MY FATHER

by ALBERT ALONZO SHOWALTER, April 20, 2000

My memories of my dad are a little vague, as he has now been dead, as of this writing, for almost 57 years but here they are:

My dad was born on July 3, 1881. He seemed to not know too much about his family. His mother and father are both buried in Grove City and were both deceased before my birth. The only one of his family that I ever knew was his sister, Myrtle. She was very loud and I was frightened of her and her family. Wanda said that Grandma Showalter was like that also.

My earliest recollections of dad are: that he was a kind, gentle father. I loved to go with him to Mt. Auburn, when he went to take a load of grain or just on an errand. One reason that I wanted to go was, he was generally good for a candy bar. However, he loved to visit with other farmers, and I would get very impatient and I can remember pulling on his hand and saying, “let’s go dad”. I also can remember sitting on his lap and feeling his muscle.

I remember his telling of his courtship of my mother. They courted by going to church. He always told of the night that he had taken my mother home and he started to his house. He saw a light coming down the road. He said that he got scared and hid in the bottom of the buggy and let the horse go on by itself.

Dad was always on the move . . . he was sort of like your Uncle Dean . . . he never just walked to the barn, but would kick pebbles or something else . . . full of nervous energy. Farming was very hard work back then. He farmed 240 acres with just two horses and an old 10-20 McCormick Deering tractor. When he was not able to be in the fields, there were animals to tend to, hedges to trim, roadways to mow . . . so he was always busy. I hardly ever remember him just sitting in the house and loafing.

Neighbors worked together on many occasions then. Threshing season brought Mr. Forden and his threshing rig to the farms and all of the farmers gathered to help with the threshing. I remember threshing very well. The wheat would have been cut and shocked and cured for several days before threshing. Several men would take rack wagons (steel wheeled, and flat bedded) to the field. A couple of men would throw the bundles up on the wagon with pitch forks and a couple other men would arrange them on the wagon. When the wagon was full, they would bring it to the barn area, and there it would be threshed with the straw blown into huge hay stacks and the grain saved for feed, and the surplus taken to the elevator in Mt. Auburn. At noon all the men came to the house, where the all the wives had worked all morning on a meal that is hard to describe. The men would eat first and then go out under shade trees and rest, before resuming work. Butchering in the winter months was done the same way, with all the families sharing the work.

Dad was always the first one to arise in the morning. In the winter months he would stoke up the fire, so that it would be warm when we all were awakened and came down. He milked several cows, with the help of the boys and later, Wanda and I. Mom would help, when needed. He would then come in and eat a hearty breakfast: Eggs, ham, gravy, potatoes, oatmeal, and bread.

During my early years, while still on the farm, it was the routine that every other Sunday the whole family would come home for dinner. These were good times and dad thoroughly enjoyed the gathering of the clan. In the summer months there would always be a hot croquet game on the front lawn. Dad especially enjoyed the game with his daughter-in-law, Cecil. They never really concentrated on winning…just getting through a wicket so that they could hit the other one’s croquet ball and then drive it as far as they could. He also could not let any of the boys get ahead of him. I remember one day when they were standing on their heads. He got on his and could not get down, later it was discovered that he had very high blood pressure.

These were depression days and money was scarce. When I was born, Lyle was already married. Arthur, Milton, Forrest, Dean and Wanda were still at home. After these Sunday get-togethers I remember dad and mom always sending meat and garden supplies home with them. These family gatherings continued until Dad’s death. On the Sundays the family did not come home, they were to spend with the wife’s families.

By the time that I was 8 or 9 years old, dad was never very well. He had a lot of stomach troubles. He always carried UGDA tablets with him. I think that was like Tums for his indigestion. He was later diagnosed as having ulcers. He tried doctors all around, but he continued to be in ill health. At one point he bought a little brass pencil like thing that was supposedly filled with radium. It cost $60 (a small fortune, then) that was supposed to cure all how woes. I have seen later that these were one of the quack cures of the 30’s. It didn’t work, of course. One Sunday, Dad, Dean and I went to Springfield. There was an Indian doctor there, called Chief Grey Eagle. I think that his house was on North Ninth Street. Well, he sold dad a lot of medicine and some also for me. He told my dad that I would be on the operating table in a short time, if he didn’t get me the medicine. He had us all to chew up some charcoal tablets. They were terrible and it later, took two milk shakes apiece to tolerate the taste.

Dad loved milk shakes, especially those from the Igloo, located in the 800 block of West Poplar Street, in Taylorville. It would never take too much coaxing for us to come to town to get a milk shake. He also loved chocolate. I guess that is where I inherited my love of it. We would come to Taylorville shopping and dad would go into George’s Candy Shop and buy a sack of candy for us and one for him. He was never selfish, but he wanted his own chocolate. He also carried peppermints in his pockets at all times. They were about the size of a dime in diameter, white and xxxx on the top. He would share those also, but they weren’t as good as chocolate.

He was elected a director of the Sandridge School, when I was in the third or fourth grade. When I was in the fifth grade, the school burned and the board was faced with the decision to build. The decided to build. However, the rest of the school year had to be reckoned with. We were bussed to another country school house south and east of Mt. Auburn. The next year they created quite a stir when they hired Nellie Walters to be our teacher. Why the stir? She was married, and married ladies were not supposed to teach young children, according to the thinking of the times.

By the time that I was about 12 Dad’s health really deteriorated. One night we went to Mt. Auburn to the free show and unbeknownst to me, he went to the doctor. He chewed tobacco and the doctor told him that if he didn’t quit, he was developing a cancer of the mouth. That night he bought three “Red Dot” cigars. The next morning he was taking a load of logs to Mt. Auburn by wagon. He lit one and soon got so dizzy that he fell off the wagon. But he smoked from then on. He was told to quit smoking later, because of his heart.

Also, about this time, World War II began. Forrest was the first one to be called into service. Dad and Forrest had never gotten along, or communicated very well. But Dad was very upset when Forrest (Colonel) was drafted. I found him out by the scale house, crying. It was the only time that I had ever seen my father cry. The family picture was taken just before Colonel left for the Army. Dad was really very sick that Sunday morning. They really made up when Colonel came home on furlough.

By the time that I was about 12, dad was really having trouble breathing. He took me out in the pasture in the car and taught me how to drive. I was already driving a tractor, so the car was easy to learn. I would then drive him to the fields or around the farm, because he could not longer walk very far. I think that I drove him nuts, because I would keep asking him how he felt or if he was able to breathe. I can also remember him riding with his head out the window to get more air. I also made him mad when I found a pack of cigarettes he had hidden in the garage and broke them, because I didn’t want him to smoke, as the doctor had told him to quit.

Dad’s condition kept deteriorating and he had to be in bed some of the time. In the summer of 1943, Lyle and Cecil asked me to go to a camp, being held at the Boy Scout Camp in Springfield in August. These were war years and people could not travel . . . so the Christian Church rented the camp and held a family camp there. When the week ended and we were started home, I was told that dad was in the hospital, but that his condition was better. His condition was not improving much. One day, Dean took me out to the barn lot and told me that they didn’t think that dad would ever be able to return to the farm and that I would be starting to Taylorville High School and living with him and Fern a week, and then with Lyle and Cecil, until the folks could move to town. He also broke the news to me that my dad would probably not live much longer.

The last time that I got to see dad alive was in the old St. Vincent hospital. At that time, the family thought that something registered when I came into the room and spoke to him.

Dad died on September 23, 1943. His body was taken to Chestnut & Pearce Funeral Home here in Taylorville. (This funeral home is now the Sutton Funeral Home.) In those days the body was brought to the family home. Dad finally returned home and the night of the visitation many people came and several told me what a good man he had been. The day of the funeral it poured rain all day. I remember my brothers and my sister and the tears that they shed, but for some reason I could not cry. Now I mention his name and I get choked up. The only really vivid memory that I have of the funeral, besides the pouring rain, was that they sang “Going Home.”

This page last edited: 12/16/2000 05:55 PM