Growing up in Louisa – Fall Traditions!
Weekly feature . . . by Mike Coburn
The whole point of this weekly column is to revisit long-forgotten memories of the times that we lived in another century. As walking, living data storage centers, specific memories often rush into our minds when something keys a picture of our past. It happens when we encounter an old photograph, hear a favorite tune that was popular ‘back then,’ pick up an odor or smell that we recognize of old, taste something long forgotten, hear the name of an old friend, or come across scenes burned into our memories. While the thoughts and their accompanying feelings may be haunting for some, most see these memories as a pleasant reminder of friends and loved ones. They take us back to a slower, simpler time when life was good. We remember our youth when we were naïve, but hungry to uncover life’s mysteries. It was before we had to face the adult responsibilities of building a career, or raising a family. Sometimes those memories rise to our minds because of something as simple as the change of seasons. Many are tied to reoccurring traditions.
Traditions are important in families, especially to younger children, adolescents, and youth. They are the basis of our early training and bonding. Even our family dog looks forward to our evening ritual when Suzie and I set down and bring up another British mystery on Netflix. The dog isn’t pleased if that is interrupted or put off for another day. You could say it ‘messes up the routine’ for her. It messes up Suzie’s and mine, too. Today, even our kids are quick to remind us if we stray and don’t do things the way we ‘always do.’ We think they don’t care, but leave out a favorite dish at Thanksgiving meals and you will hear the complaints and disappointments.
We all find comfort in structure, routine and tradition. I look forward to finding my favorite chair and settling into our nightly rituals. We are ‘creatures of habit’ and those habits often define us. We remember the ‘good ole days,’ because they are foundational to our makeup. As we age we see that life goes all too quickly. Sometimes what we enjoy is the planning and preparing for reoccurring activities. Even if dishes for that favorite meal don’t change, the cook suffers still in making it perfect. How sweet it is to exhale and relax in the idea that the key things in life do not change. Yes, there may be empty chairs about, but young lives fill the vacancies and the traditions become theirs, as well. We find security and comfort knowing that regardless of what happens the fall leaves will sparkle with colors, the apple crop will mature, and our favorite dishes will find its way to the oven.
Today, I remind readers of the richness of fall. This is a season, full of tradition and rooted in family history. Celebrations abound calling themselves ‘Septemberfest,’ ‘Octoberfest,’ ‘Harvest time,’ ‘Autumn Fest,’ and ‘Halloween’ each remind us of other times and times to come. To borrow from Charles Dickens, in ‘A Christmas Carol’ the ghosts of seasons past, and the ghosts of seasons yet to come, haunts us while yet bringing us that freedom to rest in our memories.
Many of us remember fall apple harvests with a degree of fondness. After all, this activity led to the making of spicy apple pies, apple turnovers, apple cobbler, apple butter, apple sauce, and finally cider. Some families, or organizations have a tradition of breaking out the big, black, cast iron pot to make apple butter and Brunswick stew. Hunters may add a bit of squirrel, venison, quail, or rabbit to the mix, along with corn, potatoes, tomatoes, and other late ripening produce at hand. Even the wood fire becomes a part of the celebration as we say our goodbyes to summer. The chill in the air tells us of the cooler days ahead. We are reminded of the snows ahead. It is near time to break out quilts, coats and jackets, long sleeves shirts, and maybe the wool long johns, and boots.
On the farm hay is being baled and stored, some in the barn loft, some in the fields in giant rolls. Silage is chopped and added to silos or corn cribs. Fresh cut cane is ground into sorghum and grapes are made into wine. For the youth, it will soon be time for those fun, romantic hayrides, fall camps, pumpkin picking, bonfires, and the raking of leaves. Hot cider and hot chocolate is served as the sun sets earlier and families find a spot to let dinner settle. It is a time to share memories, by spinning a yarn or two, or passing a family history to one of the attentive kids. This is how stories that have been passed down are repeated to a new generation. It is comforting for the kids to know they are a part, already, of family history. For musical families the instruments are taken up and songs are sung. All is well in the world. Young ones wonder if there will be time for a game of ‘hide and seek’ as the sun has set.
In some places the county fair, and the state fair will show off the prized animals, produce, crafts, and hold special events that some have looked forward to for months, or perhaps even when last year’s fair ended. We expect that there will be a ‘midway’ full of carnival rides and shows and entertainment for all ages. Some fairs have rodeos, tractor pulls, and car shows. (Talk about memories!) The event has competitions for the best pickles, jelly, pies and cakes. There are often exhibitions by the FFA and FHA, with prizes for the best lamb, cow, chicken, rabbit, quilts, and other crafts. The largest pumpkin can be enormous, but so can the largest cauliflower head, or longest carrot. In these modern times many communities have dropped these events because of the expense, trouble or marginal attendance, but we know in our hearts they are worth saving. They help the local economy and helps the community bond. Building good memories is always worthwhile.
With Halloween coming, we know the pumpkins are ready for market. Some are painted with cartoonish faces, but most are carved and hollowed out. A candle that may be lit inside the creation on the evenings ahead. Plain pumpkins and gourds will be used for decorating porches and yards, along with bales of straw, and stuffed scarecrows, or witches on their broomsticks.
Wait! We pause to get that whiff in the breeze that tells us that pumpkin pies are cooling. Anticipating good times to come we know it is time to turn to work. We have to build a float and prepare for the upcoming parade. Costumes for the kids need to be made or purchased in time for ‘trick or treat,’ or the harvest party at church. My word, fall is a busy time, but it is a time for bonding and making life’s wonderful memories.
Nature sometimes forces us into traditional behaviors. After all, we are not always in control of when those fall colors change and finally drop and clutter the ground sufficiently to require us to rake them up. As a kid this meant it was time to run and jump into the great piles of leaves, spreading the heap about until it would have to be raked again. In those days we stood by the leaf pile with garden hose and rakes, to keep control of the fire. Once we set them ablaze, white smoke rose to create a blanket of haze in the atmosphere. Columns of smoke would chase those of us who were ‘tending’ the fire. I remember the old adage that ‘smoke follows beauty.’ 
Experience tells me that it followed some of us other folks, too. The smoke was always in my eyes and only mom thought I was beautiful. The constant rubbing of smoke-filled eyes would bring tears, blinding me once and then again to ensure I was always in the midst of the smoke. My only chance was to turn and run away. Sometimes, I would try to outflank the nasty cloud of smoke that was already hugging the ground. I’d sneak up with my rake, but the breeze followed me forcing me to retreat. It would be years before I’d understand that smoke rising meant a high pressure system, while dropping smoke would indicate a barometric low, meaning that rain or snow may not be far off.
I remember people saying that ‘frost was on the pumpkin’ and that ‘collards were best after the first frost.’ Much of the produce became ripe in the fall and the hunting season would bring fresh game to the table. Fall was always a time of celebration and a time to count blessings. It is altogether right that Thanksgiving is only a few weeks ahead.
Whether Halloween, or a Harvest party, it is time to enjoy and take a short break from summer’s demands. There is still time to play, relax, yet prepare for the winter ahead. I remember laughing when dunking for apples, when playing games, or running and hiding. Now is a time to take pictures, or movies, even if it’s over the objections of teens, or one of us grouchy older folk. In our last days we will turn to those pictures and remember. Holding the edge of the robe of ‘ghost of seasons past,’ we will see and hear the laughter once more. For the first time in a while maybe a tear will run down our face, or a smile will betray our feelings. With watery eyes we stare into the past and are bathed in the spirit of another time. As for me, it is tough being ‘found out’ as a softy, deep inside. Shhh! Don’t tell anyone.
So look not longingly for the remnants of summer, but rather look forward to the holidays ahead. Just as apples are gathered, so let families come together and build more memories. When you get older you’ll find that bonding is critical to our well-being. Outside of our faith, family and friends are all we have. God bless. mcoburncppo@aol.com
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PS: Sadly, my wife’s sister, Linda, passed as I was writing this. We were blessed to have visited with her Sunday and talked of old times and family traditions. We laughed, we cried, none of us knowing the end was so near. Building memories and bonding are good things. Let us purpose to build more memories while we can.
