My Great-Great-grandfather's Hometown

Before looking at the Probate Record of William (Carl Wilheim) Cline, I want to cover his birthplace.  Trying to determine the hometown of our ancestors is not an exact science, or easy.  For example, in looking at five census records, representing over fifty years of William (Carl Wilhelm) Cline's life, his birthplace is listed as three different locations.  They all list Germany, but I want a more specific locality.  The 1840 and 1850 census records of New Madrid County, Missouri lists his place of birth as just "Germany."  The 1860 and 1870 census records show "Hesse, Germany," and the 1880 Census record of New Madrid County, Missouri shows "Rhine-Hessen."  This last census taker wrote "Darmstadt" in a blank space as well.  Ah ha, the actual place of his birth and youth was Darmstadt, Hesse, Germany, and is located along the Rhine River just north of Heidelberg.   

Hesse is one of the 16 Federal States of Germany.  It is located in western-central Germany, bordered by the German states of Lower Saxony, Thuringia, Bavaria, Baden-Württemberg, Rhineland-Palatinate and North Rhine-Westphalia.  I see it spelled as Hesse, Hessian, and Hessen but they are all the same location.

As background on the development of the Federal Republic of Germany, it is located in the heart of Europe. The nation-state now known as Germany was first unified in 1871 as a modern federal state and named the German Empire.  In the first half of the 20th century two devastating World Wars, of which Germany was responsible for, left the country occupied by the victorious Allied powers. 

With the advent of the Cold War, two German states were formed in 1949: the western Federal Republic of Germany (FRG) and the eastern German Democratic Republic (GDR).   The democratic FRG embedded itself in key Western economic and security organizations, the European Union (EC) and NATO, while the communist GDR was on the front line of the Soviet-led Warsaw Pact. The decline of the USSR and the fall of Communism enabled Germany's unification in 1990. 

In 1990, I remembered watching people from East Germany and other Communist countries fleeing in trains loaded to capacity into West Germany.  For days, I watched history unfold on the television screen.  People around the world viewed the event in amazement and excitement.  Knowing this was a significant event in history, I saved a magazine and newspaper highlighting this great moment in history.  It was a powerful moment in time that I will always remember.  It may have been more important to me because of my German-American heritage.

Of course, William Cline would not recognize either Darmstadt, Hesse, Germany, or New Madrid, Missouri today, but I am sure he would be amazed and impressed.  Sometime in the late 1980s, I visited the New Madrid Courthouse and located William Cline's probate records.  I copied everything, and it cost about $25 to have the Clerk of Court make the copies.  Holding those hundred-year-old pieces of papers in my hands was very special.  We will look at some of the personal documents next week.   

Digging Up Gold in New Madrid

Buried Gold Coin in
New Madrid, Missouri

              DIGGIN UP GOLD IN NEW MADRID

The New Madrid Weekly Record, dated October 7, 1882, tells a story about my great-great-grandfather William Cline and how he hid his gold coins shortly before his death on the 27th of September in 1882.   The article reads:

     "Digging Up Gold - Last Saturday morning, Mr. J. M. Broughton, Public Administrator, took charge of the estate of William Cline, deceased.  It was known that the old man had sold his farm sometime before his death for about $700; that he had received the money in gold, and it was believed he had buried it about his house.  Soon after taking charge of the estate that morning, Mr. Broughton, with Messrs. F. H. Dawson, R. G. Holloway, and Gazwell Cline commenced a search of the property.  Gazwell recalled that his little daughter Lena told him that her grandfather kept the smokehouse locked and would allow no one to go into it.  With this clue, the party determined to search there.  The dirt in the northeast corner showed that it had been disturbed recently, and commencing to dig, the third shovelful of dirt brought up a bottle containing $500 - 25 twenty-dollar gold coins.

     Next morning Messrs. R. G. Holloway and Gazwell Cline in compliance with Mr. Broughton's request examined the house.  They found a small wooden box lying on a slat in the bed formerly used by the deceased which contained $80 in gold and $20 in silver." [end of article]

This is part of my history and as I have said before, history and genealogy are inseparable.  I'm sure you have heard stories of people in the Civil War era and up through the Great Depression hiding or burying their money because they didn't trust banks.  William Cline immigrated to New Madrid, Missouri from Germany about 1831 and was distrustful of banks.  This article confirms the stories that people buried gold as true.  I encourage you to look through old newspapers, or online newspaper websites to learn more about your ancestors.  Next week, we will look at William Cline's probate records and an inventory of his personal property.  It gives us an idea of the lifestyle of people back in mid-1800 to 1882.

Curtis and his Big Boy Tomatoes

Curtis Cline loved to work with plants of all types.  The plant nursery business was perfect for him because he could grow exceptionally large healthy trees, shrubs, azaleas, and ornamental plants for Cline's Nursery, and feel gratified.  Dad also grew fruit trees and had a huge garden each year.  Curtis liked to experiment with different varieties of vegetables annually to see how they differed.  He grew eggplants, snap beans, peas, corn, peppers, green onions, and every year he had eight or ten tomatoes plants.

I once asked him why he grew all that food when he and mom ate out more than they ate at home.  He told me it was gratifying to provide food to people who could not afford to purchase fresh vegetables.  He said he enjoyed sharing with his sisters too, besides he always enjoyed eating some of what he grew.  I remember he always enjoyed eating corn on the cob.   He put on a lot of butter when he ate the corn.  When he finished eating six or seven cobs, he had butter all over his face.  My mother fussed at him for years about using a napkin during the eating process, but he just laughed and said, "Oh Marie, the corn is too good to be worried about how my face looks.  I use a napkin after I finish eating."

The newspaper clipping is undated, but it seems to me that it was taken sometime in the 1960s.  Dad was bragging that his Big Boy tomatoes plants were so tall he had to use a step ladder to reach the top.  The word got around to the Sikeston Standard, and they sent a reporter out to see if it was true. The picture shows that the tomatoe plants grew to about eight feet tall.  Everyone in the neighborhood, at church, the family, and the usual people in need, had tomatoes that year. He got a kick out of seeing the picture of his tomatoes in the Sikeston Standard newspaper.

Kulkel Burrs and Sticky Burr Grass

Kulkel burrs are
Painful to remove!

It is common to find Kulkel burr grass in older cemeteries in Southeast Missouri.  On my trip to Sikeston two weekends ago, I visited my parents' graves, as usual.  I then drove to the old Sikeston City Cemetery to visit my grandparents, an aunt, my great-grandmother and great-great-grandmother's graves.  Almost immediately upon exiting my car, it felt like something bit my leg.  When I looked down, I saw three Kulkel burrs attached to my sock.  By the time I was through in the cemetery, both of my feet were covered in Kulkel burrs, as shown in the above photo.   Removing these stickers is painful. It jolted me back in time to when I toured many sandy cemeteries and wrote about them between 1998 and 2006.  These sticky burrs are not something I miss about Sikeston or Scott County.  They grow best in poor soil of sand and earth.

The oldest grave in the Cline Family Plot within the Sikeston City Cemetery is my great-great-grandmother Elizabeth Cornelia Tickell-Jones-Moore-Blount-Mosier.  She was born 9 Mar 1811 on the Virginia-North Carolina border, and she died in New Madrid, Missouri on 20 Feb 1892.  The other burials inside the plot are her daughter, Anna Eliza Blount Kline, her granddaughter Lena Kline Cline, and her husband William Henry Cline, their infant son Henry Webster Cline who died at the age of thirteen months, on 21 December 1893.  Then many years later, Henry and Lena Cline's daughter Vera Daughterty Cline Johnson had her cremated remains placed there in 1995.  Vera's husband, Edward Johnson, was the inventor of the hydraulic brake mechanism applicable to the landing gear of airplanes.  He received Patent Number US 1, 870,289 on August 8, 1931.  

Ed Johnson was on the Pennsylvania railroad’s The Spirit of St. Louis passenger train testing a new invention.  He was seriously injured when the car he was riding in broke loose and rammed the locomotive of a stationary passenger train of the same line in the Columbus (Ohio) Union station yards at 9:35 o’clock on June 7, 1948.  Police and firemen identified ten seriously injured.  Most critically injured was E. D. Johnson, 45, of Jennings, Missouri, a mechanical engineer with the Wagner Electric Corporation of St. Louis.  He suffered fractures of both legs and a severe laceration of the lower abdomen.  He was taken to St. Frances Hospital.  Johnson was en route to Allentown, Pa., on business.   Edward Johnson died on June 19, 1948.  He asked to be buried in Falconer, Chautauqua County, New York with the Johnson family.  Vera and their two daughters, Ruth and Martha Johnson remained in the St. Louis area.  At the time of Vera's death, she requested to be buried near her parents and grandmothers in Sikeston, Missouri, the same as her husband had done forty-five year before her.

Vera and her husband Edward Johnson had a wonderful life up until the fatal train wreck.  Life presents us with many joys, but like kulkel burrs, sometimes painful things happen that pierces our heart.  Vera Cline Johnson never got over the loss of her bright husband and remained single the rest of her life.  When you walk through a cemetery, you will see beautiful works of art incorporated into headstones and many sad stories of people being taken too quickly.   Just remember, it is the painful parts of life that make us appreciate the minor and significant joys for which we are blessed.

Growing Old With Charm and Wit

 

Margaret Cline Harmon, Carol Rettig Carol,
 Dan Caldwell and Carl Holyfield take a
break for a picture at the Stoner home.

The Class of 1962 celebrated its 55th reunion September 30, in Sikeston, Missouri.  It could have been better attended, but for those of us there, it was enjoyable.  I talked with some classmates I had not spoken with much at previous gatherings.  Each one was interesting, and it was delightful to reminisce about high school days and learn what each was doing now.  Lloyd Stoner and his wife very graciously hosted the entire class at their beautiful home on Friday night.  I felt bad for them as they were so busy they could not enjoy the evening as the rest of us did.  We all appreciated them for the generious hospitality.  Friday night I was able to talk with many friends but Saturday night seemed to go too quickly. 

Most classmates were recognizable, although we all showed the signs of aging since seeing each other in 2007 and 2012.  Amazingly, after each conversation started, my mind pictured the classmate as they were in 1962.  Some were funnier now than back in high school, and one or two looked better than they did in 1962, in my opinion.   I wanted to hug every one of my classmates, but there just was not enough time to greet them all.  Over the years, I have learned that the flesh of our body deteriorates and is temporary.  In the end, relationships are all that truly matters.  There is a poem I read often and try to live by its words:

   "If I should live to a ripe old age,

     may I possess some bit of individuality,

     charm and wit that I will not be discarded

     when I am withered, worn, and weak,

     but sought after and cherished,

     like a fine antique."

I cherish the twelve years spent with my classmates at the Sikeston public schools, and hope to see them all again in five years.  It is relationships that shape our lives and bring happiness.  It seemed odd that long-time master of ceremonies Joe Bean was not there this year; however, Tom Nunnelee stepped up to the plate and moved the event along at a good pace.  Concluding the reunion by singing the Red and Black seemed to be the perfect ending.  God's blessings to every classmate!  

Red Pepper Initiation Banned? How Sad!!

Outgoing 1962 Red Pepper Officer
 and new 1963 Officers - First Row: 
Shirley Adams, Patsy McWilliams, 
Cassandra Corley, Rosie Litchford,
and Marsha Gibson

It was regrettable to hear the Sikeston Public School Board banned the Red Pepper Initiation a few years ago.  It was part of the school culture and was a tradition that girls looked forward to their Freshman year of high school.  I never heard of anyone harmed, or of any violence as part of the Red Pepper Initiation Day.  You were not required to join the Red Peppers, but for those who did join, initiation was considered a privilege.  It was worth one day of silliness.

First, you had to memorize the following songs.  Then you had to sing them to the satisfaction of the Red Peppers grading you for acceptance.

               All three verses of the “Red and Black.

All three verses of “The Star-Spangled Banner.”

There were a few other things that I have forgotten in fifty-five years, but these were the two biggies.

The INITIATION DAY was always on a Friday.  Green Peppers were required to have a Red Pepper sponsor to lead you through the day.  I remember I had to pull my sponsor in a red wagon where ever she wanted to go.  We were required to wear ridiculous costumes all day, even to classes.  Any Red Pepper could tell us to do something, and we had to do it.  It was done in fun and very few, if anyone, felt dehumanized.  It was fun for everyone, and it was required to be a cool RED PEPPER.  I remember two more things we were expected to do, even on the school grounds.  In talking with my friend and classmate Millie Bennett Nauman by telephone recently, and we recalled the following:

The First Requirement:  We had to drop to the ground when they said: “HIME is coming.” Then we had to put our noses to the ground so we could not see HIME.  Green Peppers were not worthy of seeing HIME before we became full Red Peppers.

The Second Requirement:  When asked by a Red Pepper, “Who is the Greenest Green Pepper?”  We had to respond with the following.  Millie reminded me that we also had to get down on our knees while citing this, and we had to turn in circles.  The proper response was -

Of all the Green Peppers Ever So Green

I am the Greenest pepper you have ever seen.

Then, when the school bell rang for school dismissal, all the green Peppers gathered in front of the “old” high school and waited for their sponsors.  We offered our sponsor a ride to the park in front of the business section, in the middle of town.  There, everyone enjoyed a big celebration and final initiation tricks.  Some green Peppers had eggs crushed on their heads, some had honey poured over their heads, then cornflakes smashed into the honey.  I was lucky.  I just had orange juice poured over my head, in addition to wearing a green Pepper all day, I also had to wear an orange around my neck.  It was not until that moment in the park that I understood why I had to wear the orange.  If my sponsor told me to eat either, or both, then I ate it.  At the end of that day, the green Peppers looked a mess, and they were tired. 

Then, the Red Pepper President blew her whistle signaling the conclusion.  Initiation was over, and inclusion began.  There were hugs, cheers, and congratulations.  We made the cut!  Most young ladies considered it fun and worth every moment of that day to become RED Peppers for three years.  Some may call this hazing, I call it character building.  Things given without effort is never appreciated as much as things earned.  

Gone, but not forgotten!

Dieting For My Reunion?

Margaret Cline -1962

Oh, what a difference 55 years can make in our appearance.  Today, my skin no longer fits my body properly, I have a big gap in my front teeth caused from TMJ, my waistline is much wider, my feet were crippled from a botched foot surgery in 2014, and I don't even want to talk about my arms or neck!   None of that bothers me, but the one new thing that does bother me is arthritis.  I no longer stand tall and straight but stand stooped, like an old person. However, most of the time, I still think youthful thoughts, much like I did in 1962.  In the end, our mind is the most important element in our bodies.  Especially its capacity to remember.  

Margaret Cline Harmon
2017

I look forward to attending my SHS's 55th Class Reunion next week in Sikeston, Missouri.  Labor Day, I gave serious thought of starting a diet to look better for the event. Then I realized it is impossible to lose thirty pounds in four weeks, so I forgot about it.  The Class of 1962 will share many memories when we meet.  None of us will see as well as we did when we graduated from the NEW Sikeston High School.  We can not hear as well as we did back then, and we will all be carrying more weight than in our high school days.  

All of our children are grown, and we have grandchildren, and a few have great-grandchildren.  Our formative careers have now ended.  The reason most of us will attend the reunion is for the shared memories of the time we were relatively worried free.  We can all remember when our bodies functioned perfectly and looked much better than they do now.   Most of us return to our class reunions to visit with our classmates, and recalling their personalities in 1962.  When talking to a classmate, it is common to see the other person as we saw them in high school.  We recall working together in different clubs, in the band, in sports, and in the choir.  The memory of getting up early to be at marching band practice at 7:00 AM  and after school club meetings are strong.  We have collective memories of fun, silliness, and serious moments together as a class, and individually.  

People return to various types of reunions for the feeling of inclusion, and the feelings and memories a place and people produce.  We remember the Bulldog Inn, the Cotton Gin and its smell, the Cow Bell, the Dunn Hotel, the Gay 90's Village, Kirby's hamburgers, the Malone Theater (when it was downtown), Nancy's Sweet Shop, SHS Championship Football, the Skating Rink, Wag's, Woolworths, and much more.  We even remember when Elvis performed at the Armory in Sikeston, not once, but twice.

Elvis Presley - 1955

This year, we will also mourn the loss of classmates - Bob Depro, Joan Happe, Nellie Karnes, Lonnie Dickie, and Phillip Payne.  Like life, this reunion will be filled with joys, fun, and sadness.  It is a time to appreciate each classmate for who they were, and who they have become.  I pray each returning member of the Sikeston High School Class of 1962 arrive safely, and that they return home with a spring in their step and humming "The Red and the Black."  Go Sikeston Bulldogs!   

Neatness is for sissies!

Curtis H. Cline with his Boys Sunday School Class.  He
loved these boys and stayed in touch with two of them
for over twenty years.  He was a man of great faith.

Curtis Henry Cline had a good heart.  He was a good Christian who tithed his entire adult life.  However, he was a bit rough around the edges in some areas.  His Grandma Kline taught her grandchildren manners, how to dress properly, and how to speak proper English.  Somewhere along the way, my Dad failed to grasp the lessons on neatness and how to dress.  He sometimes exasperated my Mother and my Aunt Grace with his failure to clean up after himself in the house.  He would wash his hands in the sink and just walk away without drying the sink.   Nor would he hang the towel on the rack after he dried his hands, he just left it on the sink or vanity and walked away.

The photo above shows that he wore the right clothes to attend church, but he could not be bothered adjusting his

collar or centering his tie.  Curtis never took time to look in the mirror to see if he was dressed suitably. He was a man with a mission, and neatness was a very low priority.  He purchased a good quality of work clothes from Buckner-Ragsdale on Main Street. The pants and shirts were an olive green.  He did not want to think about what to wear when he got up, so a standard uniform suited him perfectly.

My Dad just chose to do things his way,  but when it was necessary, he knew how to conform to society 's rules to please the women in his life.  The most important thing he did for his children was to give them unconditional love.  It is a character that is priceless.  He was rough around the edges, yet this world would be a better place with more people with like my Dad.  He was a man of love, compassion for those less fortunate, and a man who believed his word was his bond.  Curtis Cline was a man of integrity.

The Cline Home in Morehouse, MO - 1890-1926 - Part 3 of 3

March 5, 1926, was a day of panic, of fear, and of despair for my father's family.  The news clipping tells of the loss of both their home and its contents.  Several people tried to enter the house and save the contents but the only things they saved were two chairs.  The heat and smoke from the fire were just too great to return for more.  

Fortunately, the older children had married and moved to their own homes.  It is for this reason that we have over three dozen or so photographs taken of the home and some of the people gathered there before the fire.  My Aunt Eula Cline Goolsby inherited a ruby ring, other jewelry and special items that she took with her when she married.  My Aunt Grace Cline Dye inherited a large jewelry collection of fine jewelry that was also taken from the house before it burned, letters and a few things of historical value, but everyone expected to take more items in the future.  None of the family expected to lose the house in such a tragic manner.  The second son, Ed Cline, also had items from the home.

Pictured to the right, is a photo of one of the two parlor chairs that were saved. They were high fashion in 1890 when the

One of two parlor chairs
saved from Cline Home 

house was finished and furniture was selected for the home.  My Dad once told me he thought the furniture came down the Mississippi River from either St. Louis, or from Louisville, down the Ohio River to the Mississippi, and to New Madrid.  There, it would have been transferred to a train and shipped to Morehouse.  This is one of the few tangible items we have from dad's childhood home.  My cousin Sam Goolsby said he didn't think his mother ever got over the loss of her childhood home.  The entire family that once lived and enjoyed their lives within the Cline Home that once stood in Morehouse are now dead.  Other than a few photographs, the two chairs, and my father's memories recorded by me, the history of this home is gone.  When my generation is gone the only knowledge of the home is what people might read about it.  I am glad I was able to walk on the ground where it once stood and listen to my father's memories.  Today, the house gone, but not forgotten.  

The Cline Home in Morehouse, MO - 1890-1926 - Part 2 of 3

After asking my Dad to relate his memories of his childhood home, he stood up, excused himself, and went outside to "stretch his legs."  When he returned, his memories moved to his current home.  Dad told me, "The main reason for building the edition to our family home on Lake Street was because of my memories of my childhood home.  The addition provided a lot more space than the original house your Uncle Orville, and I built in 1937.  I had wanted a larger home for several years but didn't want to spend the money or live with the mess of expanding our house.  I also wanted a fireplace."  He laughed and said, "Your mother complained that we needed more space when you kids returned with grandchildren. She also wanted a second bath room with a shower.  So we both had our reasons to build the addition to our house.  The new part of the house was added in 1973, and is slightly larger than the original home."   

Curtis & Marie Cline Family
Walnut Mantle and fireplace
is in the background.  1975

He explained with pride that he had saved a large walnut log up in the attic for many years.  He knew that someday it would be a fireplace mantel in their home, and it was included in the addition.  Dad was a man who believed in setting goals, and I am like him in that approach to life.  My parents lived in the house he built in the spring of 1937 through November 1995, when they went into a nursing home together.  Few people live in the same house for nearly sixty years anymore. 

I once again pulled up a screen of fine china and ask Dad if any of the patterns looked like the ones he ate on as a child, but he was not ready to stop talking about the house in Morehouse.  He recalled they had lace curtains over the windows and that the girls would pick flowers from the front flower garden and bring them into the house in the summer.  "The boys picked fruit trees to the south of the house, and the girls and my grandma put up jam and jellies for the winter," Curtis said with a smile.  He continued with his memories of their farm with, "We had a dairy farm that supplied many area families with milk, cream, and butter.  Our family also made cheese for their own use but never sold it with the business products. Curtis continued with, "We always had some of my Dad's family visiting us, so we had to feed more than a dozen people at meal time.  Dairy farm life was a rewarding life, except for the long hours required."

Finally, I got Dad to look at china patterns to see if he saw one that looked like the mark on the back of his folk's china.  I went to the website,
 http://www.replacements.com/services.htm that has one the world's largest collection of full sets and replacement pieces of china, flatware, and crystal.   After looking for seven or eight minutes, he found two "maybes" but said he would know the mark on the back better.  I asked him why?  He said, "It was my duty at home to dry the dishes, and I saw the back of those dishes many times."  

I then went to the website, https://www.kovels.com/marks/pottery-porcelain-marks/crown.html?eid=20775.  After he looked at several dozen identification marks, he told me to stop.  He remembered the mark on the china as that shown below.

  

  

Meissen China Mark

  
This mark was on the back of the Cline Meissen China.  Research shows that china with this mark would have been made between 1773 and 1814.  Dad’s grandmother, Anna Eliza Blount Kline, told him she inherited the china from her husband’s family.  Most of the china was destroyed in the 1926 Cline house fire in Morehouse.

Next week, we will finalize my Dad's memories of his childhood home and learn about the fire that destroyed the Cline home in 1926.

  

The Cline Home in Morehouse, MO - 1890-1926 - Part 1 of 3

My father, Curtis Henry Cline, was born in this house on May 14, 1911, in Morehouse, Missouri, to William Henry and Nancy Lena (Kline) Cline.  He was the next to the youngest child in this family. Curtis had three brothers and three sisters.  Howard was born in 1891 and died 1967, a sister, Eula Cline Goolsby born in 1895 and died 1982, William "Ed" was born 1899 and died 1957, Gazwell born 1903 and died 1983, Vera Cline Johnson born 1905 and died 1995, Grace Cline Dye born 1907 and died 1989.  My dad had one younger brother, Clarence Dennis "Cotton" born November 19, 1913, in Morehouse, Missouri, when Curtis Henry was 2 years old.  Less than a year later, my Dad's mother Nancy Lena passed away on August 31, 1914, in a hospital at Cairo, Illinois, at the age of 44.  Cairo had the nearest hospital to Morehouse.

My brothers and I heard about the beautiful house our Dad grew up in many times.  Late in his life, he visited me and my husband, Tom, in Baton Rouge, Louisiana.  We took my dad and mother for a day in sugar cane country.  There was a large plantation home nearby, and we took my parents inside for a tour.  My dad's eyes lit up when we went into the dining room.  Then tears came to his eyes when he said, "The house I grew up in had a beautiful dining room something like this.  The table was long like this one, with twelve chairs to seat twelve people."  I knew the Cline family had a large set of fine china which dad and my aunts and uncles used to talk about.  They all said their home was one of the largest and most beautiful in Morehouse.  Their Uncle Madison Tickell and his family had one identical to their home, except the Cline home had more gingerbread accents.  It was an enjoyable day spent with my parents on that visit.

When we returned home to Baton Rouge, I took my dad into

our office and had him describe their home and the dishes he remembered so well.  Dad recalled the house had two floors, and it was made of cypress wood from a local sawmill.  Curtis remembered it was an early colonial style home which was popular at that time.  The house was painted white, and the boys had to repaint the house every other year.  The broad front had porches up and down stairs extending the width of the house.  Two large rooms and a hall opened on this porch. He laughed saying that his sisters call it a gallery,

The back of the house showing the "L".

not a porch.  The doors were paneled, and the hall door had a transom of small panes.

There were nine rooms in the main part of the house, four large rooms downstairs and five bedrooms upstairs.  The kitchen and pantries were back in the "L" part of the house.  There were two bedrooms above the kitchen and pantries.  

Curtis with brother
Dennis and pet dog
as teenagers.

Curtis talked about the family pets and the family's fine buggy.  They had several horses that all the family members use to ride, but they had a special horse that was utilized with the buggy.  He remembered his Grandmother and sister Eula took the horse and buggy to New Madrid once a month to take care of business.  They left after breakfast and did not get back to the house until it was time to eat supper.  He laughed and said, "Today, you could drive there, take care of business, and be back home within two or three hours."  Then he recalled they had a dog and a cat too and everyone had their favorite pet, but he enjoyed them all.

Next week, learn more about my father's memories related to this fine house.

Henry Cline Almost Reached His Goal

     

Henry Cline - 1918

       William Henry Cline

 1859-1949

Photos from

1918 and 1947
He was my grandpa!

Henry Cline
1947

The photo above is how my father remembers his father.  The picture on the left is the last known photo of Henry Cline, taken in 1947.  He was eight-seven-years-old in the photograph on the left.  I only have a faint memory of my grandpa Cline.  I was five-years-old when he died, and he was in a nursing home the last six months of his life.  I do remember climbing a very steep hill to reach the nursing home where he lived at the time of his death.  My brothers remember him more.  I also remember family members use to ask him what time it was and he would pull his watch out and tell them.  It was an elegant gold pocket watch with a gold chain.  I also remember he had bandages on his face and arm when I saw him.  He had skin cancer, and then he had to have one arm taken off above his elbow due to cancer.  In the 1940s they did not have the medical procedures they do now.  They just removed the body part that was cancerous.  

Henry Cline was born in 1859 in the town of Moscow, Kentucky.  The mode of transportation then was a horse, horse and buggies, steamboats, or trains.  In his early years, he saw both Union and Confederate soldiers traversing through or by his family farm in Hickman County, Kentucky. His Tickell grandparents lived only five or six miles away in Fulton County, and his Cline grandpa lived on the adjoining farm to his family.  The town of Moscow was thriving in the 1860s until the turn of the century.  Moscow had a train depot, hotel, bank and more than one store that carried groceries, excellent dress materials and quality China, as well as other things that families needed.  Henry's father, William, took over his father's (Aaron) business in town when he died.  I counted over 60 families living in Moscow on the 1870 census records.  Today, there is less than a dozen families in Moscow. 

Henry was educated in the public schools in Moscow.  After graduation, he helped his father on the farm and dating a few young ladies in the community.  When his father died in 1885, Henry and his siblings moved across the Mississippi River to New Madrid, Missouri where his mother's (Tickell) family lived.  It was there that he met his second cousin, Lena Kline.  They fell in love, and in 1888, they married in the Methodist Episcopal Church, South in New Madrid.  That church still stands today.

Henry and Lena had three daughters and five sons.  My father, Curtis H. Cline, was one of their sons.  Henry and his family were a prominent family in New Madrid County, Missouri.  Henry had a good life where his generation saw travel change from horse and buggies to airplanes.  

One of my grandpa Cline's goals was to reach ninety-years-of-age.  He died on the 17th of August 1949, and he would have been ninety on the 29th of December, 1949.  He missed his goal by a little over four months.  Had he not set that goal, he could have died much sooner based on the cancerous issue he suffered.  The fact that Henry lived so long is a lesson on the importance of setting goals.  I wish he could have lived a healthy life well into his nineties so I could have gotten to know him well.  God's blessings Henry Cline, I know you are enjoying heaven cancer free.

Evening Walks on the Beach are Relaxing

The older I get, the less I enjoy the sun.  When walking on the beach during the day, the glare from the sun on the sand is uncomfortable.  I found that a quite walk on the beach in the evening is relaxing.  There are only a few people on the beach and the roar of the ocean is exhilarating to my mind and soul.

I took a photograph of the setting sun in Gulf Shores, Alabama several years ago.  I love orange in the sky at sunset.  A few weeks after returning home, I printed out the photograph and started painting it.  I tried to capture the intensity of the approaching darkness, while showing the beautiful sky with the reflection from the sky on the water.

Painting is a very personal thing.  I tried to put my feelings about my subject into the painting in a way the viewer can feel the emotion.  My goal is to inspire, not just reproduce a subject on a canvas.  In the case of this painting, I want the viewer to be inspired by my chosen colors, by the coolness of the approaching night, and to feel their spirit be lifted by the sky touching the sea.

Southern Porches and Warm Friendships in the 1950s

The above "Southern Porches" is 

one of my paintings from 2015.

When I think back to my hometown of Sikeston, Missouri, I remember homes with grand porches and some porches that were humble in style.  What they had in common was the gracious hospitality extended from those porches.  In the 1950's, people moved at a much slower pace.  They took the time to stop and visit with their neighbors and to have a glass of brewed tea over ice.  The homeowner would never think of giving a guest a plastic cup of ice tea.  Back then, they served drinks of hand-squeezed lemonade or brewed ice tea on attractive trays, brought from the kitchen to the porch.

Children were expected to play outside in the 1950s.  Their games relied on imagination, with few props, and they exerted a lot of energy.  If the weather was bad, or it was raining, many children played on their front porches.  Girls played jacks or dressed their dolls.  Boys only played on the porch when it was necessary.

Most people in their 70s now, well remember their mothers saying, "you kids go outside and play."  When the weather was clear, most kids rode bikes from early in the day until it started getting dark.  They knew to go home when the sun began to go down, or some had a designated time to be inside the house at the end of the day.

Some of the games I remember playing were Hide and Seek - where one or more kids hide, and one person stays on base.  The child waiting behind (the hunter), would cover their eyes and count to an agreed number, before going on the hunt for the others.  Those hiding tried to run back to base before the hunter could find them.  If they made it back without being tagged, they were safe from becoming the hunter.

My brothers and their friends used to play Kick the Can.  It only required a used can that one of the Mom's provided from the kitchen.  The game was usually played in the driveway or street and could involve any number of kids. It was like neighborhood soccer before American's knew anything about soccer.

Children also played Hop Scotch.  It involved a driveway or sidewalk and the use of chalk.  Players started off using two feet, then one foot, and alternated between the two until they reached the end.  One needed both balance and rhythm to be good at this game.  Girls were better at it than boys, and usually sang songs or chatted while playing.

Then, my favorite was Red Rover. It was a group activity. You needed at least six kids to play it, and eight or ten worked even better. Each side lined up facing the other, clasping hands with their teammates. One team would send a runner to the other team to crash in between two of the other team’s players, where their hands met. The runner tried to break the hands apart, while the defending team sought to stop the attack and catch the runner. If the runner broke through, they grabbed a player from the other team and took them back to join their team. If the runner didn’t break through, then the runner was captured by the team that stopped them.  At times, this could go on for an hour.

I don't understand why, when one turns sixty-five or seventy, their minds drift back to their childhood.  Surely, we felt safe and loved back then, and more importantly, we had few responsibilities or worries.  It could be an escape from the trials, tribulations, and health issues of one's current situation.  Today, I remember the good times I had on my front porch with neighborhood girls.  Have a wonderful week, and think happy thoughts.