The next Sunday morning my uncle came to help dad work on some hogs.
I watched them from the rafters of the corn crib and ignored Mom’s call for Sunday School and heard her pull out and go on without me. When the men finished and headed for the barn I scrambled down the outside of the corn crib as fast as my sore fingers would let me and ran across the barn lot to the milk shed, climbed up the side onto the roof, up over the top, and through the side door into the haymow over to the ladder opening and down on my belly to watch, because I knew what they were going to do next. When they took a leak in the aisle way of the barn, I modestly drew my head back, knowing at 10 years old that it was a private thing that would never be forgiven if I were caught watching even though dad still lit the lantern and walked to the toilet with me after dark and waitedinside for me. I was not permitted to intrude on his privacy in this matter.
As soon as I heard them stirring again, it was safe because they were on their way to the oats bin to get the fruit jar that was hidden at arms length under the oats just inside the door.
Now I tried the homemade contents of that fruit jar and couldn’t understand why or how anyone, even a man, could stand that taste. So, years later, I still feel the same way about it. I preferred the juice off the fermenting sauerkraut crocks better than that stuff in the fruit jar made from grapes. I was curious to see if they could take a drink without making a face. Neither of them made a face but my uncle let out a moan froma burnt throat and said, “Aaaaahnhh.” I didn’t really intend to hear their words, but yet there wasn’t much way of helping it.
Any movement on my part would have given me away. Now eavesdropping is unforgivable, but tell me where else a 10-year-old kid in 1942 would get information. Today things are discussed openly in front of the kids, but not then.
We all eavesdropped and it was how we knew who was going to have a baby, who was refusing to go to the army, who was cheating on ration stamps and which member of the draft board was crooked. Who was 4-F and why.
We’d have never known these things and since everyone did it, surely nothing was wrong but we also knew if we got caught we would be labeled a sneak and untrustworthy by the adults. In fact, my older sister had already caught me once eavesdropping through the stove pipe holein the upstairs floor over the kitchen and to keep her from tattling (another sin condemned by adults but I couldn’t take a chance) I had to promise to hang every load of clothes on the line, every wash day, the rest of my life. This was one chore she despised, especially in the wintertime.
I didn’t dare be absent from the house on wash day or she would tell on me. Now, I know that is blackmail, but at age 10 it seemed like a fair deal.
Anyway, my eavesdropping that Sunday morning netted me a piece of wisdom that affected my whole life.
My father loved me, and my uncle loved my cousins. And both fathers were concerned about us kids.
To be continued.
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Editor’s note: Edith Lammey has been a resident of the area for nearly 40 years.
The article was originally published April 15,1987, by editor Cal Beisner.
On the Record, Pages 4 on 04/17/2013