As I have stated earlier, I was graced with a large box of pictures and memorabilia from historian Fan Titus McKenzie Harrington, last year. In this box are a number of notes jotted down by Fan on the back of printed papers. I understand this frugality as I know how hard writing paper was to come by when I was a child and I continue to save every sheet of paper I receive, that has a blank side. This is used for all my research notes and thoughts.
Fan was Chairman of the Granite County Seal Sale for the 48th Annual Christmas Sale to promote The Montana Tuberculosis Society in November, 1954. The paper had the TBA letterhead and stated:
“Dear Granite County Citizens: Holiday Greetings. The season which brings out our best feelings of friendliness and unselfishness is again with us. Once again we appeal to you to continue your help in the Annual Christmas Seal Sale.
Tuberculosis is no respecter of age, or race or creed. Here in Granite County this year, at a cost of $565.82 in Christmas Seal Funds, 1,718 people or 79 percent of our x-ray-able population were given tests by the x-ray mobile unit. Early discovery of Tuberculosis is the least expensive time [?type] of treatment. Therefore, less tax money is needed to operate the State Tuberculosis Sanitarium, The State Board of Health, Welfare and Rehabilitation Departments, if Tuberculosis is discovered and treated in the early stages. The enclosed seals are $1.00 a sheet. Please buy what you can. To those that help, we say, “Thank You.” Sincerely Yours; Mrs. Fan Harrington, Seal Sale Chairman, Granite County."
On the blank back side of three of these letters Fan jotted down in a somewhat rambling style the following:
“ some people, I am one of them, seem just to never know when to leave well enough alone. According to Hawthorne’s poem which begins- The dark and melancholy days are here- the saddest of the year this is the time to abandon hope while sitting down to await a long hard winter -but what does this optimistic elderly person do but let her mind wander back to the years where November meant an old-timer’s party with the Woman’s Club of Philipsburg acting as sponsors. Picture me there, as spending much of my time this last week looking over stacks of pictures many of them photographs of people I knew long ago. Some are snapshots which remind me of the occasions on which they were taken- Seeing pictures of a camp on Rock Creek just above the Wyman ranch was a source of joy for nearly sixty years to members of the group who as young people camped there each summer for several years. Today as one of the very few remaining members of this party I remember many of the details of those happy times. Every day the young men and boys cut and dragged in wood for the evening camp fire which blazed away far into the night as the voices of the group and visitors sang one old song after another. There was story telling also - many of them about the big one that got away for fishing was very good back in the good old days.
The family of an English Clergyman camped down on Stony Creek one year and almost every evening they came to visit at out camp. Now it happened that one young man who came from out of town brought, what he thought would be a treat for all of us, a case of queen gage plums. They were so hard and so green that no one could eat them. How the boys did delight in passing baskets of plums to the English guests, who were too polite to refuse them and who strove mightily to eat and not show the facial expressions of their distaste from this bitter fruit.”
The writing continues on into another string of thoughts I will share later. Because this was written in pencil and has many crossed out and re-worked sentences it takes some time to decipher. Fortunately this treasure trove of memories was placed in a cardboard box and put in a dark closet many years ago, so the paper and writing are still in remarkable good shape. I can only hope that by the time I get to the bottom of the box I will find notes jotted down on family histories I have been told she made while interviewing old timers.
No comments:
Post a Comment