Memories of Ojibway by Anna Marie Wilson Maloney
For Pam, Dan, and Mike
Foreword
Foreword
Her voice was deep and raspy, her demeanor always pleasant when I was around, in spite of trials and tribulations in her personal life. She was warm, deeply religious and always proud of her children and extended family. My mother used to drive frequently from our home in Paducah, Kentucky to visit her in Sikeston, Missouri. Aunt Marie was the oldest of the Wilson children, and she was more than a sister to my mother, she was a friend whose council, insights, and Christian testimony were sought and valued.
Anna Marie Wilson, as a child, loved to visit her neighbors, sing and she played the relic of an organ in the old Rucker Baptist Church. It is her recollections of a time just after the turning of the previous century, that are presented here. It was a time when the community had a post office and a train ran regularly through the Moore properties. It was a time when the family unit was the most important thing in the lives of those who farmed there, raised children, and scratched out an existence in the rocky soil above Wet Fork Creek and the Otter Creek valley. Turn off the T.V. and IPOD, the radio and whatever other distractions our modern world of leisure affords us, and enjoy a glimpse into another time and place as told and written by someone who was born there, and lived most of the formative years of life there. Shortly after penning her memoirs in 1976, Anna Marie Wilson Maloney lost her battle with congestive heart disease August 19, 1982. She is buried in Rucker Cemetery along with her parents and several siblings, just up the gravel road from her place of birth and childhood.
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| Anna Marie Wilson Maloney |
FOND MEMORIES OF OJIBWAY AS SEEN THROUGH THE EYES OF MARIE WILSON MALONEY
Ah yes, how well I remember "Jibby", known by some as the Moore Settlement because many of us were "kin" all the way back to third and fourth cousins, and this stems from the fact that my grandfather homesteaded there after the Civil War.
My grandfather and grandmother were Daniel and Susan (Tarlton) Moore. My parents are Clarence and Bessie (Moore) Wilson. Dad has been deceased thirty years, but thanks be to God we still have our precious mother.
I have four brothers: Hank, Clarence, JR., Herbert and Cecil Wilson. My baby brother, Russell, died in infancy. I also have four sisters: Delores (Wilson) Ragan, Sylvia (Wilson) Martin. Mary Bazzell, and Beverly (Wilson) Madrid (Richmann).
The first house I remember living in at Ojibway was the John Dick Moore (John Richard Moore, son to William Dudley "Boots" Moore, brother to Daniel) place. I still don"t know how we all fit in just two rooms, because there were seven children. But we did, and as I recall, it wasn't bad at all.
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| The beginning of the Wilson Clan. Marie with father Clarence Madison Wilson,, SR., and mother Bessie Edith Moore Wilson. Circa 1916-1917. |
Up the road a little ways (from the spring where the house was located towards the direction of the Rucker Schoolhouse and Church) was grandfather's house, and I can still see my mother coming home carrying a big water bucket full of good fresh milk. She went twice a day to milk the cows. She would pass through the yard down to the spring house to separate the cream from the milk so that we could have good churned butter in addition to the nourishing milk. I also recall hearing the dinner bell ring and seeing dad coming in from the field with his team of mules to eat dinner and relax awhile before going back to the field. (Note: it is my current belief that this house was the original Moore home of John and Eliza Moore, being passed down to their grandson, John Dick Moore, before John Dick Moore's relocation to a newer home. The house was in poor condition and in need of repair at the time of the Wilson occupation. Keith Ragan)
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| Clarence and Bessie Wilson with children, L-R - Iva Delores, Anna Marie, and Francis Marion (Hank) Wilson. Circa 1923 at the old John Dick Moore cabin, believed to have been built around 1849 by John Moore and sons. |
Then, there was the post office at Ojibway, which was a about a mile and a half down the railroad. When it was my time to go to "Jibby" after the mail, of times I'd get to the Dees Crossing, and instead of going down that hot railroad track I would go over a big high hill, and at the top I would stop and rest a few minutes. Then down the hill past Bed (Abednigo Williams) and Lora's house to the post office. Going back home I'd take the railroad, which would give me an opportunity to call "Hello" to Amos, Pearl, Charley or Gladys Moore who lived by the railroad on top of a hill. There was Alta and Jim Moore's house, not far from their house was John Dick and Lottie's, and then our house was next, which was a welcome sight, especially with the temperature from 104 to 110 degrees or more.
I would like to say a little bit about my grandparents. Granddad was a big man in stature and as a human being. He wore a long white beard and mustache and was known throughout our community and for miles around as "Uncle Dan". He was always ready to lend a helping hand whether it was financial or otherwise. Yes, my grandad was a compassionate human being. Many is the time I've seen him pick up the bible and read to my grandmother who was blind. But being blind didn't keep her from doing the household chores. She was amazing. Often I'd close my eyes and try to walk through the house like "Granny" but to no avail.
Granddad was married at an early age (18). His first two wives died in childbirth, and to these unions several children were born. Among them were: Uncles William, John, and Bob, and Aunts Hattie, May, and Lucille, (who's in her 80's and still travels from Florida to Greenville. occasionally). Grandad and my grandmother reared three children: my mother Bessie, Uncle Doad (Theodore, SR.) and Aunt Annie. Altogether Granddad was the father of 20 children or more.
When Aunt Ann and Uncle Odie Dees lived on the Bob Dees place, we could hear her coming in her "Model T Ford" singing at the top of her voice, "Yonder Comes a Man Across the Field". She could really sing too.
Uncle Doad and his family lived in St. Louis, and what a treat it was for us when they came to "Jibby" for a visit. My brother, Junior (Clarence, JR.) and Teddy, JR. were more like brothers than cousins, and that ole swimming hole on Otter Creek got a good working out when company came. We all went swimming in overalls. I wonder what all our grandparents would say if they could see the swimming apparel that's worn today.
After my sister, Mary, was born, (we still lived on the John Dick place) dad began building us a four room house just below Granddad's place. Of course neighbors helped; in those days everyone helped one another. If a neighbor got behind in his work, everyone pitched in and helped him catch up.
We loved our new house. A short way up the road and around the bend lived Bob and Malinda Moore, and after you got to their house you could see Rucker School. There's where we got our education in a one room schoolhouse.
It was a busy time each morning as we all got ready for school. After our chores were done and our dinner buckets packed, we would all start at a pretty lively pace to get there on time. My cousins, Wilbur, Don, Mae Dees and Opel Moore, who lived farther away from school than we did, almost always beat us there. we weren't the only ones slow, for many times by the time we got in sight of school we could look up the road and coming down down the long Rucker hill we could see the Woods', Hayes', and Septa Bailey and Paralee Luke Moore coming. I guess by the time all the pupils arrived there were approximately 20 or 25 in all.
The church was right next to the school. Brother Wilbert Allen came once a month for services -- except for revivals, then he would stay in different homes till the revival was over, because he lived in (old) Greenville. In those days you couldn't tell how long the "meeting" would last. Folks would attend them as far away as Chaonia and Bethel. Some would walk while others came in wagons, and it seemed like there were as many on the outside as on the inside.
My what singing -- seems like Rucker Church would rock from side to side as we sang songs like "Just Over in Glory Land" and others. I played the old pump organ. Sometimes some of the keys would stick -- sometimes one of the pedals wouldn't work -- but sometimes that old organ worked perfectly. Lots of times Pat Moore and others, including Brother Allen, got happy -- then Brother Allen would start preaching. I didn't understand what believing in the Lord Jesus Christ meant then, but I do now, and the longer I know him, the sweeter He grows.
As my thoughts travel down memory lane I remember our evenings in our home at Ojibway. After our chores were done and the supper dishes washed, we would often assemble out on the front porch. I'd bring out the guitar and we would all sing -- sometimes Amiel and Floyd Moore would come down and join us. Shade and Ada Williams lived across the field from us 1/2 mile, and they could hear us singing as they relaxed on their front porch.
Oh! What lovely beautiful nights we spent on that front porch -- listening to the bullfrogs down at the creek -- the whipperwills -- the crickets, and the stars were so bright they seemed so close, it was as if you could reach up and touch them. When the moon was full you could see Shade and Ada's place across the field and granddad's place -- it was such a feeling of tranquility and peace, but as I look back now I guess we took all that beauty and tranquility for granted. When everything was still you could even hear Otter Creek as it rippled over the rocks and pebbles making its way toward its destination.
In the late twenties we left Ojibway and moved to St. Louis, and our home always had the welcome mat out for all who needed a refuge while seeking employment in the big city. I remember Jewel, Blanche, Pearl. Luther and Herbert Moore and others who were more than welcome at 1083 S. Newstead, St. Louis, Missouri.
I seldom get to go back to "Jibby", but when I do I stop first at Rucker Cemetery where many loved ones have been laid to rest -- among those are my father, my baby brother, Grandma (Susan Ann Tarlton Moore) Aunt Lois, Cousin Wilburn Dees, who gave his life for our country in World War II, and many, many others. The last time I was there, which was some time ago, the cemetery was well kept -- so clean and beautiful.
Yes, I remember Ojibway, and in closing, let me say this -- fond memories are treasures to be cherished -- also before I finished this writing, my sister Delores (Dee Wilson Ragan), has gone on to be with the Lord. We all miss her so very much. Sometimes in the evening when all is still, seems as though I can see her smile and hear her say, "Keep trusting in the Lord -- be faithful to Him, it's worth it all"
Marie Wilson Maloney -- 1976.
The church was right next to the school. Brother Wilbert Allen came once a month for services -- except for revivals, then he would stay in different homes till the revival was over, because he lived in (old) Greenville. In those days you couldn't tell how long the "meeting" would last. Folks would attend them as far away as Chaonia and Bethel. Some would walk while others came in wagons, and it seemed like there were as many on the outside as on the inside.
My what singing -- seems like Rucker Church would rock from side to side as we sang songs like "Just Over in Glory Land" and others. I played the old pump organ. Sometimes some of the keys would stick -- sometimes one of the pedals wouldn't work -- but sometimes that old organ worked perfectly. Lots of times Pat Moore and others, including Brother Allen, got happy -- then Brother Allen would start preaching. I didn't understand what believing in the Lord Jesus Christ meant then, but I do now, and the longer I know him, the sweeter He grows.
As my thoughts travel down memory lane I remember our evenings in our home at Ojibway. After our chores were done and the supper dishes washed, we would often assemble out on the front porch. I'd bring out the guitar and we would all sing -- sometimes Amiel and Floyd Moore would come down and join us. Shade and Ada Williams lived across the field from us 1/2 mile, and they could hear us singing as they relaxed on their front porch.
Oh! What lovely beautiful nights we spent on that front porch -- listening to the bullfrogs down at the creek -- the whipperwills -- the crickets, and the stars were so bright they seemed so close, it was as if you could reach up and touch them. When the moon was full you could see Shade and Ada's place across the field and granddad's place -- it was such a feeling of tranquility and peace, but as I look back now I guess we took all that beauty and tranquility for granted. When everything was still you could even hear Otter Creek as it rippled over the rocks and pebbles making its way toward its destination.
In the late twenties we left Ojibway and moved to St. Louis, and our home always had the welcome mat out for all who needed a refuge while seeking employment in the big city. I remember Jewel, Blanche, Pearl. Luther and Herbert Moore and others who were more than welcome at 1083 S. Newstead, St. Louis, Missouri.
I seldom get to go back to "Jibby", but when I do I stop first at Rucker Cemetery where many loved ones have been laid to rest -- among those are my father, my baby brother, Grandma (Susan Ann Tarlton Moore) Aunt Lois, Cousin Wilburn Dees, who gave his life for our country in World War II, and many, many others. The last time I was there, which was some time ago, the cemetery was well kept -- so clean and beautiful.
Yes, I remember Ojibway, and in closing, let me say this -- fond memories are treasures to be cherished -- also before I finished this writing, my sister Delores (Dee Wilson Ragan), has gone on to be with the Lord. We all miss her so very much. Sometimes in the evening when all is still, seems as though I can see her smile and hear her say, "Keep trusting in the Lord -- be faithful to Him, it's worth it all"
Marie Wilson Maloney -- 1976.
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| At the Reece's Creek home of mother Bessie circa 1950 - 1952. L-R: Beverly Wilson, Bessie Wilson, Francis Marion (Hank), Sylvia Maude, Iva Delores (Dee), and Marie. |
Copyright by the Author, Keith Wayne Ragan and may not be reproduced or published in any form without the permission of the author or the children and heirs of Anna Marie Wilson Maloney. It may be copied and reproduced as desired for private family trees, records, and archives.
Authors Footnote: Italicised font was not a part of Aunt Marie's original hand-written memoir, but was added for additional clarification.
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