On the Moraine, Part III

By Jim Thompson
HCP columnist

I must admit, I don’t remember anything about buying the McNary Farm on McNary Road in Paint Township. I was in the first grade. 

I do, however, remember our first night staying there. On a cold January Saturday in 1957, it seemed like Dad decided, all of a sudden, that we should go there and spend the night. He hooked our little trailer up to our 1950 Chevrolet, then went to a used furniture store in Troy to purchase a little wood/coal heater and some stove pipe.  

Meantime, Mother gathered up some food, clothes and blankets. When Dad got back, we went out on the railroad tracks next to the house to find some lumps of coal.  

It hadn’t been that long ago when the New York Central was running steam engines and some coal would fall off the tenders as they roared through town. Hence, we could pick it up. Theft, I guess. 

So, about dark, our little family – Dad, Mother, my baby brother (he was just 2) and I headed for Highland County. I certainly fell asleep on the way. Our destination was the old tenant house on McNary Road, right where Martin’s woodshop sits now. I remember there was a snow of five or six inches on the ground when we got there.  

Dad set the stove up in the living room, and we put our blankets and so forth on the floor around the stove. There was no electricity, well, or even an outhouse. During the night, the warmth in the living room had apparently stirred up the rats in the attic and you could hear them scurrying about over our heads. I remember Mother taking me outside to urinate in the snow; I didn’t pay any attention to what the rest of the family did for these matters. My brother would have been in diapers – the cloth kind.

Sunday morning, it was bright and sunny. I think Mother made oatmeal for breakfast. After breakfast, Dad and I took a walk across the road to the main part of the farm and climbed the big tree-covered hill. We found a bird nest. I saw the hulls on hickory nuts for the first time. For my short legs, it was quite a walk, especially in the snow. 

In those days, there were three ponds on the farm. One was up next to the woods. One was at the intersection of the lane and the road, and the other was near the surveyor’s stone I mentioned earlier. Dad and I checked those out on the way back to the house. In those days, and up until just recently, McNary Road was gravel.

For lunch, we had bouillon cube soup and Vienna sausage. I still like Vienna sausage and always have some around the house to this day. I think Mother and Dad had instant coffee. We probably had some milk along, too. In the winter weather, it could be kept outdoors.

All food “cooking” was on the little heater we had brought with us. There was no other furniture, so we either stood or sat on the floor.

I took a couple of partially peeled hickory nuts and the bird nest back to Troy for “show and tell” in my first grade class Monday morning.

Thus was our first weekend in Highland County.

Jim Thompson, formerly of Marshall, is a graduate of Hillsboro High School and the University of Cincinnati. He resides in Duluth, Ga. and is a columnist for The Highland County Press. He can be reached at jthompson@taii.com.