Summertime. Picnics. Family reunions.
My mother's family has gathered for a reunion and summer picnic for nearly 60 years. Almost as long as I can remember, the first Sunday in August was time for reunion. The aunts, uncles and cousins would meet the first Sunday in August at Krape Park in Freeport at the shelter house near the merry-go-round. This shelter house was the closest one to the bathrooms and the playground. It seems this family has been blessed to have at least four generations attend each reunion.
The family consisted of four brothers and four sisters, their spouses, children, grandchildren and stepchildren and friends.
Now there are just three sisters left and only two of them were able to attend this latest reunion. The third sister is the oldest of the three and lives about four hours away. The last time I saw her, it was at her 90th birthday party over a year ago. The other two sisters are in their 80s.
This year, only 38 members of the family gathered the first Sunday in August at Stockton Park. A different family member is making the arrangements, thus the change in parks (and the Stockton Park house is air conditioned). The air conditioned facility makes it easier on the older members of the family, and the bathroom is in the same building on the same floor. At least five members who attended are age 80 or older and most of them have difficulty walking.
It still is a sort of contest to see who will get their tablecloth and plates set up first. Don't be late or there might not be room for your tablecloth. Then your family members will just have to fill in the open spots at the table.
One of the aunts has a scrapbook of previous reunions. Each year we sign in: name, town, state. I believe only two states were represented this year - Wisconsin and Illinois. No one came from California, Colorado, Florida, Iowa, New Jersey or Texas. Family is scattered from coast to coast; second and third cousins are hard to keep up with when they don't show up very often.
One can almost list the dishes prepared for the potluck before the picnic baskets and coolers are opened. This aunt usually brings fried chicken, that one coleslaw, cherry pie or berry cobbler, brownies, deviled eggs, sliced tomatoes, cheesecake, Spanish rice, meatloaf, sweet corn on the cob, goulash, chips and dip, coffee, lemonade or iced tea. The selection goes on and on.
A couple of traditional items were missing this year. For many years, Uncle George brought one or two whole watermelon. It was an honor to have your tablecloth selected for the cutting of the watermelon. And who remembered to bring the butcher knife to cut the watermelon and a salt shaker or two? The seed-spitting contest was enjoyed by all ages. Uncle George has passed away. This year, the melon was all cut up and seedless. A seed-spitting contest would not be appropriate behavior inside an air conditioned building.
Aunt Doris forgot the dominoes. No 42 game. No wonder Aunt Sarah went home early. Usually we sweep the floor and tidy the other tables and chairs around the last of the domino players.
I fear the tradition of the family reunion is coming to an end. The family is scattered from coast to coast. The brothers and sisters who started this tradition are slowly passing on. The letters that our parents savored writing and receiving, encouraging one and all to come to the reunion, have become quick phone calls and e-mails. Somehow, the need to get together with my cousins doesn't seem strong enough to bring us together.
My sister and brother-in-law from Florida were not able to come to the reunion this year. Brother Bill, his wife, children (in New Jersey and Florida) and grandchildren did not make the reunion. Brother Terry, wife and family (who live in Illinois but temporarily re-assigned to Utah) did not make the reunion.
But two weeks later, my sister came from Florida and Terry is back in Illinois. Five of us six kids did get together at Mom's house to share a meal and swap stories and pass the phone around so each one could talk to the missing sibling.
Maybe the family reunion tradition will survive.
- Jean Woodruff is news clerk for The Monroe Times. She can be reached at
newsclerk@themonroetimes.com.
My mother's family has gathered for a reunion and summer picnic for nearly 60 years. Almost as long as I can remember, the first Sunday in August was time for reunion. The aunts, uncles and cousins would meet the first Sunday in August at Krape Park in Freeport at the shelter house near the merry-go-round. This shelter house was the closest one to the bathrooms and the playground. It seems this family has been blessed to have at least four generations attend each reunion.
The family consisted of four brothers and four sisters, their spouses, children, grandchildren and stepchildren and friends.
Now there are just three sisters left and only two of them were able to attend this latest reunion. The third sister is the oldest of the three and lives about four hours away. The last time I saw her, it was at her 90th birthday party over a year ago. The other two sisters are in their 80s.
This year, only 38 members of the family gathered the first Sunday in August at Stockton Park. A different family member is making the arrangements, thus the change in parks (and the Stockton Park house is air conditioned). The air conditioned facility makes it easier on the older members of the family, and the bathroom is in the same building on the same floor. At least five members who attended are age 80 or older and most of them have difficulty walking.
It still is a sort of contest to see who will get their tablecloth and plates set up first. Don't be late or there might not be room for your tablecloth. Then your family members will just have to fill in the open spots at the table.
One of the aunts has a scrapbook of previous reunions. Each year we sign in: name, town, state. I believe only two states were represented this year - Wisconsin and Illinois. No one came from California, Colorado, Florida, Iowa, New Jersey or Texas. Family is scattered from coast to coast; second and third cousins are hard to keep up with when they don't show up very often.
One can almost list the dishes prepared for the potluck before the picnic baskets and coolers are opened. This aunt usually brings fried chicken, that one coleslaw, cherry pie or berry cobbler, brownies, deviled eggs, sliced tomatoes, cheesecake, Spanish rice, meatloaf, sweet corn on the cob, goulash, chips and dip, coffee, lemonade or iced tea. The selection goes on and on.
A couple of traditional items were missing this year. For many years, Uncle George brought one or two whole watermelon. It was an honor to have your tablecloth selected for the cutting of the watermelon. And who remembered to bring the butcher knife to cut the watermelon and a salt shaker or two? The seed-spitting contest was enjoyed by all ages. Uncle George has passed away. This year, the melon was all cut up and seedless. A seed-spitting contest would not be appropriate behavior inside an air conditioned building.
Aunt Doris forgot the dominoes. No 42 game. No wonder Aunt Sarah went home early. Usually we sweep the floor and tidy the other tables and chairs around the last of the domino players.
I fear the tradition of the family reunion is coming to an end. The family is scattered from coast to coast. The brothers and sisters who started this tradition are slowly passing on. The letters that our parents savored writing and receiving, encouraging one and all to come to the reunion, have become quick phone calls and e-mails. Somehow, the need to get together with my cousins doesn't seem strong enough to bring us together.
My sister and brother-in-law from Florida were not able to come to the reunion this year. Brother Bill, his wife, children (in New Jersey and Florida) and grandchildren did not make the reunion. Brother Terry, wife and family (who live in Illinois but temporarily re-assigned to Utah) did not make the reunion.
But two weeks later, my sister came from Florida and Terry is back in Illinois. Five of us six kids did get together at Mom's house to share a meal and swap stories and pass the phone around so each one could talk to the missing sibling.
Maybe the family reunion tradition will survive.
- Jean Woodruff is news clerk for The Monroe Times. She can be reached at
newsclerk@themonroetimes.com.
