Oh! I know there are others that share my thinking but could it be they are afraid of the “ducking/cucking stool ” which censors our opening of our mouths ( locally and nationally)? As if the bad mouthing, concrete crashing Neanderthals weren’t enough of a deterrent.
I have seen it too many times over the years of advocacy and I seem to have come away from those years half drowned ,soaking wet and getting more and more weary of trying – life here can do that to you. So I now find myself walking away, not raising the volunteering hand – and have left most of the “community” – I just don’t fit in .
As I “escape” from Lorain and the world into the realm Roku watching murder, mayhem and mystery I supplement with programs such as “Escape to the County” and the land of my birth where there are still pockets of the idyll and people looking to find their dream in the country.
It was during one such viewing this morning and the town of Leominister
http://www.leominster.co.uk/ and the story of Jenny Pipes (1809) the last woman to be legally ducked. She pronounced a “scold” by her community and the magistrate passed sentence
“In the common law of crime in England and Wales, a common scold was a type of public nuisance—a troublesome and angry woman who broke the public peace by habitually arguing and quarrelling with her neighbours. The Latin name for the offender, communis rixatrix, appears in the feminine gender and makes it clear that only women could commit this crime.
….. being placed in a chair and submerged in a river or pond. Although rarely prosecuted it remained on the statute books in England and Wales until 1967.
Francois Maximilian Misson, a French traveller and writer, recorded the method used in England in the early 18th century:The way of punishing scolding women is pleasant enough.(ED NOTE spoken like a true man )
They fasten an armchair to the end of two beams twelve or fifteen feet long, and parallel to each other, so that these two pieces of wood with their two ends embrace the chair, which hangs between them by a sort of axle, by which means it plays freely, and always remains in the natural horizontal position in which a chair should be, that a person may sit conveniently in it, whether you raise it or let it down. They set up a post on the bank of a pond or river, and over this post they lay, almost in equilibrio, the two pieces of wood, at one end of which the chair hangs just over the water. They place the woman in this chair and so plunge her into the water as often as the sentence directs, in order to cool her immoderate heat.
Jenny Pipes came back from her ducking still “scolding” and her claim to fame of telling it like it was has outlasted the magistrate. http://www.jennypipes.org.uk/
“the idea of ducking was to curb the tongue of the offender; the ducking to continue until the culprit either gives up or was exhausted”
Of course where there is a pond there is also pond scum and “ducking the scold” does disrupt that “gathering and rising to the top” if only for a little while. I have noticed the pond scum usually multiplies!
I have seen the “cucking stool” happening (metaphorically speaking) locally so many times and THAT Lorain is one of the problems and the why the view we have is of this (rehabbed????) “cottage”
To those who have been ducked, and lived to walk away and tell the tale _ you will be missed by those that got wet with you
-to those that have returned to the bank of the pond to join the crowd – it is understandable-
-to those that keep trying -may it only be your feet getting wet…..
for those of you still “piping up’ like Jenny Piper and facing the wrath of the duckers and the chair I will have a towel waiting for you and a different sort of chair in front of the TV!
It is snowing – probably more snow falling in the last 24 hours than we have had all winter. I knew the 65 degree February days were just teasing us into a false sense of spring. The wind and snow have blinded the view from the den, my eyes can only see the trees and garden, dancing white swirls blocking the ugliness of reality for just a brief while. I honestly don’t know where the hours days weeks and months have gone since you died -they seem to have disappeared or not been lived. I am constantly surprised when seeing the date or year number.
After you died I spent the days “preparing” – I cleaned out closets, threw away things that wouldn’t mean anything to anyone but me. I prepared the house and my life for my death. You see, I really believed I would not be able to live with this gutting grief and yes physical pain. I was sure I would join you before 6 months was out. That didn’t happen, I am still here on yet another March the 3rd along with an aching coldness that will not pass even in summer…….
The closets have acquired more “stuff”, the house- which I had decluttered became even more cluttered when Nana came to live and I had to put 6 rooms of her “stuff” into this house. Life and clutter carried on to the point there will be more to deal with in this house than before.
Then with all the talk of “government” and “immigration” the wondering hit me-
just what did I do with my citizenship papers , passport etc
I knew I had put them safe somewhere . The strange thing about having a brain in pieces parts , divided up, one part living in 2009- the part that functions independently of my consciousness – the sleeping brain, that doesn’t -that bleeds over into mornings so another part has to decide
is that a memory , did that happen or was that the part of my brain trying to sort through the clutter?
the regular daily functions, we all experience, gets lost somewhere along with the happiness part – which sometimes does make an appearance. In all this brain clutter I couldn’t remember , for the life of me , where these very important papers ended up. The problem was neither could your father, we are both on “automatic pilot brain function” most of the time.
As we searched the probable places , I purchased a fire proof lock box for these items, your nana’s important papers and dad’s. Your dad informing me we had two lock boxes in the basement , which he couldn’t find . I had visions of us running from the upstairs to the basement and den in an emergency trying to find lock boxes and Nana’s important stuff, dads “stuff” and mine, No! I had to gather all this “stuff” together for my sake and whomever was eventually going to have to sort through them .
Finally we did find the papers and files. I started to go through them and realized I was sorting my life– my birth certificate, baptismal, marriage certificate, passport, citizenship papers ,social security, mortgage papers, Nikki’s birth certificate and then your birth certificate, baptismal, social security card, graduation … your life papers came to the top of the pile . My brain overloaded- stopped holding back the walls dividing memories, grief, happiness, laughter reality and memories, anger ,pain, loss of hope- the good and the bad and yes the ugly- lessons learned , lessons unlearned all spilling out of the “hoarding” in my mind.
I never realized how hard this “preparation” would be – it seemed so simple to transfer those items and yet I should have known, been prepared. Nana came down with her “life ” to be added to the box and I could see she also had been on a journey as she sorted through –
“Oh! Loraine don’t ask me to do that again, that was a very difficult afternoon- it was so hard as the memories wouldn’t stop coming …………….
I love you Chris and I wish I could touch your face, hear your voice, and forget the clutter that is now me………
February– who knew there would be a window of weather where those who volunteer for the areas known as “Settlers’ Watch”,
Admiral King Tribute Site
PHOTO Lisa Miller
Eric Barnes Heroes Walk
could get out in the sunshine and do some maintenance.
This is a very large area- Three completely different “honorings” of Lorain’s heroes – military, pioneers and her history. It takes a great deal of work to maintain and if I am honest more than I thought it would take.
It is something the powers that be should remember when the come up with grandiose ideas of – this and that locally- all well and good to have the grand openings etc BUT maintenance is the key to all things – from streetscapes, potted palms, to housing and buildings.
If you haven’t walked the walk ( in more ways than one) you will see over the past few years there have been, so many rose beds, perennial flowers, shrubs, trees, and secret gardens added
May and June literally burst forth with fragrance and color. However, it takes a huge amount of love and effort to keep this area in the “oldest neighborhood” ticking over.
The additions , the repurposed the plants and trees donated
ALL take maintenance, talk and more talk and meeting just doesn’t cut it. The little lighthouse shed lost some shingles over the winds in January. The flags put out to honor were looking forlorn . Seeing a break in the weather the littlest volunteers ( who take this job very seriously) and old ( er) granddads took on a task .
whose truck is that anyway????
There is a great deal to do everyday when the weather gets warm- Will you consider spending a day “honoring” – weeding , raking ? CVSI is always looking to add to our volunteers to walk the walk not just talk the talk………
To be continued……….
Or one woman’s plumpness- one woman’s memories
Sunday found me making a Spaghetti Bolognese for myself- mum can’t abide spaghetti and my husband likes more “American” style ( bring on the Prego) so as I was cooking ground beef anyway I decided on an individual “spagbol” lunch
I was transported back through time to a little Italian Café in London’s Soho . I was in one of my first jobs ( I used to go through jobs like chickens wings at a Super Bowl party) It turned out one of my friends was also working in the area so we used to pool our Luncheon Vouchers for lunch – For those that are unaware of a Luncheon Voucher – outside the UK
“luncheon voucher is a voucher for a meal given to employees as an employee benefit, allowing them to eat at outside restaurants, typically for lunch. In many countries, meal vouchers have had favorable tax treatment. Vouchers are typically in the form of paper tickets.”
The proprietor could not help but be dismayed as to the way we ate his
“spaghetti” ( We used to use a knife and fork and cut it) One day, he could stand it no longer and promised if we tried to eat our pasta the proper way ( which he would demonstrate) until we mastered the skill he would not charge us for our meal. Needless to say it took weeks 😉 We progressed from cutting to using the fork and spoon method to finally the twist and twirl without slurping up errant strands or slavering sauce down our chins. I then changed jobs again and could no longer get my free meal .
Food always the comfort and I have realized when “cooking- ( sometimes successfully sometimes not so successfully I equate the dishes with people and memories .
My mum during the war was part of the rationing generation. Having to stock up and make things last has stayed with her and 75 years later she still stockpiles as evidenced by my cupboards “just in case”. Mum can make a roast last for three or more meals.
Roast on Sunday– http://www.telegraph.co.uk/food-and-drink/recipes/the-ultimate-sunday-roast/ followed cold meat and bubble and squeak- shepherd’s pie and Cornish pasties and then if any is left over we have mince. I will say now she will make the items to freeze so we don’t have to eat them all at once. However, she has decided at her time of life that she hates leftovers so I am left with eating all the leftovers. ( sigh)
My husband on his ranting about our cooking with butter will not eat what we eat. Unhealthy!!!!! – mind you HE is the one with the stents and cholesterol – seems according to the heart Dr. and our Dr. when I asked how could he ,with his horribly healthy diet, have blockages “food consumption only affects cholesterol 3% – 20% –
this writing is making me hungry for a sticky toffee pudding
and that reminds me of the Goring Hotel London http://www.thegoring.com/ and Cousin Pat.
My memories are everywhere in this kitchen making strong tea and thick toast and butter with chunky marmalade – My Auntie Ethel and a little cottage in Lincolnshire .
Baked potatoes – my childhood ( and I have never had baked potatoes since that were so good ) and cocoa coming in from Guy Fawkes Night and the chill in the air to Mrs. Cushing’s lovely warm kitchen( London England) – ( my cousin’s paternal grandmother) She of the white hair and cherubic face – she should have been a model for the ultimate Mrs. Clause .
Chocolate Chip Cookies ( the best) and Lemon Meringue Pie http://www.bbc.co.uk/food/recipes/marys_lemon_meringue_pie_02330 will take me back to the 7th grade and New Brunswick Canada when a young teacher ” Miss Calder” came to live with us.
Pavlova – http://www.bbcgoodfood.com/recipes/711658/strawberry-pavlova I can’t say I, or even my mum, have been successful in making the perfect Pavlova but as we try memories of Susan’s Pavlovas , Sunday afternoon tea time complete with her spread of new potatoes sliced ham and salad spread before us Ipswich, Suffolk England .
http://www.jamieoliver.com/recipes/beef-recipes/steak-and-kidney-pudding/ Steak and Kidney Pudding -well that would be my own Nana ( on my mum’s side) when she lived with us in South Harrow Middlesex England – she had long white hair she used to pull up in a bun and the brightest blue eyes- she had a hard life and was nearly killed being strafed by a German flyer during WW2 as she was collecting wood.
But figs, dates, pomegranates,
chocolates and wonderful fresh cream cakes and éclairs from the bakery – cheese and watercress sandwiches was my more wealthy grandmother on my father’s side – It as all very exotic in her home silks and fringes an Aladdin’s cave to my eyes. The home of “children should be seen but not heard in Hendon England
Cooking egg and chips http://www.deliciousmagazine.co.uk/recipes/the-ultimate-egg-and-chips/ takes me back once again to being a little girl and sharing Saturday night tea time with the Braynes in South Harrow, Aunt Lilly’s lovely fairy cakes which I have never managed to make successfully bring such happy innocent times.
Cooking the “English Breakfast”- Dusseldorf Germany and my Uncle Austin running along the Rhine embankment with pennies in my hand to buy sweeties from Frau Bloomers sweet shop.
Chocolate Gateaux http://allrecipes.com/recipe/8095/black-forest-cake-i/ I make a fairly decent Chocolate Gateaux – memories of Nikki as a two – year old and the Mohne Dam of Dambusters fame Germany https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/M%C3%B6hne_Reservoir
and her insistence she be allowed ‘gatoes” before she would eat a sandwich! and my cousin John
From Germany back to England and Devon Cheese and Onion pie http://www.bbc.co.uk/food/recipes/cheeseandonionpie_89625 gracing cousin Dawn’s table at the farm. The table used to fair creak under the weight of all the dishes – How much fun I had riding the tractor over the fields to the pub- my husband playing darts in the Cider Shed getting blotto.
Not all food brings back pleasant memories – the smell of creamed corn turns me into a puddle of nerves and tears. Hopefully none who read this ever have to go through a stem cell transplant the smell of the preservative used in the gathered stem cells stinks like creamed corn. The odor permeates everything including my brain and takes me to a time of hope and hell with my son Chris. You won’t find creamed corn here in this house.
Another banned from memory and kitchen food is Christmas Pudding http://www.bbc.co.uk/food/christmas_pudding I make a mean Christmas Pud but no longer – because the memory of Chris ‘s job of always lighting the pudding can’t be replicated and only mum and I ate it anyway – the memory still too raw……..In fact our previous traditions when it comes to celebrating have been exchanged for new ones .
Chris – whose love of lobster and shrimp is always celebrated on special occasions – the lobsters in the pot bearing the names of those evil and wicked individuals who have added nothing but terrible negatives to our lives.( Good job I am not Elizabeth the 1st). He and Jim wiping out the buffet of seafood at the Bomber Squadron Cleveland Ohio.
Yes food for thought and cooking the food of comfort – as the memories come flooding in so do the calories. Yes! you can gain weight just by going down memory lane and find yourself all over the world. ……….
There are over 1,500 posts on this site now. Some are more popular than others. Searches are driven by information on particular subjects and some by images that have been uploaded to the internet. There is one post that ranks above all the rest everyday, it is the first in ranking bringing in thousands of hits in any month since it’s inclusion in 2010 . It is the photos included in the post that drives the traffic .
I am not sure how you would feel about this “still life” for classwork (?)2003 as having been interesting to so many every day since I first uploaded it . The work was not included in my collage of you or even in the “art show” . I am not sure what the message was if any – just a classwork assignment????? – but it has a following every single day and seemingly the most popular of any of the jpgs I use of yours with nearly every post.
I watched a commercial for Poo- pourri and thought well maybe you were before your time
So many times I have wished I could ask you why or what when looking at your work and so many time each day I miss your humor as I watch this world spinning into chaos and justice fleeting. I wonder what you would say about the current political situation, how you would express visually all that I cannot put into words………..I love and miss you more each day………
Part Seven https://thatwoman.wordpress.com/2017/01/24/lorain-history-mystery-her-name-was-clara-pt-7/
Part Eight https://thatwoman.wordpress.com/2017/01/25/lorain-history-mystery-her-name-was-clara-pt-8/
ED NOTE Please click on any of the photos to enlarge
The consensus of opinion is the pages found tucked away on top of the beam in the basement of 212 W. 18th Street are in all likelihood the writings pertaining to a “novel” or story. Clara, a character in a writer’s fertile imagination. The research turned up similarities of place names but nothing that could be traced either in Lorain or in Oklahoma. Just the intriguing Lorain Lumber letter head
However, we were able to track the history of the home – and the family that probably built it “The Greggs”. Renee Dore and I were fortunate to have spent a lovely afternoon on Thursday with Mrs. Margaret Gregg. This gracious lady allowed us to look through family photos and documents to see if we could unravel just who may have been the author of the pages.
The Gregg family has a long history in these United States, one of the documents from the Gregg family was a completed family tree from the 1930’s. The family traced its roots from Ireland and eventually to arriving in the “colonies” along with the group accompanying William Penn. http://www.ushistory.org/penn/bio.htm
A quick search found
Thomas Coulson Gregg born in 1794 and deceased in 1878 in Belleville Ohio –
His son William Alan Gregg born 1823 -1873 also from Belleville
However it was his son Emmett Gregg who was born in 1860 in Belleville but eventually found his way to Lorain where he passed in 1938.
Photos scanned from the original tintypes
Why Emmett and Barbara ended up in Lorain is anyone’s guess but more than likely came for employment.
Was this the dwelling shown in 1900 Sandborn Fire Map? When we spoke to Margaret Gregg she remembers the home was added onto ( or possibly rebuilt??) early on .
In June 1905 according the Sanborn maps more changes had been made – it looks like the garage ( outbuilding) had been added.
1905 Sandborn Map
What we do know is that by 1910 the footprint had changed again
1910 Sandborn Map
The 1918 Sandborn Fire Map and 1926 through 1940 see minor changes
1912 Tax Map for the city we have Emmett and Barbara Gregg listed as the owners of the property.
Emmett and Barbara had a son George in 1882 he passed in 1947
George married Cora (Dyce) who was from Florida –
Cora followed her husband George back to Lorain and back to 212 18th Street. Cora was exquisite- the head and shoulders shot ( complete with Marcel Wave hairstyle) from the family album shows such. Unfortunately, we were scared to remove the photo from its folder due to the condition of the album fearing we might do damage . We do have a picture of her with her young son Donald ( Margaret’s eventual husband ) in 1932/3
George and Cora ( thanks to the research by Rick Kurish) listed themselves in the 1930 census as to their occupation as Lecturer in a Traveling Show.
Audience photo source River Time Players
These shows were extremely successful in the US and elsewhere .George and Cora it seems were quite the artistic couple – a life of audiences and stories . George seen here posing was quite the “dapper” gentleman
The vocation of George and Clara also is confirmed by family history. George and Cora were heavily involved with the Circus and Traveling shows of the 20’s and thirties . Margaret told us that Cora would love to tell how she had visited all 48 states and the provinces in Canada.
Don’t I wish I could talk to Cora of those days?
However, back to the pages and the mystery as to the author. Margaret, Cora’s daughter -in- law, doesn’t remember anyone ever mentioning anything like the story or writing .
Renee and I sat on the couch and poured over old writings, photos and family papers hoping to find a similarity in the penmanship.
Cora’s hand was very different to the hand that wrote the pages. Just when we felt all was lost we came across another picture of Cora – The Florida girl and the snow circa 1927
It was with a great deal of excitement we found written on the back of the photo
“It took as great deal of coaxing to get the Florida Girl to sit right down in the snow for this picture but she did”
And there is was the same handwriting as the pages, comparing the style of the words to those of the delicate pages, the “d’s” the a’s the I”s the B’s the “she” and the girl with the capital G- there was no doubt the writer of the pages was the same person as the writer on the back of the photo.
The conclusion was reached by myself, Mrs. Margaret Gregg and Renee, after comparing writing styles , the writer was not Cora but Barbara Gregg. Cora’s mother – in- law.
Barbara Gregg passed away in 1937 – was that the reason we will never know who murdered Bob Sandford? What was the rest of Rose Flemming’s story? Who was Clara and what was her mother’s secret? . Why were the pages tucked away all those years ago? We will never know unless somewhere in that old house there are other pages.
Barbara Gregg’s pages have now been published , the story forever on the internet , her life and times documented and along with her writing has taken us all on a “history tour”
Many thanks to the Gregg family for their permission to continue the story, the photos and a special thank you to Margaret Gregg who was so charming and helpful.
And a thank you to Dennis Flores , who showed up at my door with a file of very, very special writings.