Book of Lou

By Louella Whidden Hollingsworth

"I had the open woods to play in and the orange grove to pretend anything my mind would wish to entertain. I truly had freedom to explore. I mostly followed my big sisters around until they started dating and had a life that didn't include me. Then I followed my brother (just 18 months older) and his friends around, but that always ended badly, they were pretty mean. I was mostly on my own after the age of eight."

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Dec 12, 2014
• ISBN: 9781499083705

Louella Whidden Hollingsworth

Louella Whidden Hollingsworth grew up near Arcadia, Florida, where she explored the woods and used her imagination. Her first book is based on her grandson’s touching reaction to the tragic loss of Louella’s youngest daughter.

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

Early Years

I grew up in an orange grove barn with a trail into the palmettos which led to the outdoor toilet. A hand pumped water well, located beside the back of the house, with a bucket to carry water inside and of course, no electricity. Over the years it was floored, screened and had a front screened in porch. But, the tin roof and the open ceiling beams remained. My brothers, one older one younger and I had good times walking atop those beams when we were young, never was told we could fall and hurt ourselves, and never did. We wore a trail down to a little creek that widened into a pretty good swimming hole from lots of use. My older brothers and neighbor boys dug it out with shovels once they saw the potential it had and being close to everybody’s house. Then nature took care of the rest. I had the open woods to play in, and the orange grove to pretend anything my mind would wish to entertain. I truly had freedom to explore. I mostly followed my big sisters around until they started dating and had a life that didn’t include me. Then I followed my brother (just 18 months older) and his friends around, but that always ended badly. They would be mean to me on purpose, so I would quit following them. They never harmed me physically, just made me feel bad and unwanted. I was mostly on my own after the age of ten.

My grandma Whidden lived within walking distance, so I visited her a lot, followed her around like a shadow. Hungry for stories, hungry for her attention. I was happiest when she would sit down and talk about the past and laugh about the future. She laughed the hardest when she would say; In the future, you won’t even have to cook, when you’re hungry, all you’ll have to do is take a pill. She really saw the future as a time when there would be a pill for everything a body would need. The more she talked about it, the more scenarios she would come up with that were funny to her. I loved watching her relax and laugh. It didn’t matter what the subject was, I laughed with her because she was enjoying herself.

My grandpa died of cancer when I was 4, so my grandma was widowed sometime in her 60’s. By then Grandpa had bought ten acres for their new house which was build by a contractor with proper windows and doors. Electricity wasn’t yet available to that part of the County. Every one was used to pitcher pumps in the kitchen with a sink and an outdoor johnny.

Grandma continued on every day just as she had before grandpa died. She washed and starched her cotton dresses, pillow cases, table cloths, all linens except bed sheets. Without electricity, her irons were heated on the stove. She did have a gas range and an ice box. The ice box required a block of ice in the top section which cooled the bottom section. She got up every morning, milked her cow, cooked breakfast, and went about her chores in the same manner she had all her married life. When she made butter, it was an excuse to sit in a rocker on her front porch and watch neighbors walk or ride by. I enjoyed arriving at her house in the afternoon and finding her rocking and gently moving the milk and cream around in a large glass jar. I would see small clumps of golden butter floating about in the mixture. Yum, I always knew there would be cold biscuits in a tin covered bowl and butter on her kitchen table, free for the taking. I always took one! To my taste buds, it was cake. If she was making cottage cheese, I skipped the biscuit and helped myself to a bowl of curds with sugar on top. Grandma called that clabber.

She boiled her laundry in a large, cast iron caldron over an open fire, with lye soap she made herself. A large wooden paddle, shaped like an oar, was used to stir and remove items into the first 10 gallon galvanized wash tub which she used for scrubbing each item with a washboard, then a final rinse in the second one.

She was a strong healthy woman, had worked hard her entire life. Gave birth to nine children, raised them in a cracker house and never failed to keep her family clean, clothed and fed. She was the strongest woman I ever knew in my life, and I loved her dearly.

By the time I was sixteen, we actually had floors, electricity and a phone. No windows though, but metal meshed screens covered the two foot gap on the east wall that had never been completed, like a long narrow window without glass. The roof overhang shaded it mid-day. We had a screened in porch with a screened door that could be latched. There was still a barn door in the back entryway which we slid a broom handle through at night to keep the critters out. No one in our community had electricity until I was around ten, which would have been 1954, the same time local boys were coming home from fighting for South Korea.

The community church (Baptist) was the first to get electricity (1938), but didn’t get an inside flushable toilet facility until I was around eleven or twelve. It also had a pitcher pumped well out in the Churchyard for water.

Speaking of Church, my mother made me go to church every time the doors opened for whatever reason. Sometimes we had to walk or catch a ride with a