the wanderings my mind takes


So, our family (my father’s side) has a reunion every year. It is the third Sunday in July, forever. I think this last one was the 119th Cheney reunion. Anyway, we have a history book. When I was younger, it would be set out on a table (usually in the house of the host) so that all could peruse it.

Over the last few years – maybe decade! – it hasn’t always been visible. People move away, pass away, so on and the book doesn’t always show up for the reunion.

I had the idea that it should be digitized for all to have. I have requested it every chance I had. And, this last summer, the holder of the book passed it on to me (temporarily) for me to scan.

I was a good girl and carefully set it on my cutting table (sewing – not food!), so nothing and no one could or would bother it. Then I started to scan, one year at a time.

Of course, it was summer, so I lasted two days! I finally decided enough and picked up the project again, yesterday. Deciding that working from the front of the book to the back would be easiest, I scanned through 2007 before the storm hit last night.

Today, I was bored with the recent history and jumped to the back. Boy, was I surprised!!! The book I remembered had all these pictures and news clippings. There were tidbits about people and events. But, nothing is there! :O

There must be another book. The original must be put away for safe keeping. I truly hope so. The whole reason I wanted this done was so my sons and (hopefully) future grandchildren could see all these interesting things about their ancestors.

Next year, I will try to find out. I doubt that I’ll ever be able to get my hands on that one, being the black sheep of the black sheep has been a showstopper most of my life. But, I am a very persistent black sheep and will continue to ask, year after year.

Until then, I am going to use this little space of mine to show off some of my past, nay, my ancestors – family of all and baby who

First, my daddy. He was a wonderful man. He didn’t talk a great deal, but in the mornings, sometimes, when it was just he and I, he would feed me little tidbits of his life. He tried to join the military before he was of age (the war) and my grandma took him down to the recruiting agent and laid it out.cheney, lorraine eugene sr 1He was only 16 and she made them tear up the contract. He had to wait till he was 18 and she couldn’t stop him. The war was over by then, but he joined the Army Air Corp anyway.

He was a handsome man, my dad. Also, a jokester. Another story I never forgot was having to dig through the snow to plant flowers for the commander.

He had showed up for revelry with a flower in his lapel. He never said where exactly he found a flower in Greenland, with three feet of snow. But, the CO was not impressed. He told him that since he like flowers so much, he could make a flower bed. Hence, my dad digging through mounded snow in the cold of Greenland, planting rainie

He didn’t learn his lesson, either. There were a few more stories like that. I don’t think he ever shared any of them with my other siblings. Maybe, and they just never spoke of them. Me, I love retelling them. My sons have heard them hundreds of times.



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