Sacred hunter

            so fast

                strike me down

       for I am not your equal

A Love Letter To Illinois Part 5

 Continuing with my exploration into one part of my family history and the place it came from, here is an email/comment my Mom posted about her memories of the story.  Since I didn't want it to disappear as a comment, I thought I'd go ahead and make an entry with what she wrote.

Allan,
I wanted to share some more stories of your Great-Grandmother. She was one feisty lady. I wish I had a photo of her. She hated her picture being taken, which I never understood why. She was tall, thin and very pretty. You spoke about the bar that she was killed in front of. I wanted to correct one part of what you wrote. The little boy she pushed out of the way was my cousin Tim, her grandson. The tavern was called Bingo’s. Yes, there was a real man called Bingo. Bingo and his wife lived above the tavern. Getting back to the night my grandmother was hit. My Aunt Joyce wanted to stop by Bingo’s to see if her boyfriend was there. They parked at the gas station across the street (the same gas station where my grandfather worked). When they got out of the gypsy wagon (that is what we called my grandfather’s vehicle, which I will tell you how it got that name later) my cousin Tim ran across the road in front of a Volkswagen Bug. My grandmother ran after him and pushed him almost out of the way, he was clipped by the side of the car. My grandmother was hit full force and thrown quite a distance. People came out of Bingo’s and picked my grandmother up and carried her into the tavern and laid her on a table over Bingo’s protests. Bingo was a family friend forever and I am not sure if he did not want them bringing my grandmother in because she was bleeding or for another reason. I do believe that was the beginning of the end for Bingo’s tavern. People carried my grandmother in over his protests.

I remember the night it happened. I was at my 5th grade roller skating party on Friday night. My friend’s mother came early and told me she needed to take us home. When I walked in the door, my parents were not there, they had been at a holiday get together at my aunt’s. Your Aunt Janet told me to hurry and get some clothes packed. She told me; “Grandma got hit by a car and she is in the hospital.” To say I was shocked is putting it mildly. My parents got home shortly after I did. We loaded up the car and left for the hospital. We went straight to the hospital and my mom and dad told us to wait in the car. The five of us kids sat there for hours not knowing what was going on. You leave five siblings from the age of 11 to 15 years of age you think something is going to happen; a fight, screwing around, anything. Nothing did. We just sat there, not saying a thing. All eyes glued on the hospital door, waiting for any bit of news. I remember my parents coming out, but not much else. What I do remember is my grandmother died on the following Sunday which was Christmas Eve. She was the age I am now, 57 years old.

Little bits and pieces I do remember is my Aunt Joyce getting hysterical and carrying on and my Aunt Mary slapping her across the face. One time when Aunt Mary was visiting us, I asked Aunt Mary why she had slapped Aunt Joyce. She told me Aunt Joyce was carrying on about it being her fault (Aunt Joyce’s) and getting dramatic so Aunt Mary slapped her and said this is not about you.

The funeral service was unbelievable. There were people lined up the sidewalk to attend the service. I knew my grandmother knew a lot of people, I just never knew how many. My grandfather, who I believe was in a state of shock, kept telling people how beautiful her corpse was. We all took it hard to say the least; however, Uncle Bob took it the hardest. My dad had to escort him out he was sobbing so hard.

I cannot tell you how much I loved my grandmother. She just made being at “the farm” the most fun and exciting time in my childhood. I will share some of these memories with you. I feel very lucky that I had the childhood I had. I wish you would have been able to know her and experience “the farm”. You would have loved every minute.

Thanks for sharing your Love Letter to Illinois with me. It made me remember, which is a good thing even if some memories are sad.

From my rotting body, flowers shall grow, and I am in them, and that is eternity.
                                                                                                                       -Edvard Munch

Bali or bust!

After months of talking about it, a sleepless, anxiety ridden night and $1,823.90 I finally have purchased my plane ticket to Bali.  I leave on July 6th, stop over in Taiwan and then arrive in Bali on July 7th.  I return on August 3rd.  That's just shy of a month that I will be spending there.

I have been quite trigger shy about this trip.  First off, this plane ticket is the second most expensive thing that I have ever purchased in my life.  It was hard to spend that much money on a plane ticket.  Secondly, every other time I have traveled out of the country, I have had either a friend, family or solid contact waiting for me on the other side.  This time, I am going it alone.  Finally, I am a bit intimidated traveling somewhere, where my language is not the main language spoken.  This is of course, probably a really important thing for every privileged person to do at some point.

The way I see it, all the fear and anxiety probably means that this will be a pretty amazing trip.  Most things that I have wanted badly to do but have felt fear around, tend to be really important and life changing.  Here's to hoping this trip turns out that way!

Rewilding made simple.

Predators in your backyard

This is a really good documentary on rewilding, which is the reintroduction of top predators to an area to the benefit of the ecosystem.

longtime ago...australia

some old photos from the claypans, alice springs, australia

When good ideas are presented in strange ways Vol.1: Rewilding

Screw cell phones!-Thanks Laura

Those of you who know me, will realize that this is the truest song in the world for me!

Blackfish Trailer

Every Sound Below by Tim Eriksen

One old new moon as sister casts a beam
This newest moon as rock casts only shadow
What speed westward could stop her being
swallowed by the hills?
Which of all the fairest sounds between this
rock and ours cast anything but memory?

Haunted is an easy word for all the moons
and every sound below