I went to a funeral today. He was 92, a fellow who was born in KS and for some reason I never learned, came to Taney County, MO in the 1940s. His name was Bob, William Robert Large, Sr. His wife, who passed away some 16 years ago, was Opal. I don't think I ever knew her maiden name. I remember hearing Opal talking once about how she never knew Bob's age until either the day they married, or some time after...seems he saw her somewhere, and being impressed with her, introduced himself. As they were talking, he asked her age, and when she answered and asked his, he said, "Well, I'm 21 (I think it was), too!" Turned out he was a couple years younger. Opal was a gifted piano and organ player. She played the music for silent movies. I remember visiting their house, and loving to hear the fancy organ. They often let us girls sit at the organ, as long as we didn't mess with it. Bob and Opal had 3 sons. They lived on the banks of Long Creek, if I remember right, in a tent, for several months. Later, they bought land out north of Branson, off'n present-day Bee Creek Road, and farmed. Chuck, one of their sons, talked today about how the boys would have to get up every morning and milk the cows. Bob worked full time for the electrical co-operative, and the boys did much of the farm work. The house they lived in is one of those I wouldn't mind having...matter of fact, I've envisioned the house we're going to build someday as being a great deal like it, on the inside. Old thick wood paneling, a huge screened-in porch, rooms added on, long and narrow, with rock work here and there. Bob and Opal's son John was one of Daddy's best friends. The stories they told on each other...including a new one I just heard today from John's oldest daughter. (John passed away in 1996.) Seems John fainted at the birth of his first daughter. Daddy apparently dealt quite well with it--I presume both of them were in the waiting room--but when the time came for the "father" to get to hold the baby, John was still out cold, so Daddy got to hold her first. Years ago, going down the hill above Bee Creek, John and Daddy were in one of their old cars--probably barely old enough to drive, mind you--John, who was driving, said, "Look at that wheel!" as it passed them, rolling madly down the steep hill. Within seconds, the car "thumped", and John fought to bring it to a stop. I guess one of them walked the rest of the way down the hill to find that wheel, so they could put it back on. John and his family moved to St. Louis in the late 1970s, but he often visited "home." They usually camped out over on Table Rock. One story I heard from Daddy years ago involved a visit he and Mom made out to see the Larges at their campsite. I guess John decided to take a canoe out on the lake, and talked Daddy into rowing a second one along. Something or another happened, and Daddy's canoe capsized. Daddy was a-spluttering, out in the middle of the huge lake. He was hollerin' at John, who inherited his father's deep, booming voice, and John replied, "Joe? You know, I've learned one thing in this life...wherever you are, that's where you are." Daddy made it back to shore okay. Bob and Opal were early members of the Branson Church of Christ. In later years, Bob became an elder, and took his turn to get up and read the announcements on Sunday morning. The first thing he would say on those mornings was, "It's a beautiful day in the Ozarks!" I can still hear his deep voice, and see that elfin grin on his face. It could be 5 degrees out, and still, it was "A Beautiful Day in the Ozarks!" Two sons didn't live in Taney county, and the third attended another church at times, and so I don't guess none of them got to hear him say that. That has become a catchphrase in my family. The first guy who narrowly escaped marrying me, back in 1987, came into the room where my mother and I were working on wedding plans and hollered, "It's a beautiful day in Kansas City!" at the top of his bellow. My mother, who realized I'd told him about Bob, laughed and laughed. Over the years, every so often, I'll just bellow, "It's a beautiful day in the Ozarks!", aware that not many people have any idea of where it comes from. It's a bittersweet thing, for it often requires explanation, especially on days like today (bitterly cold, although the sun shone, and it WAS a beautiful day). My children, who've grown up attending Mom's church and going to see BobLarge (for them, it is one word) and his prized "wiener dogs" (I can't spell dachsund!), are also familiar with Bob's house and some of his phrases. Every so often, the redhead, who seems to find a special bond with older folks, will wake up and come into the kitchen, and say in his deepest voice--"It's a beautiful day in the Ozarks!", and it always floors me. I don't know if he ever got to hear Bob say that at church, for as Bob got older, it became a huge effort for him to leave the house. So now you know why I often say that when I'm posting to the lists. It's not just because I'm a big fan of my hills and hollers--it's bringing back a really great memory of a huge voice--"It's a Beautiful Day in the Ozarks!" Vonda ListMom for MOTaney and MO-AR-WRV http://homepages.rootsweb.com/~moarwrv/ http://freepages.genealogy.rootsweb.com/~gregvonda/