Old Tyme Menard County....Some Indians Were Here

Old Tyme Menard County Info
I was doing some scouting for history information and came across some interesting information about the Indians which were in Menard County.  This info came from a book called The History of Menard and Mason Counties.  Here's some of what I found:

"On the highest bluff along the Sangamon River, there are to be seen, remains of the works of that strange people called the "Mound Builders".  Many of these mounds have been opened, but no relics of any value have been found.  Stone axes, arrow-heads and spear-heads of flint have been found on the surface ..... and down to 12 foot below the ground .....  When the first settlements were made in the limits of the county, the Indians had almost all been removed; a few still remained in the timber on Indian Creek, in the neighborhood of Indian Point; and two old men with 10 or a dozen relatives remained for some time.  These were Shick-shack and Shambolee .... they moved to a high hill to within a mile of Chandlerville.  Here Shick-shack died and was buried and the hill is still called Shick-shack's Hill.  After he died the rest of the little band left the haunts of pale face and were heard of no more."

Note:  If you have ever gone to Chandlerville using the blacktop out the back side of Oakford, on the left you will see many Indian mounds.  Maybe Shick-shack and Shambolee made these.

Another section described the period clothing.  Here's some of the description:

"Among the early pioneers, everything was plain, simple and in conformity with the strictest economy.  In the very early day the men wore pants and hunting shirts made of buckskin, and caps of coon or fox skin, while both sexes clothed their feet in moccasins.  Cotton goods were extremely hard to get because of the distance ....the greater part was manufactured in Europe. .... Cotton couldn't really grow here due to the climate and short growing season .....  So, after the first year or two, the people began to sow crops of flax or hemp, and this the women spun and wove into a course but substantial and pleasant linen.  Of this underwear was made, dresses for the ladies, towels, table-cloths, etc.  .... Until the crops were ready .... wild nettles..... thousands of yards of linen were made from the nettles by the pioneer settlers in Illinois.  In the year after James Meadows settled in Sugar Grove, his wife spun and wove no less than thirty yards of this nettle linen.  It was strong, serviceable and bleached to an almost snowy whiteness."

Hope this gives you an idea of how much work our early settlers had to do to accomplish clothing themselves.  I'm glad we can go to the store and buy what we need in our period of time.  When the Greenview area was settled, there were many different precincts.....with the primary ones being Greenview, Sugar Grove and Indian Creek.  Those precincts still exist in today in determining precinct voting for elections.  In coming posts, I will be using passages from this very old history book to show you the life of the settlers in the various precincts.

Death
A longtime resident and former teacher, Linda Korte, died Sunday.  Our condolences to the family.

Don't Forget
Don't forget Daisy's Angels Golf Outing, Friday, July 8,  9:30am, Country Hills Golf Course.  This is such a worthwhile effort to raise money to purchase school items for underprivileged kids.  In memory of a longtime resident, Daisy Duncan.

What's To Eat At Our House Tonight
It's back to the car dealership for the third round of warranty work today (hmpfffff).  So.....I had to come up with something easy and quick.  Tuna Noodle Casserole is my answer.  Boil about 3/4 of a sack of dried noodles and drain.  Mix these noodles with 1 can of Mushroom Soup and 2 cans of Undrained Tuna and 1/2 can of drained peas.....mix it up and put it in a Pam sprayed casserole dish and sprinkle some crushed potato chips on top for crunch.  Bake at 350 degrees for about 30-45 minutes or until it begins to get brown.  Serve with a lettuce salad with tomatoes and any other veggies you have.  Heat up the rest of the peas and use as a side dish.  (I don't like peas much so I only use a 1/2 can in the casserole....you can use a whole can if you like them and want lots of peas).  This is a cheap and easy meal if you like tuna.  And, if you use lower sodium mushroom soup and omit the potato chips, it's fairly healthy.  Happy Eating.

Continuing Story......

The first post relative to this "continuing story" was made on July 4, 2011.  This is a true story, using mostly journals and diaries from my younger years.  The subject is the fear of death that I had as a child.

Chapter 2

I remember my mama so well. I found my secret diary from my middle and high school years. On one of the pages, I had written the following paragraphs about my mama:

“When I was a younger child, I remember crawling up on this lady’s lap and hugging for all I was worth. She had short curly hair and the clean smell of soap. She would always hug me and pat my hair and rock her body while I was lying in her lap. She was a jokester and a comedian and would laugh and laugh. I wish you could have seen her when she played her ukulele and danced the jig. And when my grandpa played his harmonica or fiddle, she stood beside him while grandma plunked on the piano. As the years passed, she became ill and couldn’t do much of anything but she could still hug and pat my hair or braid my hair as I sat beside her on her bed. And, the smile never left her face until the day she died. She never complained much either, but I know she was sad because she couldn’t get up and do lots of things with us kids. This grand lady was my mama. But when I was age 12 I had to say goodbye. But I still remember her smell and can sometimes feel her arms abound me, especially when I sit at her place at the kitchen table. I now ride my bike to visit her at her grave and sit and talk a while and take flowers to her grave. What peace she must enjoy being among the trees, with the sky above where she can watch the hummingbirds and the butterflies. She hasn’t been gone a long while so I still miss her, but I sit and admire her nameplate upon her door to heaven and tell her I miss you mama.”

I had questions in my mind about how my mom felt in the years, months, days and hours before she died. Did she know that she was going to die. Did something tell her or was she oblivious to the fact that death was approaching at an early date in her life. I would never know because I never really talked to her about dying except for asking her if she was going to die. I was too young. Even when people get older, most people don’t want to and don’t talk to their parents about death these days, unless the parents are diagnosed with a terminal illness or unless they are getting really old. Then the talk is to learn the parent’s desire about which funeral home, cremation or burial, etc. The talk doesn’t center around how do you really feel about death mom and dad. And the questions don’t ask “do you know you are dying”.

"My name is really not important because I know my own name. I live in a very small town in central Illinois situated on a state highway or “hard road“ as we all call this highway. I guess we call it “hard road” because it’s made out of concrete. I know what it’s made from and how they did it, because I watched those fellows build this road back a ways. When that building was going on, I loved going to my dad’s tenant house to sit in the yard to watch those huge machines dig the earth for the bed of the “hard road”.
 
"Today is my first day in the 7th grade. I am officially a big shot middle school kid in the middle of the corn belt. The town is about as small as a town could get. In fact, I don’t think it really qualifies as a town, as it’s called a village. Now that is small. The village is surrounded by corn and bean fields with pigs and cows thrown in for good measure. My dad is a farmer on the south side of town but we don‘t live in the country. I know my dad’s southtown fields well as I have walked everyone of those buggers, either cutting weeds out of beans or picking up orphaned ears of corn after the field was harvested. I’ve been driving a tractor since I was about 8 years old and I learned to drive a stick shift grain truck when I was age 10. My dad wanted me to learn to drive his trucks so he took me to the pasture and said "I’m going home on that tractor and if you want to get home, you drive this truck home. You’ve seen me drive this so you should know how to do it.” It took me about 2 hours to learn how to drive around that pasture and to get brave enough to drive home, but I did it and have been driving ever since. Hauling grain to the elevator is a way of life for a farmer’s kid long before becoming license eligible. But there isn’t a town cop and the sheriff is a family friend, so he turns his head to farmers’ kids driving because it is the way of life here in Podunk Illinois."

"Home is where everyone drives pick-up trucks because they want to. Sure a four wheel drive truck helps in the middle of winter when there is snow on the ground, but even though we complain that we’ve had a bad winter, it usually means it’s been cold and not that we had 4 feet of snow. A pick-up is a fun thing because you can go mudding down at the “crick” or you can haul some bricks for a fireplace or maybe haul the big dog around in the back. And once the local sixteen year olds get their license, the rest of the kids can hop in the back for a fun night of cruising the streets of the old hometown. But they don’t let little kids like me in the back. I always hear “get away kid”, you’re too little. I always say, “But I can drive a big grain truck with a dual low gear, now you tell me I’m too young”. I always hear “Shoo-fly, go away”.

"I don’t have a big brother because mine died before I was born. Something to do with a water head and maybe something named leukemia, whatever that is. But I could be wrong, because that was many years before I came along. His name was Bobby and he was 3 years old. That isn’t fair that I couldn’t know my brother. Thinking about Bobby makes it comes to mind, that I wanted to be there to hold his hand and ask him if he knew that he was going to die. I wonder if he cried at night knowing that our mama wouldn’t be there to hold him when he was sick or when he was hungry or when he just wanted to be held. Did he feel that desire to have his mama once he was dead? Or, maybe dead people don’t have that feeling that they want to be held. Does anyone know the answer about feeling things after you die, or, do people only feel things before they die. At my ripe age of 12, I have lots of questions about this. Those people who read the Bible say it’s fun to be dead, but I say, if you haven’t died, you can’t know."


....Please come back to see a new post under the Continuing Story ....  Be sure to read the blog each day so that you don't miss any episode in the life of the young Greenview girl who was afraid of death.  This story is a true story.

Thought For The Day

To find yourself,

think for yourself.

--Socrates

The answer to the mystery of life is sought by every living person.  Can you unlock this mystery?  What happens if you do solve the answer....is that the time your life ceases?   I certainly don't know.  But I know I sure have lots of questions about a lot of things.  But for this day I must be in the midst of my living soul.  Each day I will get up from bed and cook, eat, clean and do millions of little things, then at night and after I have refreshed my body and soul,  I will once again start the clock in the next day in the chain of evolution ... I will do things over again and the very next day after that I will also do the same thing.  Small things change....my life cycle doesn't.  From a Greenviewanite to another....have a good day.  Keep on smiling!