If the Creek Don’t Rise

Village Creek

My first memory of this tiny place involves the actual rising of the mighty waterway, Village Creek. It had rained for days and this small tributary of the Trinity River not only overflowed its banks, but took out a bridge or two. My parents drove around the area looking at how far up the roads the water had progressed. To my young eyes, this was a forecast for a flood of Biblical proportions; I stared out the window of the car looking earnestly for Noah. What I didn’t know at that time was that Village Creek was not only a waterway, but a rural community.

Sashaying through Savannah

Azaleas and a gazebo in one of the many squares

Savannah, Georgia is a wonderfully historic city, and three of us were delighted to find that the QuiltCon East was to be there. We joined just a few of the 21,000,000 US quilters to enjoy this extravaganza. Only one of us, Barb, is an experienced quilter but that didn’t mean that Linnea and I weren’t enthusiastic fabric collectors. Someday we’ll get a quilt completed! In any case, Savannah is a wonderful city to explore, the weather was perfect, and the food was great!

Rounding on Retta

Eons ago, when I was very young, my parents needed something for me to do during the

Retta Baptist Church with original bell

summer. In many southern towns the main activity to keep out-of-school children busy was Bible School. And that was how I was introduced that that far off and exotic place called Retta, a whopping two miles from home. I think I went to three or four of these entertaining and instructional week-long events, but what I remember most from my sojourn to Retta was that we were outside most of the time to do crafts and sing songs since none of the buildings of the Retta Baptist Church was air conditioned.

Home of the Bulldogs

Near-Normal Traveler, Vince, began his career in education teaching science, coaching, and

Open field on the outskirts of Everman

picking up classes that no one else was available to teach at the Everman School. Once he even got to teach an art class because he was the only person who had instruction: it was a class he had in high school! A few years after he taught at this school, I began my education in this district. However, long before we entered the picture, the area was common to the Apache, Kiowa and Wichita tribes until the mid-1850s when the first Anglos arrived. They established two little hamlets, Oak Grove and Enos. Although Enos is long gone, Oak Grove (see Flying in and out) is still around.

Flying in and out

Many of my formative years were spent with a couple of families who lived in Oak Grove,

A part of the Graham homestead

Texas. At the time both of my parents worked and getting me to school was sometimes an issue of timing. At the Graham’s I was inducted into a family of six children, which, being and only child, was much like being dropped into a three-ring circus. This organized chaos was a great preparation for public school. While Oak Grove used to be an independent farm community it’s now one of the multitude of suburbs of Fort Worth. Named by three brothers from Kentucky in 1866 for its large stand of oak trees, there wasn’t much more than farming and ranching in the area for another ten years.  At that time a post office branch opened and in 1885 Missouri Pacific railroad came to the area. However, as soon as rail service cease, the community failed to grow. It wasn’t until the 1960s that excitement returned to the area: the Oak Grove Airport was established.