Early Spring

It was an early spring in 1925. Warm temperatures had produced a rapid thaw, and soon the snow was melting and water was running freely. Hollows in the ground were becoming puddles of water. In the afternoon, Grandmother lifted the hatch cover in the kitchen floor to climb down the steps into the cellar, where the vegetables and preserves were stored. She had meant to gather vegetables to cook for supper, but she immediately came back up with the alarm that water was rising in the cellar. Grandfather went down and found that water was flowing into the cellar from ground level and the outlet was frozen solid because of severe frost and scanty snow cover earlier in the winter. It would soon fill up; they would have to remove all the vegetables immediately.

Grandfather's name was, Frederick; Grandmother's was, Rosanna. It was agreed that Fred and Rosanna would go into the cellar and fill containers to pass up to other family members, who would lay the vegetables on the back-kitchen floor, temporarily. The back-kitchen was a one-story addition built onto the main house, where the cooking was done in summer months, so that the main house could be kept cool, especially upstairs, where they slept. All the family pitched in to meet the emergency. Vegetables were a staple in the area and were obtained only by planting and harvesting to meet one's own needs. Fred and Rosanna worked frantically against the rising water, and when it rose over the tops of their boots, they kept on, though they were numbed by the icy water.

Finally they had finished and climbed wearily from the cellar. They went and looked at the scene in the back-kitchen; the vegetables would have to be dried off carefully before re-storing them. There was much work to do before they could rest. The family members prepared the evening meal while Fred and Rosanna changed into dry clothing. After supper Fred lay back on his couch as he usually did. Exhausted from the activity and the effects of exposure, he fell asleep, awakening an hour or so later. He began to recollect foggily the events of the day; he could hear Rosanna and the children, out in the back-kitchen drying off the potatoes, he thought. He must join them; he wondered how long he had been slept? He sat up and reached for his watch. He couldn't find it.

"Oh yes," he remembered, he had changed his clothes, and had put his vest near the stove to dry; it should be dry by now. He got up and put on his vest and buttoned it snuggly. There, now he felt warm and comfortable, with his familiar vest on. It had a special pocket where he kept his watch, attached to a chain. He must go, now, and help Rosanna and the children finish drying off the potatoes. From habit his hand reached into his vest pocket to check the time. His watch wasn't there! The chain hung limply and he could see where the connecting link had been forced apart. His watch was gone! Where could it be? Rosanna and the children hadn't seen his watch. He told them he must have lost it in the cellar. It would be ruined before the water receded enough to search for it. His watch had been their only timepiece. Such items were not available locally in those days. It was an expensive and serious loss. But much more intense heartache lay ahead of them.

The next day Rosanna was experiencing congestion problems and the day after was too sick to get out of bed. She died of pneumonia in about two weeks, a direct result of her exposure in the ice-cold water. Rosanna -- the one who always looked at the bright side of things, who somehow, found reasons to laugh in circumstances when others were glum. She who was generous and ready with a word of encouragement when the immediate outlook was gloomy; she who had been a ray of sunshine to her husband and family -- was gone. Three years later in early May, grandfather died, and went to be with his beloved.

Link to Grandfathers:click here.

Updated 7/ 2006