JOURNEYS

JOURNEYS

Hilltop Inn, Montpelier VT

February 8, 2012

395N…. 2W…. 84W… 91N……… a blur of green signs marches past in an anonymous parade; the radio drones on.  The sun is setting on a gray-brown landscape deprived of snow in this mild winter.  Finally the car merges onto I89N….a soft white cape of fallen snow joins the colors of the landscape as the sun passes behind the hills. 

EXIT 1: RUTLAND.  I laugh to myself as I think of Grandpa’s stories of Lars, Laura’s second husband after Eli.  Grandpa told how proud Lars was to come from “RUTLAND”.  I was too young to fully understand, yet old enough to sense the note of irony in his voice.  I turn off the radio as I begin to hear and treasure voices that are no longer.

EXIT 3: ROYALTON.  Time stands still.  I’ve touched those letters etched in pencil on diary pages one hundred years old.  The air pulses with the lives lived here – neighbors, friends, and relatives.  I hear echoes of their voices; I sense their gentle movement.  Is this what it is to feel history?

EXIT 4: RANDOLPH – VERMONT TECHNICAL COLLEGE.  One hundred years ago my grandfather Ralph was a skinny schoolboy learning the science of agriculture at this school.  And Randolph: it’s over there on the right.  Is my car still moving?  I seem to stay in this space forever.   I think of the past four hours’ journey from Connecticut, my Forester speeding over the interstate highway system.  Now my car seems to have stopped in time.  How many times did Eleanor and Ralph travel back “home” from Connecticut?  I know of two trips.

The first journey was on April 19, 1929.  “Grampa Dearing”, Ralph’s foster father, had been failing for months and finally passed away on April 18^th.   Claude, Ralph’s younger brother, was still living with the Dearing family.  According Claude’s letter written four days earlier:

“Grampa is failing pretty fast now.  We noticed about a week ago he was very different his color is very bad.  He has set in his chair night and day for almost a month until night before last the Dr came and we got him on to the bed.  I don’t think he is in much pain as he was.   His head is clear most of the time lately.  Day before yesterday he brightened up for an hour and talked about different things as clear as ever.  Among other things he quoted passages from the bible and recited poems just as he used to.  The Dr told us he might last for two weeks but we need not be surprised if the end came any time.” 

Ralph and Eleanor traveled to Randolph from East Lyme, CT for the funeral.  They made the trip in one day since Ralph had responsibilities as manager of White Gate Farm.  That was no small feat in those days.  According to Grandpa’s diary:

“Sat., April 20, 1929:  E. and I started for Vt. this morn.  Got up here about 9:30 P.M.  Roads very bad some of the way.  Stopped at Windsor for supper.  Came up through Newport and Keene.”

And returning to Connecticut, he wrote:

“Mon., April 22, 1929:  We walked down over the hill from Mrs. Dearings’ this morn. and started back for Conn., got stuck in the mud twice, and got back here about midnight.  Nice day all the way.”

Back home the next day, they immediately returned to their responsibilities:  Ralph stacking hay in the barn and both Eleanor and Ralph washing the car “which was pretty well covered with Vt. mud.”

Meantime, back home in Vermont, Claude’s health had been failing.  He suffered from the after-effects of “infantile paralysis”.   It was becoming increasingly difficult for him to cope.  Breathing was difficult, he was losing control of his muscles, and the viciously cold Vermont air hit him hard due to his condition.  Tragically, Claude took his life fifteen days after losing his “Grampa Dearing”; twelve days after seeing his brother and sister-in-law for the last time.  He wrote to his loved ones, “I am going to find Grampa.” 

As so it was that once again Ralph and Eleanor found themselves traveling to Vermont for a funeral.

“Sat. May 4, 1929:  E. & I started for Vt. this morn. at 4:50.  Got to Randolph at 12:30M.  Made arrangements for the funeral.   The body was brought to Randolph yesterday.  We stayed with Mrs. Dearing overnight.  Pretty lonesome.  Mr. and Mrs. Harvey stayed with the children.” 

As my car moves along the interstate, I think of the stories I have heard about Ralph and Claude.  The obstacles that they faced on their life journeys were immense:  losing their baby sister and mother, life with an unfriendly step-mother, subsequent beatings by an abusive father, separation as they were placed in various foster homes, more mistreatment, and then their reunion – finally – at George and Abbie Dearing’s home.  I have seen a photo of the teenaged brothers.  The struggles that they faced both together and alone explain the devotion in the photo:  heads tipped together, arms around each other, eyes sharing more pain than is right to feel at that young age.  

EXIT 7: BARRE.  I realize that my car is still moving along the interstate.  I see the image of one more journey.  My great grandfather, Edward Fitts, has loaded a wagon with one hundred pounds of butter, five butchered hogs and a butchered beef.  It is 1904.  He is carrying the items from the Randolph farm to the market in Barre on a Tuesday.  The journey is long; he will make the round trip in two days.  He will stay overnight in Barre or maybe in Williamstown.  He may stop to buy feed on his return trip at the railroad depot in Williamstown.  If so, he will need to leave the heavy load at the bottom of the hill and return on Thursday with a rested team to haul it to the farm.   

There is so much in the air up here….echoes, ghosts, memories and movement.  Tomorrow I will see the places I’ve read about in the diaries.  Perhaps I will find the route that my great grandfather’s team traveled to Barre.  And tonight I will relish the profoundly moving experience of my family’s history.