Illinois Pilgrimage - No. 2
Fragrant cedars by Layer plot
Wenger Green Ridge Cemetery, Gilman
Layer house, Gilman
(scouted earlier by Illini P Brickett)
Fine old friends, Jacksonville - Bradneys, Franks, Randalls
Tradition! Anglican Easter, Jacksonville
Abe Lincoln's New Salem near Petersburg
Burma Shave still found on Illinois back roads
[One whole day of photos on night setting :~( ]
Searching for Cooper roots, Kankakee
Suddenly understood the common last name Consort!
How fun can it be!
Lunch with 4 of mom's Kankakee classmates!
Virginia, ,,,Betsy, Ruth
Now historic Geiger House, 999 S Chicago, Kankakee
Older sister Peggy and mom's wedding receptions were here
Making the most of a long evening at Midway during tornado watch
When
mom's grade schoolmate Virginia offered to show me around Kankakee, decided
to make a pilgrimage back to Illinois. Since I'd vowed to take a
break from Easter in Boise, planned long Easter weekend in Illinois.
Flew into Midway (gulp), rented car (gulp, gulp) and bumbled my way west
to Villa Park to sorority pal Margo and John's. Next afternoon, headed
down state in spitting snow to Gilman, to see the Layer house of photo
albums. The night before I flew, as I looked through old photos,
saw note that Grandmother Geiger was buried in Gilman. Having got
directions to the oldest cemetery with a stop at the post office, put on
all the clothes I'd brought--gloves, scarf, hat, long underwear--and braced
wind and rain, and found the small plot with surprising ease. Loved
the fragrance of nearby red(?) cedar.
Mission
accomplished, headed on to Jacksonville before dark, through farmland with
incredible black soil! I was totally nonplused (is that the word?)
with Illinois flatlands and gray skies--how could anyone live here!
(As if Idaho's not gray!) Little did I know gas stations would be
further apart in central Illinois than Nevada, or maybe I just assumed
they'd be everywhere. They were not. Pulled into Springfield
praying and practicing breathing deeply, with "the red light on", after
exits into towns without gas stations.
High school
classmate Bob and wife Kathy welcomed me to their delightful artistic home
for the weekend, a regular stop for many travelers I learned. How
wonderful to be welcomed by more folks I hadn't been in touch with for
decades! Fell deep asleep to familiar distant train whistles, head
on Danish pillow.
Saturday
I went off to satisfy the yearning to see Abe Lincoln's New Salem log cabin
village again--such strong memories! Missing sun and hills, drove
in narrow, patched back roads in circles for quite sometime! Recalled
childhood Sunday afternoon country, how we kids worried that dad (who'd
survived piloting over Africa in WWII) would get lost! Farm pond
also reminded me how dad had once told us about seeing a pig sliding on
a frozen pond on a drive to Peoria! Saturday evening Kathy and Bob
invited friends of mom and dad over for a lovely supper. I was deeply
touched to be with folks who recalled both my parents and dad's parents.
They casually mentioned so and so would be selling, units were available
here and there. Very seductive after all these years being new in
one community after another.
Sunday
I swallowed my gray words when the sun came out; birds called all over
Bob and Kathy's woodsy yard. Illinois was beautiful, and familiar.
When they headed to Quincy for a family visit, I went down to Trinity church
hoping to see some of my just revived roots. Enjoyed the stained
glass, but realized I must not be anglican when the priest spoke about
Dr Phil on Easter! Folks hustled off to Easter dinners before I had
a chance to re-introduce myself (only 40 years!), so I drove on down the
street, intending to go to noon mass.
But passed
the family congregational church where the Easter service was still going
on. Held my breath and returned, after all these years. Instantly
smitten by the pastor with her touch of Sister Wendy humor and passion.
Then I was emotionally overwhelmed by the big church I once knew so well,
paint curling off organ pipes--or were they crumbling--and once had such
mixed feelings about, which was now practically empty, just a handful of
scattered folks. No minister so clearly as wonderful as this one,
deserved this. But then, Jacksonville is about tradition. Out
West, I go to the church I like; here, you go to the church of your family.
Recognized a Heiss name tag and hustled over when the service finished,
choking back tears. Marjorie Heiss greeted me as though yesterday;
her "young" son Lokke was also visiting from The West. "I knew your
mother well", she said; "She ran away from Jacksonville, you know".
"She sure did", I said. And mom accused me of leaving the family!
I didn't bother to mention how many years mom lived in a place she resented.
Marjorie probably knew. Oy vey, what we leave behind! No wonder
we don't go back!
Still wanted
to stop in mass across town. Lit candle for family, especially new
convert Jamie. Catholics were the forbidden fruit of childhood; couldn't
resist visiting the church we'd been warned against so long ago (new version,
of course). Good to see a vital congregation after the first two
morning stops.
Felt kinda
lonely eating at Steak and Shake again on Easter--no lime shakes
this year--but realized I truly needed time alone. Drove to Meredosia
to find the grassland Rick recommended. Its blackened slopes still
smelled of burning. Made myself comfortable in a patch of sun in
the wooded drainage and wrote awhile. The "easter" bunny came by.
Don't see rabbits in doggy Boise.
The next
morning Randalls showed me how Illinois River flood lands are being returned
to natural. Sun out; another glorious day. Looked like winter--no
leaves; felt like spring. Just as I left, spring would burst.
Bob identified ducks before I saw them; I pointed out hawks. I was
enthralled by frogs calling; Bob identified 2 species (chorus and spring
peeper?). Love those Illinois woodlands, bluffs and narrow winding
roads! Wonderful in all ways to return. Especially Kathy answered
many a "where are they now?" After years of wondering, learned my/our
remarkable Hungarian, single mom, 5th grade as well as high school English
teacher, Ruth Kovacs, ended up teaching Greek and Latin literature at MacMurray
(College), Kathy's alma mater. Dr. Kovacs' unique encouragement of
my awkward interest in writing stayed underground for decades, not bursting
forth until Jean Bryant's journaling class in the late '80s. No one
yet knows where her wild kids, Tor and Lisa, are.
Then, good-byes.
Drove north
along the Illinois River, stopping at Dickson Mounds, whose skeletons with
mended bones and arrowheads in place, propelled me towards anthropology.
So much for the earthy Dickson Mounds of school trips! Utterly gone,
replaced with a slick entertainment museum. Above Peoria I cut east
towards Kankakee, past large farms, scattered homes, occasional old churches,
cemeteries. Arrived in Kankakee as the sun set, for the visit to
see mom's old stomping ground which started this trip. As soon as
as arrived (thanks to Virginia's exquisite directions) we got down to the
business of photos. "Those are our kids!", Virginia exclaimed, as
I she looked at an unidentified photo; her husband shrugged. She'd
kept my folks 1946 photo Christmas card, with the new kid in between!
Nearly 60
years later Nyhuises welcomed this toddler into their lovely dormer guest
room without batting an eye. I was certain I'd grown up with the
very same blue print wallpaper! In the morning, looked out on the
largest oak I remember. A chain stitch child sized Singer, just like
the one I remember mom had, sat on a shelf. I was deep in the past
with mom, whose memories of growing up in Kankakee warmed over the years.
Back in her hometown, I knew why. Virginia showed me homes where
Manns, Geigers and Troups once lived, now in a historic district, several
with backyards on the Kankakee River. A lifetime in Kankakee, no
better guide than Virginia.
On the
way to lunch with 3 more of mom's classmates, we passed a cemetery in middle
of town, which turned out to be full of records. Lunch was absolutely
delightful. "Your mom had the first hose; we think her dad worked
in hosiery. Furniture? Kroehler, yes. It's .... now."
On and on. Wonderful. Betsy escorted me back to the cemetery
where the clerk dug up locations and obituaries. We tromped around
looking for Cooper, Geiger, Troup and Mann stones. Snapped
digitals of all, not knowing who was who. Whyever did I think I was
an orphan?
Although
Virginia arranged for me to see the Gieger home the next morning, I was
spinning from 24 hours in Kankakee, more concerned about being within range
of Midway the next day than anything else. Returned to Margo and
John's for the evening, a good walk, and helpful debrief with Margo the
next day. Interested to observe Illini suffering "Abe and Mary Lincoln
syndrome"--dads on pedestals of incomparable integrity who die young; long
suffering, long-lived, unstable moms.
Tornado
warnings on the radio as I drove to Midway early. Knew the last flight
of the day could be risky. As a group of us were getting to know
each other during the delay, I borrowed cell phone to ask Caryl to sub--how
I'd looked forward to that yoga class! Obviously I wouldn't be back
in time. Luckily fine company for the long evening in Midway, and
a few hours from hell on the floor in Denver airport. Our patience
was "rewarded" with free movies on the plane; my horizons stretched as
I stared at professional poker with fascination and horror.
Rather
than midnight, the following noon I staggered to the car. The rest
of the day was a blurr. A day later I was relieved to be back among
the living!
