Places Gone

As I was writing yesterday's blog, I thought about the cousin who visited Jefferson City and drove by Grandma and Grandad's house. He reminded me on Facebook last night how sad the neighborhood looks now. Even though I've been back to the city as an adult, I didn't make any attempt to find that old neighborhood. And I'm that I didn't, so the neighborhood of my childhood remains intact in my memory.

It's the same way with the farm where I grew up. If you drove by that site now, you could hardly tell there was ever a home there. My cousin bought the farm from my folks 35 years ago. My folks continued to live there as long as they were able. But when they were no longer making their home on the farm, all the buildings were dozed down. The house, the barn, the old outhouse, the storage shed behind the house, even the cellar was caved in and leveled off.

The big old oak tree that was at the west edge of the yard was still standing the last time I went by the farm, and there is a water spigot where the yard used to be. It's tough to top that hill and not see the farm nestled at the bottom of the hill. Actually, the top of the hill doesn't look right either – I don't think there's anything left of the home that was there.

So many homes of my childhood are nonexistent now. It's hard to drive by the old Hart place and not see that magnificent two-story home on the hill across the road from their lake. That was a cool house. I'm glad to be Facebook friends with classmate Jim and see the pictures of his home in Brookfield – another magnificent two-story home, which is exactly what I'd expect from him.

I grew up going to church at Mandeville. At that time, there were a few buildings there. The brick church is still there, as is Greggs' house. But the old school is gone, as is the old church (Presbyterian, I think). Wampler's store is no longer there – there were two buildings, the regular store and a feed store. The Isaacs home is still there, but the Graham house is gone. I think the Wampler home still stands, and the “new” Barker house is still in good shape and home to a young family.

I think the hardest place of my childhood for me to visit is Bogard. Oh, my, where do I start? The main school building is gone, and so is the gym building. My grandmother's house, where we lived for a few years, is still standing but is empty and overgrown. The churches are still there, though one is now housing a soap making business.

The downtown area, though, is pretty much a ghost town. It's hard to drive down that main street and try to describe to hubby what a bustling little place Bogard used to be. Murphys live in what used to be the hardware store; otherwise the downtown buildings are pretty much empty. I remember what fun it was to go downtown when I was in grade school. The bank was on the corner. There was a restaurant, body shop, hardware store, Les Babcock's feed store, the grocery store, the furniture store, the funeral home, Mrs. Baggs' notions shop. Beyond that was the big old house that had functioned for earlier generations as the local hotel. The train tracks still ran through town – the train went through on Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday.

As teenagers, my cousin and I earned a bit of spending money doing the music for funerals – he sang and I played the piano. I hate to tell you how excited we could get when we saw the outside lights on at the funeral home – the signal that they had a “client”. We could really startle friends who came home from college with us with our reaction to those lights when we drove in. In a small town, you earn a buck wherever you can!

Hopefully I'll never lose my memory – but if I do, I hope I can hang onto that little corner where the places of my childhood stay!