Re-travelled trails

This week one of my sons and two daughters returned to the Thornton home area in Taney County to attend the funeral of Lester’s brother Paul Thornton who had died at 99 years of age in the Veteran’s Home at Mt. Vernon. Mo. His death left only their sister, Opal, from the Harve and Jenny Thornton family that farmed near Ocie, Mo., in the early 1900s.

Because Paul had been a popular Uncle for our children, they wanted to attend the services for him. I was fond of my brother-in-law and wanted to see Opal again since she is in the same position that I am. Each of us is the only one left of our original families.

Neither of us has any siblings left and we are grandmothers to most of our relatives.

I had been familiar with that area from visits and for a couple months after Lester was discharged from the Army before he went back to the University of Missouri. I had recently graduated while Lester was in the Army. That was in the 1940s. Only a few primary roads were graveled, none were paved and many roads were just dirt roads. It took some adjustment for me to learn my way around and meet a few neighbors.

Since that time roads have been paved, little one-store towns, such as Ocie, Mo., had been left empty and retirees had returned to the area and new people came along with the construction of the lakes.

There remain some un-kept native homes, as well as those that had been kept nicely through the years and new ones built by new or renewed residents.

Our carload was arriving from Nevada and others were closer to the church where the service was held. We came down familiar roads through Springfield, and Forsythe. The roads from there on had been paved but they had not been straightened. Mile after mile of beautiful scenery was covered by the constantly twisting road as I tried to remember this place from my earlier stay in the area.

Hilda, Rueter, and many other small, nearly empty towns, were recalled as we came by, constantly turning. We finally could see the church in the distance and found a group of their former neighbors had prepared a feast for all of Paul’s relative and friends.

Cousins got acquainted for the first time in their adult lives, and Opal and I told each other about our families. Everywhere memories of Paul were shared and even the food was chosen to be what he always had liked.

After the meal we went upstairs in the church to pay our respects and sing Paul’s favorite hymn, “There Will be Peace in the Valley.” The Salem General Baptist Church was full of relatives, and friends. The relatives and friends included bowling buddies, hunters, bluegrass fans, farmers and hard workers of every kind. They were reluctant to say their goodbyes, but were enjoying conversation with each other as they learned to know this mutual friend or relative better through the short time together.

Another short trip to the Lutie Cemetery where our hearts were warmed by seeing the stone where his beloved wife, Doris, was joined by her husband. The service was highlighted by military rites including the ceremonial folding of the flag, taps played by the bugler, seven riflemen honoring with three shots of honor.

The groups scattered in each direction, promising future visits to each other, exchanging addresses and phone numbers while facing trips home over those same winding roads. They seemed to go faster now that we had these new memories of relatives. The sun stayed behind the fluffy clouds even when we had to turn west.

The roads were now paved with memories.