Oh Ruth, I've never heard of an Alumni Parade but what you described sounds so special and "down-home-ish." The best that we could manage in Niagara Falls was a huge class reunion of all graduates of Niagara Falls High School no matter what year they graduated. It took place maybe 15 or 20 years ago and was put together by the City of Niagara Falls in celebration of some anniversary. There was a huge turnout of all ages and I remember that several from our class was there. In fact, we had searched each other out and sat in a nice group. It was such a large turnout that it had to be held in the convention center. It wasn't as wonderful as attending our own class reunion but it gave us a sense of being one of many generations of NFHS graduates. vee ----- Original Message ----- From: "Ruth Barton" <mrgjb@sover.net> To: "Vee L. Housman" <housman@adelphia.net>; <NYNIAGAR-FOLKS-L@rootsweb.com> Sent: Tuesday, June 14, 2005 8:07 PM Subject: Re: [FOLKS] Our 50th High School Reunion > It's Reunion Season once again and here, in southeastern VT, that means > Alumni Parade. I don't know if they do these anywhere else but I was told > once that they are only held here. I know of three schools that have > them. > We have a big parade through town on Sunday afternoon after graduation. > Any class that wants to can have a float, ride in cars, whatever. It > starts with the oldest class and ends with the new graduates in their caps > and gowns. Usually the 5 yr classes, at least, have floats unless it is > the early classes then usually some group with old cars will volunteer to > drive them. > > This year is my Dad's 70th year out and my 45th. I'm not sure if I'm > taking Dad for his reunion banquet or not, but I'm going to mine on Sat > nite. Don't think I'll be dancing though. Ruth >

It really wasn't very nice of them not to tell you that they had appointed her and not to introduce the two of you. Ruth At 12:55 AM -0400 6/14/05, Vee L. Housman wrote: >Dear Folks, > >For some reason tonight I felt that I really needed to touch base with my >new Deputy Town of Porter Historian, Rosanne. You see, even though she was >appointed to the position this past January, no one ever told me about it on >an official basis. I had to hear about her on an informal basis. -- Ruth Barton mrgjb@sover.net Dummerston, VT

It's Reunion Season once again and here, in southeastern VT, that means Alumni Parade. I don't know if they do these anywhere else but I was told once that they are only held here. I know of three schools that have them. We have a big parade through town on Sunday afternoon after graduation. Any class that wants to can have a float, ride in cars, whatever. It starts with the oldest class and ends with the new graduates in their caps and gowns. Usually the 5 yr classes, at least, have floats unless it is the early classes then usually some group with old cars will volunteer to drive them. This year is my Dad's 70th year out and my 45th. I'm not sure if I'm taking Dad for his reunion banquet or not, but I'm going to mine on Sat nite. Don't think I'll be dancing though. Ruth At 11:58 PM -0400 6/13/05, Vee L. Housman wrote: >Dear Folks, > >Regarding my story about our 50th class reunion, I was inspired to write it >because I realized what our reunion committee went through to put it >together. -- Ruth Barton mrgjb@sover.net Dummerston, VT

Vee, As I read your emails daily, I feel that your health is better than it was months ago. It's hard to put a good woman down!!! Hang in there, I enjoy reading your daily events. Janey in Tennessee ps. It's very hot here! > > From: "Vee L. Housman" <housman@adelphia.net> > Date: 2005/06/14 Tue AM 01:47:36 EDT > To: NYNIAGAR-FOLKS-L@rootsweb.com > Subject: [FOLKS] My foray into the heat today > > Dear Folks, > > >From the minute I got up today I knew that I had some important errands to > run in the village. Nonetheless, I also knew that the thermometer was again > pushing 90 degrees. I really hated to leave my air conditioned house. > > I had no problem when I got in my car, backed out of my barn and cranked my > air conditioning to high. There was enough cool air from the barn to > sustain me all the way to the village. However, the comfort level decreased > while I parked the car at the library and returned with my new books. Still > no real major problem. I then went to the Rite Aid pharmacy to buy a bottle > of vitamins, returned to my car and started to feel the effects of the heat. > >From there I went to The Market Place, aka B-Kwik, and shopped for > everything I needed. I managed to push my shopping cart out the door, load > everything in the trunk of my car, and get back behind the steering wheel. > I still had my air conditioning cranked up to high but all that I felt was > hot humid air blowing in on me by that time. I felt that my brain was being > fried. > > Even though I felt pleased that I managed to do everything I wanted to do > this afternoon, I knew that when I parked my car back into the cool barn, I > had groceries to remove from my trunk and haul into my house. The first on > my list was my gallon of milk and then my wicker shopping basket that had > some items that needed to go into the refrigerator. When that was > accomplished, I wasn't worried with what was left in the trunk. Nothing > would spoil and if I left the trunk and the barn door open surely John my > lawn maintance man would take notice and bring the remainder in my house > after he mowed my lawn. > > I plopped myself down in my chair in the living room and soaked up every bit > of cool air that my A/C blew out while I continued reading my latest murder > mystery. But then disaster struck. We had a fierce thunderstorm and the > rain pelted the windows. My first thought was that my groceries would get > soaked as well as the bottom of my trunk. I seriousely considered > dashing(?) through the heavy rain and at least salvage my groceries, close > the trunk and close the barn door. But every bit of energy I had at the > time quickly disappeared when I noticed again the pouring rain. > > To make a long story short, I figured that the driving rain was coming from > the west, my barn faced the east and the likelihood of any rain pouring into > my barn was minimal. Therefore, I did some limited damage control, closed > the barn door with my door opener/closer and decided I'd worry about the > groceries tomorrow. > > I know that this story isn't the sort that you might consider the highlight > of your day, but I'll tell you right now that it took every bit of effort > for me to overcome the obstacles I faced. > vee > >

Dear Folks, From the minute I got up today I knew that I had some important errands to run in the village. Nonetheless, I also knew that the thermometer was again pushing 90 degrees. I really hated to leave my air conditioned house. I had no problem when I got in my car, backed out of my barn and cranked my air conditioning to high. There was enough cool air from the barn to sustain me all the way to the village. However, the comfort level decreased while I parked the car at the library and returned with my new books. Still no real major problem. I then went to the Rite Aid pharmacy to buy a bottle of vitamins, returned to my car and started to feel the effects of the heat. From there I went to The Market Place, aka B-Kwik, and shopped for everything I needed. I managed to push my shopping cart out the door, load everything in the trunk of my car, and get back behind the steering wheel. I still had my air conditioning cranked up to high but all that I felt was hot humid air blowing in on me by that time. I felt that my brain was being fried. Even though I felt pleased that I managed to do everything I wanted to do this afternoon, I knew that when I parked my car back into the cool barn, I had groceries to remove from my trunk and haul into my house. The first on my list was my gallon of milk and then my wicker shopping basket that had some items that needed to go into the refrigerator. When that was accomplished, I wasn't worried with what was left in the trunk. Nothing would spoil and if I left the trunk and the barn door open surely John my lawn maintance man would take notice and bring the remainder in my house after he mowed my lawn. I plopped myself down in my chair in the living room and soaked up every bit of cool air that my A/C blew out while I continued reading my latest murder mystery. But then disaster struck. We had a fierce thunderstorm and the rain pelted the windows. My first thought was that my groceries would get soaked as well as the bottom of my trunk. I seriousely considered dashing(?) through the heavy rain and at least salvage my groceries, close the trunk and close the barn door. But every bit of energy I had at the time quickly disappeared when I noticed again the pouring rain. To make a long story short, I figured that the driving rain was coming from the west, my barn faced the east and the likelihood of any rain pouring into my barn was minimal. Therefore, I did some limited damage control, closed the barn door with my door opener/closer and decided I'd worry about the groceries tomorrow. I know that this story isn't the sort that you might consider the highlight of your day, but I'll tell you right now that it took every bit of effort for me to overcome the obstacles I faced. vee

Dear Folks, For some reason tonight I felt that I really needed to touch base with my new Deputy Town of Porter Historian, Rosanne. You see, even though she was appointed to the position this past January, no one ever told me about it on an official basis. I had to hear about her on an informal basis. I've been waiting for her to call me and introduce herself but it never happened. I didn't have a clue what she knew about Town of Porter history or her interest in it. As I said, for some reason tonight I thought that it was about time I gave her a call and get to know her somewhat. I called her at the late hour of 10:15 but she was wide awake and only too willing to have a good conversation with me. How did the conversation go? We had a ball! She told me that she had always lived in Ransomville (she was born in 1954) and knew the hamlet well if only from her memories. I asked her about her personal family surnames and that brought on an onslaught when I pulled up my genealogy program and searched on the names she mentioned. I even found that she's included in my records. The more we talked, the more excited we became. Not only did her many family connections excite me but she owns the site of the old basket factory in Ransomville that used to manufacture bushel baskets for the enormous shipments of fruit on freight trains out of Ransomville. In addition, her daughter owns the old house of Dr. Plain who was the only doctor there in the early 1900s. By the time we hung up after 11:00, I knew that if I had a question about the families or history of Ransomville, I could call her or email her and by the same token if she had any questions about the families and history of the overall Town of Porter, she knows my phone number and email address. In addition, we're excited to get together face to face and talk our heads off. Such a good feeling. vee

Dear Folks, Regarding my story about our 50th class reunion, I was inspired to write it because I realized what our reunion committee went through to put it together. For our 10th reunion in 1959 I flew from California to Niagara Falls to attend. I had a ball. We had our 20th reunion in 1969. I flew back again and had a ball. By our 25th reunion in 1974 I had moved back home to Niagara Falls only a few weeks or days prior to the reunion. I had a ball. By our 30th reunion in 1979 I was hooked on our reunions and volunteered to be a member of the committee to put our reunion together. I had a ball at the reunion. Next was our 40th in 1989. I was on the reunion committee again and it was tough to get all the problems ironed out. Nonetheless, I had a ball and danced my fool head off! When it came to our 50th in 1999 all of us committee members had the drill down pretty pat but because of the importance of our 50th bash we had to work our heads and behinds off. I believe it was after the last hurrah at the reunion, that the individual committee members decided that we were too pooped both mentally and physically to even consider a 55th reunion in 2004. By then we'd be in our 70s and we had been losing more and more classmates. Nonetheless, the reunion committee and our classmates had a ball at our 50th reunion and I don't believe that anyone was expecting another one in five years. If any of you receive an invitation to your next class reunion, make every effort to attend. I guarantee you'll have a ball. By the same token, let the reunion committee know how much you appreciate the year-long effort it took to put it all together. vee

Vee - It sounds like a wonderful time. As far as I know, our class had a 10th and a 25th, but the 10th was a small gathering at a local bar, less than 1/4 of the class showed up (I was not one of them). And I didn't even get the invitation to the 25th, which sounded very similar to the 10th. Thanks for giving us the view into yours. I enjoyed it. Kathy

How interesting Vee. I wonder how many of us have had a 50th class reunion? Mine won't be until 2007 and hope I'll be able to attend. I went to my 20th and it was nice but nothing like your 50th Vee. So okay gals and guys, tell us about your 50th (or less) class reunion. Thanks Evelyn

> So okay gals and guys, tell us about your 50th (or less) class reunion. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ While I cannot lay claim to any of the planning, my husband's 35th was a lot of fun. And, since we went to the same high school, I got to see a whole lot of people who were seniors when I was but a lowly freshman. ~~Leslie (Bridges) Kohler~~

Dear Folks, I'm in the process of putting in order the last segment of my book. That's when I was reminded of our 50th class reunion of Niagara Falls High school--class of 49. I had written down a couple of incidents about the reunion in 1999 but I'd like to mention how those of us on the reunion committee managed to put it all together. First off, the committee first met in 1998 to start to put together the reunion. There were classmates we couldn't find, we had to agree on where we would have it on the Friday get-together, we checked out the restaurant and found that they couldn't accommodate us inside that day but that we could get together outside and set up our beer bar and tables there. We arranged with the restaurant for snacks and beer and everything was set. OK, that took care of Friday. The committee met once a week for a year and eventually made the arrangements for Saturday morning. Our old alma mater was in jeopardy of being torn down to make way for a mini shopping plaza and we felt that it would be our last chance to walk through the halls that all of us still remembered. The tour was finally arranged and down pat. In the meantime we had been working on where our extra special Saturday dinner dance would be held. We wanted it to be an extra-classy place and the best place in Niagara Falls was the elegant exclusive Niagara Falls Country Club. One of our classmates, Dr. John Marino, was a member of the club and managed to sponsor us and we went from there. We had to agree on the dinner menu, the price per person, the flower arrangements, the number of dinner tables needed, the favors and heaven only knows what else. All of us on the committee were exhausted before the Friday get-together was to be held. We had every base covered with one exception. The weatherman predicted heavy rain on Friday. Oh that was just great inasmuch as our get together was planned for outside. I believe that it was late on Wednesday when we got the news and the only thing we could think of was to rent a party tent. I don't know how George did it but he was actually able to find a tent to rent and have them set it up by Friday evening. Note: it didn't rain a drop, everything went smoothly and we all had a ball. Saturday afternoon's tour through our school went without a hitch and we all felt that we had taken a trip down memory lane. Saturday evening all our committee members arrived at the country club a couple of hours before happy hour was to begin. That's when we met with a near disaster. It had been settled that there would be a cash bar. However, someone checked the club rules and found that it was against their constitution (or law) that they could sell drinks to nonmembers. I don't know the details of how that was finally settled but it was. The club agreed that if everyone would pay $5.00 per person, they could drink as much as they wanted. Wow, you certainly couldn't beat that sort of an offer! However, that wasn't our only problem. When a couple of us counted how many tables were set up in our dining room, there were about three tables short and the room was already crowded (there were about 300 of us). We didn't have time to go through the chain of command so we ordered the waitresses or serving people to drag out more tables and nicely arrange them. I don't know how we ever did it but by the time everyone sat down at the dinner tables, everything was perfect. Sitting near our speaker's podium was one of the last remaining teachers that we had in school. It was Miss Maxmillian. After our MC John introduced her and everyone applauded, I piped up and said that I wanted to ask her a question. It was the first time I had the opportunity. Ever since I was in high school I remembered Miss Maxmillian and also my teacher Miss Rassmussen. The question was, "If Miss Rassmussen missed school, would Miss Maxmillian miss Miss Rassmussen?" Note: that's a tongue twister that every was, especially after a few glasses of wine! Miss Maxmillian thoroughly enjoyed it! Dinner was impeccably served, the food was perfection and after everyone finished their dessert and coffee, they milled around and checked everyone's name tags. When they found someone they remembered, there were squeals of delight (from the girls) and hugs were exchanged. Such a happy time. Note: the members of our reunion committee congratulated each other for putting together the greatest 50th class reunion ever. Again, we couldn't believe that we had pulled it off. The class lingered and some of us wandered into the bar area/dance floor. It was there that I capped my evening off. Years later it wrote it all down. Dancing to Night Train August 9, 2002 This evening while listening to my recording of "Night Train," it reminded me of our 50th class reunion of Niagara Falls High School in 1999. All of us were around 68 years old at the time. I was thoroughly enjoying listening to the band's selections of the great old songs of the 40s and 50s but there came a point to where I just had to dance! And there was our classmate George Tirabassi, the dancing fool, who was ripe for the picking's! I tore him away from his wife Ida and insisted we dance together. He didn't object (nor did Ida) and we waited for the band to play the next number. That's when the band struck up the 1950s instrumental of "Night Train." Oh, what a smooth melody with such an exotic, exciting beat to dance to. Frankly I had never danced to it before in my life and I had never danced with George before in my life, but I kicked off my shoes and we danced. We were the only ones on the dance floor. It was like it all came back to both of us what it was like to dance to a soft, sexy, slow jitterbug with all the right moves. Dancing with each other peeled the years away from both of us. The two of us were perfection! A crowd gathered around the dance floor and watched as we danced and danced and danced. We were the Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers of the Class of '49! While the rest of the class who had gathered around gave us a grand applause at the end, I noticed Dr. John Marino, another one of our classmates, with his medical bag in hand, standing by fully prepared to deal with a possible coronary on either of our parts! Oh it was so wonderful and so rejuvenating to realize that at the age of 68 you can still dance as well (even better) than you could when you graduated from high school fifty years before. Trust me, I didn't know then what I know now!

Evelyn said, > Vee, what if it's not what you're doing with the lettuce but the lettuce > itself. When we buy it we don't know "how" or "where" it was raised. Dear Evelyn, That thought crossed my mind also. But I've come to a decision for the time being. Even though California lettuce is on sale at the cheap(???) price of $1.28 per head this week, I think I'll just bypass lettuce altogether for awhile. As much as I love a lettuce salad with my dinner, I think I'll switch to cole slaw and see how that works out. Cabbage is on sale(??) for $.50 a head. The only problem with cole slaw is the cutting and shredding of the cabbage and I no longer have the strength to do it with a knife. I'll see how it works using my food prossessor. Thanks for the suggestion and I want to thank Beth for the suggestion she sent me privately. vee

Vee, what if it's not what you're doing with the lettuce but the lettuce itself. When we buy it we don't know "how" or "where" it was raised. Just like the wearing out of our bodies, so is farm land worn out. Personally I don't think our food is as healthy as it used to be. My suggestion is to try some other way to store it. Hopefully someone else around your kitchen table can help. For me when I buy fresh veggies and fruits I eat them up as quick as possible cause they just don't last. One thing that annoys me here is not being able to get near ripe bananas. The stores have them lying there green as the proverbial grass - yuck ! I like a banana when I can't hear it peeled, if you know what I mean. Oh, well we each have our quirks, don't we. Evelyn ----- Original Message ----- From: "Vee L. Housman" <housman@adelphia.net> To: <NYNIAGAR-FOLKS-L@rootsweb.com> Sent: Saturday, June 11, 2005 11:52 PM Subject: [FOLKS] My lettuce problem > Dear Folks, > > For the past number of months I've been wanting to tell you of my lettuce > problem in hopes that you can solve it. You see, during most of my entire > adult life I've always rinsed off my fresh head of lettuce under the faucet, > drained it in my collendar and then stored it in the refrigerator in a > plastic bag. It was always good until the last bite. > > However, things have changed drastically. No matter how hard I try to pick > the best heads of lettuce in the bin, rinse them and store them > meticulously, I quickly end up with slimy lettuce. So my question here is > what have I been doing wrong lately? What worked perfectly before > definitely doesn't work now. > > Should I now just rinse the head off, drain it and then store it in my > refrigerator crisper drawer without the plastic bag? Should I not rinse it > off at all? > > To me, lettuce is as much a staple as bread and milk. What would my dinner > be without a salad? Discounting a slimy salad. > > Help, > vee > >

Dear Folks, For the past number of months I've been wanting to tell you of my lettuce problem in hopes that you can solve it. You see, during most of my entire adult life I've always rinsed off my fresh head of lettuce under the faucet, drained it in my collendar and then stored it in the refrigerator in a plastic bag. It was always good until the last bite. However, things have changed drastically. No matter how hard I try to pick the best heads of lettuce in the bin, rinse them and store them meticulously, I quickly end up with slimy lettuce. So my question here is what have I been doing wrong lately? What worked perfectly before definitely doesn't work now. Should I now just rinse the head off, drain it and then store it in my refrigerator crisper drawer without the plastic bag? Should I not rinse it off at all? To me, lettuce is as much a staple as bread and milk. What would my dinner be without a salad? Discounting a slimy salad. Help, vee

Dear Evelyn, I agree 100% with you that the world is going to hell in a handbasket. The kids aren't being brought up and taught manners, responsibility or being responsible for their actions. There's always Mommy or Daddy to bail them out of jail or even to sit in detention for the child. (sigh) vee ----- Original Message ----- From: "evelyn" <ebcooper@copper.net> To: <NYNIAGAR-FOLKS-L@rootsweb.com> Sent: Saturday, June 11, 2005 10:54 AM Subject: Fw: [FOLKS] PS to fourth graders > Vee - > > This goes back to a generational thing. Many children today are being > brought up not knowing about responsibility, respect for their elders, the > proper behavior in different settings. Schools don't want to burden them > because of all the threats they live under today - school shootings, drugs > in school, and being unable to punish them except maybe for detention. On > our local news there was an item about mothers doing detention for their > daughters. One girl left school a half hour early ... to keep a hair > appointment....[what - I couldn't believe what I was hearing]. The school > gave her detention but the mother said it was wrong because her daughter > was > a good student with a good school record, so she chose to do the detention > for her. What?? Is this world going mad. What lesson is the parent > teaching her daughter?? > > So as us old(er) folk shake our heads in disbelief, we also know that if > given the opportunity we will try to give a positive lesson to a child, > first by our actions, then words - smiling all the while. > > Evelyn :-) >> > >

I have never heard of storing bodies in this manner but what you describe is very much like how ice was stored in ice houses for use during the warm months of the year before electricity made modern refrigeration possible. Ruth At 7:12 AM -0400 6/10/05, evelyn wrote: >Hi all - > > > This was posted on another list and because I thought it quite interesting >(and Vee suggested to do so) I'm posting on "our" list. It is a new one to >me, simply because I hadn't thought of what was done to the dead many years >ago. - Evelyn > >"My relatives in Michigan told me that in the rural up until the 1930s >& 40s, areas where small family cemeteries are the norm, the ground during >frost and snow could not be dug out by hand and there was little access to >very expensive machinery to do it outside the large cities. The townships >and villages solved their conundrum by erecting temporary outbuildings on a >farm or some other readily accessible location. They would frame the plank >siding and then fill the space between the studs with sawdust. Then they >went to the lake and >sawed 3'x5' blocks of ices and returned them to the ice house where the ice >was covered with another layer of sawdust (I can't imagine what a lousy job >it was to stand there all day sawing wood for dust!) and the center of the >room was where the boxed bodies rested until spring. The ice house >maintained a steady temperature just above freezing and the ice lasted all >season. After spring thaw the local sheriff certified that all the bodies >were accounted for and they were disbursed to the families. Everyone >contributed to the ice house >with sweat equity so it did not cost them anything except for the legal >documents. Some winters when pneumonia and infections were rampant the area >would be dotted with 20 or 30 ice houses holding hundreds of bodies. If >there was no one to receive the bodies after spring thaw they became >property of the county and were buried in mass potters' fields unmarked. >Because they were considered >cast-off and no one was available to be hurt and offended, most of the >potters fields of that era currently lie under roads, parks, and mass >residential housing tracts. Kinda creepy like the movie Poltergeist I guess. >Anyway, I just thought I'd share the stories I have. Best wishes for success >with your research! > Kevin O'Brien > Laguna Hills, CA" >From: <KevinOBrien8527@aol.com> >To: <NYJEFFER-L@rootsweb.com> -- Ruth Barton mrgjb@sover.net Dummerston, VT

Vee - This goes back to a generational thing. Many children today are being brought up not knowing about responsibility, respect for their elders, the proper behavior in different settings. Schools don't want to burden them because of all the threats they live under today - school shootings, drugs in school, and being unable to punish them except maybe for detention. On our local news there was an item about mothers doing detention for their daughters. One girl left school a half hour early ... to keep a hair appointment....[what - I couldn't believe what I was hearing]. The school gave her detention but the mother said it was wrong because her daughter was a good student with a good school record, so she chose to do the detention for her. What?? Is this world going mad. What lesson is the parent teaching her daughter?? So as us old(er) folk shake our heads in disbelief, we also know that if given the opportunity we will try to give a positive lesson to a child, first by our actions, then words - smiling all the while. Evelyn :-) >

Dear Folks, There's a big downer regarding the tours our historical society give the fourth graders on an annual basis. In the past number of years the society didn't have to put out a cent for the children to be bussed to the museum. Now the school can't afford the cost of the busses and if we really wanted the children to continue to have such an educational experience, it would be up to the historical society to foot the bill. For how much? $1,200! Well, this year we were barely able to scrape up that amount of money. Not only that but the school had shortened the time we would be allowed to teach the students. In the past we were allowed 20 minutes for each small group but now we're restricted to only 10 minutes. It was if we were running them along on an assembly line. It's no wonder Pat and I could barely remember what we had just said to the last group before the next group showed up. Last night I wanted to call Pat to let her know that I had dug up the correct information regarding Christopher Clapsaddle's school attendance. Then I figured, what's the use? Chances are that Thursday's group would be the last group that we'll be teaching. It has gotten to the point that the Historical Society really can't afford to foot the bill. Even if they could, the volunteers are now so taxed that they barely can remember what they just said. Being limited to only ten minutes you can't even touch the tip of the iceberg. I really don't want to continue in this vein but I guess I really want to make a comment on the students. When the first group of students entered our class room I immediately took note that most of them were carrying a bottle of water or soft drink and sipped on them while Pat was trying to keep their attention. Not only that but half of the boys were wearing baseball caps and apparently their teachers weren't inclined to remind them to remove their caps in school. But what really got Pat's goat (she's a retired fourth grade school teacher) was when one of the students asked her a question but she couldn't understand what he was saying. It was obvious that he was trying to talk around the lollypop stick he was gnawing on in his mouth. No doubt both Pat and I had noticed that most of them had lollypop sticks in their mouths and she put her foot down. She asked (ordered?) one of the teachers to fetch a waste paper basket and all of the students had to give up their lollypop sticks. Of course Pat and I are now in our 70s and it's difficult for us to understand how such conduct could be condoned nowadays in school. I don't know about Pat but I certainly know that if I were to be put through that again, it's doubtful that I could keep my mouth shut. Yes, I dearly loved the children but I certainly had a lot of angry words in my mind on the subject. vee

Hi all - This was posted on another list and because I thought it quite interesting (and Vee suggested to do so) I'm posting on "our" list. It is a new one to me, simply because I hadn't thought of what was done to the dead many years ago. - Evelyn "My relatives in Michigan told me that in the rural up until the 1930s & 40s, areas where small family cemeteries are the norm, the ground during frost and snow could not be dug out by hand and there was little access to very expensive machinery to do it outside the large cities. The townships and villages solved their conundrum by erecting temporary outbuildings on a farm or some other readily accessible location. They would frame the plank siding and then fill the space between the studs with sawdust. Then they went to the lake and sawed 3'x5' blocks of ices and returned them to the ice house where the ice was covered with another layer of sawdust (I can't imagine what a lousy job it was to stand there all day sawing wood for dust!) and the center of the room was where the boxed bodies rested until spring. The ice house maintained a steady temperature just above freezing and the ice lasted all season. After spring thaw the local sheriff certified that all the bodies were accounted for and they were disbursed to the families. Everyone contributed to the ice house with sweat equity so it did not cost them anything except for the legal documents. Some winters when pneumonia and infections were rampant the area would be dotted with 20 or 30 ice houses holding hundreds of bodies. If there was no one to receive the bodies after spring thaw they became property of the county and were buried in mass potters' fields unmarked. Because they were considered cast-off and no one was available to be hurt and offended, most of the potters fields of that era currently lie under roads, parks, and mass residential housing tracts. Kinda creepy like the movie Poltergeist I guess. Anyway, I just thought I'd share the stories I have. Best wishes for success with your research! Kevin O'Brien Laguna Hills, CA" From: <KevinOBrien8527@aol.com> To: <NYJEFFER-L@rootsweb.com>

Dear Folks, Pat kept her promise and called me at 9:00 this morning. I hated her for that but nonetheless I got out of bed, got dressed, had my cup of tea and by 9:50 I felt that I was awake enough to drive to the schoolhouse where our museum is. When I walked into the museum the first bunch of fourth graders were already there and the museum volunteers certainly held their attention. I glanced over to the first group of students and there was Jamie. He spotted me just when I had spotted him and when he recognized me his eyes got big and he did a double take. It was obvious he certainly didn't expect me to be there. And yet he looked a bit apprehensive that I might run over to him and insist on a big hug in front of his schoolmates! Dale was our museum volunteer and when he saw me he broke off what he was telling the kids about old farm implements and called over to me to let me know he was so pleased to see me. I then went through our reference room and when Karen the volunteer saw me she also was pleased to see me. From there I went to our schoolroom where the children were sitting at the old fashioned wooden school desks that had a hole to hold an ink bottle in. Pat was right up there telling the kids about what schools were like back in the olden days (before television!). I'm embarrassed to admit that I just barged in on her class and totally disrupted everything. But Pat didn't seem to mind at all. In fact it got to the point that Pat and I made a good team. Both of us graduated from high school in 1949--she had gone through all 12 grades in the old schoolhouse and when they graduated there were only 22 in their graduating class. I in turn let the children know that I graduated from Niagara Falls High School in the same year but our graduating class totaled 630! It wasn't long before Jamie's group came into our schoolroom and it was obvious that he was ignoring me, probably because he was embarrassed. He sat in the last row of desks, paid attention to what Pat was saying but was very silent. After his group left, another group came in and then another. By that time, both Pat and I had forgotten what we wanted to tell the new group. Especially on the subject of Christopher Clapsaddle who was a farm boy who went to school at Zittle's Corners. I had volunteered the information off the top of my head and told the class that Christopher started school when he was 12 years old but that he hadn't graduated from the sixth (or eighth) grade until he was 21 years old. Both Pat and I explained that it had taken him that long to get an education because he was a farm boy who was always needed on the farm to help his father plow, plant, weed and harvest their crops. The only time he could go to school was during the winter months. BTW, when I got back home I checked my records regarding his school attendance and found that I had been dead wrong. In the first place he was 7 years old when he started school in 1842 but by the time he had finished school he was 26! By the time that the last group left, I checked my watch and realized that only two hours had gone by and that my brain and Pat's brain had become totally scrambled by that time. It didn't take us long to lock up the joint and go to our cars. When I opened my car door I gasped when I sat down on the seat. The temperature had climbed to over 90 degrees and the car was hotter than an oven. I turned on my air conditioner and let it run until I felt some cool air. When I got home to my air conditioned house I was starving to death which was ridiculous inasmuch as it was earlier than 12:30. My normal routine is that I have lunch around 1:30. On the whole I feel so pleased that I was able to contribute valuable information about the schools, ink wells, pot bellied stoves in the middle of the one-room school houses and both Pat and I delighted in telling them about having to use outhouses in the dead of winter when the kids needed to go to the bathroom. There's one more thing that I want to tell you that depressed both Pat and me. When we mentioned that we had graduated from high school in 1949, one of the kids did a mental calculation and blurted out "That was 56 years ago!" Sheesh, neither of us needed to be reminded that it was that long ago! Such were the few hours of teaching the fourth graders some of the history of the Town of Porter. vee