|
 Mark
Twain wrote, “…. our house was not insentient matter…...it had a
heart and soul and eyes to sees us with, and approvals and
solicitudes and deep sympathies; it was of us, and we were in its
confidence, and lived in its grace and in the peace of its
benediction. We never came home from an absence that its face did
not light up and speak out its eloquent welcome…and we could not
enter it unmoved.”
I also read online, “A house is not just a place to live. It’s a
reflection of the person who built it, and sometimes, a story worth
telling.”
Thus, I bring home the topic of this column. I’m not talking about
HGTV’s “Ugliest House in America” or “Zillow Gone Wild.” No, I want
to articulate the comfort, support and love one receives from a home
that has held you through the seasons of life.
After losing my Mac last fall our home has been both calming and
turbulent. It all depends on my mood of the day. Sometimes his
office is unapproachable because of all the memories and other times
I bask in the joy of recalling him building model airplanes there as
he listened to 50’s and 60’s rock’ n roll. Our home is more than a
building; it’s an entity within these cherished walls.
With great delight I see personalities of the residents within their
homes. Back when I was young, I belonged to the Lacon Junior Women’s
Club. We were always thrilled when the Schrock’s would host our
meeting. They lived in a beautiful home overlooking the Illinois
River. There were many great architectural features about the house.
What I loved most, though, was the fact that they had a porch swing
in their living room to sit and view the panorama of their gorgeous
location. It had the perfect wood, cushions, chains, width, and
context of motion. Each of us envisioned ourselves as a genteel
southern lady. Proper and elegant we would gently glide in a
hypnotic back and forth motion as cicadas buzzed and birds sang. In
actuality, we were ready to shove anyone ahead of us out of the way
to get to the swing first. Our poor hostess had her hands full
trying to make sure we all got a turn to rhythmically sway as we
watched the current drift by and bask in the riverside calm. Right.
Joey had to set her kitchen timer and shoo us off to make sure we
shared. What a fun memory.
Another great demonstration of homes being the essence of their
occupants is a couple we adored. They were great in stature and in
personality. Rather than be self-conscious of their physiques they
accepted themselves and took pride in their home being their humble
castle. They built an A frame house. Within it they designed and
created a swing bed. It. Was. Amazing.
One can hold the swing up on one side and easily vacuum and clean
under it with absolutely no stooping, kneeling, or stretching. They
built it to direct heights and width for their bodily structures.
Making the bed was a breeze for them. They slept in a berth that
rocked them to sleep every night. They took pride in telling of
their research in how this rhythmic motion triggered a calming
response in the brain and was scientifically proved to reduce the
time it takes to fall into a deep sleep. As if this wasn’t enough to
impress, this wonderful couple had peacocks running around their
home greeting and scolding visitors as they saw fit.
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The absolute coup de grace is at the end of their driveway. There
sitting under a single streetlamp at night, sits a Beechcraft C45H,
nose-down, partially gutted. It is right on Hwy 71, Norway, Il.
Mervin and Phyllis Eastwood were owners of Norwegian Implement
Company. They were customers that became lifelong friends. Merv
gauged his acceptance of you totally upon his beloved cat’s
reception of you. If the cat haughtily walked away, you remained
just a customer, salesman, or visitor. If the feline jumped up into
your arms and purred, you were a friend forevermore. Blessedly, I
was pounced upon and blissfully purred over. But I digress. Remember
the farmers and agribusiness people who had to live through the
1980’s downturn? Musicians and activists rallied side by side to
support struggling farmers. Merv used the crashed plane as a
monument posting a sign reading, “Dedicated to all farmers and Ag
related business folks that have lived thru the ‘Agricultural Crash’
of the 1980’s.”
What a great couple to have as friends and customers. We supported
each other till the very end. God bless, Phyl and Merv.
I can’t possibly finish without writing about Stronghold Castle.
Wikipedia, “Stronghold Castle or Stronghold Center is located near
Oregon, Illinois, atop the limestone bluffs of the Rock River.
Designed by Maurice Webster, it was built between 1928 and 1930 by
Walter Strong, then owner and publisher of the ‘Chicago Daily News’.
In 1962 the castle and surrounding area were purchased by the
Presbyterian Church. Today, it serves as a year-round camping and
retreat center, hosting summer camps and an Olde English Faire.”
Growing up Presbyterian, I loved visiting Stronghold. Our youth
group experienced several overnight stays there. My favorite was
visiting there one Halloween weekend. There were eight of us from
the LaPrairie bunch so we went as Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs.
Because of my hay fever, I was designated to be Sneezy. As if the
castle wasn’t magnificent in its own right……….it has a secret
passageway. Yes! In the library, if you know the secret spot you can
trek through hidden corridor and jump out to give a coronary to your
youth group leader. What more could a teenage Presbyterian desire?!
“Mid pleasures and palaces though we may roam/Be it every so humble,
there’s no place like home.” John Howard Payne.
L. Maxine McQueen
may be contacted at
maxmac.1@juno.com
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