And others couldn't wait.

Especially when they knew all the words for the rest of the Bee.

(fact-checker's note: All of the numbers are approximations in good faith.)

Jake's Garage

2006-01-18T15:00:00.000-05:00

This is Jake's garage. One day last summer I came to see when I could get an oil change. Jake wasn't there but the garage was open. There was no sign to indicate where he was or when he'd be back.

So I sat down and waited. and waited. expecting Jake to appear at any moment. thinking he was just out for a second. or something. But after 45 minutes, I realized Jake was just gone. for who knows how long.

Where I come from, this is known as 'free tool day'.

RR

2006-01-16T12:20:00.000-05:00

The RR that goes through Birdseye travels between Louisville and St. Louis. It used to stop in Birdseye when it was an up and coming little town with a train depot and two hotels.

Back in those days, it was the custom of the town to greet the 6 pm train when it stopped at the depot. My grandmother said she can remember when she was first old enough to participate (about 82 years ago). People didn't need a personal reason for greeting the train, it was just something everybody did. My grandmother doesn't know why.

She also doesn't know why the train stopped stopping and the hotels are gone.

Sign at the Birdseye General Store

2006-01-13T13:32:00.000-05:00

5 and dimestore

2006-01-12T13:14:00.000-05:00

I found out two weeks ago that the 5 and dime in French Lick, Indiana is closing.

It is/was an honest to goodness five and dime. My uncle got the last chocolate drops they had for my grandmother. She has told me several times that the only candy you could get when she was a kid was stick candy or chocolate drops. Her father would bring them back from his weekly visit to town.

According to my grandmother, Nanny, he often "sold his homemade sorghum out of a 55 gallon barrel from his wagon. People would bring all sorts of containers to buy some from him because everyone knew he was very particular about the quality. The kids, (Nanny included) , would have to go over the stripped sorghum stalks to get the last of the imperfections because you had to do that to get really good sorghum, you have to get every little leaf and imperfection.....

Nowadays, they just put anything in."

Anyway, seems the owners of this little store in French Lick were given an offer by speculators that sounded pretty good. And, since the husband is 71 and the wife is willing to work somewhere else, this seemed to be a good time to sell.

My uncle says that used to be you couldn't give these sorts of buildings away. But now there's some speculating going on, they have bought other properties in the older business section of French Lick. They are counting on the casino, due in a year, to bring property values up.

my grandmother often says, about many situations:

"we have to accept these things"

those chocolate drops were real good though.

picnic

2006-01-11T10:41:00.000-05:00

Summer of 2005, August:

so I overheard that they need help for the Annual Birdseye Picnic benefitting the Birdseye Volunteer Fire Dept. I found the coordinator and explained who my grandmother is and that I'm staying here for a little bit and am willing to volunteer. MaryAnne pulled out the volunteer list and asked my preferences. I had no preferences and so she put me in the raffle ticket booth from 6-8 pm. I almost asked what the procedure would be because I know that when you take money and tickets at Unity in the Community festival back in Detroit, there is a system that involves serious checks and balances regardless of the who you are or know.

I decided to wait until I got to the festival.

I arrived early to buy a chicken dinner and check out the picnic a bit. There, I re-met MaryAnne and let her know I remembered that I was supposed to be there in an hour. After I walk away, I see that she is talking to Pam, who has known me as an acquaintance for 35 years though we have probably never exchanged more than 55 words in that time. I figure MaryAnne is getting a reference which is fine with me.

At 6 pm I arrive to find out what my task is, two other volunteers that I will take over for explain the job to me: Take the money that people give you and put it in this sack or the other. Everyonce in awhile, a guy who is roaming the crowd selling tickets will drop off his money. People can win money or a porch swing built by someone local.

I take over and find out that the raffle drawing is at 8 and I am the last person to man the table. I am the last person that will have thousands of dollars in front of me in a sack with nothing to account for the total except the other half of a ticket stub in a wire barrel. The roaming guy comes over, eyes me and says, "I hear we have someone from Chicago helping us out. Thanks." And then he dumped a couple hundred of dollars on the table.

The reference check had consisted of my word that I was who I said I was and someone's opinion that knew almost nothing about me.

I wanted to tell them: "This is crazy, this is naive. I could just take money and no one would know. Why don't you have a system. For your benefit and mine, should someone decide that I had taken something. You don't know what you're doing...."

I then realized this is how and why pointless bureaucracies are created.

Someone, someday, will come along and 'grow them up' by stealing a bunch of money and they will develop a system and.......

pre-union rural teacher story

2006-01-09T22:39:00.000-05:00

I re-asked my 90 year old grandmother one evening, "Pop-pop worked 45 years as a teacher in Dubois County, right?"

Her reply, "......43........It would have been 45 but he lost 2 years to politics.......the republicans were in office for two years...."

"it was entirely different than it is now.......it was a trustee system......"

"he could have bought himself a school but he knew that was wrong.......so we went without....
those were hard years...."

Prologue

2006-01-09T22:20:00.000-05:00

January 9, 2006- My name is Bruce Liles and I am writing from a little town in southern Indiana called Birdseye. It's in the SE corner of Dubois County about 20 miles from Jasper.

I have begun writing about my experiences and things I hear about while I am here so that more people will know about and care about a little town that is a little part of America that is going away. for better or worse. for whatever reason.

I have yet to settle on a focus or format. my criteria for a post is that I think that it's interesting in some way. to me. or someone. for some reason.

The entries are usually short because I'm not yet a writer who is willing to suffer for his craft.