They had moved so many times. At last it seemed they were settled. Franklin had been their home for five
years. Wade, the fifth son, was born
here. Nice quiet southern town to finish
raising the boys. Jack, the eldest son,
married at eighteen, knowing he would soon receive his letter from Uncle
Sam. It was a year coming. At nineteen, he left a young wife and
ten-day-old baby girl behind.
Those were heart-breaking days, but all wars are so. Six months later, he was home with a medical
discharge.
Eighteen months later, Charles (second son), also married,
received his letter. Three month
training at Camp Robinson, Arkansas.
Then off to Japan. Fear for him
walked with the family daily.
Then the war was over, and lumber was to be had. They would build here and spend the rest of their lives.
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She awoke with the phone ringing with quick, urgent rings
several times before she could reach it.
Fear that it might be from the war department went through her mind.
Such a relief when a voice said, “This is Doctor O’Neal your
landlord and dentist.” She must have
forgotten an appointment. Very bluntly
he said, “I am selling the house you are renting: do you want to buy it?”
Without thinking how hard houses were to find, she said “no” and hung up the phone.
Looking at the house, there was really nothing wrong with
it. Just was not the house they had
planned. House sold at once of
course. Two months to find a place to
live. It turned into a real
nightmare. Every day they looked,
nothing. Then to the smaller towns close
by. Nothing, always the same
answer. When the war was over, everyone
was building.
Time was getting short when the husband said with some
hesitation, “I can look over where I am working. Is about one hundred miles. You will not like it. Looks as though we may be compelled to take
whatever we can find.”
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At last the call came, “I bought a house today.” What a relief. It is rundown but has possibilities, is three
miles from town. Arthur (fourteen) and Donald (eleven) were wild with joy. They had never lived in the country.
Father said, “Jack and I will start cleaning the place up,
after work nights. I will get some of
the furniture moved before you come.
Will make it easier on you and the old folks.”
We packed and waited.
When the truck came, the man in charge said, “Captain said bring all
kitchen furniture.” As they drove away,
everyone looked in dismay at the completely empty kitchen. Four adults, two boys, two babies to feed.
Soon a big truck came for the rest of the furniture, the men told us to take our time as they would place the furniture for us.
We cleaned the house for the family that would move in that
afternoon. Grandfather had gone with the
truck, anxious to see the new home.
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| Franklin, La. Main Street Image courtesy of Wikimedia Commons |
It was a rather pleasant journey until we drove into the
town. Railroad tracks down the middle of
Main Street, stores on each side of the street somehow looked out of
place. Bayou ran through the edge of
town, and stores were built along the bayou banks. A strange looking town, must be very
old. A far cry from the tree lined
boulevard that was the main street at Franklin.
Crossing the bayou bridge, driving several blocks, crossed a railroad track and started down a narrow winding gravel road. A few small houses, then nothing but sugarcane for over a mile. Then a Plantation store. A few shacks with small black children playing on steps. More sugarcane, like a wilderness.
The boys started bickering, the babies cried, the old
Grandmother who had Parkinson’s started shaking so hard the woman wondered if
she would live to the end of this move.
Suddenly they turned into a narrow drive lined with sycamore
trees. Front yard was so full of tall
horse weeds, you would not have noticed the house in passing. Boys stopped bickering, babies quieted.
-----------------------------------
No one spoke, just looked. A run down
cypress house, on two acres of land. In
the midst of a cane field. Quarters
about a mile behind. Weatherboarding
falling off, no screens, rickety front steps to porch. At last Jack looked back and said, “Sorry,
Mom. Was only place Dad could
find.” The woman shivered. Of all the places, this was the most dreary
and lonely she had ever seen. She could
hardly bring herself to believe her husband had bought it. His judgment was usually so sound.
-----------------------------------
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| Art, Faye, Denise & Suzonne in front of the house in Plaquemine, circa 1959. |
At last, Donald and his dog jumped from the car, up the
steps to the edge of the porch. He looked up and said, “Mom, we have a magnolia
tree, and it is blooming.” The woman
sighed and gave a slight smile, we might as well get out. Carefully they walked up the steps, to the edge
of the porch. Sure enough, hidden by the
weeds was a tall magnolia, in full bloom.
Everyone breathed in the sweet fragrance of the flowers. Two boys raced into the house and as quickly
out again.
Yelling, “Mom, come see we have a haunted house!” Everyone went slowly inside. Sure enough it looked quite eerie. Paper put on years before over cheesecloth
hung from the ceiling. On the walls in
spots as though something had played hide and seek along them were spots of
paper.
Walking into the kitchen was a startling change. The wainscoting was snow white, the woodwork
pale green, new linoleum on floor. All
furniture in place. Even the teakettle
was on the stove. A cold water faucet
stuck out of the wall.
Where was the hot water heater, sink, cabinets? None.
But the drains and toilet did work.
Also, the water from the faucet was like ice.
 |
| In the kitchen circa 1952. |
The windows were open and a light breeze blew through. A
wasp swung in and out one of the windows, as though questioning who had invaded
his domain.
 |
| "Sit, Mother." Gail, Jack, Jesse & Carrie (seated) |
The woman pulled a rocker into the kitchen and said, “Sit,
Mother. It is more comfortable in
here. I will make some coffee." Everyone else was looking here and
there. Quite a large house, rooms all
large, ceilings all high, two fire places.
No closets.
The babies were playing contentedly on the cool floor. The boys started arguing again.
Waiting for the water to boil, the woman walked to the front
porch, looked up a the magnolia again.
Tears suddenly rolled down her face, so tired and yet, must be thankful
they had found a place to live. But
could they ever make this a place to be happy in? Still looking at the tree, the beauty of its
white fragrant flowers penetrated her whole being. She wiped her eyes and spoke to the
tree. “Thank you for being here amidst
all these weeds. I promise we will make
this house into a home you will be proud to shade.”
Walking back through the living room, looking at the paper hanging from the ceiling, she felt the house grab at her like a dirty child. She wanted no part of it. No choice. Here they were and somehow would make the most of it.
 |
| Larry, Amanda & Faye in front of the fireplace, 1970. |
Glancing at the fireplace, she saw through the dust and
grime a thing that would be beautiful when cleaned. Top of the mantel was carved cypress, with
round post at outside edges. In center a
large beveled mirror. Framework at
bottom was cypress inlaid with pale green tile, as was the hearth.
She lifted her head.
With a smile she went into the
kitchen. Made coffee and served it, as though she were in exactly the one place
she had always wanted to be. Boys
suddenly quiet, looked at her questioningly.
Grandmother smiled.
Daughter-in-law asked for the back bedroom as it was not so spooky. Woman nodded her head, then spoke to the
boys, “Don’t you think you best get to work on those weeds around our
tree? Surely you want everyone passing
to see its beauty.”
Father was much surprised to come home to a smiling family, filled with many suggestions of what could be done to the house.
Father was much surprised to come home to a smiling family, filled with many suggestions of what could be done to the house.
Thirty years have passed.
Magnolia can now be proud to shade the house. A highway passes by, and when sometimes cars
slow to admire the house, tree and peafowl strutting in the yard, our minds go
back to that first May day we turned into the drive. As the cars pick up speed, we smile.
--Jesse Shoemaker Drinkwater
for a writing class at LSU 1980, about the move to Plaquemine, Louisiana in May of 1946
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| Jesse, Linda, Gail, Jackie, David, Gary |
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| Jesse & Faye, December 1955 |
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| Gary & Jesse |
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