REMEMBER WHEN…
Brenda Kellow
June 5, 2011
These days everyone is busy. We don’t take the time to listen to the stories our elders tell us. Oh, we hear, we just don’t listen. For those who have actually listened, recorded, or written them down, sometimes those stories bump their way into our lives today.
I had such an experience. Daddy used to tell me stories about tricks his brothers used to play on each other. Some were a bit over the top, but I don’t doubt they really played those pranks on each other. These stories always began, “I remember when…” or “Once when…”
Daddy grew up in the vicinity where I now live. Often his stories were about fishing—his favorite hobby second only to hunting. With his accurate eye and his trusty 12-guage shotgun, he could see and shoot a squirrel in a tree that I only saw just before he shot it. Sometimes I didn’t see it until it fell. On other occasions, he would hunt for doves during the season. Daddy always cleaned, dressed and refrigerated whatever he brought home for Mother to prepare for our dinner. We always ate the squirrels for dinner with biscuits and gravy. I remember eating the doves, but I don’t remember what Mother served with them. Most likely, it was some form of potato and other vegetables from Daddy’s garden.
Daddy told me stories about finding snakes in the pastures and woods located in the bottomlands of East Fork, present day under Lavon Lake. I remember stories about coach whip snakes, rattlesnakes, hoop snakes, moccasins and so on. His stories always fascinated me but were creepy to my mother who had a fear of snakes. Growing up in town when Plano only had about 4,000 people, I never expected to see these snakes, but I thought the stories were interesting.
Five years ago, we moved to the area where both my parents grew up. In fact, I live on a farm that has been in the family since about 1880. Every time we see a skunk, coyote, possum or armadillo, it brings back memories of some of Daddy’s stories.
Recently, I saw a coach whip in my flowerbed. I was turning my back to walk into the house when I saw quick movement in my low growing ruellia, commonly called Mexican petunia. About the time I realized movement behind me I saw the snake raise its head and the front part of its body about 16 inches off the ground, but it was not looking in my direction. Rising up like that reminded me of a cobra. The snake was intent on catching the frog sitting on my driveway. Fortunately, for the frog, the snake darted back into the flowerbed as soon as he detected my presence. I was certain this was a coach whip snake in Daddy’s stories. I verified this online.
Those memories flooded my conscience again when I saw my nephew trying to kill a snake on the brick steps. I watched as the snake bobbed back and forth. I had never seen a snake open its mouth as wide as it did. Inside the mouth was snowy white. I had never seen a cottonmouth except in pictures.
Sunday I walked out on the patio to get a little sun and read. At the foot of the chair I usually sit in was a little dead snake about six to eight inches long. I’m sure it met its demise by encountering the edger. It had a sharp nose and tiny little rattles on its tail that my cousin identified as a ground rattlesnake. I don’t remember Daddy ever mentioning this kind of snake, but my husband had seen them in Florida.
As I write this column about memories that contained snakes, I have to look around where I sit in my office to be sure there isn’t another snake in my office. Yes, inside the house. Last November after working on the computer for about two hours one morning, I reached to open my shades and found an eastern diamondback warming in the sun at the back of the shades. Its head was bobbing but it did not attempt to strike even though my leg was only about one inch from its mouth. My cousin saved the day by killing it for me.
This town girl had never seen any kind of snake other than a green grass snake until I moved to the country. Had I realized there were snakes and spiders I doubt I would have moved out here. I’ve told my children about the snake in my office. Now, it is one of their memories: “Remember when Mom found the snake on the window sill in her office?”
Brenda Kellow has a bachelor's degree in history, teaches, and lectures on genealogy. Before retiring to publish her family’s histories in 2007, Brenda held certification as a Certified Genealogist and as a Certified Genealogical Instructor. Send reunion announcements, books to review, and genealogy queries to: [email protected].
I had such an experience. Daddy used to tell me stories about tricks his brothers used to play on each other. Some were a bit over the top, but I don’t doubt they really played those pranks on each other. These stories always began, “I remember when…” or “Once when…”
Daddy grew up in the vicinity where I now live. Often his stories were about fishing—his favorite hobby second only to hunting. With his accurate eye and his trusty 12-guage shotgun, he could see and shoot a squirrel in a tree that I only saw just before he shot it. Sometimes I didn’t see it until it fell. On other occasions, he would hunt for doves during the season. Daddy always cleaned, dressed and refrigerated whatever he brought home for Mother to prepare for our dinner. We always ate the squirrels for dinner with biscuits and gravy. I remember eating the doves, but I don’t remember what Mother served with them. Most likely, it was some form of potato and other vegetables from Daddy’s garden.
Daddy told me stories about finding snakes in the pastures and woods located in the bottomlands of East Fork, present day under Lavon Lake. I remember stories about coach whip snakes, rattlesnakes, hoop snakes, moccasins and so on. His stories always fascinated me but were creepy to my mother who had a fear of snakes. Growing up in town when Plano only had about 4,000 people, I never expected to see these snakes, but I thought the stories were interesting.
Five years ago, we moved to the area where both my parents grew up. In fact, I live on a farm that has been in the family since about 1880. Every time we see a skunk, coyote, possum or armadillo, it brings back memories of some of Daddy’s stories.
Recently, I saw a coach whip in my flowerbed. I was turning my back to walk into the house when I saw quick movement in my low growing ruellia, commonly called Mexican petunia. About the time I realized movement behind me I saw the snake raise its head and the front part of its body about 16 inches off the ground, but it was not looking in my direction. Rising up like that reminded me of a cobra. The snake was intent on catching the frog sitting on my driveway. Fortunately, for the frog, the snake darted back into the flowerbed as soon as he detected my presence. I was certain this was a coach whip snake in Daddy’s stories. I verified this online.
Those memories flooded my conscience again when I saw my nephew trying to kill a snake on the brick steps. I watched as the snake bobbed back and forth. I had never seen a snake open its mouth as wide as it did. Inside the mouth was snowy white. I had never seen a cottonmouth except in pictures.
Sunday I walked out on the patio to get a little sun and read. At the foot of the chair I usually sit in was a little dead snake about six to eight inches long. I’m sure it met its demise by encountering the edger. It had a sharp nose and tiny little rattles on its tail that my cousin identified as a ground rattlesnake. I don’t remember Daddy ever mentioning this kind of snake, but my husband had seen them in Florida.
As I write this column about memories that contained snakes, I have to look around where I sit in my office to be sure there isn’t another snake in my office. Yes, inside the house. Last November after working on the computer for about two hours one morning, I reached to open my shades and found an eastern diamondback warming in the sun at the back of the shades. Its head was bobbing but it did not attempt to strike even though my leg was only about one inch from its mouth. My cousin saved the day by killing it for me.
This town girl had never seen any kind of snake other than a green grass snake until I moved to the country. Had I realized there were snakes and spiders I doubt I would have moved out here. I’ve told my children about the snake in my office. Now, it is one of their memories: “Remember when Mom found the snake on the window sill in her office?”
Brenda Kellow has a bachelor's degree in history, teaches, and lectures on genealogy. Before retiring to publish her family’s histories in 2007, Brenda held certification as a Certified Genealogist and as a Certified Genealogical Instructor. Send reunion announcements, books to review, and genealogy queries to: [email protected].