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COBURG: Thoughts from a Child of the Depression

"...Do they still enter delicious, "made from scratch" cakes and pies, handmade quilts, or lye soap in contests at the County Fair? My sister Sue Heskamp Bailey and I have many happy memories of our times spent in Coburg. We don't get back to visit Aunt Effie Sandusky Heskamp often but surely hope to this summer. My cousin, Bob White, also lives in Columbia..."
By Cassie Heskamp Burrows
I have bid farewell to the Coburg I knew. Most summers of my youth were spent there on a farm of my grandparents, Ben and Myrtie Johnson Heskamp. A dusty, dirt road, "the lane", passed to the north of their house. It led east about 200 feet to "the pike" (Route 55) in "downtown" Coburg.



We often sat on the east porch of Grandaddy's house to watch the events of Coburg's daily life unfold. My grandparents knew nearly everyone who passed by. If they didn't recognize the passer-by, there would be much speculation about his or her identity!

Many folks who passed by stopped for a drink of cold well water. The dipper, used by all, hung on a post above the pump. From the porch, looking toward the pike, we could see the creek, cows and horses grazing; the store Mr. and Mrs. Coward's house, and old buildings that at various times were another store, a grain mill, a barber shop, a blacksmith shop and garage, a tenant house, and another farm. Also, we watched the Greyhound Bus pass by about three times a day on the way to or from Louisville.

On the lane, mules and wagons, horses and riders, farm equipment, cars, trucks, and boys on bicycles raised dust as they rattled by. Everyone waved. School children, many barefooted, walked by with their lunch pails. On their way home, some of them stopped by to play croquet or "dar" base or "Red Rover" in our yard. I remember "Ole Doc Atkinson" driving by in his car which had a running board. I don't know the year or model. His little dog clung to the running board, barking.

Various local family members ambled by to pick up their mail at the Coburg Store and Post Office. Everything happened there -- buying gasoline, postage stamps, penny candy, a Coke or Orange NEHI. It was possible to purchase a pocket knife, yard goods, brogans, bib overalls, a jumbo or "pickled dog" sandwich, or coal oil. Many locals passed the time on the store porch, socializing, whittling, and spitting tobacco juice. Names of the store owners through the years stick in my mind: Mr. Eugene Biggs and Mrs. Annie Whitney, Mr. and Mrs. Sam Breeding, and Otley and Marie Gilpin.

The stars have never shone more brightly than in the clear, night black sky where the Big Dipper seemed near enough to touch. Our way walking home from an evening visit to "Miss" Annie's or the Scott's or Faye and Paul Bennett's was illuminated by the brightness. Now, I never see the Big Dipper without thoughts of Coburg! My grandfather's house still stands and has been well cared for by Mr. Jimmie Todd and his family My grandfather was born on the property, though not in the house, and lived there all of his life. My father, his brothers and my brother, were born in the house.

My brother Reade, my sister Sue and I continued visiting there with our children even as we watched Coburg and the world change. Our old and dear friends have died or moved on now. We cherished visits to and from our Heskamp and Beard relatives throughout Adair and Taylor Counties. Some still live there. Our visits are never frequent enough now, nor long enough.

The old store, the outbuildings, Miss Annie's house, the lane and my grandfather's barns are gone. All of the old famiily names have left: Whitley, Scott, Biggs, Coward, Sublett, Pike, Noe, Toole, Hare, Martin, Bault and Heskamp. The pike has been replaced and Coburg by-passed.

I don't suppose the folks who live there now play Rook in the evening, swim and fish by the old Sycamore tree, play "town ball" at the Coburg School (long gone), pick blackberries on the hill, attend pie suppers or sit on their porches. Do they still enter delicious, "made from scratch" cakes and pies, handmade quilts, or lye soap in contests at the county fair? Not much tobacco grown now.

Always, as we started down the hill to Coburg, my heart began to beat in wild anticipation. We city children from Ohio were fortunate to experience Coburg! Now I think of those halcyon days with tears in my eyes and a grateful heart. Passing time has brought many changes but in my mind I still walk down that dusty lane or sit on the east porch of that old farmhouse in Coburg. I still shout and wave to those who pass by. I remember thankfully the kind, unpretentious and generous people who befriended my family many years ago.


This story was posted on 2006-07-12 08:00:04
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