I lived on an island….

I lived on an island….

Not a Gillian like Island.. but an island never the less.   Even the state I was raised in.. has Island in the name..  It is the smallest state, with the largest or longest name.. State of  Rhode Island and Providence Plantations… Providence being the state capital …which is the main land connected to other states.  

But I was raised on Aquickneck Island which was a combo of 3 towns… and roughly 15 miles

Long and about 7 miles wide. So one could walk across the island easy enough.  And connects to the main land by 3 different bridges along the island.

The towns were Newport, Middletown, and Portsmouth. (for those non east coast, that is pronounced like Portsmith not Ports  mouth)… with several Islands around it that belong to Newport County.

Prudence, Patience, Hope, Jamestown just for a few.  

As a kid, it was wonderful..  I was born in the hospital in Newport, but raised my whole kid life

In Middletown.  In my time.. we all went to our local schools but come high school we went to Newport. There were 3.. the Catholic boys..  DeLasalle , Catholic girls ..St. Catharine’s

And the public high school Rogers High School.

Everyone in the county went there.. at that time. Now there is 3 high schools.. each town having their own.  Going to school was a hour ride or more.. because we were the first ones on in the morning.. meaning we traveled all over the town and then headed to Newport.. And the last one off the bus for the same reason. I could walk to school faster than taking the bus. And I did it often in the Spring and Fall.

Middletown was about 3 miles long. So we could walk where ever we wanted to.  Just our parents didn’t let us, unlike it is now days. So we pretty much stayed in our own neighborhood.

It was the best of times.  We worked hard. My brother and I.. we lived on a tiny farm. Horse farm. So that meant haying for summer fun. We would go to different fields that the folks had got permission to cut the grass and bale it. Well, bale it later in years. The folks threw the hay on the back of the old one ton truck we had. And my brother and I would stomp it down. When we got old enough, we got to drive the truck very slowly.. idle .. up and down the aisle of hay, while the folks threw it on the truck. My brother and I would stomp it down before we left the field. Then Dad would drive home and we were on top.  Now days that would be child abuse as we could have fallen off.  After all Dad was going top speed of 25 mph. Once we got to the house, he would back up to the barn area.. where we would either add to the stack there.. or start a new one.. Seems it took 3 stacks to last the winter. As they would be as tall as the barn. As the folks threw the hay on the stack, we would stomp it down. When it was the proper height, they would tarp it with a canvas tarp.

At times we would climb up on the barn and run across the roof and jump on to the stacks.. which got us into big trouble, because when we came down off the stack, it seems some of the hay would come with us. Didn’t take long to learn that was not a fun way, by the time Mom got finished with us.  

Mom had a garden. Of which we seem to be a big part of that too. Digging, planting.. and of course the real fun stuff…. Weeding.. all summer long, weeding. All kinds of veggies that we didn’t like (egg plant for one) that we had hope would not grown.. which seem to grow in great bounds.

We had chickens besides the horses. The horses were shown at horse shows.  American Saddle Bred for starters and then in the 1950’s, Holy Smoke came to the barn.. from Ireland. He was a steep chase jumper, but got injured on the ship over to the USA.. so was sold at auction. Mom bought him for $100.. which was like $1000 now. And Mom showed him many years. He was grand champion jumper of New England.  Some people were jealous.. and some men came to see if they could give him a shot in the middle of the night to drug him.  Which was a shock to them to find two girls sleeping and giggling in the hay loft above.. they ran, but dropped the needle in the driveway.

The chickens produced eggs but also for fryers.

Mom would order 200 chicks. Dad had fashion a metal ring in the basement, with a heat lamp over the top of it. It had shavings in it. The chicks loved it.. Weird as the US postal service use to deliver them in a 4x4x1 foot box… They were so cute.. I still love the smell of them, when I go into a feed store these days in the spring..and they get their orders in.  When the chicks got big enough to jump out of the circle it was time to put them in the coop.  And a few weeks later it was time to kill the roosters for fryers. Dad would chop off the head… my brother would chase them down and bring them back to him.  Then dad would douse them into a boiling pot and out.. taking them in to the shed to hang them by their feet. Then Mom and I defeathered them. Which wouldn’t be too hard to start with, but the pin feathers sucked.  And Mom made sure I got ever single one of them. We usually did about 25 at a time.  Dad wouldn’t eat chicken for at least 2 weeks.

Over all life was good… now that I look back and see the difference between my childhood and the ones of my great grandchildren.. I realize what a great childhood we had. So much less stressful.  There wasn’t any peer pressure. And we were so busy doing chores and homework, we didn’t have time to get into too much trouble.  Mom and Dad were pretty strict, so we didn’t go far from home.. We didn’t have to worry about some one taking us.. well, come to think of it.. Mom and Dad threaten us with the Gypsies that could come thru town and take  kids.. when we weren’t being good. 

I sure wish I could give my childhood to my great grand children.  Even my grandchildren who are raising their kids.  It was a good life.  We didn’t have a lot.. but we didn’t know we were not well off. Dad worked for the government as a mechanic. So we had enough.. Mom managed the money. Her grocery bill was $10 a week. Even when we were teens it was like $15.  I would watch her make out her list of food to buy. She canned a lot. This was before freezers… at least for us. I think I was 15 before we got one.

The islands that were around Aquickneck was where my father was born and my grandmother. My father was born on Jamestown.  My grandmother was born on Prudence Island. My grandfather was raised on Jamestown, and he would court my grandmother during the week while she taught school in Jamestown.  Then weekends she go home to Prudence. He would row a boat over to see her on weekends during the summer. The bay was too rough other wise.

They got married in New York at the church called. The Little Church on the Corner.  

I am glad I grew up with I did.. I never would have made it now.