Thursday, August 11, 1983
The Jimplicute, Scott City, MO 63754
always read a chapter from the Bible to my grandmother each day when she came
to visit with us. She was at this time
nearly eighty years old and nearly blind.
She loved to hear the scriptures.
It made me feel very proud when she asked me to read to her from the
Bible. Sometimes she would choose the
chapters for me to read and sometimes she would make the selection. Most of the chapters she chose were long and
being ten years old I was eager to go outdoors and play as soon as
possible. Usually, I would suggest the
sixth chapter of Ephesians to be read as it was short. My grandmother would agree and did not seem
to notice that I read the chapter quite often.
Maybe she did notice but found it amusing that I read the chapter so
often. I learned to love reading the
Bible from her.
grandmother entertained the children in the family with stories and news of our
relatives she had seen lately. My
younger brother would climb up into her lap and ask for a story. She asked him what kind of story he would
like to hear and he would always answer more “bear” stories. When my grandmother began to praise a
grandson (my cousin) I would fee jealous.
I remember her one time I spoke up and told her that I had heard him say
a bad word. Grandmother looked at me
and said, “Now what bad word did you ever hear him say?” I felt very solemn, as I repeated the word,
“dam.” Then she smiled and said, “Why
that is not a bad word. Don’t you know
a dam is a bank of dirt used to hold back high water?” I was disappointed that I had made no
headway in putting him down in her opinion.
My mother in the next room had heard the whole conversation and she
laughed heartily at my embarrassment.
My grandmother laughed the most because she felt like she had won a case
Thursday, August 18,
To the Editor
The Jimplicute, Scott
City, MO 63754
There was a spot on the Mississippi River where “baptizing” was
done. A safe place had been found in
the river where the converts could be put under by the persons standing in the
water. This was beautiful spot as there
was a wooded area back up the bank from the river where the people could have a
basket dinner and talk with all their friends.
When there was a “baptizing”, it was a day of rejoicing for the whole
community. All denominations of
churches would join in the ceremony and anyone who wished to be baptized could
be included. On Baptism Sunday people
came from everywhere; you could hear the wagons rattling down the road from
every direction. Everyone had a big
basket dinner of good eats to share with others. This particular story was told to me by my mother about a
baptismal ceremony she attended. She
smiled every time she told it.
A man had just been baptized and he was so happy that he
shouted, “All my sins have been washed away.”
Someone was heard to say in the crowd, “I thought I saw something
bubbling down the river.” But this really was a day of rejoicing for the crowd
of people were serious about religion and the salvation of anyone brought to
“Chalk Bluffs” as they were called are located between the old
Commerce Road and the Mississippi River.
As a child, I looked at the bluffs and wondered what they were made
of. I asked many questions, but no one
seemed to know much about them. I was
told that a long, long time ago there was an attempt by some persons to make
paint from the materials taken from the bluffs. My husband thought the bluffs could contain silica as he had had
experience working in silica mines and there was a resemblance to that which he
had seen. The chalk bluffs are still
there but no much has ever been learned about them.
Thursday, September 1,
To the Editor
The Jimplicute, Scott
City, MO 63754
When I was ten years old, I took my pencils and papers and went
to sit under the shade of a big cherry tree to write stories and poems. The cherry tree was located in a quiet spot
behind our barn in the middle of the field.
It was there I began doing what I wanted to do more than anything else
in my life – write.
My interest was great in reading stories but I cared little for
the fiction kind; the real life stories were my favorites. Reading was fun, but I wanted to write my
own stories. The stories of early
history in Scott County was more interesting to me. It was under the cool shade of the cherry tree that I began
writing these stories.
One day I decided to send a story to the county newspaper, The
Scott Democrat. As a result, I began
writing a series of stories which appeared in the paper. My mother was very interested in what I was
doing and could hardly wait for each paper to see what I had written. My uncle commented that I was pretty young
to be writing for a paper, but said he liked what I had written. He especially liked a poem.
Years afterward when I was married, my interest was still in
writing about Scott County. I wrote
stories for the Scott Democrat.
Finally, I reached the end of my stories, and Mr. Alden Pinney, the
editor of the newspaper, asked why I had not sent any more stories. I had to say that everything had been told
up to date and I would wait until something else happened.