“All Aboard” Revisited – Part Eight

My Grandma – Bertha A. Ratcliff York – was a phenomenal woman. Plain and simple, but I learned a lot from her in the 30-some years we shared life on Earth. She passed in 1984…just weeks before my son was born.

Grandma taught me how to live and how to die (remember the letter I quoted in “All Aboard” about living a long life?) She taught me how to plant flowers and also shared how Grandpa said flowers should be planted. Remember? In one of her letters, she actually sent me fabric – a square patch sewed quite neatly into another piece of fabric to repair a hole. I probably still have that patch though I don’t know if I ever mastered the process. She taught too much to list and I’m thankful to have had her as a Grandma (my other grandma died when I was just three). 

Grandma wasn’t what you’d describe as “touchy-feely,” but I never doubted her love. Don’t get me wrong – she gave hugs, but not often. I always attributed that lack of demonstrative love to her Quaker upbringing, a trait passed down to the next generation, too. My dad was much the same…as is my brother, to this day. LOL! 

Me, on the other hand…I was somehow infected with the hug bug. I love a good hug and will share one with my hubby, kids, and grandkids whenever I can. Did that come from the Camp and Travis side? Who knows. It might not be a Ratcliff or York trait, but I inherited it (or cultivated it) and I proudly claim it. I’m a hugger.

Perhaps it was a product of that era – this conservative side – but as reserved as Grandma was, when I read of her adventures with her cousins I found myself smiling at her youthful and playful side. Grandma loved her family and it showed, even through the postal mail. Family was important to her.

The cousins Grandma visited on her 1913 trip were close to her age; Orpha (Moon) Bolander, especially. Oh, what fun these cousins had together, exploring places in the Woodland area, doing ‘fancy work’ together, riding horseback, carving their initials in a tree (still can’t believe that one), going to community events, and even doing chores. Being together meant good times.  

In September of 1913, Grandma and nine others (mostly cousins) visited an Indian church near Kamiah. She wrote about it in her journal. They took dinner along and ate on “a rock pile” near the Clearwater River, then went to the Indian W.C.T.U. meeting in the afternoon. As I explain in the book, W.C.T.U. is the Women’s Christian Temperance Union, a powerful organization dating back to the late 1800s credited with bringing about social change including the passage of the 18th and 19th amendments (prohibition and women’s right to vote), both of which happened after Grandma’s trip.

Grandma mentioned visiting a certain tombstone of an elderly squaw that day – Nancy Corbett. I had to know more so I did a little research after reading her journal. “Find-A-Grave” has a picture of the tombstone. I even asked permission to include it in my book but got no response from the photographer. So, I added this cemetery to my travel plans. I wanted to see it for myself.

“Tsah-Wits-Poo Ta-mic-kan-likt” Corbett died August 1, 1900 at the age of 110 years. She’s buried in the Nikesa Cemetery on the NezPerce Reservation. Interestingly, Grandma identified the secretary of the local WCTU in her journal. His name? Paul Corbett. According to the Find-A-Grave site, Nancy Corbett was his mother.

Jim and I found that little country church. The congregation meets in the town of Kamiah now, according to a sign on the door. The old building is well-maintained and located in a beautiful setting overlooking the Clearwater River just outside of town. I can imagine this party of ten making their way to the banks of the river to enjoy their lunch on that Sunday afternoon.

That old tombstone, bearing the surname Corbett on the back, has been seen by hundreds of visitors and endured many storms in the last 124 years. Topped with a delicate fern design, the etched words are weathered, worn, and gray with age. 

“You know,” Jim said, as we stood there soaking in a bit of local history, “your grandma may have stood in this very same spot.” 

Yes, that’s very true, I thought….and, was that Grandma’s hug I felt in the gentle breeze? 

Perhaps!

The etched inscription on this old tombstone is hard to decipher but the message is timeless….

“We cannot tell who next may fall beneath Thy chastening rod.  One must be first but let us all prepare to meet our God.” 

Jim and I wandered around another cemetery in Idaho at Woodland Friends Church. I recognized many of the names because they were people Grandma wrote of in her journal but also because of my familiarity with Quaker surnames. 

It was there I unexpectedly found the sweet little grave of Zenna Gallaher. She was a toddler who died in October of 1913 while Grandma was visiting Uncle Tilly and Aunt Janie. I wonder what happened? Grandma didn’t elaborate in the journal. Zenna was not a relative but a child of Woodland neighbors and friends of the Moon family. In her journal, Grandma spelled her name with one ‘n’ – Zena – but her name was Zenna.

Aunt Janie actually went to a “raggtacking” at the Gallaher home a few weeks earlier. That term – raggtacking – was a mystery when I transcribed Grandma’s journal. I searched for the meaning to no avail but the mystery is now solved. It’s another term for a quilting bee or a gathering where women work together on quilts. Makes sense. They were tacking rags together. Mystery solved.

Aunt Janie went to the Gallaher home the day Zenna died, too, while Uncle Tilly went down the mountainside to Pardee to bring Zenna’s sister home. Neighbors helping neighbors. Ada Gallagher was the oldest of 13 children and was a country school teacher at the time of her sister’s death. I originally misread Grandma’s penmanship and thought the town was Framway, but it’s Tramway. That’s where Ada taught, and it’s along the Clearwater River, not far from Pardee.

Another gravestone in the Woodland cemetery is that of Uncle Tilly and Aunt Janie Moon. Just for the record, Tilly is actually Quintilius V. Moon. He was sometimes called Q.V. but Uncle Tilly seems to be how most Woodlanders knew him. Aunt Janie was born Lydia Jane Ratcliff, but was most commonly known as Janie. This couple was well known in the Woodland area. With eight children, their descendants are many. 

When visiting the Kamiah Museum – which is awesome, by the way – I saw a quilt on display. Each block has an embroidered flower and signature of one of the Woodland locals; names mentioned in Grandma’s journal and most were relatives. Orpha Bolander, Edwin Bolander, Loyd Moon, Clyde Moon, Dale Moon, Ollie Blank (Esther’s widow). That was cool to see, too.

I mentioned Uncle Tilly’s Corner in my last post – remember? It is 1/2 mile or so down the road from the church corner. Jerry Johnson pointed out the barn and the corner when he gave us the grand tour of Woodland. Later, we stopped there to explore and snap some pictures.

I love old barns, and this one is special with lots of history. According to Jerry, as local trees were harvested and milled to build the Friends Church, that lumber was stored in Tilly’s barn.

Of course, the history of Woodland Friends Church predates the building, which was completed in 1939. Quakers are known for meeting together without a building. (There’s more about that in my book – even pictures of a “church” in England – Chapel Hill Friends Meeting House at Lancashire – built on land donated by the Ratcliff family. Our Quaker roots run deep!) But…it’s the people who make up a church…not the four walls.

I loved exploring every angle of the barn from the highway. I even picked up a weathered sliver of faded wood from the weeds; literally, a piece of family history and Woodland history, disintegrating over time near the foundation of this structure. And, what a NEAT story connecting the family and the church to this old barn. If only the walls of this old barn could talk. Oh, the stories it holds!