Little Egypt Heritage Articles Stories of Southern Illinois (c) Bill Oliver 7 September 2003 Vol 2 Issue: #32 ISBN: pending Good Evening Ladies and Gentlemen of Little Egypt, Anyone living seven decades can expect to pick up the local newspaper and read obituaries of folks one knows. But it is those "special" ones that bring forth the most wonderful of memories. Last week it was Grandma ‘Bobbi', and this week it is ..... Back in some dark age when I was yet an Elementary School Principal, I had the honor and distinct pleasure of knowing a tremendously fascinating and talented woman violist that played with the Chicago Women's Symphony and the Toledo Orchestra. She truly believed that music [through Mozart and Beethoven] could calm the savage beast, man, and particularly children. We attended church together for many years, but it was in her role of loving children so much that I loved her best. She would bring her instrument to not only "my" school but schools all over the area to talk and demonstrate music to children. This Grand Lady studied and practiced all her life. There was always more to learn. She taught Suzuki Method and even traveled to Japan to study under Shinitfchi Suzuki himself. When I cross over I look forward to hearing her music and tasting the wonderful vegetable soup made from her own gardens at some future time. Kay, Kathleen THOMPSON Harbaugh [March 12, 1917 -- September 2, 2003], you have earned your rest. [for those who knew her -- obit located at <http://www.toledoblade.com/apps/pbcs.dll/classifieds?Category=CLOBITUARIES> Not to, at all, be insensitive to the present, yet during this morning's church music, the violin notes I heard were Kay's ... I was truly remembering her rendition. Thursday immediate, the Wizard of ID comic strip featured a woman who asked the Funeral Director if her husband could be buried in a ‘basket". One can take the pun several ways, but the one that first came to my mind was "going to Hxxx in a handbasket". Our word for coffin comes from the Greek word Kophinos [cough-in-ohs], which means "basket(s)". Woven plaited twig baskets were used by the Sumerians about 4000BC to inter their dead. Why, you ask did coffins ever become the norm for burial? Well, it is thought that fear was the motivator ... fear of disease and fear of the dead themselves. Drastic measures were taken to prevent the dead from haunting the living. They removed the head and limbs [at least the hands and feet] after binding the body. Tradition says that round about routes were taken to the gravesite so that the dead couldn't find their way back "home". You talk about raising the dead ... special holes were cut in homes to remove the body; six feet under was considered a safe depth; and coffins were an extra precaution; but "nailing down" the lid was a clincher. What, no combination locks? This didn't end it ... often very heavy stones were placed on top of the coffin for insurance. Is that where the idea of tombstones came from? And, of course, one didn't go near graveyards, after all they were "haunted". Our Aunt Eddie and Grandma Lester taught us that picnics among the haunted were great fun. For one thing we were never disturbed by the living. And, many a smile has been provoked by words written in stone. One of the most memorable occasions for my family was the graduation weekend that our oldest received his sheepskin in Moscow, Idaho. That weekend in May, 1980, Mt St Helen decided to blow her top. Before noon, on that Sunday, the sky was black and the cows were confused. We went out to lunch and drove to several cemeteries. In order to read stones we used matches, lighters and what batteries we had in pocket flashlights. Speaking of flashlights, remember sleep overs and campouts? Putting flashlights under your chins to make weird faces. Do you remember how the noises changed when the light went out of the sky? Those friendly little ‘varmits' of the daytime had nocturnal counterparts. In the still of the night these scurryings sounded like huge monsters crashing the forest. These noises and strange lights were hard to ignore and they made for great story-telling. On a scout camping trip another leader and myself decided to take a midnight walk through the woods. We were absorbed in identifying the sounds we heard ... bull frogs, crickets, doves, an odd owl. We had walked for about an hour when we heard some heavy breathing and snorting. It sounded big because the sound was coming at the same level as our heads [or there ‘bout]. By the volume it had larger nostrils than ours. We couldn't identify it at all and our curiosity was greater than our sense. We moved some branches aside and we saw two huge eyes staring back. To this day we haven't the slightest idea for sure what that "monster" was, but we sure had fun in later years telling that tale. Oh, yes, well, we did turn and walk away hoping with every step that whatever it was didn't charge us. <hugegrin> Do you like ghost stories? Here is one from the University of Nebraska at Lincoln: <http://www.geocities.com/katherinenabity/ghosts.html> and, <http://www.webspawner.com/users/nebraskashauntedcoll/> Now, most of my kin would say that such "haints" were but the imagination of a troubled soul. They say that there are natural explanations for ghost stories. e-la-di-e-das-di ha-wi nv-wa-do-hi-ya nv-wa-to-hi-ya-da. (May you walk in peace and harmony) Wado, Bill -=- Other sites worth visiting: 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