Good Living in West Frankfort Winter 2017 by Michael Thomas

Good Living In

West Frankfort No. 30 Fall/Winter 2017

Showcasing the People, Places and Pride of West Frankfort, Illinois

Frank Owen Remembers Main Street Magic The Witches of Fitts Hill Homecoming at Thanksgiving Cactus Pete Thin Ice of a New Day Cunninghams and Clarks Holiday Memories

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West Frankfort No. 30 Fall/Winter

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Publisher’s Letter

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West Frankfort

hen Myrna Warren approached us about buying an In Memoriam to Larry from her and her family, we knew that we had to add a memorial of our own. Larry Warren was the first person to believe in ,” Good Living in West Frankfort. It was during Larry Warren’s term as mayor that Mike and I published the first issue of the magazine. The city paid for it, so there were no ads and it was used as a promotion for West Frankfort. It was so well received by residents, that we were encouraged to continue publication of future issues, supported by selling advertisements to local businesses. Throughout those years, and up until his recent death, no one supported our endeavors more than Larry Warren. He and Myrna eagerly awaited each issue, praised it to anyone who would listen, mailed it to friends and relatives from coast to coast and encouraged us to continue our efforts. The Warrens were among our greatest fans. In this holiday issue, we have tried to find more of the historic, unusual and lesser known stories that we know our readers enjoy the most. Thank you to all of

you who have told us how you enjoy sharing the magazine, how you read and reread every issue and how much you appreciate our efforts. Creating for compliments is what has made this

In Memoriam

made it. We have talked of possibly publishing a holiday issue next year, but that will have to be decided when the time comes. For now, we are very much in agreement that this second career is over. It’s time to retire again. We haven’t done this alone. A huge debt of gratitude goes to our advertisers, so many who have supported every issue since the first, who for over ten years, have bought an ad, not necessarily because they expected it to bring them more business – everybody already knows they are here – but only because they thought “Good Living in West Frankfort” was just a good thing for the face of our community. Thank you to Brandon Sawalich who’s generous commitment has made sure that the magazine was always profitable at least. Thank you to all of our faithful readers who have read the magazine, loved it and told us so. It’s been a good run. We love you all.

With Love from Myrna and the Warren Family

a labor of love for over ten years. Mike used to say that every time a new issue was delivered from the printer to our door, it was like Christmas morning. Each issue, more recently, especially this one has been a little more like the morning after Christmas –a warm feeling, satisfaction, but a big sigh that we

Gail Rissi Thomas, Publisher

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West Frankfort No. 30 Fall/Winter 2017 3

PLEASE SUPPORT OUR ADVERTISERS THEY MAKE THIS MAGAZINE POSSIBLE Aaron Hopkins, Attorney .......................... pg. 28 All American Hearing .............................. pg. 31 Banterra Bank ....................................... pg. 13 B F J Interiors...... ...................................... pg. 29 Browning Clark Automotive .................. pg. 18 Burg’s Hair Parlour ............................... pg. 21 Calico Country Sew & Vac ...................... pg. 9 E. R. Brown Furniture ............................... pg. 29 Frankfort Area Historical Museum ..... Back Gandy’s Auto Body Shop ..................... pg. 30 G. L. Williams Real Estate ...................... pg. 26 Herron Rehab & Wellness Center ....... pg. 28 Honker Hill Winery ................................ pg. 21 J & S Professional Pharmacy ..................... pg. 2 Johnson Real Estate ................................. pg. 29 Lacy Rose Botique ..................................... pg. 28 Lance Brown, Attorney ............................. pg. 17 McCord’s Market ..................................... pg. 29 McDonald’s ............................................... pg. 4 Mike Riva, Attorney .................................. pg. 9 Nolen Chiropractic ................................... pg. 12 Parker-Reedy Funeral Home ................... pg. 7 Paul Lawrence Insurance .......................... pg. 13 Ramey Insurance ....................................... pg. 19 Sandy’s Flowers & Gifts ............................ pg. 9 Sandy’s Two ............................................... pg. 9 Severin Garden Center ............................ pg. 16 Southern Illinois Bank ............................. pg. 12 Stotlar-Herrin Lumber ........................... pg. 28 Union Funeral Home .............................. pg. 21 Volanski Heating & Air ............................. pg. 14 Watsons Jewelers .................................... pg. 7 Weeks Chevy-Buick-GMC ...................... pg. 12 West Frankfort House Furnishing ........... pg. 29 WF Chamber of Commerce ...................... pg. 29 Your Heart’s Desire ................................. pg. 4 Contact Michael A. Thomas at 937-2019 if you wish to advertise in “Good Living in West Frankfort”.

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West Frankfort No. 30 Fall/Winter

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West Frankfort 6

6 10 14

A legend about witches from West Frankfort that gained world-wide attention in 1871 is explored but leaves many unaswered questions.

26 22

Up until 1984, Turkey Day meant the big football game against Benton and FCHS Homecoming on Thanksgiving .

18 20 22 25

20 25

Who remembers Cactus Pete? We bet you do! Gary Marx wonders if we can teach our children to live in today’s world without fear. West Frankfort residents share memorable holiday stories from the heart.

Ever wonder what it feels like to grow up in a large family? With seven kids each, the Clarks and the Cunninghams knowall about it..

Good Living in West Frankfort is a magazine about the people, places and pride of West Frankfort. Our goal is to showcase interesting, unique and previously unpublished stories about the citizens, events and places in our community in a positive manner. Good Living in West Frankfort provides businesses the choice to advertise in a high-quality full-color venue at affordable prices. This magazine is free to our readers because of those advertisers.

ON THE COVER: A late winter snow storm in 2008 blanketed the West Frankfort city park with picture-perfect snow. A larger version of this photo hangs in the lobby of the J & S Professional Pharmacy Building. (Photo Pby Michael A, Thomas)

Table of Contents

98-year old Frank Owen remembers a West Frankfort when horses shared the road with automobiles. A few volunteers turned West Frankfort’s Main Street into a flowery showcase and the envy of other towns in Southern Illinois.

No. 30 Fall 2017

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West Frankfort Good Life Publications 309 East Oak Street West Frankfort, IL 62896 Ph: (618) 937-2019 E-mail Contact: GoodLifePublications@Gmail.com

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West Frankfort No. 30 Fall/Winter 2017 5

Courtesy of West Frankfort Historical Museum

By Gail Rissi Thomas rank Owen is a name that most |West Frankfort residents probably wouldn’t recognize in 2017, but in 1920, he was born in Frankfort Heights and his roots run so deep that in bits and pieces memories of this town and the time he spent growing up here continue to rise to the surface.

We were delighted when he called to tell us that he would like to talk to us about West Frankfort. We were only about ten days from deadline, but we gladly dropped everything and drove to Carbondale one afternoon to savor what he had to share. Mr. Owen had found our phone number in the West Frankfort magazine, the same magazine which displays the big white house on the back cover, the house where he was born 98 years ago. Owen’s mother was Celeste Dimmick, one of the 11 children born to Frank and Emily Charlotte Dimmick. The house,

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now owned by former resident Brandon Sawalich, has been lovingly restored and maintained, but it’s much different than the original.

stroyed over the years.”

“At first it was a log cabin, lit by kerosene lanterns, candles and a fireplace in every bedroom. The second and third story were added later and the house was sided. My parents moved to Carbondale when I was just a kid, but I lived there on the farm with my grandparents until I was 15,” Owen told us. And did Abe Lincoln ever stay at the Dimmick Inn, as the legend goes? “That is what my grandfather always told me,” he said. “He came to Illinois and campaigned for about three days, during which time he stayed at the house, then also known as the Dimmick Inn.” According to stories that Owen’s sister, Lottie recalls, “He stayed in the rooms on the third floor. There were ledgers down in the basement of that house at one time, and no one knows what happened to them. Apparently they were de-

West Frankfort No. 30 Fall/Winter

2017

Frank Owen was born in the old Dimmick House, 98 years ago, and remembers, as a little boy, when Main Street was a dirt and gravel road. (Photo by Michael Thomas)

“ I remember when they put up the new water tower in the cemetery, just about where it stands today. My brother and I decided to go for a swim in it.” --Frank Owen The house was surrounded by the Dimmick Farm, and what a farm it was. “On a snowy day, I used to be able to jump off our front porch on my sled, and glide all the way down North Benton Road to where the peach orchard was, which was right where you turn now to go into the cemetery. I used to ride my pony, Peaches, with my grandfather on his horse, Charley, all the way down to the far edge of the farmland that he owned near Cherry Street.” The Dimmicks also owned parcels of land downtown, such as the lot where Parker Reedy funeral Home is now located as well as the land on East Main near Emma Street where the Dimmick Hotel and Coffee Shop sat. “It was just a road of rock and dirt all the way through town,” Owen said. “They didn’t pave Main Street until much later than that.” “We played up on Pasteboard Mountains,” he continued. “Pasteboard Mountains were the slopes and hills off to the East side of Benton Road. I don’t know how they got the name Pasteboard Mountains. I guess because they looked like cardboard cartons when you saw them from the top.” By surprise, as I was working on this article, Owen’s sister, Lottie Owen Harvey called me unexpectedly from New Jersey. As we talked I asked her about Pasteboard Mountains. “Well,” Mrs. Harvey explained, “they used to take the steam shovels of dirt from the mines and dump them on that land. It became very loose dirt, not solid but very fragile, and was given that name by the people who lived there that didn’t like that happening. They called it pasteboard, because at that time, boxes or cartons used for shipping were made out of a very flimsy pasteboard. That’s how they came to be known.” John Dimmick also contributed to this story with his memories of playing with cousins on Pasteboard Mountains. “They were just brown mounds of dirt and brush on the east side of what is now Walnut Street,” he said. “They certainly weren’t mountains, although I guess they seemed like it to us as kids. That road down toward Ninth Street, was just dirt, mud and cinders all the way after you get to where it turns off into the

cemetery. The peach orchard sat to the west side, near where the water tower is now. My dad, Leslie Dimmick, told me that there were once as many as 1,000 peach trees there.” “I started kindergarten in the little wooden school that was just to the left of the big house; it sat kind of behind where the Methodist church is now,” Owen said.

“That first little school and the house were separated by the cook house or summer kitchen; all the cooking was done there and brought over to the big house. Later, by about fifth grade, they had built the big school, what is now the Historical Museum. We had American Indians in our school and children from several different countries. Probably about 50% of the chil-

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dren couldn’t speak English. They spoke Polish, Russian, Spanish, Italian and probably some other languages. We picked up some of their language, but they learned English from us much faster.”

Speaking of hanging, Owen had memories of the hanging of Charlie Birger at Benton. “I was about 8 or 9 years old at the time. My grandfather took me with him to Benton and he watched the hanging with a huge crowd of people, but he wouldn’t let me watch it. We used to see the gangs in town a lot before that,” Owen said. “They used to drive through town in their convertibles showing off the guns and machine guns they carried. The Birger Gang had a hideout at Shady Rest, but they were often in West Frankfort, and some of them lived here. The Shelton Gang was centered in Herrin, but a couple of them were from West Frankfort too.” The Dimmick Hotel (letterhead above) was a bustling place in the 1920’s when a young Frank Owen stood with his Grandfather Dimmick and watched from the “I also remember seeing the Ku Klux hotel lobby as the Ku Klux Klan paraded down Main Klan riding through Main Street,” Owen Street on horseback. (provided) added. “It was always at night, but I saw them because they used to go right down There were plenty of things for a young past the Dimmick Hotel. I would be there boy with a brother close in age to do to en- with my grandfather. They never bothtertain themselves on the Dimmick Farm in ered us or anything, because at that time, the 1930’s. “ I remember when they put up it was mainly the Italians they were after. the new water tower in the cemetery, just That was around the time of the race riabout where it stands today. My brother ots, when they tried to drive all the Italian and I decided to go for a swim in it,” he families out of town after the murder of the laughed. “You talk about trouble. Boy did Italian boy. It was still quite a frightenwe ever get in trouble when my grandfather ing spectacle to see. Of course they wore found out. I remember him grabbing me by their sheets and big pointed hoods which the shoulders and shaking me. ‘You NEV- completely covered their faces except for ER do that again, do you hear?” he said, their eyes and mouths. Their horses were shaking me. “The water tower was almost covered with hoods only with openings for full to the brim and it was still uncovered,” their eyes, mouths and nostrils. They even Owen said, by way of illustration. “It had a had white bindings on the horses feet, beladder that went down inside of it, but was cause they knew people at that time could so full of water, I guess we stayed up near identify horses by the markings on their the top. I don’t know what would have feet and would then know who the riders happened if the water had drained out and were. They carried kerosene torches and we had been down inside on the bottom. the leaders in the front cracked big bull That would have been a fine fix. We never whips as they rode through town.” did that again.” Owen also shared some dark memories of incidents he remembered from that time. “I clearly remember the stock market crash in 1929,” he said. “We had five banks in West Frankfort, and every one of them closed. People couldn’t get their money out and they just lost every dime they had. I know my grandfather lost a lot of money, but fortunately, he like a lot of men at that time didn’t completely trust the banking system anyway and kept an amount of money with them in their homes. I know that there were a lot of suicides because of men who lost everything. My grandfather knew men very well who hanged themselves in desperation.”

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Owen enlisted in the Navy in 1939, nearly 2 years before Pearl Harbor, and was stationed in the North Atlantic as a gunnery officer aboard a destroyer. (photo provided

Frank Owen lived in West Frankfort on the Dimmick Farm until he was 15 years old, and then moved to Carbondale with his parents. He was married in 1939 at the age of 19, and Owen enlisted in the Navy and was assigned as a gunnery officer to a destroyer out of Boston. Early in his career he patrolled the North Atlantic, escorting merchant ships bound to England and Russia with Lend-Lease goods, vital to those countries embroiled in WWII. “The Germans wouldn’t attack American ships then, because we didn’t enter the war until after Pearl Harbor in December of 1941. But after that, we had plenty of action,” Owen said. “You could see the wake of the torpedoes as the U-Boats fired at us. I lost a lot of friends.”

During the war, his wife, Naomi, kept a seamstress shop in Boston, where she maintained a very successful business taking care of military uniforms, altering and repairing them. Owen didn’t return home until about 6 months after the end of the war at which time he met his 21/2 year-old daughter for the first time. Naomi passed away, but Owen still lives in Carbondale. He has three children, Charlotte Anne, Bonnie and Frank, Frank and Naomi Owen are pictured in the 1940’s with two of their Jr., all of whom are living. three children, daughters Charlotte Anne and Bonnie. Frank missed the first 2 1/2 years of Charlotte Anne’s life as he served his country during WWII. (photo provided)

West Frankfort No. 30 Fall/Winter

2017

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Jumbo plant containers burst with a variety of plants in the 300 block of East Main.

Story and Photos by Michael A. Thomas

est Frankfort, long known as the Furniture Capital of Southern Illinois may soon be known as the Furniture and Flower Capital if a small, but dedicated, group of citizens have anything to say about it. The beautiful and picturesque landscaping that adorns Main Street for seven blocks is spearheaded by Connie Howard, Danella Dimmick and Harriett Willis. These three women, with help from their respective husbands, friends and city officials, are the driving force behind the transformation of Main Street from dull and ordinary to exciting and extraordinary. Now in its third year, the beautification project began when Howard noticed how other towns used landscaping to spruce up their downtown area. With the idea of ‘why can’t we do this in West Frankfort?’, Howard took pictures and began formulating a plan to improve the looks of her home town. “(My husband) Keith and I would travel all the time and see beautiful areas in small towns and then come back home.

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I would say to him, “This town looks like a tired old gal, and I’m good at hiding ugly. If we make this pretty, people won’t see the ugly” Another inspiration for Howard came from her frequent trips to Barnes-Jewish Hospital in St. Louis. The beautiful landscaping in and around the medical facilities in the area—including Children’s Hospital and the Siteman Cancer Center—never failed to uplift her spirits. “My goal was to be as good if not better than St. Louis,” Howard said.

wanted to make things pretty and asked for the city’s help. Tom (Jordan) was skeptical at first, but he agreed to help.” The city donated $5,000 to the group with the understanding that the group would do all the work . The required water truck was also provided as well and in year three, the use of a golf cart. The group turned to Max Jones, a profes-

She posted her pictures on Facebook and asked if anybody would be interested in helping make her idea of a more beautiful city come to fruition. That is when Danella Dimmick and Harriet Willis volunteered to help. “We made an appointment with Mayor Jordan and told him we needed two things: (1) a water truck and (2) money. We told him we didn’t want to form a 501c, which would require a board of directors, regular meetings and a lot of paperwork. We just

West Frankfort No. 30 Fall/Winter

2017

Connie Howard trims a Coelus plant in front of E.R. Brown Furrniture store.

(Above) Harriett Willis and Connie Howard plant flowers in the 400 block of East Main Street. (Below): Danella Dimmick works on begonias and canna plants at the intersection of Main and Rt. 37. (Right): City employee Raymand Ketteman waters a towering canna plant near Ace Hardware store. Ketteman says it takes 400 gallons of water to complete his daily task of watering.

sional landscape designer who gave the group ideas and designs. Commercial plant containers, while not as large as those Howard had seen in St. Louis, were ordered. They were large enough to look bountiful yet small enough to be moved if necessary which gave the design flexibility. Jones gave the group tips on soil mix, which plants to use, especially since the south side of Main Street receives less sun than the north. “Some varieties of Begonias thrive in the sun, others not so much, so we planted accordingly,” Howard explained. Additionally, a few hanging baskets, each weighing 75 pounds and taking two men to attach to light poles, were ordered as prototypes and placed between the first two blocks of East Main Street. The first year proved to be a resounding success. The feedback from the citizenry and merchants insured that the project

would continue. “They hit it out of the ball park,” said West Frankfort Mayor Tom Jordan.“ I had people coming up to me all the time telling me how beautiful those flowers look. In fact, I was in Chicago at an Illinois Municipal League meeting and Steve Frattini, the mayor of Herrin, came up to me and asked how we were doing our flowers. He said the people in Herrin are driving him crazy asking why can’t we do that it in our town. When I told him about our volunteers, he asked me if I thought they would be willing to come to Herrin and talk. I said I am sure they would, but don’t ask them to work for you,”said Jordan with a chuckle. The ladies readily share their secrets, but the answer to how they get such fantastic results is really a matter of hard and dedicated work. “You just can’t plant flowers and think you’re done. Planting is the easy part,” said Howard. “We spend 5-6 hours a week to maintain the flowers. “You can’t just plant them and walk away. If you do that you will have flowers that look like those in all the other towns in the area.” “We would like to apprentice people on how to take care of them,” said Howard. “For instance, some of our petunias got a disease called ‘white fly’ late in the season and we had to pull them out. If we had not caught those in time, we could have lost them all.” Howard even carries Clorox wipes with her to clean her tools between planters, just to avoid contamination from one plant to the next. City employee Raymond Ketteman spends upwards to an hour a morning watering the plants. Fertilizer is applied every Wednesday. Howard, Dimmick and Willis ‘deadhead’ the flowers, check for disease and make sure the plants are thriving. “We call Good Living in

them our babies.” said Dimmick. “And I know it sounds silly, but I like to talk to them when I am taking care of them.” “People who were naysayers in the beginning are believers now,” remarked Harriett Willis. “It’s worth everhy bit of time and energy put into it. I love the smell of dirt and I can’t wait to start planting next year.” Now finishing it’s third year, there are more containers and more hanging baskets. But Howard said they are not quite finished. “We want to do more at Strand Park and the Miner’s Memorial Park near the railroad tracks. They put in a nice sod lawn with an irrigation system but the grass got cut too short, a heat wave struck and the sod died. We’re getting ready to do some fertilization on both lawns and hopefully we can get it back to good. The roses bushes at the park were diseased and with the help of Bryan Grazanich, from Severin’s Garden Center, we took them out.” The Strand Park is now decorated with fall mums, straw bales and cornstalks. Closer to Christmas, a 23 foot artificial tree will don the space. Even though the women are all in their 60’s, they are looking forward to Spring of 2018 for more flowers and don’t intend to stop their efforts. “As long as we can, we are gonna keep doing it,” said Dimmick. “We look at West Frankfort now and it looks like a town that cares, a town that is trying,” said Howard. “And I think our flowers look better than those at BarnesJewish,” she said proudly. Those wishing to make a donation to the city of West Frankfort to further the beautification of downtown can make their checks payable to “Garden Group” or “City Beautification Fund” and mail them to West Frankfort City Hall, 110 North Jefferson, West Frankfort, IL 62896.

West Frankfort No. 30 Fall/Winter 2017 11

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The Witches of Fitts Hil By Gail Rissi Thomas

(Ed. note: Actual house is long gone. This is only an illustration.)

“I

f you read it on the Internet,You know it’s true.” I’m sure we’ve all heard that statement, and just as sure that we know that’s one truth that may not be true at all. Actually like so much fake news that dominates Facebook, Twitter and so much of social media these days, reposting an interesting story may make you end up feeling and looking stupid. And the more astonishing it seems, probably the more unbelievable it is. I wonder how many people reading this have heard or read the story of the two young girls in Old Frankfort, long before there was a West Frankfort, who made quite a name for themselves, if only anyone had ever known their names. In 1871, ac-

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cording to various accounts both in books and on the Internet two young sisters, aged 18 and 16 we are told, were bewitched by an old witch who lived down the road from them. The girls lived at Fitts Hill in Franklin County. Before you Say, like I did, “There is no such place because I have never heard of it,” I can share with you, that there is. Fitts Hill was a settlement where Antioch Road meets #9 blacktop southeast of Frankfort Heights. The story, was reported far and wide in a newspaper article which was printed and reprinted with only slight variations in major papers around the country and even in Europe. It’s popularity made it so fascinating that it even found its

way into The London Times. The Times July 20, 1871 edition featured this article on page one. “Witch Revival”—Although in this country we often see people bewitched by young ladies, we are happily spared the pain of seeing young ladies themselves bewitched. A case of witchcraft has, however, lately occurred in America, two young ladies being the sufferers, and the results, as described by a correspondent of The Shawneetown Gazette, dating from Frankfort, Illinois on the 19th, are not only peculiar but painful in the extreme. The young ladies in question, the Misses Williams, living about eight miles from Frankfort, were first affected on the 1st of April, last. Their strangeness was

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West Frankfort No. 30 Fall/Winter

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at first attributed to insanity, but their father, Mr. James Williams, not feeling satisfied on this point, consulted a physician about three weeks ago, who could discover no symptoms of insanity in them, and the singular affection under which they labour can be accounted for in no other way than that they have been bewitched, as they state, by a neighbouring old lady whom they have offended. Under any circumstances their conduct is most eccentric, and hundreds of persons assemble outside their house each night to witness their performances. These performances consist of various acrobatic feats on the roof of the dwelling which they inhabit. They are perfectly composed during the day, but as night approaches, they become frenzied and uncontrollable, scaling the roof of the house, where they dance “upon the comb of the roof of the building,” with perfect ease and impunity, uttering at the same time, the most hideous screams. Frequently they are seized with fits or spasms, when they fall perfectly stiff and flat; but however near the eaves, they never tumble from the housetop. They are aged 16 and 18 and both below the average height. When the spell falls upon them, about sunset, they break into a run simultaneously, running north, in the direction of the house of an old lady, who it is stated occasionally joins the in their dangerous dance on the roof accompanied by a favourite cat. Their conversation when laboring under these spells is in an unknown tongue. They catch and eat all the flies they can get

hold of until nausea is produced and they both vomit at the same time. What one does, the other does simultaneously, as if governed by one controlling force.” We have always known that the general public has a huge appetite for the sensational, and the mix of the weird or supernatural makes it all the more appealing. That element may be what made this story spread like wildfire throughout the country. Through the website, Newspapers.com, it can be verified that the story with little variation was published in major newspapers from coast to coast. “A Nice Pair of Girls First Class Sensation. A Fortune for Some Showman,” headed up the page one story in the Arkansas Gazette in Little Rock” on June 28, 1871, The Nebraska state Journal in Lincoln, also showed a little skepticism with their headline, “This Is the Way They Talk of Young Ladies, Vivacious and Convivial, Out in the Sucker State.” My goodness, are they talking about us Illinoisans? The Pittsburg Daily Post, flat out, calls it what it is, “A sensation: Witchcraft in Illinois,” as did The Wilmington Morning Star, with “The Antics of Two Illinois Maidens.” The Quad City Times in Davenport, Iowa editors were probably not too familiar with Illinois geography, as they flashed the front page story under, “Chicago: Witchcraft in the 19th Century.” Just a cursory review of the archives of Newspapers.com reveals no less than 16 major papers publishing some

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version of the article nationwide. The photograph shown here has been widely publicized and is usually associated with the Williams sisters. Unfortunately, this is not a picture of them, and there is no photo of them, as far as we have determined. Not only is there not a photo, but there is little proof that the witchy activities or even

the sisters themselves existed. In spite of some very diligent research by me, local historian, Lois Short, and a kind and efficient librarian, Kristina, from the Duquoin Public Library, every effort has come up empty. The 1870 census from Fitts Hill in Frankfort Township has no James Williams documented; nor is there a Williams Family there with girls anywhere near the age of the “little witches.” If there were graves in the cemetery at that location, they are long past being marked with anything legible. Most troubling of all to me is that nobody that I have talked to has ever heard this story, unless they have seen the same reference to it that I have on the Internet. A story this sensational has legs, and seems to move down by word of mouth from generation to generation. I kept expecting to talk to a West Frankfort senior citizen who would say, “Oh yes, I remember my dad telling me that his grandfather remembered that.” It never happened. So after much time spent, I am left with a story that is possibly nothing more than a story. Is it just an urban legend? But, there are all those newspaper reports available thanks to modern technology. And if we read it on the Internet, it must be true? (Ed. note: Thanks to Michael Kleen, author of Witch-

West Frankfort No. 30 Fall/Winter 2017 15

Homecoming on Turkey Day “We bought our own yellow, gold or white mum those years from a Sub Deb member to wear on our suits to the game. High school girls looked like they were going to professional business conventions, as skirts, jackets and even heels were the traditional dress of the day.”

By Gail Rissi Thomas

remember my brother playing starting center in the Turkey Day Game, and that game displacing Thanksgiving dinner and every other event of the holiday. My poor mother had to find the right wedge in the day to sandwich her bountiful dinner between homecoming events. I remember from the time I was still in grade school, watching my older sister get ready for the homecoming dance that night. I even remember the purple velvet and satin dress she wore. I remember that even as an underclassman, we were not left out. We had the fun of planning a skit for the variety show. We shared in the Chili supper, pep rally and bonfire. We joined hands and snake danced down the middle of Main Street,

often snaking into the front door of the Strand Theater, stringing across the front of the movie screen then down the aisle and out the main door again. For that night, the town was ours. Does anyone remember how the cafeteria cooks not only made the chili on Tuesday night, but held a huge bake sale where people from all over town came to buy their mouth-watering homemade breads, rolls, cookies and breakfast cakes?

And I remember the magic of the queen coronation. Some of us were in the court, some of us were on the team sitting smartly together as the coach inspired us and the alumni of a promised victory. Some of us played in the band; some of us sang in the Chordettes. But even for those of us who filled a seat as a spectator, it was EVERIN a night thick with tradition, mystery ARDEN ENTER, NC and anticipation as LANDSCAPING we awaited the anTREES • SHRUBS • EVERGREENS SHRUB TRIMMING • SPRAYING nouncement of who would be chosen 721 NORTH GARDNER STREET DALE & PEGGY SEVERIN as Homecoming WEST FRANKFORT, IL 62896 PHONE: (618) 932-3017 Queen.

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A picture from the 1967 Redbird Annual shows three coaches participating in the faculty skit.

And once every fourth year, the student body at FCHS was treated to the spectacle of a mock coronation. The faculty got into the spirit of the day by performing a skit for the students. The chosen male teachers—usually the coaches it seems—donned cheerleading outfits or short pants and childlike attire to play the part of crown bearers or football bearers and good naturedly provided hilarious antics while the students bellowed with laughter. My senior year, Mrs. Afton Wolfe was crowned homecoming queen. If you didn’t have a date for homecoming it

didn’t matter, you went to every event with your girlfriends. You bought your own yellow, gold or white mum those years from a Sub Deb member to wear on our suits to the game. High school girls looked like they were going to professional business conventions, as skirts, jackets and even heels were the traditional dress of the day. And if you did have a date, whether your date was cheering or playing on the field, riding around the track in a convertible or sitting by your side, it just didn’t get any better.

Lynda Martin, Jane Stalions and Rex Morris enjoy a bowl of chili in the picture from the 1964 Redbird Annual.

My husband, Michael, and I were married in 1972 and moved back to West Frankfort in 1975. Hired as FCHS band director, Homecoming was a shock to his system. “I could hardly believe that I had to work on Thanksgiving,” he recalls. “Most of the teachers were shutting down for the holiday weekend, and I was polishing up the coronation music or gearing up at least every other year to march in a parade the day before Thanksgiving and put on a halftime show for the big game with Benton. At the same time I was in awe of a school so steeped in tradition that the whole town was involved and people really came home for homecoming. It was so much more than what happened at my high school.” My class, the Class of ’67 celebrated our 50-year reunion last fall. It wasn’t held at Thanksgiving, but I remember vividly when the Class of 1917 filled the West side of Max Morris Gym that night of coronation my senior year. And I was thinking, “Now, we are them.” What wonderful memories of a wonderful tradition. What a wonderful small-town tableau to have as a part of our history.

“Down Memory Lane” was the theme of the 1964 Homecoming Coronation in which Susan Ahlm was chosen queen. Jim Burke and Jay Kaiser where her escorts. During the evening the Chordettes sang ‘Til There was You’ and ‘A Song in My Heart.’ Pam Wade played songs on her xylophone dedicated to the Class of 1939 who were celebrating their 25th class reunion. (photo 1964 Redbird Annual)

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One of the hazards of playing a football game late in November was the chance of snow. It didn’t happen very often, but in 1975, a snow of blizzard-like conditions hit West Frankfort during the afternoon of the Homecoming Parade. It did not deter the F.C.H.S. Band and other participants or the spectators who braved the elements to carry on the homecoming tradition. The next day, nearly 8 inches of snow covered Johnson Field and several men shoveled off the yard-line markers before the game to get the field ready for the football game.

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for 18 years, beginning in 1953. Plater also hosted “Its Fun to Draw,” a show for children on Saturday mornings, followed by “Ruffles the Clown,” another character played by Plater and sponsored by Chesty Potato Chips. Plater lived in Marion after he retired from television. Before he died in 2014, we had the privilege of talking with him about the phenomena of being a beloved character who did little but talk, drink milk, and talk about drinking milk in between the showing of a cartoon or a Three Stooges episode or two. “We started with the Cactus Pete show just showing cartoons,” Plater recalled. “Eventually we added things like Laurel and Hardy and westerns. Back in the 1950’s there was usually only one TV in the house, and only one station—ours—which they received clearly, so adults had to watch what the kids were watching. We realized that they were a part of our audience.” Although Cactus Pete, known by his big bushy beard, and flannel shirt, did nothing more than lean on a split rail fence and talk between features, he had all the mystique of a Wild Bill Hickok blended with the gentility of Mr. Rogers. His 18-year run was an amazing feat when compared to the shoot-em-up super heroes that entertain kids today.

By Gail Rissi Thomas

very Halloween for the past several years my son, Jay, dresses up as “Cactus Pete.” Jay has no idea who Cactus Pete was, other than a character with a beard, glasses a flannel shirt and suspenders who he becomes to celebrate Halloween. But for many others in Southern Illinois, Cactus Pete is synonymous with a time when television was in black and white and WSIL-TV in Harrisburg would broadcast locally produced shows starring such celebrities as Cactus Pete, Lucky Leroy and Uncle Briggs. The shows were shown during the hours between 3-5 p.m. when kids would be coming from school and were basically a way to raise

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revenue for the station. They consisted of cartoons and commercials for Dairy Brand Milk and other local products. Although these shows have long been replaced by the likes of Dr. Phil, Ellen and Harry Connick, Jr., their memory still lingers in the minds of an older generation who know exactly what you mean if you were to say “put on your cartoon eyes” or “Hello you Sugar Boogers, Lucky’s here!” In fact, just this summer, the Herrin Historical Society held a Cactus Pete Day at the Herrin Public Library. It was so well received many of the attendees lingered long after the presentation to reminisce about the show. Bill Plater, WSIL-TV’s station’s art director, played the bearded hillbilly character

West Frankfort No. 30 Fall/Winter

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Dressing up as Cactus Pete has become a Halloween tradition for Jay Thomas. (photo by Michael Thomas)

4 Pete was originally created and briefly played by station manager Jim Bolen. “I had never been on the air until I took over as Cactus Pete,” Plater admits. “They used to say that I only got the show because I was the only one in the station that could wear Jim Bolen's hat size.”

Dairy Brand Milk was the only sponsor for Cactus Pete, and basically, Dairy Brand Milk was the central focus of the show. Plater talked about drinking his milk, how good it was, and how he drank it out of a tin cup. Within three days after his first mention of the cup, they told us that you couldn't buy a tin cup within thirty miles. They capitalized on that by offering a deal. “Take two of these tabs off the top of your milk carton, boys and girls. Have Mom take them to the grocery store with a dime. Give them your name, and in three days you can go back and pick up your own tin cup with Cactus Pete's name engraved right here. Then you can drink your milk just like Cactus Pete `does.” By the way, if you still have your Cactus Pete cup, you might want to hold on to it. If not, you might get lucky enough to find one on E-bay for anywhere from $25 to $50 bucks.” Again, Plater reminds us, it was all live. “The camera light came on, and you stood

on your mark and started talking. There were no second chances,” Plater says. “Things happened. The camera just sat there; there was no reason for it to move. One night, the cameraman, Van Hoy, was in the darkroom developing film and the cable got tangled up somehow. The camera started moving to the right, so I had to keep moving to the right to stay on camera. I was half way across the station before he came out and caught it. That was just live TV.” Cactus Pete became such a local celebrity, that he began making personal appearances at Saturday matinees and special events. “Cactus Pete was kind of like Santa Claus,” he said. “Kids wanted to get up close to him and touch him. Luckily, I was always in costume, so when I went out any time I wasn't working, nobody recognized me. You know, I enjoyed it, but I never felt like a celebrity. It was just a job, like any other job. I'd sign on with, 'Well hello Buckaroos.' I'd sign off with, 'Well, so long.' That was real clever, wasn't it?” Clever or not, Bill, we loved it because, well, that was Cactus Pete. We wouldn’t want it any other way.

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www.shotsforpassion.com Massimiliano Ferrari

By Gary Marx

While Billy flailed, we shouted from the bank, urging him on as he worked his way toward us, breaking the ice ahead of him and wading through the muck and icy water. After reaching solid ground, we pulled him out of the marsh and he lay there like a beached whale, breathing heavily and shivering in the snow.

I was about 8 or 9 years old, which means Billy would have been 11 or 12. He wasn’t what we would have called a fat kid but he was big, so the ice offered no warning, no little “crick” or “crack,” before it gave way in a whoosh. And just like that Billy was up to his armpits in frigid water.

We got him up and we all walked him back home, about half a mile away. By the time we got him there, his pants were stiff and he could hardly walk. But he’d quit crying. Maybe he knew what waited for him when he got into the house. It wasn’t uncommon back then for a kid to get a spanking if he survived almost getting killed. Billy came from a household like that. Anyway, he was back in school on Monday, and the next weekend we all went back to running around as if nothing had happened.

hen Billy went through the ice, a cold shiver shot up my spine. I stood frozen on solid ground watching as first his mouth opened in a silent scream and then he started wailing and thrashing around.

Everyone who was near him at that moment scrambled and skidded to thicker ice, and we all knew right away that Billy was in serious trouble. He was in a panic, wailing and weeping and grasping for something to hold on to. He’d grab a brittle reed and it would break off in his hand. The cattails were a little stouter, but not stout enough. He tried to boost himself up and out of the water, but the ice broke off in sheets. There were about six of us with Billy that day, all neighborhood kids doing what we always did: exploring the world around us. It had gotten really cold the day before, and the frozen marsh proved irresistible.

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Thinking back on it, I realize that stepping out on that ice wasn’t the smartest thing we ever did as kids. It wasn’t the stupidest thing either. It’s a wonder we all survived. But kids just naturally seek adventure. There seems to be some imperative to test the limits of what’s possible. In my childhood, we would see who could climb highest in a tree, and we’d race our bicycles down dirt hills to see who could

West Frankfort No. 30 Fall/Winter

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endure the most spectacular crash. We would test thin ice. We’d jump from ledges just to see if we could do it without fracturing a bone. Of course, an unrealistic sense of invincibility propelled us forward. All the time, though, we had this feeling that we were in it together. We were all friends, and if any one of us got into trouble – with the ice or with our parents – we had each other’s backs. When one of us went through the ice, we all felt it. Sure, we would throw rocks at each other, but we also felt bad if we actually hit anyone. As Christmas nears I tend to become nostalgic, which is probably why I’m thinking of those days and those friends, of that kid who once was me. The world was full of wonder back then, and despite our neardeath experiences it was also a safer place to be. Sure, we had a missile crisis in those days, but today the fate of the world seems to rest in the hands of madmen. We would hear about murders and crime, but all of that seemed so distant. Nowadays we worry about our neighbors, especially that guy with the arsenal in his closet. What if he has a bad day at work? And the only climate change that concerned us was whether the game would be rained out, or if a sunny day

might make the ice too thin on the marsh. It’s a scarier world today. There’s no doubt about that. It was a lot easier to feel immortal back then. There are many reasons why some parents feel overprotective of their children these days, why they close their doors and throw the latches. They shut out the scary world and hunker down with those they know, with like kind. Take no risks. There are plenty of reasons why they fear the other. And yet, while this might make them feel safer today, in the long run it can’t be healthy – for them or their children. Fear is like mold. It breeds in the stale air of our enclosures. We need to get out into the world. We must interact with unfamiliar things, with the unknown. We should encourage our children to embrace wonder. More than 2,000 years ago, as the story goes, three wise men traveled far from their homes and shepherds came down from familiar hills. They were called to adventure by the same thing – a sense of curiosity – and they saw things no one had ever seen before. We want our children to be brave, to interact with those who are different, to face the world without fear. The only way to do that is to let them get out into the world, to see strange things and to try to understand. Only then will they be able to recognize real danger.

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And when one of them gets into trouble, we want them to reach out as we did with Billy and walk with him across the fields, as friends and brothers, through the cold and the tears, all the way back home.

Gary Marx has worked for newspapers in Southern Illinois, Indiana, and Kansas City, and he’s been laid off and fired from most of them. But he makes it a habit to read the paper every day. Except Mondays. His writing appears in this magazine and elsewhere, at www.marxjournal. com and on Facebook at Highway51Revisited

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West Frankfort No. 30 Fall/Winter 2017 21

Sometimes you only have a memory because you have something tangible not to ever let you forget it. Leon Rissi made it a practice in his photography business every year to send out a Christmas card to friends and customers with a picture of his children, Tim Rissi, Genelle Rissi Bedokis and Gail Rissi Thomas. This photo was taken in about 1956.

A Colorado Christmas Linda Jeffries

My husband, Richard, is from Denver and in December of 2006, we took our son Darrin and daughter Jill along with their spouses and children to Copper Mountain, Colorado. We rented a 5-bedroom condo for the 10 of us and stayed there from the 17th to the 26th so we spent our Christmas there. We had a fantastic time. I tried snow skiing. I thought it would be a lot like water skiing, which I am pretty good at, but I didnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t do too good but the kids and grandkids had a lot of fun with it. On Christmas Eve, we rented snowmobiles and rode them to the Continental Divide, which is 12,000 feet in elevation. It was breathtaking. But the highlight of the week

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was Christmas night when we took a sleigh ride pulled with horses to the foot of the mountain where they had set up an enormous tent. It was about a 10 minute trip and there were 3 or 4 other sleighs traveling with us. We sang carols and rang sleigh bells all the way there.

The Richard Jeffries clan pictured in a large tent at the base of Cooper Mountain, Colorado, on Christmas Eve, 2006. (photo provided)

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Inside the tent, it was warm enough that we could take off our jackets. There was a musician playing a guitar and he asked my grandson Tanner to sing a song. He did such a good job that several people gave him a standing ovation. They had a wonderful dinner prepared for us. It included corn chowder, which I had never tried before, but now I am a big fan. Afterwards, we watched several skiers going down the mountain carrying torches. It is something they do every year on Christmas night. It was beautiful to watch them gliding back and forth across the snow under a full moon on their way down the slope.

photo by Leon Rissi circa 1956

HolidayMemories

memory with me from the late 50’s or very early 60’s. Again, nothing. It wasn’t a real tree and was not something that continued for a lot of years. And, of course, there are no pictures of it that I am aware of. But my self-doubt vanished instantly and I was delighted when I talked to John Dimmick before this magazine came out and the subject of the tree came up. “You know what?” he said. “Brad Boyer and I were talking about that not too long ago. He knew a lot about it; I’ll call him and ask him what he has to say.”

At one time a “Flagpole Christmas Tree,” similar to this one in Harrisonburg, Virginia, sat at the top of Heights Hill in West Frankfort. (Source: History Images of Rockingham Co.)

The “Flagpole Christmas Tree” in The Middle of Route 149 Gail Rissi Thomas I can’t even remember how many years I have been chasing down a Christmas vision that lives in my mind, but apparently not anywhere else. It can lead a person to believe that it is not really a memory, but more of a figment of the imagination. Do you remember the big, and I mean think “big” Christmas tree that used to be at the top of Main Street in the Heights? It sat at the top of the hill, right where the pavement widens and swerves. It was constructed in the middle of Route 149, and cars would have to swerve to the right or left to drive around it. I can’t begin to know how many people I have asked about that over the years, but I seem to be the only one who ever saw it. Just as my family took many rides around town in the summer to get a Bowen’s ice cream cone, the weeks before Christmas always had my dad rounding us up to go out and look in people’s windows—only from our car of course—to see people’s Christmas trees. The climax of that ride was ending up at the Height’s tree, where we would drive around it a couple of times. We never got enough of it. As magnificent as it was, few details remain about it. I have asked older people, like Zella Spani, Ethridge Tharp, M. C. Odle, and Goebel Patton—all of whom are no longer here—to explore their memories about this tree, but none could recall anything specific. And I have asked people my age if they share this

My Grandpa Ray joked, “Jordan, if you drink this coffee and eat these olives it will put hair on your chest.” I didn’t want hair on my chest and I didn’t like olives and they had to put a lot of milk and sugar in the coffee for me to taste it. I was really too young to be drinking coffee but it made me feel like one of the adults. It got late, but nobody paid attention to the time and finally when we all got tired it was time to go home.

Grandpa Ray had a wood burner, and I remember the smell of the wood burning. He no longer has a wood burner but evTrue to his word, John called me back with ery time, to this day, if I smell that smell, Brad’s memories of he and his family years it takes me back to that evening of having ago, going up on winter evenings to see the family around and playing Jenga at the dintree in all it’s colorful glory. “Brad says ing room table. that it was not a real tree. He remembers it too as a frame work built into the shape of a triangle or tree shape, and the lights came down from the top in a vertical pattern, not necessarily wrapped around in spirals.” He is exactly right, and considering that there used to be a flagpole in the middle of the street years ago, that is perfectly logical. Brad also said that one year he remembers that all the lights were blue, and he thought that was really special.” And you know what? When I heard that, I could see it too. That’s the best thing about memories, if you can see it in your mind, you can keep Christmas Cookies it forever. Kitten Taylor

Playing Jenga, Cracking Walnuts and Eating Sweet Pickles Jordan Murphy When I was about 8 years old, I remember a Christmas Eve when we were at my Grandpa Ray’s house. All my relatives were there and it was special because I got to stay up late playing Jenga on the dining room table, drinking coffee, cracking walnuts, eating sweet pickles and hearing stories from the adults. Good Living in

I remember a Christmas a few years ago. It was actually a few days before Christmas and I was coming home from work. It was already dark when I got home and it was really cold when I got out of my car. I remember how tired I felt and how glad I was to finally be home and enjoy the evening. I opened the door to Christmas music and this wonderful smell that filled the air. I walked into the kitchen and there was this big guy smiling at me as he took a tray of cookies out of the oven. It was John Taylor. Here is this big football coach and here I had worked all day and he had spent the day cooking cookies. He enjoyed Christmas so much. He decorated the outside of the hosue. He just really loved Christmas, wrapping presents and everything. He would take his cookies to everybody and they thought I made them, but no, John made them.

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One More Year With Santa John Odle I was probably about 7 or 8 years old and I was beginning to wonder if Santa was real. I kept telling Mom and Dad that I had figured it out and that they were really Santa Claus. They never admitted it but I was almost certain that they were. On Christmas Eve, we all went over to my Uncle Arnold and Aunt Peg’s house. The adults stayed in the kitchen playing pinocle while my brother and I and some cousins were in my cousin’s bedroom just playing like kids do. But every few minutes, I would sneak back into the kitchen and check to see if my Mom and Dad were still there playing cards. They would see me, smile and just go back to their card game. It went that way the whole night until it was time for us to go back home. In this picture from 1960, Gayla (Rogers) Mondino sits with her mother, Marie Rogers, in front of the Christmas tree. Some of Gayla’s Madame Alexander dolls are visible beneath the tree. (photo provided)

My Madame Alexander Dolls Gayla Mondino Madame Alexander dolls are collectible dolls and they weren’t available in Southern Illinois, so if you wanted one you had to go to St Louis or Evansville to buy one. I think it was something my mother wanted for me have and I think they were like the American Girl dolls of today. This was a surprise Christmas present for me. It wasn’t something I had asked for or even knew about. I was in third grade and dad had just started back at the mines after being out of work. I was like an only child because my older brothers were already off and married. Usually all my Christmas presents were wrapped, but this Christmas morning my dolls were set up under the tree with a picnic table and tea cups all perfectly sized for my Madame Alexander dolls..

I figured I had them, but lo and behold, when we opened the front door, Santa had been there! The room was full of presents. The lights were on the Christmas tree along with the icicles (tinsel). With all those Christmas lights bouncing off the icicles, sparkling light just filled the room. It was a magical sight and that night I couldn’t sleep thinking about how Santa had come into my house while we were away and had brought all those presents. It gave me at least another year to believe in Santa. We never had a lot growing up, but my Mom and Dad always made sure Christmas was special. I later found out that one of my other relatives had come to the house while we were over at Uncle Arnold’s and had set it all up. Looking back, I see now that my parents cared about me and wanted to give me some good childhood memories, which they certainly did.

The Little Cane Rocking Chair Regina Sanders

The babies had a white one-piece pajamas with pink bunny-rabbit ears on a hood. The mother doll had a golden yellow dress with a blue blouse. I remember Penny Tippy had a collection of Madam Aexander dolls from different countries. One dressed like a Chinese lady another like a French woman, and I was so jealous because she had so many and I only had the ones I got for Christmas. I never got another Madame Alexander doll after that. I don’t know why, I just never did. My dog, Vicki, a Pekingnese, used to sit with me and ‘drink tea’ with me and the dolls. And my girlfriends, Marilou and Janice, would come over and play with me. I played with them until I was in the 5th and 6th grade year. Sadly, after my mom died, my dolls went missing.

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bottom wore out.

When I was a very little girl; it must have been 1941. I received as a Christmas gift a little rocking chair with a cane bottom. It cost $2; my dad was working for the WPA at that time. I loved that chair. I loved rocking in it, and I had it for a long time. Eventually the cane

When my dad passed away, we found the chair in one of his barns. He had painted it red and replaced the bottom by weaving a seat out of rope. I took the chair home and it has been in my living room ever since. Every one my kids and all of the grandkids have sat in it, and loved it just as I did.

Ever Wonder What It Is Like Growing Up In a Big Family?

By Michael A. Thomas

urely everyone by now has heard about the Dugggers. You know, that family on TV with the 19 kids—or is it 20 now? I lost count; I think maybe they did too. They became famous telling the world how to manage and raise that many kids to be healthy, happy and successful, well, except for a misstep or two along the way. It’s interesting, but we have families right here in West Frankfort who have raised seven, eight, or even ten kids—all healthy, happy and successful—without a word of praise, let alone a TV show, for their display of parenthood. Heck I came from one of those kinds of families myself. We weren’t from West Frankfort, but I know what a mixture of love and crazy chaos there can be with six brothers and a sister all growing up in the same home. I decided we should bring a moment of fame to two other large families with whom I have become acquainted: The Clarks and the Cunninghams. Of course there are other big families in West Frankfort. Immediately coming to mind are the Conaughtys with ten children, and the Glodich Family with their famous “five sons and two princesses.” It seems there was always a Cunningham or two in my band program. And that was a good thing. I knew when those kids came into the program they would all be good musicians. I wasn’t as well acquainted with the Clark kids, although oldest daugh-

ter Ashley was a valuable member of the Flag Corps and marched with band. But I noticed Clark kids through the years too, and like the Cunninghams, they were always great kids and well liked by their teachers and peers alike.

The Clarks

Browning and Kim Clark have seven kids: Ashley, 33; Zachary, 31; Carrie, 30; Hannah, 28; Emily, 24; Callie, 22; and Harrison, 20. Browning is a top notch mechanic and, with the help of Kim, runs a successful auto repair business on County Line Road. “We were married for seven years before we had kids,” Browning said. “In fact, I didn’t even want any kids at first. But scripture teaches that children are a blessing from God and God has certainly blessed us through our children.” In fact, Kim and Browning both relate how in tough financial times, their unwavering faith in God never failed them and how their big family was blessed in mysterious ways. “The younger kids always had hand-medown clothes, but the oldest didn’t, of course,” said Kim. “I remember when Zachary was about 2 years old and he needed some bigger clothes. My mom and I went all day trying to find him something. We went from place to place, but everywhere we went all the clothes for him had sports team logos or something printed on them. It was hard to find just a plain shirt and we came home empty-handed. But we Good Living in

found sacks on our doorsteps and when we opened them up we found all boy’s clothes, and just the kind that we had been shopping for and they fit him. We never did find out who did that.” “I remember one Christmas,” Browning said with a smile, “money was really tight and, you know, the kids are expecting gifts. One day, we found black plastic bags in the back of my truck and inside were toys for the kids and a VCR. And sometimes at church, I would leave my coat on the coat rack and find someone had put a $20 bill in the pocket. That happened more than once.” And those $20 bills came in handy, especially when it came to feeding a lot of hungry mouths. “We would go to McCord’s with a calculator and start to fill our cart, if you put something in and went over, you just put it back,” Browning said. “You just buy things that will stretch — beans, hamburger, spaghetti — but I don’t make casseroles because Browning hates them,” said Kim with a laugh.”Luckily Kim’s a great cook and that’s good ‘cuz I am a picky eater,” Browning admitted. “And I remember another time when I was almost out the door to go to the grocery store,” Kim said, “and the phone rang. I almost didn’t go back to answer it, but I did. Long story short, when I got to the store a woman came up to me and gave me 4 or 5 bags of groceries. If I had not stopped to answer that phone call, I probably would have not gotten that food.”

West Frankfort No. 30 Fall/Winter 2017 25

Having a large brood and a limited vacation budget meant that trips were planned to places close at home. “We might rent a cabin for 2 or 3 days on the Current River or have ‘staycations’ in the summer where we would take a day off and go to the St. Louis Zoo or Grant’s Farm,” said Browning. “And we have a long standing tradition of going to Holiday World, that’s one of our favorite places.” When asked what it was like to have so many kids, Kim said in some ways, more kids were easier than a few. “You learn on the first and having two is the hardest, but once you get past two, it gets easier. The older kids help with the youner ones, and the kids all had chores. I let them choose what they liked to do. Hannah liked to vacuum, Carrie didn’t like vacuuming, but she liked doing laundry. Zachary took care of the trash and yard, the others would set the table, help get the food ready at dinner time and Emily liked cleaning up afterwards.” With nine kids, three bedrooms and only one bathroom, life in the Clark household took team work with an all-hands-on deck approach. “We always had a sit-down meal and everybody had to be there,” said Browning. “On school days I would make breakfast and Kim would get their lunch and help them get ready for school.”

In the summer the Clark’s supplemented their food budget with a garden. “We grew spinach, lettuce, Swiss chard, strawberries, beets, sweet corn, watermelons and canteloupes,” Kim rattled off. “And all the kids were involved; they really liked to help in the garden.” Nine place settings around a big kitchen table has now grown to 24 when all spouses and grandchildren are at the house. “We have a big farm table, a kids table and a snack bar,” Browning said. Birthdays meant each child got to choose the menu for the evening meal and what type of birthday cake would be eaten. And Christmas was something that took yearlong planning. “Our kids would make a list of what presents they wanted and we would always make sure they got at least one or two of those,” Browning said. “But the best part of Christmas morning were their stockings. Kim would personalize each one, a beauty kit for one of the girls or a maybe knife for one of the boys. She would listen during the year to the little things they said they wanted and she would go and buy them. By Christmas morning they had completely forgotten they had said anything about them and when they would open them they would say, “How did you know I wanted that!” We open gifts one by one, so we always got to see those re-

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actions.” “One of our favorite Christmas traditions is when we put out the nativity scene. It is one that Kim’s father actually built and her mom hand-painted all the figures. We would gather all the kids around, and they would take one of the figures. As we read the story from the Bible, they would place their figures in the scene at the appropriate time. But as they got older, I remember a few arguments over who got to place the baby Jesus or Mary.” But arguments were few and far between the siblings, both parents said. “They love each other and take up for each other. There is accountability between them.” And asked if it was difficult trying to make each child out of seven feel special, Browning remarked that Kim spoiled them all as if each one were her only child. “To be a favorite kid you had to be sick or needy,” Kim said. “Then you were my favorite or unless they did me a favor like giving me a candy bar,” she said jokingly, “then, O.K., you can be my favorite child now.” My own father used to say, “There ae always the same things going on as before, just different people doing them.” And while Browning and Kim Clark were busy making ends meet, raising good citizens and transitioning young children into responsible citizens, Ted and Linda Cunningham were doing the same with their seven children. The Cunninghams Ted, a retired minister and Linda, currently employed by the local school district, have four sons and three daughters: Mark, 33; Elizabeth, 31; Daniel, 30; Benjamin, 24; Rebecca, 22; Hanna, 19; and Andrew, 16. The Cunninghams also were frugal when it came for ways to make a dollar last. “We would always shop sales,” said Linda. “I never couponed much and I don’t know how to cook for four.” Any leftovers were never wasted and went back into the fridge for the rest of the week. “The kids were on their own for breakfast and if we went somewhere to eat out it would be where ever the specials were that night. On their

parents. “Once we got more kids, we didn’t stay as long,” Linda joked.

Photo provided

“But there is one thing that all the kids remember about those trips,” said Ted. “The Hot Dog Shoppe. Every time we went to see my folks we had to get a chilli dog there. They’re the best chilli dogs you ever tasted.”

The extended Cunningham clan, on a recent New Years Day, celebrate a second Christmas. Each year the siblings try to return to West Frankfort to be with their Mom and Dad around the Holidays.

birthdays they got to choose whatever meal and dessert they wanted and it seemed like their favorite birthday dinner meal was chicken casserole, they all wanted that.” To supplement the household income, Linda worked from home, sewing for Arnett’s Country Store and sometimes got help from her children who would assist her with cutting or stuffing. The kids also helped out with chores. “We had a chart on the wall with names and chores,” Linda said. “There were things like unloading the dishwasher, picking up toys, setting the table for dinner or clearing the table after dinner. It rotated so that everybody got every one of the jobs on the chart but don’t ever ask a child to do a job when it wasn’t their job to do it. You would get ‘that’s not my job today’.” Linda also gave the boys haircuts with electric clippers. “It was basically a buzz cut,” Linda said. “It worked pretty well but I remember one day Mark came home from school kinda upset. I think he was in high school at the time. He hadn’t told any of his friends that I cut his hair, but one of his friends must have figured it out because he told Mark, you’re gonna have to stop letting your mom cut your hair. After that he wouldn’t let me cut his hair, but when he went to a barber and paid for a couple of haircuts himself, he came back to me.” Both Linda and Ted grew up in West Virginia, Ted in the northern part and Linda in the southern part. Each summer they would load up their kids and head for a vacation back at their childhood homes, spending a week with each set of grand-

The trip from West Frankfort to West Virginia would take nearly 12 hours. “When we got older, Daniel and I drove it in 8 1/2 hours,” said oldest son Mark. “We couldn’t beleive we could get there that quick, so we must have stopped a lot when we were kids.” And to amuse themselves, the kids came up with a game called Basketball Stuck In The Mud. “I don’t know how it got started,” explained Mark, “but one of us would stick our head next to the car door and say it was stuck, and the other two in the seat would pull and try to get him ‘unstuck’ and then it would switch to the other side. It was one of those silly things kids do.” Back home in West Frankfort, the kids had an above ground pool that kept them occupied in the summer.

class from coffee filters and a toilet paper roll.The kids helped decorate the show tree, but after they went to bed I rearranged it because all the ornaments would be at the bottom of the tree,” Linda said. “We opened up presents from grandparents on Christmas Eve and waited until Christmas morning for the rest. Cinnamon rolls for breakfast and stockings stuffed with candy were ‘must have’ traditions.” “Linda made stockings with their names on them, and they lined the mantle at Christmas,” said Ted. “The kids would get into those stockings and then begin swapping candy with each other.” Instead of turkey or ham, Christmas dinner would consist of stuffed manicotti shells, mozzarella cheese sticks and Texas garlic toast. “In fact, it is the same Christmas dinner that Elizabeth fixes for her family on Christmas now,” said Ted. But the Christmas of 2008 will go down in infamy at the Cunningham house, for that is the year that they all came down with the stomach flu. “I don’t remember who got sick first,” said Ted. “But one by one, we all got it and we were all sick on Christmas Day. The kids jokingly call that the year of Barfmas.” “Yes, and I was sick again the following Christmas, so two Christmases in a row being sick on Christmas day,” said Mark. “That really sucked.” Being a pastor, Ted had the unique priviledge of marrying three of his children: Elizabeth, Daniel and Rebecca. “Elizabeth was the first one I married,” Ted said. Naturally, it was a very emotional moment for him. “I held it together pretty good until the end, when I got choked up.”

Christmas tradition at the Cunningham house meant having two trees. “We had what I called ‘the kids tree’ and then a ‘show tree’. The kids tree had a lot of ornaments that the kids made in school over the years and a tree topper (see above) that Ben made in Debbie Ricci’s 4th grade Good Living in

Now that the family has grown up and gone in their own directions, family visits are few and far between. “They all try to get here together twice a year, especially between Christmas and New Years,” said Linda. “This house is big until they all get here.”

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