Memoirous

From left to right, Grover Snyder, Harry Snyder, Grandma Snyder, Josephine, Margaret (my grandmother), Jim Snyder, Avery Snyder. The above pic is undated, but appears to be late 1920s. Grandma Snyder died 1932 at age 79. Uncle Avery had a home across from Grandma Myers. There were 9 children born to Margaret and Amos Snyder. Two died in infancy, and one, Hattie Elizabeth died in 1917. Hattie Elizabeth was married to a Zachardy. Josephine was married to a John Zachardy. Not sure if the 2 sisters married brothers--or possibly the same man. Will look into this further.* Aunt Jo was older than Grandma Myers. Here are Aunt Jo and Grandma together. Here is Aunt Jo, I'm thinking around 1970. Not sure how old she is in above pic. I remember Aunt Jo only as an old, woman lying in bed. She was completely senile--I guess today we'd say she had dementia. Dementia seems to run in the women that side of the family. I intend to break the cycle. Remind me of this vow next week i...

photo identifies Snyder home where Grandma Myers lived Grandma Myers married Harvey Myers June 30, 1910. She was born Margaret Ann Snyder in 1883 and was the daughter of Margaret Snyder (nee Potter) and Amos Snyder. Margaret Snyder married Amos Snyder April 14, 1874. She died in 1932 at age 79. Not sure when Amos Snyder died.* Amos Emery Snyder Birth: 1848Death:  19 Jan. 1925 Not sure, but using a zoom the faces appear to be Grandpa and Grandma Snyder, home is different from the one above. Dress and the fact that they are not young, leads me to think circa 1915 - 1925.

July is a month for birthdays. My mom was born on the 11 th and my husband’s grandma’s birthday is July 8 th . My dad and daughter share the same day: July 24 th . This year there will be two less birthdays to celebrate. Not sure yet how I will honor my mother and father who passed away less than six months ago. Maybe I’ll just think about them. I remember waiting for my daughter to be born. I was actually energetic throughout most of my pregnancy. I ran! I biked! I walked to work every day. Until my due date, and then I woke up and thought, Okay now. Where’s this baby? As an expectant mother I expected to have a baby. Any minute. But the day came and went with nothing to show for it. That was it. The air went out of my balloon. I waddled over to my friend’s house. Sandy told me she had the remedy to help me get over my lack of baby blues. She had a baby for me. He’d been born with cocaine in his system and even though he could come home from the hospital his mother had...

Twenty-three years ago I had a baby girl at Illinois Masonic Hospital. I was supposed to have a natural birth in the family birthing center but after pushing for 24-hours straight the baby’s heartbeat became irregular and the midwives rightly suspected that the baby was under stress. So I was moved to labor & delivery with my husband and a girlfriend who was allowed in the room because when massaging me in the shower she’d gotten her street clothes all wet and put on an available pair of scrubs. She was in her element, masquerading as a doctor. Anyway, after twenty-four hours I was so tired I would have given birth to a goat. I just didn’t care. She popped out in the wee hours, a wee thing. My husband likened the experience to watching a doll inflate. All the sudden she was there, flailing and crying and I was told I didn’t have to push anymore. I was irrational, I wondered if it was a trick. But within seconds they had her on my chest all mucky and still attached to the umb...

CLICK on to enlarge. My grandfather was born Harvey Myers October 19, 1979. This makes me feel old. Believe me I am the youngest of the youngest, so he was long gone by the time I was born. This is my grandmother who died in 1976. The above is the obituary for my maternal great-grandmother Margaret Snyder, born July 25, 1853. WOW! This is old. Ohio had only been a state for 50 years. Her maiden name was Potter. Her mother, my great, great grandmother's last name was Cain. Great-grandma Snyder died in 1932. Margaret Snyder

I believe this is the earliest photo we have of my grandfather, Harvey Myers. The back of the photo reads in an excellent hand: Made June 1st, 1896 in Lebanon, Ohio. On my 19th birthday! I think my brother Tom will agree--they share a remarkable resemblance. Click on photo to enlarge. Harvey Myers with nephews  Corner of this photo says Galion, Ohio where the clippings confirm that Harvey went at age 10 to live with a sister after his parents death. His first marriage was in 1902 at age 23--so this photo I reckon precedes 1902.

Some real old ones here. 1933 front: neighbor boy, Ann (Mom), back: Becky, Gwen, neighbor boy, Mart no date but Mom, the baby in front was born July 11, 1924, this pic probably 1925 left to right: Mart, Gwen, possibly Dick Myers?, Becky by baby Ann no date, back of pic identifies Gwen and Ann no date, back of pic identifies Gwen w/cat, Becky holding a cat no date, back of pic identifies as Becky no date, back identifies as Ann and Becky I believe out of all her sisters, Mom was the closest to Becky. In the pics where Mom is like 7 or 8 I think she looks so so so much like my sister Nancy.

I work at a homeless shelter working amongst women--but every time I go there are always, especially as it is summer, swarms of children playing out front or in the lobby area. It breaks my heart. Here is a link to an article I just read at Salon: http://www.salon.com/2012/07/19/how_america_became_a_country_that_lets_little_kids_go_homeless_salpart/ about kids and homelessness. Here is also a link to a video where Demarra from the shelter where I volunteer tells her story of being a homeless student: http://www.ccolife.org/?p=2919 Here are some excerpts from the Salon article: "After hurricanes Katrina and Rita hit in 2005, advocates for the homeless were horrified to find that the storms had left one in 50 American kids without a home, a record high, according to a report by the  Coalition for Family Homelessness.  But only a few years later the financial crisis outperformed nature in casting catastrophe on poor Americans. After record...

The best things, the most memorable moments always seem to be spontaneous. They sneak up and surprise us. If planned for, then the magic is diminished. Not sure if this is true about everything. A kiss is nice no matter what—but typically overthinking it robs it of its impact. I’ve blogged about this earlier ( link ) that sometimes crazy chaos sparks, igniting a movement, the heat forging something new. Chaos created the Cornerstone Festival Ghost Ship. Artrageous has been part of the festival for years. Some of the art is planned, prepared, and brought to the festival. See Art Walk/Pilgrimage. But this year we also had different artists building and sculpting on the grounds. Dave Coleman, using (I think) plaster of paris, toilet paper, and ripped up sheets made a ghost ship. It stood out in the hot sun like a bleached boat, dry docked on stilts. It was a thing of beauty. Dave loved it. That’s why it hurt so bad when Karl Sullivan, the director of Artrageous suggested t...

I live in the Midwest, in Chicago where this year we have been experiencing a drought. Not sure, but it seems like we haven’t had significant rain since the beginning of May. After the record-setting heat wave last week the grass in the park is like straw. The trees look like October, turning brown and losing their leaves. The peach farmer I work for at the Green City Market (link) is beside herself. There is real fear about losing the crop entirely. This fear is compounded by the fact that they are already down in their harvest by over 40% because of the early warm spring and then late frosts.  Lately I’ve also been in a drought. Burned out. Maybe it was the two-week artist residency where I pushed out a revision on a 45,000-word YA novel. The intricacy of re-visioning, going over and over again the same material, sometimes rearranging, sharpening scenes, writing new material, and, at the same time, asking myself questions, pretending I was a reader approaching the boo...

July 6, 2012 (inspired by James Schuyler’s June 30, 1974 ) The hottest day on record and I have melted into the center of the earth And fallen into a molten core of— Love, there is so much love Around me that it hurts. I sweat—it’s not tears, and I’ll fake that it’s the sun The reason I feel so bad, But actually I’m afraid to say Goodbye and leave all of this . . . And all of you. Next year in this hot hell there will be Only the grass blowing in the wind. This was composed on a very hot day at Cornerstone Festival in my class on micro-memoir where a dozen of us bonded over words and memories. One of my participants—I’ll call him Dan. Actually his name was Dan. He is a fellow blogger who approaches his work from a very interesting angle. I’ve heard of people who adopt a persona when blogging. With Memoirous I experiment with tone and voice. For instance I’m not normally sarcastic. People sometimes get the impression I’m outgoing when in actuality...

A shot from the viking funeral. So epic. Photo by Laura Roberts May the community you shared continue, for now and always. That feeling of being with friends, I pray it will nourish you. Remember: you are never alone. Realize this—that your best-ever time at Cornerstone is only a mirror of what we can expect when we travel to that forever festival. Bands may crash and burn, reunite only to eventually split apart, but we know the music will go on.   If you have learned one thing from all of this, let it be to stay open. So many of us shared stories of coming with preconceptions and leaving with a much BIGGER picture of the kingdom of God. Yay! Christian Feminist Tent! Take with you the love of thousands of other like-minded people, the embers of 29 years of sunsets, and a million tiny moments of joy. Go in peace.