In particular my maternal grandparents, Bill and Ruth Thomas
My memories have made that wee curtain into a thin and frayed veil
Although my grandparents are now shadows in my memory, they are still with me as more than whispers in my heart and soul
I welcome them — these gifts from beyond
When my mother was growing up (in the Great Depression) my grandparents had a home and a business in Corona, New Mexico. Which at the time had a railroad station and was a throughway onto bigger places.
Granddad’s business was a gas station and garage.
Will built it with his own hands, and he built the house they lived in.
Grandma planted Heavenly Blue morning glories on either side of the front porch and they put a white picket fence in front of the house.
The back yard was just fenced in.
Anyway…one of the stories I keep remembering fondly is the tramps would ride the rails into town jump off and then look for places to eat or live or just hang out until jumping back on the train.
Or the people moving from the Dust Bowl broken and frequently so discouraged to almost seem dead, having to stop because of vehicle problems.
My grandfather never believed in giving a man a hand-out or credit. If you couldn’t pay or were desperate he always had you work — sweep the floor, help to do ‘something’. He would tell Danny (my brother) and I: “A hand-out never gives a person self-respect. Always, always give them self-respect THEN help them out. And when you help them out, it’s okay to give the shirt off your back, because it always, always comes back to you in a different way.”
Now, back at the house, just up the road a short way, and not far from the railroad tracks, Grandma always kept a big pot of soup on the wood stove. If a person came hallooing at the front gate, either she or Momma would ask the person in, dish up a big bowl of soup sit it in front of the person with a hunk of buttered cornbread.
Then the person would doff their hat (for almost always the person was a man) say: “Thankee, Ma’am, sure is a fine meal.) And move on out the back gate heading toward the gas station to see Mister Will.
Now, since most activities were in the back of the house and through the iron gate back there Momma and her family never really went to the front of the house. But one day Momma had walked down to the garage and decided to come back to the house through the front picket fence gate.
When she got there she was surprised to see lines scratched into the pickets next to the front gate line which looked like this IIII IIII IIII
Running into the house she brought her mother back out who just stood there non-plussed. Not knowing why or what it meant she sent Momma down to the Garage to get Will.
When Will got back and looked at the fence he broke out in laughter. “Well, I’ll be,” he declared…”Now I understand why we get so many folks eating soup.” The drifters marked the fence letting folks know here is a good place to eat and where to get a small job.
Memories…a small tear in the veil from beyond,
From my heart to your world,
Linda
Life on a Colorado Farm 
What a beautiful tribute to your grandparents!
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Thank you, George.
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Very cool stories and photos. I always wondered where I got the idea that you shouldn’t give handouts. That has been substantiated by psychological research.
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From Granddad!
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Yes! Hoboglyphs! (For instance, four horizontal lines means “Housewife feeds for chores.”)
Its a truly fascinating history of hoboglyphs/hobo code, especially during the Great Depression.
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OH! Interesting I didn’t know that! Thank you so much
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Chaucea…would you might is I use your statement (with credit to you) in tomorrows post?
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Oh goodness, I apologize for not seeing your comment sooner. Absolutely, yes you can. There’s a lot of information about the hobo code online, with a good number of images showing the different symbols and their meanins. Really fascinating stuff! 😀
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Good! Thank you, Chaucea someone sent me one, but you mentioned them so I want to mention you! It might be a day or so I got some cool moon photos to share first! 🙂
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you do have the knack of weaving with the werdz to present the over-all picture — and some sense of emotion of how things were. remote new mexico, huh?
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It wasn’t when Mom grew up, but very much so now.
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Oh, Thank You. I have much similar memories. My folks were farming and trying to run a store in the Depression, and they said it was AWFUL. People really were broken. It’s good to remember our families and what they overcame.
Katie
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It is…and sometimes…just sometimes, I think our youth just had now way of really understanding.
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I love family stories like this.
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They make me smile too!
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That is beautiful—for some reason I don’t have any memories similar to yours. I never knew my Father’s parents and I only remember my Mother’s Mother which would be my Grammy. We lived in different states. Grammy was a doctor and her husband–Grampa Joe–was a fireman who died early.
I like your last sentence–a tear in the veil—is that a tear as in rip or a tear as in crying? They both fit
MB
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They both fit. I think the rip in the veil made my cry. Sigh!
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Wonderful story and wonderful post Linda… I read it aloud to Himself…such a moving story XXXXX
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Oh! Thank you, Valerie! You are most kind.
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I love this story – and you tell it so well! I hope that stories like these never get lost. I fear that no one will care to listen – like no one wants the items we call antiques that have been so cherished.
And I’ve been through Corona, NM ~
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It is a tiny, no where town now, isn’t it?
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Thanks for sharing your memories.
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What lovely memories. Those were hard times for so many people. I so enjoy your photos and lyrical style of describing the moment.
On Mon, Feb 18, 2019 at 11:40 AM Life on a Colorado Farm wrote:
> Dayphoto posted: ” In particular my maternal grandparents, Bill and Ruth > Thomas My memories have made that wee curtain into a thin and frayed veil > Although my grandparents are now shadows in my memory, they are still with > me as more than whispers in my heart a” >
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You are most lovely to give me this delightful comment! Thank you so very much!
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What wonderful old photos and the stories to go with them. I love that your Grandam Loved Morning Glories:) Thanks for sharing about them:)
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You are welcome! 🙂
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I had to come back and re-read this. It’s a wonderful family memory and one to be treasured. I have always felt the same way about handouts over handups. That is a great story that I’m sure will be told through your many generations. Something to feel very proud of with a family that cares for others.
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Thank you so much for your delightful and warm comment, Marlene! Hugs!
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How lovely Linda … such fond memories of very special people
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Thank you, Julie!
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