Runaway
Gina McKnight, Monday Creek Publishing Author, Freelance Writer, Equestrian, Blogger, and Poet! Welcome to my international blog about horses, writers, authors, books, cowboys, equestrians, photographers, artists, poets, poems, and more horses. As seen in #FloridaEquineAthlete, #ArabianFinishLine, #HorseGirlTV, #LivingRuralTV, #AmericanHorsePublications, #trueCOWBOYmagazine, #HayNetUK, and #GirlGab.com...
Saturday, December 31, 2022
An Interview with Ohio Poet Wendy McVicker
Monday, December 26, 2022
Milliron Monday: Meme's Musings Part 5
Abbott "Pete" Smith D.V.M.: June 16, 1938 - February 22, 2010 Virginia Joyann "Jody" Haley Smith: April 2, 1938 - May 9, 2021 |
Monday greetings! Meme's Musings Part 6, Virginia (aka Meme/Gigi - Jody's mother), writes about her teenage years, including high school graduation and her journey to college.
Olden Days
Mrs. Huellet, our neighbor, had a special cookie jar with my name on it just inside her porch door. She kept it full of cookies, all different kinds. My grandmother only made sugar cookies and I liked Mrs. Huellet's the best. Trity Thursh was a natural when it came to playing the piano. We went to the movies to hear Trity play. There were no 'talkies' or sound. Lines flashed across the bottom of the screen telling the conversation. When the horses galloped on screen, Trity played real fast and loud. When it was sad, she played softly, almost had you crying. For years she played at the movie theater and I'd go just to hear her play.
At home every Friday, it was a great day when the iceman bought a 50 lb. piece of ice that fit in a box so we could keep milk and meat in it for a few days. Also the milk was delivered by the bucket and was nice and fresh. By the next Wednesday it wasn't so good. Ice had melted in the ice box.
We had a basement but not a root cellar which was cooler. When we lived downtown, as many people did back of their stores, we had a house beside the stores. We had a storm cellar which we had to crawl in. Fortunately, we never used it in my time.
My grandfather owned the building which has his grocery. There was a variety store and hat store. The Honeymoon Apartments were above. (It's all torn down now with a filling station and parking lot there). I used to go with Mrs. Waltermire (my grandmother) to get the rent. She would knock on the doors calling out "This is Mrs. Waltermire." Sometimes they would open the door and hand out $5.00 for the months rent. It was a lot of money in those days. Remember there was no running H20 nor washrooms but we had the best six holer in town, with cloth wipers (which, of course, were burned daily), put into the corner, cup of lime, no toilet paper. Folks from the country came in town on Saturday which made the Waltermire Corner a busy place.
1925: I graduated from Forest High. Since I'd been gone all winter I didn't have anyone to walk down the aisle with to get my diploma - so I thought. The new editor of the Forest newspaper had a "ne'er do well" son who didn't have a diploma, so to take up his time he returned to high school - it seemed he was very popular as he was 20 years old - that's a lot of difference from 18. All the girls wanted to down the aisle with him. He said he would rather take a chance with the girl coming back (that was me). They told him how short I was but he said, "Great". He was nice and very attentive so my return was easy and pleasant.
When I decided to go South to college it became a huge adventure. First of all, Mother said, "Anywhere you want to go and accepted, I will see to it you can go." So, I took all the college addresses from Good Housekeeping and other magazines and wrote for information. As the letters came back, I'd save the ones I was interested in. I was accepted at the University of Penna, Agnes Scott, Brenau College, University of Colorado, and a couple more. For two years I had written for information on schools that were advertised in magazines. Finally, I had to make a decision. (Ohio really had the best schools). I put the brochures from each school on the bed, closed my eyes and stabbed one with my grandmother's long hat pin. The hat pin came nearest Brenau College for women in Gainesville, Georgia. We didn't know how to pronounce Brenau - I didn't know anyone who ever went there.
The trip to Brenau in Gainesville, Georgia, was a little scary. Two train changes: a different train at Cincy and Atlanta. Mother had someone meet me in Cincy and Atlanta so I got along okay. The girls that met me at the railroad station said, "Welcome, little Damn Yankee - let's go get a 'dope'. So when it was served, I said, "This isn't a 'dope', there's no ice cream." Their 'dope' was like a 'Coke'. So I got the name added to Damn Yankee - Dopey - but they were seniors and always remained friendly.
I lived in the ZTA house. You were supposed to walk to town on one street. One time when I was downtown a woman was walking in the street with a huge bundle on her head and in each arm - a car came way too close to her and she jumped and dropped the bundles. I said, "Poor Soul, let's help the lady." Soon after she showed me a paper that gave her permission to be on that street which saved her two miles to get home. Soon after that, at the drug store, a Senior came to me and said, "You are to get back to Miss Austin's office, now." She was the Dean of Women and took messages and, of course, I thought something must have happened to my Mother or Grandmother. When I got there I was told to sit in the hall so I sat there through the dinner hour. Finally, I knocked on the door and asked why I was there. She went into a long reason that I didn't understand, but I was put on Campus stay for two weeks because I disgraced Brenau by helping the lady in the street.
So my four years in the South was an extra education. Some of the different ways they said things was weird - I was asked to walk to the banket (curb). You trim a pencil (sharpen). Friday was always a big day, in school and at home. At school, ending various chapters in the books, if we hadn't finished it was up to us to do so. Many times we didn't do it, which made the next chapter less interesting. I always skipped through the chapter so I knew what was coming up. And it paid.
Things that happened to me
Am told when I was about three years old, a pet rabbit tore the end of my third finger of my right hand off when I was feeding it. I still have the scar.
I was with friends up at Lake Erie and we were wading - hand in hand - they let go of my hand when I slipped into a hole. Not knowing how to swim I got a lot of water in my lungs. I was rescued by a life guard when he could grab my hair and pull me out of the hole. I've been afraid of swimming ever since and I used to love it.
I was always a Tom Boy, climbing trees, getting on top of roofs. I had a swing in the cherry tree and one time the rope broke and I was twisted around the trunk of the tree. Uncle Doc made a brace out of yardsticks and leather which I wore for months to keep my back straight. Remember, there was no drug store and one had to make do.
One Sunday, after church, I went out to a friends home in the country. We decided to ride the horses - farm horses - no bridles or saddles. When they rang the dinner bell the farm horses made a b-line for the barn. The only thing we had to hang onto was their manes. I slipped under the horse's head and I still remember it took forever for the four legs to pass over me. My friend kept yelling, "Let go!" which resulted in a dislocated shoulder and broken arm.
I was about 12 when I fell 32 steps and landed on my neck. Mother was with me and she thought I was dead. The result for a year, my fingers twitched all the time and a rib was pressing a nerve in my neck and back. During the summer I often went up to Lakeside to visit Uncle Beecher (my grandfather's nephew who lived with my grandparents as a 16 year boy after his parents died out West, my grandparents had been married only six months when Uncle Beecher moved in. I think my grandmother resented it). They took me to a friend who was an osteopath (unheard of in medical terms in Forest). I'll never forget the relief he gave me when he pressed his fingers in certain places in my back. He said, "Do you want to jerk again?" as he pressed. "Oh, no!" I yelled. I was cured. He said I would have to be careful because of the length of time I had to wear the yardsticks.
And then there was Phyllis Diller!
At a high school reunion Phyllis asked that her favorite English teacher and Drama Coach be there for sure. My Mother, Jessie Waltermire Rhonemus, a teacher for more than forty years, was that person.
Phyllis arrived in a long car with a hair dresser, driver and secretary in tow. The perfect specimen of a person that had made the "big time". Of course, she was the whole show and never relinquished the stage to anyone else.
When she met me, she made a very off-color remark as she didn't know that I existed and even a worse word was used when she saw the picture of Mother's family. But years later when Mother was in a nursing home and Phyllis was the main attraction at a fundraising musical event (she always had her own piano with her and played for relaxation before going on the stage) she spent several hours visiting her. And she arrived in all her glory as before. Mother said, "But you don't look like Phyllis." And Phyllis replied, "Of course I don't as I've had all the years of aging removed." She has had many facelifts but that laugh is still there.
Mother always remembered her as the one causing disturbance with remarks made under her breath and getting the kids around her in an uproar. Mother usually had her sit up front of the classroom.
The students called Mother "The Bull Dog" as she made sure they got their assignments. When the students entered the Ohio State schools and it was known that Jessie Rhonemus had been their English teacher, they were excused from some Freshman test as it was known they had had good preparation. And Phyllis was very verbal in her praise of Mother's teaching. Bringing her gifts of flowers, candy and a record of her music.
~ ~ ~ ~
The final episode of Meme's Musings will post next week. Enjoy the journey to 2023! Happy New Year 💓!
Saturday, December 24, 2022
Merry Christmas 2022
Tuesday, December 20, 2022
An Interview with Ohio Author T.W. Harvey
TWH: Answering Lincoln’s Call: War in America opens with the Confederate bombardment of the Union Fort Sumter in Charleston harbor in April 1861. President Abraham Lincoln immediately called for 75,000 men of the northern states to enlist in the army to put down the southern uprising down. Lincoln thought his forces could accomplish it in two months, maybe three, but after the Confederate victory at the first Battle at Manassas, it became apparent it was not going to happen that fast and more men were needed.
Recruitment meetings were held throughout all the northern states including in Muskingum County, Ohio, some 80 miles east of the state capital, Columbus. My great grandfather, Thomas S. Armstrong, and his best friend who would ultimately become his brother-in-law, George W. Porter, enlisted with Tom’s brother, Wilbur, and three other friends in the 78th Ohio Volunteer Infantry, but only after they considered the risks of going into harm’s way for their country.
We know this because in 1992, we found 250 letters Armstrong and Porter wrote home to their families about their experiences in the Civil War. The letters detailed how difficult the decision to enlist was for some and how easy it was for others. But they went much farther than that as they told us of their experiences through the entire conflict which ended in April 1865. Thus, they became the basis for my historical novels, this one and the two that follow it in the trilogy, Seeing the Elephant: One Man’s Return to the Horrors of the Civil War, which is Tom Armstrong’s story, and From Vicksburg to Bennett Place: The Long March to Victory, George Porter’s story, all three very true.
Not only did the letters provide extraordinary detail about the war in the Western theater, but they also provide insight into what life at home was like, back in the 1860s, and how different it was from today. Back then, America was an agrarian society, and life was based on working on the farm, going to church every Sunday, and making sure your children went to the closest school and were educated properly. Pretty simple, really, compared to today, but more on that a little later.
TWH: In 2016, we donated the letters to Ohio Wesleyan University (OWU) since my great grandfather matriculated there in 1859 while my wife and brother enrolled in 1959 with most everyone in the family going there except my wife’s sister, our dads, and me. The letters themselves are in the archives at Beeghly Library at OWU, and they were digitized for anyone to see. Interested readers can go to… https://digitalcommons.owu.edu/harvey/
It is a unique and rare collection of historical documents as they provide a first-person account of the events of the Civil War. I have been told it may be the only one of very few collections of this magnitude and depth.
TWH: Yes, my great-grandfather, Thomas Armstrong. I’m named for him, and it was extremely interesting to read his letters that showed his personality in which I saw some of my own traits. For example, he was a teacher before and after the war, and I knew at a very early age that was also what I wanted to do and ultimately did.
Furthermore, he also thought things through very carefully before making decisions which annoyed George Porter, but that was who Tom was. Now, I don’t always consider things as thoroughly as he did, but I do evaluate alternatives and the effects of decisions and actions. I can’t say I am exactly like him, nobody could be, but his devotion to his family, his faith, the love of books, and the way he communicated through his letters and other writing struck home.
TWH: As mentioned, the letters told the story, thinking about whether to enlist or not and making the final decision, in consideration of the thoughts and feelings of family and friends. Then, enlisting in the 78th Ohio, going to training at Camp Zanesville, being ordered to Kentucky to join General Ulysses S. Grant’s army, where it arrived at Fort Donelson while the battle between North and South was raging; from there it was on to Shiloh in southern Tennessee, the second fight in the Western theater after Fort Donelson that started to turn the war in favor of the union
With what the letters told me, I conducted meticulous research into things such as the towns where recruiting meetings took place, the location of Camp Zanesville and what it looked like, the 2nd Street wharf in Zanesville where the 78th boarded the steamers to journey down the Muskingum River to the Ohio, then to the Mississippi, and finally to Fort Donelson.
Then there were the marches and the battles at Fort Donelson and Shiloh about which volumes have been written. So, all I had to do was fit the letters to the research and then create what human thoughts and actions might have been as the war raged on. What followed were conversations, decisions, and actions that led to the results the research found.
Was I correct in that? We’ll never know, but folks who have read Seeing the Elephant seem to think so. Many have said they felt like they were involved in those conversations, marching from Camp Zanesville to the wharf in freezing weather, and seeing the dead and wounded at Fort Donelson and Shiloh. That was my aim, and it seems I achieved it.
TWH: The 78th Ohio at Shiloh. Upon arriving in southern Tennessee, the 78th Ohio, a part of General Lew Wallace’s 3rd Division of Grant’s Army of the Tennessee was ordered to guard warehouses and destroy Confederate railroad tracks some eight miles north of Shiloh where the battle would take place. On the morning of April 6, 1862, the Confederate army attacked Grant’s forces, and he sent word to Wallace to get to the battlefield on the double to reinforce the 5th Division of General William T. Sherman. So I had to figure out the logistics of that march.
That would have been easy, but George’s letter told me Wallace chose a road that he believed would satisfy Grant’s order, but it wasn’t to be and he had to retrace his steps back to camp and then find another way, a delay of several hours. That meant I had to find additional detailed maps of southern Tennessee to determine how the march would have continued, including the detours and delays that caused the 3rd Division to arrive more than ten hours late. Wallace was sacked for his failure to follow orders, dereliction of duties the Union command called it. But trying to figure out how the march took place and then describing it was a challenge.
TWH: As previously noted, both North and South were agrarian cultures in the 1860s although their methods of farming were entirely different. Slavery was an integral element of the Southern way of life while it was not in the North, as members of the family took responsibility for the crops and gardens, putting their own hands in the dirt. It didn’t work that way in the South.
Life was slow back then as opposed to our fast-paced, commercial culture of today, as we are bombarded by the internet, cable television, and cell phones. It is safe to say that Porter and Armstrong would be shocked at things today and most likely would not understand any of it at all.
Education was important to all in the 1860s as I have said, but today we see children being taught things like critical race theory, trans gender choices, and cancel culture where if you don’t like something, you just make it go away. These subjects should not be taught because children at all levels of school, even high school, do not really understand what they mean. As a result, traditional subjects are not being covered as they should be as we see the understanding of mathematics, reading, science, and history declining as shown by recent lower test scores. Add to that, there is a lack of discipline in the classroom and a disrespect of teachers that have resulted in physical confrontations. It is disturbing to hear about teachers and students in fist fights.
Religion was also very important as families made it the center of their lives, saying grace at every meal and attending three services every Sunday at the churches near where they lived. Today, at least in many Protestant denominations, we see membership and attendance decreasing.
If I sound pessimistic, I am, and what is most disturbing, I do not see any way to reverse what I am seeing and hearing.
TWH: No. The letters gave me all I need to know about Tom, George, and their families. In addition to them, I had to include men such as Lew Wallace, Sherman, John Logan, and Grant, so I had to do research on them.
For locals such as Mortimer Leggett, Zachariah Chandler, leaders of the 78th Ohio, and friends of George and Tom like Bob Hanson, John W.A. Gillespie, and Henry Axline, the letters gave me insight as to who they were.
But, to make the story work, I had to invent other characters such as Chauncey Wescott, a saloon owner, Tobias Bishop, a sergeant in the 78th, James Ferguson, a banker, and Micah Schwartz, a tailor. About 40% of the characters are fictionalized who I needed for conversations with the main characters and to bring the events the letters told to life.
TWH: I’m taking a break. However, I am conducting further research on my family through 750 additional letters we found that were written anywhere from 1836 through 1888. These letters and more research on such topics as slavery both prior to and after the Emancipation Proclamation and reconstruction during the Grant presidency will result in books to be undertaken in 2023 going forward.
In reading these letters and transcribing them, I have discovered they will be entirely different than the trilogy that only describes the experiences of Tom Armstrong and George Porter in the American Civil War.
- My Scottish heritage: the castle built by the clan in the 1530s still stands
- One brother, no sisters
- Always lived in Ohio
- Very interested in soccer
- Played baseball in Jr. High, Sr. High, and college
- Been to 47 of the 50 states
- Worked in Russia in 1997 and 1998
- Started teaching at the college level in 1999
- Received two literary awards for Seeing the Elephant
- Been to 18 foreign countries
Monday, December 19, 2022
Milliron Monday: Meme's Musings Part 4
Abbott "Pete" Smith D.V.M.: June 16, 1938 - February 22, 2010 Virginia Joyann "Jody" Haley Smith: April 2, 1938 - May 9, 2021 |
Here we are again, a new Monday and revisiting Virginia Wurl Rhonemus Haley's pink pamphlet of history. Part 4:
Gloria Swanson Bob (plus the Green Worm)
Soon after returning from camp, because I was complaining about headaches, Uncle Doc was sure they were coming from the heavy 15 curls and my thick hair and I should get a haircut. There were no beauty salons and one woman didn't go to the barber shop and it was too big a job for "home cutting". So I was taken to Toledo which meant a four hour train ride. Opal, Carl's wife, Uncle Doc's daughter-in-law, took me to a big store and by the time the cutting was in progress, people were standing and watching - making all kinds of remarks: "Why would anyone want to get rid of those beautiful curls?" "Wonder, how thick and heavy that hair is?" etc. I got what was known as the Gloria Swanson Bob and oh! did it feel good and the headaches went away.
Men in my life that were friends:
- Bart [her future husband]
- Uncle Doc, his son Dr. Carl Munday
- Justin Myers, the Banker
- Mr. Nye, Butcher, always gave me liver for my kitty
- Mr. Snider, Baker, always gave me a sweet roll.
- Mr. Crum, always put an extra piece of veal on my sandwiches
- Leo Jones, helped me with my math
- Scrap Weiderman, brought me Whitman Samplers every Tuesday evening.
- Daddy Stoll, owner of Camp Twa-ne-ko-tah
- Colonel Moore, Brown Uniform
- Buddy Blake, Blue Cadet
- Robert Thrush, Schoolmate
- Walter Crawley, Minister's son studying to be a doctor at Emory Atlanta
~ ~ ~ ~
Christmas is a week away! We will return to Meme's pink pamphlet next Monday, if Christmas Day isn't too overwhelming at my house. Have a very Merry Christmas!
Sunday, December 18, 2022
An Interview with Ohio Author Joy MillerUpton
From southeastern Ohio, Joy MillerUpton is the author of Journeys: Finding Joy on Horseback, a memoir. From Joy’s bio: Born 11 days after the bombing of Pearl Harbor, Joy S. MillerUpton has always felt the tug of history. Journalists, in Joy’s eyes, are historians. After graduating with a BS in Journalism from Ohio University, she began working as a journalist. Over a period of more than four decades Joy’s career has included freelance writing and photography, newspaper journalism, and marketing. She has always valued accuracy and balance in all her forms of storytelling; trying to get it right, for history.
Welcome, Joy!
GM: Your book was released last year. Tell us about your authorship, author journey, and how it has enriched your life...
Pre-signed copies are available at White’s Mill, 2White’s Mill Dr., Athens; LittleProfessor Book Center, 65 S. Court St., Athens; the gift shop at OhioHealth O’Bleness Hospital, 55 Hospital Dr., Athens; Homegrown on Main, 65 W. Main St., Logan; DustyBluesGallery, 14775 OH-664, Logan; and at Epilogue Bookery, 201 W. MainSt., Lancaster.
Although a date has not been set, I have been invited to speak at Epilogue Bookery in 2023 and plan several library presentations, including the Logan Hocking County Library. I hope to also speak at the 2023 Big Foot Festival in August.
GM: List 10 things that
your fans may not know about you...
- Over the years, one of my favorite equines to ride was our little mule, Barney. At 13.1 hands, I could easily step up on him. The tallest mount I’ve ever ridden was also a mule—he was 18 hands and I had to get on a picnic table to mount.
- Barney never bucked but once he got startled and spun under me, dumped me and then proceeded to walk just a few steps ahead of me, all two miles through the woods to home.
- If you want me to sit through a two-hour movie there better be at least one horse in it.
- I am shy.
- But I can talk about horses all day long.
- You will never find me without long underwear if the temperature is below 45 degrees. That includes indoors.
- When I was five years old I started first grade in Yermo, California (the Mohave Desert) and wore cowboy boots to school every day.
- When I was in the third grade a mean boy sat in front of me. Once I had to defend myself by stabbing him with my pencil. The teacher deemed it self-defense and I didn’t get in trouble.
- When I was in 10th grade my family lived in a deep south state. At all assemblies “Dixie” would be played and every one of the 3,000 students but me would stand with their hands over their hearts.
- My instrument of choice for the high school marching band and orchestra was the trombone (I earned first chair for my efforts).
Joy & Calico 1954 |
Joy & Libby |
Milliron Monday: Silver Bridge 1967
Photo Courtesy Associated Press Abbott "Pete" Smith D.V.M.: June 16, 1938 - February 22, 2010 Virginia Joyann "Jody"...
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