Little Egypt Heritage Articles Stories of Southern Illinois (c) Bill Oliver 20 April 2003 Vol 2 Issue: #16 ISBN: pending Good Evening Ladies and Gentlemen of Little Egypt, The mind is a fascinating "thing". Often I cannot remember what I had for Easter Dinner less than an hour later, or the name of a person introduced a few seconds ago. Yet, at times, I will write a sentence, a paragraph even, of something I've read years ago, or replay in my mind, a tune heard hours, days, or weeks ago. While on my way driving to Church last Sunday, I heard a piece of music which blended Bach and Canadian Native traditions. Though I needed to concentrate on my driving in traffic, the piece repeated itself in my head at various times during the day, though the name of the piece, and the name of the performers are gone as if never heard. Last week's article brought back nostalgia of a Northwestern General Store that was still operating in the 1960s in Fulton County, Ohio. A place called Lytton's out beyond St Mary's, but on Road "N". It more than reminded me of a modern day "collectables establishment" ... there was just "everything" there. My two young boys loved to be let loose in there to wonder at all the things stocked. I firmly believe that if you asked for something that would be produced in Central Africa, after a reasonable search the owner would produce it. There were things manufactured by Kosh by gosh, came from Otumwa, Iowa, cheese even from Wisconsin. This building is still standing, but barely, long now closed. I don't believe it is as wide as my house, nor longer than the depth of my city lot. The ancient proprietor probably deceased, though lives yet because I fondly remember. Another fascinating place was the Old Rome Center Country Store near Adrian, Michigan. When our children were first introduced to this place it was a small one room place with old counters and display cases filled with all types of sewing tools and material, as well as, kitchen gadgits. Then, there were all the candy sticks. The room was complete with an old coal stove, a checker board with the pieces made of corn cob slices, cracker tins and pickle barrels. Tucked away on high ground overlooking the remnants of the community of Tunnel Hill, Illinois is a building which I imagine as a stage inn. Across the road, along the low ground, is a row of buildings which would be "main" street. There had to be a general store there somewhere. Though the surrounding homes there are well kept and in mostly modern renovation, the old establishment on the high ground is yearly less recognizable due to the growth of vines and ivy encasing it. I wonder about it each time I return to "home" ground of the BENSONs and HARPERs and OLIVERs. Perhaps, the next visit, I will find someone who will tell me the story of that vine covered building. Meanwhile it is a deceased entity. Speaking of the deceased ..... the talk in my circles lately has been about cemeteries. Since my interest in "fleshing out" old bones is so intense there seems to be a "magnet" effect. Letters have come in telling interesting anecdotal stories. Yet it doesn't end just there. Folks have loaned or recommended books about cemeteries and preserving them and the stones therein. Alex Haley's Pulitzer Prize winning 1976 book, which traced six generations of his ancestry, is credited with encouraging better research methods and standards, as well as, showing new concepts of research. More importantly, it gave good examples of customs. Once we discounted "grave witching" as hooey. My Nebraska cousins taught me not to laugh at that craft and my Nebraska friends taught many of us the rules to the craft a few years ago. This week my Southern Illinois friends reported and sent digitized pictures of a grave witching workshop in Massac County. It is interesting to note that in our history graveyards did not have plot maps with registered burials. Before there could be a grave dug, a grave witching had to be performed so that needless digging could be avoided. Along with those pictures were some others of stone markers with my surname on them. Finally, there were some pictures where the hairs on my arms stood out as if charged with static electricity. The room felt cooler suddenly. The first picture was not taken in a neat, well cared for cemetery. It was a cemetery, for there was a stone marker, but obviously it was in or near a swamp, plus the growth around the stone was in the wild state. There was no immediate explanaaton for the feeling. A few pictures later a rather lengthly explanation accompanied the pictures. This was a cemetery back along CRENSHAW Creek in Massac County, Illinois. Somewhere along where these pictures were taken, my 2nd Great Grandfather walked and worked, and might possibly be buried near by, if not right there. Well, it is quite natural to get goose bumps if an ancestor had a noted demise. This probably would cause a particularly unique grave marker and more paper work to trail, errrr, locate. However, so far we have not located any of that wonderful paper trail or a stone. Burial customs have a reason behind them, albeit, that may be based on a superstition. For example, pall bearers wore gloves. That makes a neat show, however, the custom is based on the superstition that the spirit of the deceased could enter the bearers body through their bare hands. Widow's Weeds [black clothes] were and are worn to make the person less visible to the deceased, thus preventing the spirit from bothering the living. Do you know why one doesn't or shouldn't cut into a funeral procession?? It is so as not to attract the wrath of the evil spirits following the procession. You thought it was just to cause an invonvenience to those who have to wait till the "train" passed. :) Clocks were/are stopped, not only to mark the time of death, but all "life" stopped for the family until after the funeral, at which time, the clocks were started again to symbolize the beginning of the family's life again. A clap of thunder after a funeral indicated that the soul of the deceased was accepted in Heaven. Though there were at least two females who advertised that they "laid out of the dead" prior to 1800, between mid-19th century and our "great 20th-century depression", family and neighbors prepared the body for burial. This preparation consisted of washing and dressing the deceased and "laying it out" for visitors to pay their respects. Our custom of sitting with and viewing the deceased is called "visitation", "calling", "waking the dead" or just the "wake". I'm sure that the last term congers up toasting to the deceased with hard liquor or beer. Well, to be sure, that does happen in many cultures. That is the social part of the funeral activities ... lots of food and "drink". That part of the practice of the wake which was the "watch" was the practice of the practical side of the activities. Besides a genuine fear of being buried alive, there were no screens on windows and doors in summer, with bugs and flies having a natural attraction to the dead, family and friends would perform around the clock vigils to protect the corpses. Even in winter, dogs, cats and rats could be "spoilers". Around the clock vigils also served to watch just in case the "body" woke up asking for something to drink. Well, an "undertaker" is one who undertakes funeral arrangements and that term was replaced by either "funeral director" or "mortician". Mortician, though in use, is not as popular. Funeral Director, on the other hand, is mostly used today. I leave you with this bit of trivia. Have you seen the plumes on the old horse drawn hearses? No plume: deceased was poor. Two plumes: moderate financial circumstances. Three or four plumes: pretty well off. Five to six plumes: deceased was well off. Seven to eight plumes: deceased was most wealthy. Oh, well, who needs plumes? Wado, Bill -=- http://archiver.rootsweb.com/th/index/SOIL http://archiver.rootsweb.com/th/index/ILMASSAC http://www.usgennet.org/usa/ne/state/BillsArticles/LittleEgypt/intro.html