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 18th. 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.
