Wednesday, October 21, 2009
Covered Bridges, Old Houses and a Few Memories
On Tuesday, October 20, my brother and I took a field trip to Ashtabula County. It is the largest county in Ohio, and I think we covered most of it. Ron showed me various houses we lived in. Suffice it to say they were all old, so I will only insert one picture. My Watson grandparents lived in this white house in Saybrook Township. I do remember the enclosed porch on the side of the house. I had to stay with my grandparents at the age of three when my mother had pneumonia. They were nice to me, but I did not enjoy the visit. I guess I missed my Mom.
Next I saw two houses on East 44th Street. I knew I lived on this street, but did not recognize either house. I came home from the hospital to one of these houses. No wonder I did not remember. After this part of the tour we crossed over the longest covered bridge in the United States.
We traveled to Jefferson and watched the ongoing demolition of the Jefferson schools we attended from elementary school on up through the time we left that town in 1955. I wish I could have walked though the building before they tore it down.
We stopped briefly at the Court House, the Jefferson Historical Society and the Congregational Church before joining my school friends for lunch at the Wild Side. It was the same location where I went with my date for toasted cheese sandwiches after dances in the 7th grade. What were my parents thinking? I did not need to be dating in 7th grade - let alone hanging out in a bar. It had a different name then, but still a bar.
The lunch was fun. Ron knew several of the attendees. My friend Donald can tell some pretty funny stories about his escapades. This group of friends meets every month for lunch somewhere in Ashtabula County. I go whenever I can. It is nice they include me as I moved away before high school.
After lunch we took off for Williamsfield. I'm not sure I could find that town again even though I was just there. Ron showed me another old house of ours. We lived there for two years. A chicken pecked my hand in the backyard in Williamsfield. I did not remember the house, but I surely remembered that chicken.
When we returned to Jefferson, we noticed that the Methodist Church was serving a free dinner that day. We thought it would be interesting to see the inside of the church we attended before switching to the Congregational Church. The dinner was delicious, and we enjoyed meeting the pastor. Ronnie pointed out the pew where my family sat. I had a twinge of recognition.
Ten hours after we left on our field trip, we returned to Stow.