SMELLING THE SKUNK TOGETHER [W, 8-26-16]

CHRIST IN WINTER: The Irrelevant Reminiscences of An Old Man—SMELLING THE SKUNK TOGETHER [W, 8-26-16]

 

We opened the bed room window last night. A rare treat, since the summer has been so hot and humid. That is, it was a treat until I woke up in the middle of the night and got a whiff of that unmistakable odor. It brought to mind an oft-told family story, of when Aunt Helen, my father’s only sister, shook Uncle Harvey out of a deep sleep and said, “Harvey, there’s a skunk. Wake up and smell the skunk.”

It’s important to have someone to smell the skunk with you, and

Harvey Bell was the kind of guy everyone counted on whenever something unpleasant was going down.

I don’t know if my father and Harvey were friends first, and that’s how Harvey and Helen met, or if they were already dating and that’s how Harvey and my father became friends. One of the problems of being the almost-over-the-cliff generation in a family, there is no one left that I can ask.

John Francis and Helen Beatrice were not only siblings, they were friends. They even joined the Ku Klux Klan together. [1]

Helen was the second of seven children [2] and John was the third. Their mother gave them lots of opportunities to care for younger siblings. They bonded over that.

When my parents decided to get married, they had to do it secretly, because Mother was in her last semester of high school. In 1928, a married girl was automatically banished from school, for fear she might tell the virgins about sex. [3] So they went to Boonville and got married by the Methodist preacher in his parsonage. [4] The two couples had often double-dated, so Harvey and Helen went with them as witnesses.

Harvey and Helen had only one child, Elizabeth Ann, whom I called Zibby Ahn when I was little. Maybe because they had grown up with lots of siblings, they felt that Liz’s cousins should be sort of included in their family, to give her the feeling of brothers and sisters. For whatever reason, they were always exceptionally nice to me and my sisters and brother, affirming and supportive in every way.

I had so many wonderful uncles and aunts. One of the blessings of my life was that large extended family. Harvey and Helen were a big part of that.

But I’ve known lots of people who had no one who stood by them the way my larger family members did. But they got through difficult childhoods because they had one adult who served as a model for them.

That’s what the psychologists say is necessary—just one adult you can count on. One high-achieving man told me that his childhood was made bearable by a scout master, the only person who believed in him.  

So, whether you have many or only one, give thanks for those folks who gave your life meaning when you were young. Give thanks for those who were willing to smell a skunk with you.

John Robert McFarland

1] They were around junior high age and went to the county fair together. The KKK had a tent there, and kids could join for only a penny. Indiana in the 1920s was a total Klan state, with even the governor marching in “white pride” parades.

2] Grandma had seven children, but raised eight. Genevieve was four when her step-mother, new wife of Grandma’s brother, threw her out, and Grandma took her in.

3] I’ve told many times of how Mother was the first woman in the state of Indiana to graduate high school with her married name because the school superintendent in the tiny town of Francisco, Indiana was unusually enlightened for the time, and said it was stupid to throw a good student out of school just because she got married.

4] They got married in Boonville because it was in Warrick County. They lived in Gibson County, and figured no one would find out. But someone saw the notice in the Boonville newspaper…