February 3

They call it "The Day the Music Died". Fifty years ago today, at 1 a.m. in the early morning hours of February 3, 1959, Buddy Holly, Richie Valens and the Big Bopper died in a plane crash near Clear Lake, Iowa. I know the date very well, because it was the day of my 14th birthday. The plane crash also occurred not far from where I was living at the time in Iowa.

My grandfather had died just 4 months before this happened and that had been my first personal experience with death as a child. I knew immediately how final this day was. I was the typical teenager with "45" records and star magazines and loving rock and roll. Why was it always so much easier to learn song lyrics to heart instead of history facts?

Music went on but isn't it amazing how the songs of these 3 men are still being played today? And since it is my birthday, I will add a line myself..."Will you still need me, will you still feed me, when I'm 64?" - The Beatles

P.S. This is also my 100th blog! Who would have ever thought?

The Family

I love old pictures and sometimes I imagine myself living during that time. This is one picture I just treasure. On the left is my grandfather(Opa) and Grandmother (Oma). The other couple is Opa's sister Susie and her husband Frank.

Opa was born in Argenta, Illinois in 1881. He married my Oma and lived in the German village in Iowa, but often traveled back to Illinois. The only information written on the back of the picture is "We are going to the Springfield Fair." No year, but I imagine it would have been about 1904-1908.

Recently I made contact with my grandfather's sister's grandson. He was delighted to receive this picture of his grandparents. I love these kind of connections.

The Haunted House

A blog I read every day, "At Home with the Farmer's Wife", reminded me of something from my childhood when she wrote this. I had a cousin who did not live in the same village I did, but south of town in the "country". I remember one summer day, there was quite a group of us walking through fields to get to what was known as "the haunted house."

This, at one time, had been a beautiful Victorian farm house. I even remember a turret, but possibly that was my romantic imagination. The story was, a single farmer with quite a bit of money was wooing a single gal living nearby with her family. She did not seem too interested in him, but he could not get her out of his head. So, he built this beautiful home, furnished it and I remember even seeing an upright piano in the parlor. After she refused him for the final time, he simply disappeared. Without even locking the door, he left the area never to be seen again.

I did see the house and I also remember, for some reason, our parents did not want to talk too much about the details of the romance. I do remember being told to stay out of there. As time went on, the house deteriorated and was finally torn down. I would love to wander through this house right now. Wouldn't you?