by MarianBeaman | Jul 27, 2013 | Coming of Age, Conflict, Family / Nostalgia, Mennonite History, Mennonite Lore, Uncategorized
The Martin clan gathers together for large family meals at my Grandma Longenecker’s house because Grandma, the oldest in her family, is a wonderful cook and has an enormous kitchen. Everybody likes Grandma, my dad’s mother. Grandma Fannie was a Martin and the Martins...
by MarianBeaman | Jul 17, 2013 | Coming of Age, Conflict, Family / Nostalgia, Memory, Mennonite Lore, Uncategorized
Thumbnail: Home is on Anchor Road, connecting our house to Grandma’s house and neighbors in between. The story continues . . . . . . . As we drive from Grandma’s past the Hoffers, I notice off to the right the weathered frame house of Mr. Heisey, who...
by MarianBeaman | Jul 3, 2013 | Coming of Age, Conflict, Family / Nostalgia, Mennonite Lore, Uncategorized
“Keep your hand upon the throttle and your eye upon the rail,” my Dad sings in his top-of–the-lungs baritone, the volume of his voice amplified by the force of his hands on the keyboard. Every Saturday night Daddy sits down at our mahogany Marshall and Wendell...
by MarianBeaman | Jun 26, 2013 | Coming of Age, Conflict, Family / Nostalgia, Mennonite Lore, Uncategorized
“Get out! Get out!” For heaven’s sake, that is my mom’s voice yelling at someone at the door. Why would she scream at a neighbor? But it wasn’t a neighbor. It was Stinky Joe. On a cold winter’s day, he had opened the door to the wash-house and was starting to...
by MarianBeaman | Jun 22, 2013 | Conflict, Family / Nostalgia, Mennonite History, Mennonite Lore, Uncategorized
Valentine’s Day conjures up images of hearts, flowers, and boxes of chocolate for most, but not for Yost. Yost is the father of Valentine Metzler, an ancester on my mother’s side of the family, born on Valentine’s Day, 1792. This past weekend, nearly 500 Metzlers from...
by MarianBeaman | Jun 19, 2013 | Conflict, Family / Nostalgia, Mennonite Lore, Uncategorized
Lititz Springs Park At the reunion, Uncle Clyde walks over to my mother and Aunt Cecilia to say something. We’re nosy and so we move closer to get within earshot. “Ruth, I believe Uncle Monroe’s and Uncle Herman’s bunch think you’re serving wine and won’t come over to...
