THE NAPKIN NOTE

We all know that Ella was a keeper of cherished memories. Perhaps you are also. If someone needed to go through your stuff after you moved to a nursing home or died, what would they find? I would hope there would be special items you remember.

Judy noted she didn't have the heart to throw the note on the napkin away.

The 1967 note says:

Dearest Mom and Shirley,

Elodee says to leave a note.

I'm not quite sure what to say but then, we've only been married five years.

Anytime you need a shoulder let us know and I'll send mine, if you need one, we will ask for yours.

It's a new day enjoy every moment.

God will bless you as long as we have faith and trust in Him.

Love, Bob, Elodee, and Rachel

We always hope when we write notes to others that if they need us, we will be there. Old Trunks is hopeful she does this before someone asks.

I am thinking about a member of the Rye family. She was the daughter of Ella's sister, Alice. I don't know how Irene knew my Mother. When Daddy died, Irene was there bringing paper products to mother; plates, napkins, and silverware. Why? Because Irene, within her own heart, felt this was the most needed thing. And Mother appreciated her thoughtfulness.

The next time you pick up a napkin, flash a mental note to someone you care about. Give them the gift of your thoughts and accept a blessing to yourself.

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THE LEAF SAYS LINNIE

In the box with the salt and pepper shakers, there was a note written to Ella and Shirley by Ella's son Bob. Along with the note, written on a napkin, were three leaves from Lloyd Anderson's funeral in October, 1967.

One of the leaves had Rachel's name on it, the other two said Linnie. Old Trunks looked at the leaf with Linnie written on it and just could not place it. That happens with genealogy, sometimes a name gets lost within the structure. The beauty of it is, one always seems to know the answer or give you a clue. Communication is the key.

After an email to Judy, another member of the Anderson children, I had my answer. Julia Olson Rye was one of twelve children. Carrie was two years young than her. Carrie married and had Linnie. Linnie is the great aunt of the Anderson children.

We know from reading the Rosewood News that a family reunion was held at the Henry Rye home Sunday when the sister and brothers of Mrs. Rye were together for the first time in 34 years. Those present were Mrs. Carrie Dillion and daughter, Mrs. Ivan (Linnie) Knepp, Mrs. Alfred Olson, Mr. Oscar Olson, Mr. Arthur Olson and daughter, Sara. Mr. And Mrs. Norman Jorgenson and family all of Goodridge. Mr. and Mrs. Walter Steinhauer and family of Holt Mr. Lloyd Anderson and children, Murvin Rye and Selmer Dahl. Dinner was enjoyed together and the afternoon was spent taking pictures and reminiscing of old times. (Summer of 1947).

One of the photos taken during this time was of Julia, Carrie, and Linnie with the two horses hitched to what looks like a rake. A rake looks like boards with nails in it and it smooths out the soil. Linnie Knepp has the reins, Julia is in the apron. Although Carrie is two years younger, her hair is styled so it looks nearly white.

And now we know who Linnie's Leaf belongs to!

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SALT OF THE EARTH

The expression is: He/She is the salt of the earth.

According to the ask.com answer it means: "Anyone regarded as the finest of his kind is the 'salt of the earth.' The expression comes from Matthew 5:13, where Jesus, speaking to his disciples, says: 'Ye are the salt of the earth.Ye are the light of the world.'"The "salt of the earth" are the multitude of common, decent hard-working folk. "Everyday" people, unsung heroes. They are vital to our communities.

Other answers include wisdom.

Why am I talking about this?

Old Trunks recieved a package today. It had a set of mallard salt and pepper shakers in it. They had been Ella Rye Anderson Steinhauer's. I had asked her daughter to send me a set of one of Ella's collection.

I think about Ella a lot. Knowing I was unwrapping something of hers, gave me a chance to think about her again including her wisdom and her worth to all who knew her.

I only connected it with salt because when I unwrapped one of them the paper was full of salt.

A little over my shoulder for good luck from someone who was the salt of the earth.

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WHAT ABOUT BEING A FIFTH GRADER?

Many of us can say it has been fifty years since we were in fifth grade. Now matter how long it has been, we remember our teacher and some of our class mates.

It was the fall of 1954 when the halls of Knox School was flooded with to be fifth graders. There were two classes; Mrs. Robarge and Miss Peterson. We all wanted the first, some of us got the second.

Miss Peterson was a matronly looking woman with a bobbed hair style, old style glasses, and a suit that looked like she was going to a funeral. She wore no make up. She looked strict. Mrs. Robarge was a smiling type with up dated clothes and wore lipstick. She looked updated.

We knew which class room we would have because the teacher had written the names on a paper and posted it outside the door. My name was on the Peterson door.

Miss Peterson could not sing, we learned all our songs off a phonograph record. She could keep our attention because she looked like she would do something to you if you didn't pay attention to her.

Our books were well used, they were offered to us to use. There was no fees for school in those days. We had to supply crayons, pencils, and paper. For tests, special paper was used.

What were the classes? Arithmetic, language, reading, writing, science, and US geography. The math was long division and 4x4 multipication tables. The geography was all about the United States. I got to talk about our trip to Florida using the large pull down map.

Perhaps the list of classes are much like they were then plus computer. For those of you who have heard of OR watch SMARTER THAN A FIFTH GRADER, it is interesting to take the tests supplied by the Virginia school system.

Wondering what sort of review my grand daughter may have, I went to the computer skills first, I did very well. But, I am thinking about a friend who wouldn't know any of the answers because she hasn't had the training. The answers I gave where from the late 80's when I went to school and learned about the computer from a teacher who would not allow us to turn the machine on until we memorized the 123 commands.

Yes, that was 20 years ago, and yes, I still use those ctrl commands even now, although the computers are truly user friendly.

If you would like to see the site, go to:

http://www.iq.poquoson.org/studygradelevel5.html

Good Luck!

Happy fifth grade, Jaeme!

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LLOYD PAUL ANDERSON

Lloyd Paul Anderson

September 2, 1911-October 5, 1967

This is the anniversary of the birth of Lloyd Paul Anderson. His side of the family does not have longevity. His father died at 46; his mother at 76. Lloyd's brothers, Andrew died at three days and Newell was 27.

Yet Lloyd's spirit continues to live through his children, grand children, and great-great grandchildren.

Old Trunks is grateful to have known this kind, gentle man who worked hard, loved his God and his family. Be still and listen to him play his mandolin and his guitar. Wait for the chuckle. Search his brown eyes for truth.

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LABOR DAY BEGINNINGS 1885

The celebration of Labor Day should take were outlined in the first proposal of the holiday — a street parade to exhibit to the public "the strength and esprit de corps of the trade and labor organizations" of the community, followed by a festival for the recreation and amusement of the workers and their families. This became the pattern for the celebrations of Labor Day. Speeches by prominent men and women were introduced later, as more emphasis was placed upon the economic and civic significance of the holiday. Still later, by a resolution of the American Federation of Labor convention of 1909, the Sunday preceding Labor Day was adopted as Labor Sunday and dedicated to the spiritual and educational aspects of the labor movement.

Old Trunks knew labor day was a celebration for the working man. Yet, she knew farmers harvested, hospitals were open as were places to eat. For the most part, it was a day to transfer from summer to fall; school always started the day after Labor Day in Thief River Falls. Does anyone remember a parade?

There is something to be said about the stretch of time from Memorial Day to Labor Day. We call it summer and we place it as a time for pleasure, knowing when fall comes it will be time to work until the next summer months come to us.

On Memorial Day of 1956, it was raining in the morning. Daddy had gone out to check on the ponies as they weren't in the corral waiting for their morning oats. From the kitchen window, I could see him leading a pony named Topsy, who was followed closely by a colt who we named Lark. She was a multi-colored pinto who appeared to have springs in her legs. She was friendly and loved to be brush.

On the night before Labor Day of 1956, my parents went to the Eagle's for a dance. I stayed at my grandparents.

Near noon, which would have been Labor Day, mother came to get me. She told me the ponies had gotten out and Lark had been killed by a ball player from Argyle. Grandma was livid, she told mother she didn't have to be so blunt about it. Grandmother held me as I sobbed. Mother told her that I would find out anyway and it was better I knew before I couldn't find her. I was twelve I was old enough to know the truth. The dead animal service had been called and picked her up before I got home. I don't know how far the herd of 25 ponies went, I never found the spot where she was killed and no one showed me. I don't know how my parents knew. I still think if I was old enough to know part, I was old enough to know all.

Another Labor Day I remember was 40 years later. A good, yet very ill friend, life was diminshed. He was bedridden in our living room in a hospital bed. Nurses attended him and he was cared for by aides during the week. Before Memorial Day, I asked him if he wanted a party or a funeral. He wanted a party and were able to get most of his brothers and sisters to Lawrence for the three day weekend. He died the Labor Day weekend. There was no funeral, on the anniversary of his birthday, I scattered his ashes in the Boston Mountains of Arkansas. There was no parade. To him, it was more important to celebrate life. His slogan was, LIFE: Be in it!

Today is Labor Day 2008, may it have good memories for you!

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SUMMER HAS LEFT THE BUILDING

On this day in 1966, Robert Johnson was born to Janet and Tom Johnson. Happy Birthday, Bob.

Shirley stated her husband was out on the combine by seven and the day would be long. She also said he loved to combine.

It this part of the United States, summer ends abrupt. No matter when summer starts. Everything from farm crops to wild rice and flowers in the ditches just seem to say, "Hurry to maturity, winter is coming!"

In many of the lakes in this area, wild rice sprouts each spring and matures to be harvested by the local tribes in the fall. The men canoe through the rice beds and beat the rice into their canoe while the other person paddles.

The rice beds are full of sounds and on a still morning, one can hear the ducks and grebes as well as the Canada geese who are fattening up for their flight south. Somewhere near, loons communicate.

One almost always sees a heron, who grunks at the idea of humans being so close to them. The take flight and tell you off as they move from one part of the rice bed to another. The pelicans seem to have left; the geese are training in small groups to fly south. The loons are loosing their blue black suits, trading them in for chestnut traveling feathers.

A good estimate of the size of the rice bed is about a mile and a half long and a half mile wide. To fish one long side takes about an hour. In the spring, the process will start again. The lake forage which is dying out will come back; the pickerel weed and the pond lilies will once again welcome the spring.

Die hard retirees will stay well into October, weekenders will close on Labor Day, winterize their cabins and trailers and store their boats or drag them home. Soon the Johnson's will do just that.

Our saving grace is the small lakes in Minnesota closer to Fargo, where on a crisp morning we will be on some lake looking for some fish to stretching the season a little bit longer just one fish at a time.

But for now, all the rods and reels are cleaned and restrung. The tackle box has been inventoried and lures are given to people who need to start a collection.

Hurray spring!

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