Letter to the Editor
The Jimplicute, Scott City, MO 63754
Thursday, August 25
Dear Editor:
The
blackberry season has come and gone, but it brings back memories of a blackberry picking in July 1905 when the
town Fornfelt (Scott City) was called Edna.
Blackberry bushes grew everywhere.
All around town within walking distance you could pick enough berries
for a pie. The favorite spot was a lane
that led to the Krieger farm.
The
weather had been just right that year for the blackberries to grow big and sweet. Almost everyone liked blackberries in pies,
jelly or preserves.
In
my neighborhood, my mother had been talking to the other women there about
going blackberry picking somewhere. One
woman said, �We can�t go to the Krieger lane as there would not be enough
berries for all of us.�
A
man sitting on his porch, heard the women talking, and he wanted to help, so he
offered his team of mules and wagon to go where they could find the
berries. He could not make the trip, so
he said they would have to find a driver.
None of the women wanted to do the driving. I spoke up and said I would do the driving.
I
became the driver. The women, wearing
bonnets, sat down on the floor of the wagon.
I had to stand up to drive. The
mules were old and did not want to move.
Finally, they did go but very slowly.l
We went down the quiet back roads and found plenty of berries. It was a hot and very slow trip but we all
had fun.
We
had picked so many berries that after all the pies, there were plenty of
berries for jelly and preserves. Some
of the women did not know much about jelly making but they tried.
I
remember that although my mother was excellent at making jelly, she had more
berries than she really wanted that time.
Her friend just doubled over as she watched my mother make more and more
jelly to use up all the berries she had picked.
Edna
Drexler
Letter to the Editor
The Jimplicute, Scott City, MO 63754
Thursday, August 25
Dear Editor:
It was a big event! The
year was about 1895 and as a child of five, I wanted to go to the big church
campground meeting everyone was talking about.
Nothing much had happened around me and this sounded exciting.
The religious meeting was interdenominational. Every one around us was talking about how
great it would be to hear preachers from the different churches give their
sermons. It was a big affair, people
would be coming from all around and the meeting would last for two weeks. The place was in the rocky hills near the
Marquette Plant, south of Cape Girardeau � a beautiful place to bring people to
worship.
My mother wanted very much to go to the meeting. I wanted to go with her. Since we were the only ones in the family
that wanted to go, we were happy when her nephew invited us to go with him and
others in his wagon. The wagon had two
long benches in the back which seated five persons to a bench and the driver
with his parents rode in the spring wagon seat. The trip would take about two hours and the roads were
rough. All of us were anxious to go and
thought nothing about the hardships.
We began the trip early in the morning and when we reached the
campground, I was surprised. It looked
like a town. There were tents and
people all over the place. There were
tents for a kitchen, some with long tables and benches for dining and many
tents people had brought to sleep in during the two weeks stay at the meeting.
There were other interesting things I saw there. People were selling and trading things with
each other. You could buy or trade almost anything you could think of. Our driver bought a hunting dog. He tied him to the wheel of the wagon during
the preaching.
My mother had not made the trip very well. It was a rough trip and it had made her
sick. She did not get to hear many of
the sermons. She went to the wagon to
rest and there she had the company of the new dog who was not comfortable
either, tied to the wagon wheel.
The preachers preached.
One sermon after another went on until evening. As soon as one sermon finished another preacher
of a different denomination would begin another one. Then about 10 o�clock our group got in the wagon and went
home. It was about midnight when we
reached our home.
That was the last big campground meeting of that type that I
ever attended, and it is the last I ever heard of being held in the area.
Edna
Drexler
The Winter of �78
To all concerned about their happy days of this past winter as
the days slide into March. Snow, snow
and did it snow this winter! Let�s go
back to the days of Thanksgiving we spent so happily together.
It was a happy time.
All of the family was pleased that I was doing so well and enjoying the
Thanksgiving dinner which my two beautiful daughters had cooked. The marvelous turkey dressing, not stuffing,
that could be anything. This wonderful
dressing was made especially for our family.
Our family members present on this Thanksgiving Day in 1978
were a son-in-law, Jim, one grand son-in-law, Stuart, two gorgeous
granddaughters, Lili and Ann, two daughters, Ruth and Valma, and two wonderful
grand children, Mark and Christine, children of Lili and Stuart.
My beloved and wonderful son, Claude and his wife, Ada, could
not attend the Thanksgiving dinner. We
missed them very much. Mabye, another
time soon we can all be together. We
try to love and treat everyone nice but it is great to have the family together
at times which will always be remembered and the most wonderful times we spent
with the members of the family now passed away years ago.
Love
to all,
Mom