|
HISTORY OF OMEGA THROUGH 30 YEARS I HAVE KNOW
IT
The history of this little town,
I'm going to tell you about, Isn't much I'm pretty sure, But please
don't start to pout. For I'll not keep you very long, There isn't
much to tell, I'll turn the pages carefully, For you who know
well.
I'll roll back the years for just a while, Beginning at the
store where Charlie Hemerle Kept his post for 20 years or more.
Pauline Blazer keeps there now And I'm just telling you, When they
beat that gal at selling goods, They're far between and few.
Just
back of them, Bill Fiddler lived, He was the section boss, I've
heard 'em say, Bill was a good old guy, Except when he'd get cross,
That's gone to Wesley Snyder now. Who lives on Market street; I
guess the crew thinks well of him, And say he's hard to
beat.
Across the track to the old depot, That's sheltered kith
and kin, The operator that worked there then, Was known at Daniel
Ginn. How time does change, as we go on. Man power now we lack, A
lady holds the office now, At the depot up the tracks.
As we come
on, just down the way, In keeping with these times, A blacksmith
shop confronted us, It's keeper, Dave Wickline. He's gone on now to
the Better Land, To rest a little while; But leaves with those who
knew him well, The memory of a smile. But woe is me as I now relate
Some changes that been made, We wish sometime that fate Would turn
and from our memory fade.
|
|
The
building now that Wickline owned, Has gone to a man named Fred Who
turned it into a garage, To earn his daily bread. He's not the best
man in the world, But, yet, he's a good old scout He can take your
car of any make, And turn it inside out, And put it back together
The engine purrs like a cat, But when you pay the bill, sir, Your
pocket-book is flat. The telephone is ringing, Some one's down in a
gorge Of mud, up to the axle, Please come and get us, Mr. George,
And away he goes in his faithful truck, And pulls them out of the
slime and muck. He hauls our coal, and hauls our wood, And sometimes
hauls our househould goods.
Down through the years we go again,
And on memory's list we search We stop and gaze with joyful pride On
our own old Methodist church. She's past her century's milestone,
And weathered many a storm, It's a refuge for the weary, A haven to
the forlorn, We have listened to many pastors, Explain this
beautiful way, And now that our Methodist church Is in this town to
stay. For we can do without a lot of things, Yet for many things we
search But when it comes to living, We can't do without the
church.
Next comes the old brick school house, We remember it so
well; How the children fell in line and marched, At the first tap of
the bell. The little ones were up in front Just stair steppin' down,
Maybe you don't think we miss our school, It's a great loss to our
town. The old school house has been transformed Into a Community
Hall, Which extends to you a welcome, Free to one and all. The
Garden Club has its fower show, Many other meetings, too, And every
spring, the best of all, We have the Farmer's Institute.
|
|
And that's the time for everyone,
To forget about your woe, And get the world all done in time. So
you'll be sure to go. I'm sure you won't regret it, When you see the
table spread With pie and cake and chicken, Salads, hot rolls and
bread. But, that's not all, we have speakers, too, That's really
good to hear, Home talent and many things We hope you'll like, And
come again next year.
And Dr. Wills, he lived there then, And
used to soothe our ills; But folks, here's one thing that I will
say, He gave the most doggonedest pills, But they just up and did
the work, And you went on your way, And bet you've not been sick
again, From that, until this day, But he's gone on to larger fields
On Waverly he picked; And we haven't any doctor now So you better
not get sick.
The old town hall as it was known, Is right down
the line, I can still hear 'em call the old square dance Why, I've
been there many a time, And used to dance "Chase the 'Possum and
Chase the Coon" Chase the Pretty Boy 'Round the Moon; Chase the
rabbit and chase the squirrel, Chase the pretty girl 'round the
world"; But, of course, that was thirty years ago, When I was just a
girl. And the Ladies' Aid one time, Had a turkey supper there, Soup
beans and corn bread, Ten cents was the price of the bill of
fare.
And the lodge, Modern Wood- men and Red men, too, Met there
from time to time; And banquets every now and then, And boys, the
cats were fine. Election booths and committee meets And black-face
medicine shows All found a place in the old town hall, In the days
of long ago But time, too, has changed the old town hall, As down
the years we search, The building's been remodeled And is now a
Holiness church. |
|
The mission on Aldredge Corner has
gone its way a some more, There D. E. Bartram runs a business,
Better known as Clodhopper Store. On down to Oliver Christman and
John Rose stores of the past, We regret to say that they, too, have
passed on, But long will their memory last. The post office, too,
has taken it flight, Along with what seems all the rest, William
Maloy was our postmaster, We considered him one of the best, But, of
course, our carrier's a dandy, And we do not think he's a
crank.
He is known to all on R. F. D. 3 But a pet name "Uncle
Frank" And now we go on to the corner Where used to be Elisha
Humphrey's mill. A general store, there, too was in order, The
houses are standing there still. While they're gone on to a land
that is fair, To wait beside of the stream, Where we'll all be
ferried across some day.
Now folks, I've done my very best, In
giving this to you, I only hope when the words you check, You'll
find them very much true, Although I know if you check them close,
You could find very much to mend, But in Revelations, the Master
says, Alpha is the beginning, Omega is the end.
-(by Mrs. Emma Saxton, Waverly rfd
3, (Omega).
15 March 1945 The Republican Herald
(Emily Saxon 1894-1970)
|
