I would like to encourage the rest of you folks to be brave and share your memories -- I had been asked by cousin "Nance StClair ", to say some things for cousin "Scott", a bunch of yrs back after his passing and I didn't do it till now --mostly she wanted to share with his boys and wife -- but I let her down -- so --let's not be like me . Seems like the most of us has gone our own way and we think no one cares ----but all is good and we can still share without feeling ashamed ------I am the guilty one for not trying to find my family and discover how we connect.
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Here is a story of Rian's: Yes, I do have some stories about Scott and I. Scott was a very charismatic male figure and had many friends...more than I. Even though I was a little older than he was, I always admired him. My first memories of Scott, was when we were young boys. I can't remember if it was Scott who got the scientific kit for Christmas or Myron. As young boys, Scott and I tried our hand at scientific adventures, but regardless of who got it for Christmas, Scott and I ended up with it. Scott decided that we should try to mix water and gas, and see if gas would still burn when mixed with water. Of course, we had to do it in a little hay barn, the one down by the big fir tree down by the big triangle...on the old property up on the hill in Drain. Grandpa and Grandma's place that became theirs later. Why in the heck we didn't do it out by the road, I can't imagine, but we put a match to it, and instantly there was fire! As I recall, Scott had gotten his hair singed off his face and some off his head.
Our first experience at smelling burning hair. Then we ran for our lives! It was not a good experiment. Actually, it was if you consider that we did learn that gas burns even diluted with water, as the gas lays on top of the water, and burns quite well. Some of the elders will remember this too, but I know there were damages. During this time, we would fish and hunt as much as we could. We hunted squirrels and threw rocks at grouse. We had sling shots,and Scott had taught me how to make a better sling shot than I already had. He introduced me to surgical tubing, instead of inner tube rubber for the use of sling shot material. He was always better at everything than I was. he would challenge me many times on any ability to be a better shot, fisherman, etc, etc.
We would go up to the cherry orchard and he would challenge me how high we could climb up a cherry tree, and jump down to the ground. He always climber higher, and jump farther than I could stand. I couldn't believe how high that guy could climb and jump out of tree. Then you folks moved down to the big city of Drain, and that summer, Uncle Bud and Aunt Marian decided to adventure into building and starting a business in the fast food industry. The summer that Uncle Bud built the "Big Burger", fast food place, I remember Scott introducing me to salt pills, as we were feverishly packing building materials up the road a ways from where you lived. The salt pills were in a big container, and were to be taken to replace the salt in our sweat, as we sweated like wild animals packing the lumber up the road. It may be an exaggeration, but this is how I remember it. That Big Burger stand was an icon for the Drain area, then you folks moved way up Smith River, twenty two and a half miles to Gunter, and lived on an old farm and stage coach site. After that, we didn't get to see each other so often. But, when I got a chance, I would go spend a day or a weekend as often as possible, maybe once or twice a year. Many good memories there. One of which I got the opportunity the spend the weekend with you folks, and it was after dark, and the dogs were barking and Myron, Scott, and you. Lucky maybe off gallivanting with a girlfriend. Dogs barking, we all went down to the orchard after getting permission from Bud to see what the commotion was all about with the dogs. We went down with a flashlight and a .22, loe and behold, there was a bear in a plum (or apple) tree.
Anyhoos, Myron being the oldest of the bunch, shot...and shot...and shot into the bear with the flashlight shining in the bear's eyes, and not seeming to phase the bear one iota. I think Scott and I took turns after Myron got tired of shooting! I'm sure you remember this Nanc. Well, we decided that we weren't hurting the bear so we figured we had better go back to the house and get some advice from your Dad. Uncle Bud said, "You'd better just leave it alone. We'll go down and check in the morning." Seems to me like we talked about it for another hour trying to go to sleep. "Why didn't the bear fall? Why didn't we kill the bear? Was it possible that a great Grizzly had wondered into the territory from the north land?" Finally, we hushed by Aunt Marian, telling us "You kids need to go to sleep now and be quiet!" We got up early as usual, and Aunt Marian had a fine breakfast feed, waiting around the old wood stove asking Bud if we could go down to the orchard and look to see what happened to the bear.
We all went down, like the warriors that we were, and loe and behold, there was the bear still in the tree looking at us. Apparently shot dead within the first few shots. His head caught in a crouch of the tree, and body just sitting in a position...dead to the world. Of course, we then had to determine who had actually shotand killed the bear, after all of us taking turns trying to shoot it. I'm sure Myron took this in hand and said that he was the killer of the bear. The rest of the shots didn't even matter. I'm not sure what happened after that, but I do believe Uncle Bud instructed you kids how to tan the hide. But, pretty good story!
One of those summers when you folks still lived at the Gunter place, Scott had decided that he and I should float the river clean down to the ocean. So we elected to make separate rafts. At first Scott and I gathered logs and timbers, tied them together like we had seen on TV and heard about from the old days, then we set off to go to the ocean. We only made it about two hundred yards, got caught on some logs and debris...and that was the end of that adventure with our logs breaking up and us in the water. We quickly recuperated and decided to go back and get some big truck inner tubes. Picked up a couple of water tubs and forced them into the inner tubes and we were on our way once again. We knew we would make it this time so we took a lunch. Aunt Marian fixed us a couple of PB and Js and away we went. We made it about a quarter mile and then another log jam. So we ended the rafting trip and packed our rafts back home. So much for that I idea, never did try it again.
In the fall of that year, that I got to spend another weekend with you folks. I know you'll remember the animals as you had acquired a couple of burrows, and Scott had bragged to me that we could ride these burrows through brush piles that a horse would never venture to go. One day, Scott and I had set out to ride the burrows up to an old gold mine camp that he knew of. We really only went about a half mile, challenging these burrows to go through these brush piles that no sane animal would go through. The burrows were named Homer and Jethro, neither of which liked to be ridden. Their bony backs and our skinny asses would collide as they would bray and buck. We howled and laughed like crazy kids that we were, and once again, decided to give up this adventure and go for easier prey. Scott said, "I know what we'll do! We'll go down to the orchard by the creek and we'll take turns climbing in the apple trees...one of shooing the steers and cattle under the trees while the other will jump on the back of the animal, and we'll get some bucking!" What a hilarious laugh we had!
Many more stories, but after that seems like you folks moved up to the Mohawk area above Springfield. We didn't get to see each other much after that. The summer I got out of high school, Scott had a old GMC or Chevy pick up, maybe 47 or 48. I had acquired a 1956 Mercury. Beautiful car, but wasn't quite my idea of a young boy's hot rod. Sometime that year, just before I joined the Army...and this is my last memory of contact with Scott. He being the challenger, and me being the acceptor of the challenge, Scott was not legally able to drive on the highway with that pick up. He knew some people that had some property. I don't know their names, but it wasn't too far from where he lived. He challenged me to play Chicken with his pick up and my car. Seems like he already had the pick up on that property, which was maybe ten or fifteen acres of farm land. We got to the property with these two vehicles...one of us at one end...and one of us at the other...we flashed our lights and we smashed our gas. We would go spinning across the field directly at each other's bumpers, not knowing who was going to turn right or left. We never smashed but came close many many times, tires spinning and slinging mud...howling like wild animals. This was the last great event that I can remember with my cousin Scott. I hope this is what you are looking to share as these are great memories of "Scott" as I recall. This is just some of my memories but hope you all enjoy . Ol'Rian -- Over and out --- Take care and keep in touch . ~Rian&Gina~
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Here is a story of Rian's: Yes, I do have some stories about Scott and I. Scott was a very charismatic male figure and had many friends...more than I. Even though I was a little older than he was, I always admired him. My first memories of Scott, was when we were young boys. I can't remember if it was Scott who got the scientific kit for Christmas or Myron. As young boys, Scott and I tried our hand at scientific adventures, but regardless of who got it for Christmas, Scott and I ended up with it. Scott decided that we should try to mix water and gas, and see if gas would still burn when mixed with water. Of course, we had to do it in a little hay barn, the one down by the big fir tree down by the big triangle...on the old property up on the hill in Drain. Grandpa and Grandma's place that became theirs later. Why in the heck we didn't do it out by the road, I can't imagine, but we put a match to it, and instantly there was fire! As I recall, Scott had gotten his hair singed off his face and some off his head.
Our first experience at smelling burning hair. Then we ran for our lives! It was not a good experiment. Actually, it was if you consider that we did learn that gas burns even diluted with water, as the gas lays on top of the water, and burns quite well. Some of the elders will remember this too, but I know there were damages. During this time, we would fish and hunt as much as we could. We hunted squirrels and threw rocks at grouse. We had sling shots,and Scott had taught me how to make a better sling shot than I already had. He introduced me to surgical tubing, instead of inner tube rubber for the use of sling shot material. He was always better at everything than I was. he would challenge me many times on any ability to be a better shot, fisherman, etc, etc.
We would go up to the cherry orchard and he would challenge me how high we could climb up a cherry tree, and jump down to the ground. He always climber higher, and jump farther than I could stand. I couldn't believe how high that guy could climb and jump out of tree. Then you folks moved down to the big city of Drain, and that summer, Uncle Bud and Aunt Marian decided to adventure into building and starting a business in the fast food industry. The summer that Uncle Bud built the "Big Burger", fast food place, I remember Scott introducing me to salt pills, as we were feverishly packing building materials up the road a ways from where you lived. The salt pills were in a big container, and were to be taken to replace the salt in our sweat, as we sweated like wild animals packing the lumber up the road. It may be an exaggeration, but this is how I remember it. That Big Burger stand was an icon for the Drain area, then you folks moved way up Smith River, twenty two and a half miles to Gunter, and lived on an old farm and stage coach site. After that, we didn't get to see each other so often. But, when I got a chance, I would go spend a day or a weekend as often as possible, maybe once or twice a year. Many good memories there. One of which I got the opportunity the spend the weekend with you folks, and it was after dark, and the dogs were barking and Myron, Scott, and you. Lucky maybe off gallivanting with a girlfriend. Dogs barking, we all went down to the orchard after getting permission from Bud to see what the commotion was all about with the dogs. We went down with a flashlight and a .22, loe and behold, there was a bear in a plum (or apple) tree.
Anyhoos, Myron being the oldest of the bunch, shot...and shot...and shot into the bear with the flashlight shining in the bear's eyes, and not seeming to phase the bear one iota. I think Scott and I took turns after Myron got tired of shooting! I'm sure you remember this Nanc. Well, we decided that we weren't hurting the bear so we figured we had better go back to the house and get some advice from your Dad. Uncle Bud said, "You'd better just leave it alone. We'll go down and check in the morning." Seems to me like we talked about it for another hour trying to go to sleep. "Why didn't the bear fall? Why didn't we kill the bear? Was it possible that a great Grizzly had wondered into the territory from the north land?" Finally, we hushed by Aunt Marian, telling us "You kids need to go to sleep now and be quiet!" We got up early as usual, and Aunt Marian had a fine breakfast feed, waiting around the old wood stove asking Bud if we could go down to the orchard and look to see what happened to the bear.
We all went down, like the warriors that we were, and loe and behold, there was the bear still in the tree looking at us. Apparently shot dead within the first few shots. His head caught in a crouch of the tree, and body just sitting in a position...dead to the world. Of course, we then had to determine who had actually shotand killed the bear, after all of us taking turns trying to shoot it. I'm sure Myron took this in hand and said that he was the killer of the bear. The rest of the shots didn't even matter. I'm not sure what happened after that, but I do believe Uncle Bud instructed you kids how to tan the hide. But, pretty good story!
One of those summers when you folks still lived at the Gunter place, Scott had decided that he and I should float the river clean down to the ocean. So we elected to make separate rafts. At first Scott and I gathered logs and timbers, tied them together like we had seen on TV and heard about from the old days, then we set off to go to the ocean. We only made it about two hundred yards, got caught on some logs and debris...and that was the end of that adventure with our logs breaking up and us in the water. We quickly recuperated and decided to go back and get some big truck inner tubes. Picked up a couple of water tubs and forced them into the inner tubes and we were on our way once again. We knew we would make it this time so we took a lunch. Aunt Marian fixed us a couple of PB and Js and away we went. We made it about a quarter mile and then another log jam. So we ended the rafting trip and packed our rafts back home. So much for that I idea, never did try it again.
In the fall of that year, that I got to spend another weekend with you folks. I know you'll remember the animals as you had acquired a couple of burrows, and Scott had bragged to me that we could ride these burrows through brush piles that a horse would never venture to go. One day, Scott and I had set out to ride the burrows up to an old gold mine camp that he knew of. We really only went about a half mile, challenging these burrows to go through these brush piles that no sane animal would go through. The burrows were named Homer and Jethro, neither of which liked to be ridden. Their bony backs and our skinny asses would collide as they would bray and buck. We howled and laughed like crazy kids that we were, and once again, decided to give up this adventure and go for easier prey. Scott said, "I know what we'll do! We'll go down to the orchard by the creek and we'll take turns climbing in the apple trees...one of shooing the steers and cattle under the trees while the other will jump on the back of the animal, and we'll get some bucking!" What a hilarious laugh we had!
Many more stories, but after that seems like you folks moved up to the Mohawk area above Springfield. We didn't get to see each other much after that. The summer I got out of high school, Scott had a old GMC or Chevy pick up, maybe 47 or 48. I had acquired a 1956 Mercury. Beautiful car, but wasn't quite my idea of a young boy's hot rod. Sometime that year, just before I joined the Army...and this is my last memory of contact with Scott. He being the challenger, and me being the acceptor of the challenge, Scott was not legally able to drive on the highway with that pick up. He knew some people that had some property. I don't know their names, but it wasn't too far from where he lived. He challenged me to play Chicken with his pick up and my car. Seems like he already had the pick up on that property, which was maybe ten or fifteen acres of farm land. We got to the property with these two vehicles...one of us at one end...and one of us at the other...we flashed our lights and we smashed our gas. We would go spinning across the field directly at each other's bumpers, not knowing who was going to turn right or left. We never smashed but came close many many times, tires spinning and slinging mud...howling like wild animals. This was the last great event that I can remember with my cousin Scott. I hope this is what you are looking to share as these are great memories of "Scott" as I recall. This is just some of my memories but hope you all enjoy . Ol'Rian -- Over and out --- Take care and keep in touch . ~Rian&Gina~
