Share Your Family Memories Here!
Do you have a favorite memory of a family event? Do you recall stories that were passed on to you from your parents, or grand-parents? What special memories (events, sounds, scents) do you have about family members or family events?
Please share your memories here. We are interested in your stories about Kathleen and Chester Carson, but we'd also like to hear other family stories.
Please note that my policy on this site is to identify living family members by first name only. Keep this in mind as you record your stories. If there might be confusion, try to clarify with some descriptive term or phrase, such as "Debbie's brother, Jimmy".
To contribute, simply click on the link "Post a comment" below.
Please share your memories here. We are interested in your stories about Kathleen and Chester Carson, but we'd also like to hear other family stories.
Please note that my policy on this site is to identify living family members by first name only. Keep this in mind as you record your stories. If there might be confusion, try to clarify with some descriptive term or phrase, such as "Debbie's brother, Jimmy".
To contribute, simply click on the link "Post a comment" below.
posted by Steve | 2:00 PM
18 Comments:
This page came about after Patti wrote to tell me that she had been exchanging e-mail with memories of Granddad and Grandma with Bernie and Janis (Chester and Kathleen that is - Mom and Dad to some of you, Great-Granddad and Great-Grandma to others, and so on).
She said that she would like to share them on the Carson Archives web-site, but was not sure where to put them. She wanted to ensure that others could find them easily. She also wanted to encourage others to share additional stories. So, together, we came up with this web-page. Hopefully, it will work. If not, then I'll go back to the drawing board.
In the meantime, I'll share a memory of mine to kick things off.
I recall that each time we left their house, Grandma would stand on that small landing they had for a back porch (by the driveway) and call out “See you later, alligator!” We would often call back, “After while crocodile!” As we got into the car, she would call out a final reminder to “Lock your doors!”
My absolute fondest of memories are a little kid at Grandma's house in Brentwood; kick ball in the front yard, hide & seek; my favorite place to hide was under the front porch; Grandpa Carson's grapevine was like another world; the 7 & 8 deck canasta card games were the best. Grandma bouncing around and swaying back and forth with her hands clasped under her gentle face; the way she did with that beautiful smile on her face. What a thrill it was to come up the back stairs and into the kitchen. Grandma was always there to present a special greeting upon us like it made her day that we had arrived. Wow, every last one of us is so lucky to have had a Grandmother like that.
I really get sentimental when I think of Grandma’s house. One of my fondest memories is how special she made us all feel by always having our favorite treats when she knew we would be coming. Mine was cookies and dill pickles and I could count on my cookies being in that large cupboard in the kitchen and my pickles downstairs in the extra refrigerator. If by chance she didn’t have our items, it was pile into the car and drive down to that little store just a few blocks away.
I also remember Grandma expressing that famous good-bye...often she would add lastly "Be Careful".
Some of my favorite memories as a child was going to Point Lookout , which is down the Bay about 20 miles from where I live (early 60's I'm guessing). Aunt Kit had a cottage just up the street from the Point at that time. Dad, Grandma/Grandpa, and various uncles and Aunts from time to time, would be on the Bay side of the Point fishing. I would be on the other side of the road which separated the Bay from the Potomac River. There was an inlet there. All the young cousins and I would be in charge of catching the crabs, which were huge in that day and plentiful. We would have chicken necks tied to a long string, we would pitch the necks out into the water and not have to wait long before one, and many times two 8 to 10 inch point-to-point crabs would be on the line. We would all so carefully pull the lines till the crabs where within wadding distance, we would scoop them up with our crab nets and within an hour, we would have a bushel of real extra large crabs. These would either be cooked in a big pot on the spot and then taken up to the cottage or taken to the cottage and cooked. The Bay back then was teaming with fish and crabs of extraordinary size. There would always be a big card game going
with the adults, beer drinking and laughter.
Bernie thanks so much for writing about your crabbing days. Many of details I've forgotten and you've filled in the gaps. I can't remember which cousins were with us, but Grandma would take several of us at a time and I remember walking down a long road with roosters chasing and picking at us. Grandma would shout and throw rocks at them protecting us, making us laugh hysterically. I do remember the card games at Aunt Kit's cottage when several of our Aunts & Uncles were present, including your parents. The cottage is the first place I remember having tomatoes & eggs for breakfast which is something I love to this day. Point Lookout is where I learned to ski for the first time on Kit's boat.
I learned to ski behind Aunt Kit's Boat too and I remember the Tomato and eggs breakfast, but not until you just mentioned it. You and I were at Kit's cottage at the same time several times as I recall. There were so many of us cousins running around at any give time, it was hard to keep track.
Remember Grandpa's Pear Tree? I got sick more than once eating too many of those, but they were sooo good...
I am sure I told cousin Steve how great I think his web site is but he probably doesn't really understand how grateful I really am to be able to be reminded of just what a relatively wonderful childhood I had. I long for the closeness shared at Grandma's House when we were kids, the weekends at Kit's Cottage, my childhood in general actually, and that's a good thing. There are so many people in this world that aren't nearly as
Another millstone I forgot - The Pear Tree. Wasn't it right outside the bathroom window? I remember checking and checking to see if there were any ready and begging Grandma to let me have one. I think she bought some from the store and just let me think they were from "the tree" when there weren't any ready.
Yes, the Pear Tree was outside of the bathroom window; which brings me to another very cool thing about Grandma’s house - the bathtub. As a kid, I could get lost in that tub. It was huge compared to today’s tubs. Another cool thing was the fact that train tracks rain behind the house across the street. Staying over at Grandma’s house was always a treat cause I knew come bedtime; the sounds of train wheels and whistles and lets not forget the firehouse around the corner. For a kid that grew up in a relative country setting, these were exciting sounds indeed.
Thanks, Patti and Bernie for sharing a few of your memories.
The discussion about Point Lookout reminded me of fishing with Granddad one day. Do you remember that he always carried a pocket knife, and would use it for just about any task that needed a pointed or sharp edge?
Well, he took us fishing in one of those rented row-boats on the bay side of Point Lookout. We typically caught spot by the two's, and sometimes a blow-fish here and there.
Anyway, he pulled that pocket knife out and cut up the bloodworms that we had for bait. After putting a chunk of bloodworm on the hooks and throwing the lines in, he wiped the knife on his pant-leg, pulled an apple out of a paper bag, and started cutting slices off the apple.
When he held a slice out for me, I told him that I wasn't hungry. But in reality, I just couldn't eat that apple, knowing where his knife had been.
Well, I don’t have the event associated memories of Grandma Kathleen like the three of you have. What I have are memories of fragmented moments, impressions and feelings. When I read “…swaying back and forth with her hands clasped under her gentle face; the way she did with that beautiful smile….” from Bernie Jr.’s post, I can see her doing that in my memory. And, while I was only at her house a once or twice, I also had a flash of memory after reading “Grandma would stand on that small landing they had for a back porch” from Steve’s stories.
I do remember feeling special in her presents like in Patti’s comments and I remember the excitement of the long trip from Florida to Maryland to see them. I remember playing on the stairs at her house (coming from single floor homes in Florida, I had never seen so many in one place!)
I have a memory of her laughing in Grandma Bernice’s kitchen.
Pink flowers make me think of her sometimes.
I’m really looking forward to reading more of your stories to see if I have any other hidden images.
I recall that when you went into Grandma and Grandad's Brentwood home from the driveway, you would enter into the long-narrow room. I don't have a clear memory of everything that was kept out there, but I always had the impression that this part of the house was built on as an addition. I'm fairly certain the refrigerator was out here, as well as an ironing board and iron.
I distinctly remember a round washing machine with ringers on top, where grandma would pull the partially-wet clothes from the drum, and wring them out before carrying them outside to put on the clothes line.
I found a web-site that shows a photo of how I remember that washing machine. You can see it here:
http://www.oldewash.com/db_images/IMAGES/761.jpg
Does anyone else remember this?
I remember that machine Steve and I also remember that big ironing machine in the basement. I would go down there with her while she was ironing sheets and pillow cases, and to keep me away from the heat, she would give me ice cream and other goodies from the freezer, also in the basement.
That basement was an exciting wonderland to explore along with the attic which held awesome mysteries.
Steve - even though I'm not a direct family member, your Aunt Kit asked me to share with you and other family members some of the events that took place at Point Lookout, where Aunt Kit and I had the summer cottage. We spent summer after summer there, had our boat there, and your Grandpa Carson always brought his boat down for the summer, even though it rarely ran. One morning he hollered into the cottage and told Grandma Carson to send me out, that he needed help with his boat. When I got outside, he turned to me and said, here hold this engine while I fix it. I knew that I couldn't possibly hold it, and if I could it would be a long hold because there was no way he could fix that engine. He wanted to go fishing that morning, out on the point where the Potomac River and the Chesapeake Bay meet. So I agreed to take him in our boat instead of holding his engine. We went thru that shallow inlet where invariably you had to push the boat over the sandbar to get out into open waters. You can guess who jumped overboard and did the pushing. Then we got out into the open windy waters and Grandpa insisted that we anchor - front and back. That boat swayed frantically for hours because he would not let me come back in until he had caught some fish. I was sunburned, seasick, tired and wishing I had just held the engine for him. Grandpa would catch blow fish and we would bounce them on the bottom of the boat. Then he would tell us to skin them with a pair of pliers so he could cook them when we got to back to the cottage. He loved the water and loved to fish. He cooked and ate everything he caught and some things were really gross. One story we still laugh about is the weekend when you and Joey and Richard came down to Point Lookout with us. We decided to ski in the inlet. I drove the boat, you rode lookout on the boat, and Joey was skiing. Joey fell on his skis and began screaming frantically. I thought he was drowning so I told you to grab the steering wheel and turn the key off as I was going overboard for Joey. I dove overboard into about one foot of water and probably two feet of mud to save Joey's life, only to find him standing on the bottom screaming. You were too young to understand how to turn off the motor, but you somehow put the boat into reverse. The boat was coming back toward Joey and me and I was screaming "cut the engine." Needless to say, we all survived but I wanted to drown Joey after that. We had a lot of fun at that summer cottage and I think all your family remember those good times. I do and I remember many fun times with all you grand kids. Nancy
The place at Grandma's house that holds many special memories for me was the attic. I'll never forget my excitment the day Patti & finally figured a way to open that attic door and climb up to a wonderland of adventures. We found old fancy dresses and even a wedding dress that we pretended over and over was our future wedding. Several times, we even climbed out that little window and sat on the roof until Granddaddy caught us one time and threatened our lives if we ever did it again. Of course we said it was our first time and would never do it again.
My story is includes my Aunt Jeanie and my cousin Larry-Jo.
For me weekends have always been for small projects: be them art projects, around the house projects or school projects. When I lived in Florida, I also used my weekends to go to yard sales with Aunt Jeanie. Sometimes whatever small project I, or she, was working on would take us to the craft store or on a hunt for a specific item I needed to finish my project. Sometimes Larry-Jo would come along too.
One particular Saturday, I decided to paint a background on a canvas and paste seashells and sand to the canvas, making it a three dimensional piece of art. I had everything I needed to get the project started except for sand. I called Aunt Jeanie to see if she was up for quick trip to the beach to collect some sand. She said she would love to go, but it had to be a quick one because she had plans for the day. Larry-Jo decided to go along too. I jumped in the car, swung by to pick them up and off to the beach we went having no idea what we were actually in for…
The trip to the beach was uneventful. We pulled into a parking spot and Larry-Jo jumped out to make quick work of filling up my bucket with sand. Within minutes we were head back to the house. Just as we turn the corner to cross back over the Inter costal bridge at Hillsboro it went up to allow boat traffic through. Aunt Jeanie said she didn’t have time to wait for it, “Let go to the Pompano cross over!” “Great idea!” I said. When we got to the Pompano Bridge it was up as well. The problem was that it was going to be up for a while; there was some type of event going on. We tried to get angry at our predicament, but it was our own fault for being impatient, so we did the only thing we could which was chuckle and turn back to Hillsboro.
Unbeknownst to us, whatever event was going on in Pompano had been making its way up to Hillsboro as we were making our way to Pompano and it got to Hillsboro before we could make our escape. We were convincing ourselves that the Inter costal was never going to let us go and started making up newspaper head lines like “FAMILY MEMEBERS LOST TO QUICKSAND TRIP”…surviving family members are quoted as saying, “They went for a pack of sand and never came back”
Needless to say, we made it home. Our stomachs ached and our faces were tear streaked from fits of laughter and we three swore off the beach for the rest of our lives…well, at least until then next project or for a few weeks whichever came first!
Since Thanksgiving is pressing down on us, I thought I’d share a favorite Thanksgiving memory.
I remember lots of Thanksgiving’s at Grandma Bernice’s in Florida as a child. It was always a huge gathering with so much family coming and going and so many special treats to eat – I really don’t know how she managed it. From my child’s eye, it was a time to run, play, sneak food and meet/re-meet cousins, uncles and aunts that I rarely every saw at Grandma’s house. I looked forward to it with great anticipation. Later, when I returned as an adult, the Thanksgiving dinner gave way to Thanksgiving breakfast. This was to accommodate all the new families that wanted to have their own dinners, but it was still a flurry of excited activity.
It’s between childhood and adulthood that I find a favorite Thanksgiving memory.
We moved away from Grandma in my preteen years, and while initially our immediate family was always present for the traditional dinner, it was never quite competed with the same as the excited chaos of Grandma’s house until one unique year.
My parents had recently separated and my older sister had gotten married and moved away. Unbeknownst to my ultra-perceptive teenage senses, my mother was going through a very tough time in her life and the holidays were coming up. Her family had been reduced to one teenage girl who knew everything and listened to nobody – me, one hostile boy who blamed her for his father’s departure - Michael, and Heather – she hadn’t figured out what problems she was going to cause yet. I imagine a traditional T-day dinner was the last thing she wanted to do. So, . . . .
On Thanksgiving Day she packed up her family and took us to the mall where we proceeded to have my most cherished Thanksgiving memory. We had dinner, went to the movies, walked around an empty mall and crammed ourselves into a photo booth for a family picture (I still have those pictures in a memory album). Everything we did that day had the feel that it was all there for our exclusive use. The restaurant was nearly empty, leaving the staff free to cater to us. The movie theater was nearly empty, which left us with an overwhelming pick of the best seats. My brother and I jumped from seat to seat without the socially required admonishment from the mom. We were also allowed to run through and empty mall without any protest from mom. Michael and I found nothing to fight or argue about and everything to talk about. We were even willing to include our little sister in our antics and she was more than happy to finally be included.
It was a day that the four of us, without planning to, stepped out of our roles as guardian, rebellion, victim and wonderer. What we saw in each other was a glimpse of our future family relationships of confidante, friend, equal….Oh yeah!, and painting buddy.
It was THE greatest day! Thanks Mom.
Excuse that confusing sentence. It should have read . ..
We moved away from Grandma in my preteen years, and while initially our immediate family was always present for the traditional dinner, it never quite competed with the memories of the excited chaos of Grandma’s house until one unique year.
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