Winnie the Witch

by Jeanette Kahwaji

My Aunt Winnie was a riot and a witch (so she thought, she was born October 30th 19??.)  I would never tell her age, she may come back to haunt me. She and my Uncle Alvin, God bless him I don't know how he did it, lived in the house behind us in Chicago. Winnie always had a scary story to tell us kids and she loved every minute of it as we stood there fixated on her every word, eyes wide open, there was always a "got ya!" moment that sent us running and screaming and left her laughing hysterically. 

Aunt Winnie

It was a warm summer evening and our parents had gone out, my sister and cousin were watching me and my siblings. Aunt Winnie came over and told us about the "Witching Hour." If I remember correctly it was around 9 or 10 p.m.; the little garden fairies were going to visit her gardens and she wanted us to see them. We were so excited and anxious we watched the clock counting every minute waiting for 9 o'clock to arrive so we could tip toe over to Aunt Winnie's yard and wait and watch for the garden fairies.

My brother, me (2nd from left),
my two sisters (middle and right),
and our cousins in the backyard.

Well, finally the time had come and my sisters, brother, cousin and I all huddled together squeamishly, anxiously, nervously laughing. We hung onto one another as we headed out across our backyard to Aunt Winnie's yard. There she stood on the back porch waiting with that serious look on her face, ready for the kill. She made sure we all stood in a very specific area of the yard in the grass then the wait began. She told us about the fairies and how at witching hour they will come out of the flowers and dance around the garden but we had to stand very still and quiet. We watched her, listening, not wanting to scare the fairies off as she counted down the minutes. It was dark and quiet, we were in a trance, waiting, waiting, waiting. Just then, she turned on the sprinklers in the grass! We jumped and screamed and ran as she stood on the porch uncontrollably laughing. Damn, she got us again!

 

We ran home soaking wet and had a good laugh ourselves. It made our night and has given us memories to talk about with each other and our children.

Aunt Winnie was definitely my favorite - our favorite - Aunt.

Uncle Alvin and my dad, Chris Shaw

Senior Share Project in Vital! Magazine!

Eileen and I would like to thank Maureen Kuzman and everyone at Vital! Magazine for including us in their March issue!

Vital! provides both a print and online version of their monthly magazine. It's a specialty publication for active older adults. Each month, Vital! features content on health, finance, fitness, technology, travel, leisure and more.

Look to Vital! to keep you healthy, wealthy and wise with their local articles of interest, local event information and local advertisers.

Best of all, just like Senior Share Project, Vital! Magazine is FREE! Look for the print edition at Senior Centers in New Castle County, Delaware, the Triad area of North Carolina, and the Phoenix, Arizona Metro areas. You can also subscribe to get this exciting new publication mailed directly to your home or online mailbox, free! Click here to subscribe to Vital! Magazine for you or someone you love.

Look for us in the March issue (available March 20, 2011), on page 13, thanks again for reading, and send in those stories!!

Heidi and Eileen, editors, Senior Share Project

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Mom and Dad

by Nancy Hallock

Looking back, I realize how God-like my mother was.  She planted seeds.  No, not so much in a garden, although her baby iris flowers were stunning, but in people.

She would plant a seed in our Dad's brain.  It would nurture and grow, and after awhile, it would give birth to an idea.  HIS idea!

Then a doorway would be moved to a more sensible (for her) location.  A wall would come down and a dining room would be created.  A half-door would be built to protect that precious little baby, who had come ten years after the rest.

The story about that little seed is for another time. 

Dad was born in Fargo, North Dakota, in 1913, of Norwegian parents.  He didn't speak much English before he went to school, which probably was common in that part of the country, in those days.  He made up for it by becoming a star scholar, who could recite rules regarding English usage until the day he died at age 92. 

Ragnar (his friends called him "Rags"), had five younger sisters, so there was always a full house.  However, there always was room for "boarders," including two "old maid" school teachers, who were sisters.  They stayed for many years.

A few years ago, we saw an article in a local home and garden type of magazine from the Fargo area.  It had an article about an old house that was the original farm house on that side of town.  It would have been in the country at the time it was built.

Imagine our surprise, when we realized it was nothing of the sort!  It was the house that Dad had helped his father build when Dad was fifteen years old.   Our grandfather's flower gardens were well known at the time, and there are lovely pictures of the house and gardens from when Dad's family lived there.  We also have pictures of the house being built.  It looks different now.  Some creative and beautiful changes have been made, and two of our family members have been able to visit and take pictures.

The moral here (if there is one), is that the "official" records are not always correct, and are sometimes created by repeated media misperceptions - some things never change.

What is important is to listen, listen, listen to those stories.  Grandpa has already told you this ten times?  Listen again.  You might hear something new in the telling.  As the present becomes less important, the past becomes more vivid.  Listen!