15 years of dust on this post

Independence Day at Miss Debbie’s
(7-4-1994)

Well, I’m back in the city again. Fresh from a family reunion at my sister Deb.’s house over in Illinois. A reunion to beat all reunions, and I lived to tell about it. We took the kids and went down to my Mom & Dads house late Friday afternoon to get into the holiday spirit. My mother’s Uncle George Monroe was there with his wife from Nebraska. We talked until late in the evening, and just before he went to bed I found out that George had been a Plant Engineer almost all of his life. This is what I currently do, and compared to him I am a polliwog. The technologies have changed, but the dynamics of factory life stay the same from generation to generation. George is a humble, yet very able person who is very old and is losing his eyesight. I truly enjoyed his stories.

Saturday morning we headed up to my sister Debbie Joy’s farmhouse in Geneseo Illinois. (About an hour and a half from Mom & Dads.) I was looking forward to having the kind of fun you can only have with your relatives. They share inside jokes that would not be funny outside of the situation, but under the circumstances are really fun. People have always said about the Forrester clan; “They really know how to have a good time”

All of my brothers and sisters that I wanted to see were there. My brother Bill had my mothers’ sister Arlene, her husband, her brother Dick and his wife Barb, staying with him in Galesburg. The women of that group were there, but the men were golfing in the Quad cities, and hadn’t shown up yet. My brother-in-law Bob (Debbie Joy’s husband) was there so I had a pal right off. He is just three days younger than me, and we have always got along great. Friendship with most people seems to grow and wane depending on how far we live apart. I never feel this way about family. My brother Mark and his wife Sharon, and their seven (soon to be eight) children were staying with my youngest natural brother Jeff in Galesburg. Jeff is married to a very nice lady named Michelle, and they have a three or four year old adopted son. That crew was there when we got there, and things were beginning to percolate. Earl (my younger brother) and his wife Roxanne were there with their five-year-old son Brandon and drove up just after us. My brother Casey and his new wife showed up on Sunday. My Aunt Arlene’ oldest son Lee and his new wife Myra were up from Tennessee. My Uncle Dick from Kansas City (who was staying with Bill) had his son Rich down from Detroit. He had brought his girlfriend, and I suspect this may have overwhelmed her a little. My parents, Bills kids and ex-wife and it was a quorum.

We sat outside at my sisters beautiful farm. We talked and ate. We ate and talked. Bob had roasted a pig, and everybody brought way too much food. This crew of ladies have no peers when it comes to putting on a feed. I believe they call each other ahead of time to see what each other is bringing, and then try to out do each other with their specialties. Between the food and the company of good friends we sat in lawn chairs, and little nooks of the farm until the small hours of the evening, and enjoyed each precious minute.

When that many people get together lodging is an event all by itself. People were sleeping on the floor of anyone who lived remotely close. Deb. had made arrangements at a nearby motel for a block of rooms for those who could afford it. We chose that, because I am not good with a sleeping bag on the floor, even with close friends. The motel was called the “Deck”. I had never looked at the motels in Geneseo before, so I just assumed the name meant a deck like you might find around a pool, or a patio. It meant like a deck of cards. It apparently was the brainchild of a mason who had hit it big at one of the riverboat casinos. The place was huge. Built entirely out of masonry and cinder blocks. To take the chill out of the concrete he had furnished the walls with carpeting from the 1960’s. Privacy is not a concern with walls like that. The rooms were big, although I did have the impression that I was in the dressing room for the pool at summer camp. Well, I slept well enough, and morning brought new adventures. We met Lee and Myra down at the motel restaurant, and were treated to choices like “Full House”, “Blitz”, and the ever popular “Dealers Choice”. I did get tired of trying to explain the food references to our kids. The food was good, and afterward Lee and Myra went down to the First Baptist Church where we were treated to a service by traveling, singing, and musically entertainingly evangelists. It was very Baptist. We enjoyed it, and then went on out to the farm.

Once again, food was being prepared, and a group of guys was just getting back from the golf course up the road that Bob belongs to. Some were recovering from a late night soiree to the gambling boats at the river. I believe they all lost money except Billy. He does have a knack at that. I believe he calls it the bad bearing theory. The food was on, and the flies came out for war. They attacked in formation at first, but later broke up into individual dogfights, sort of like Corsairs, and P51 Mustangs in WW2. (Did I mention this was on a farm)? After food, some sitting to recover, and some small talk, the adults made it around the house to where Bob had set up volleyball net. He had marked the grass neatly with red spray paint to make a perfect playing field. A couple of games in the heat, and everyone looked like they were ready to expire. The family is competitive, so no one was giving up short of a heat stroke.

On the other side of the house mischief was afoot. My son Gabriel had had the extraordinary foresight to bring a water balloon launcher, and had recruited a small company of guerrillas for an attack on the old people. He had deployed this machine out of sight behind a hedgerow, and munchkins were busy building an impressive arsenal of water balloons. The first balloon fell short of the playing field, and water sort of splashed about the feet of the back players. They were so intent on the game that they couldn’t quite figure what was happening at first. In the short confusion, the bush gang moved forward with as many water grenades as they could carry. They charged. Met the enemy. And years of discipline from these people jumped into their minds. The attack stopped midway across the yard, and the little people changed direction and fled. This had really only been a diversion set up by the command post, and it created the confusion necessary to get the artillery into affect. It began to hail water balloons. Old bald men with bellies over their belts saw a chance to escape from the rigors of the playing field with no loss of honor, and the fight was on. No one escaped unscathed. Some people were even taken bodily by the little bandits out of the house, and dunked outside. Well, no one and nowhere was safe after that. The next thirty minutes of mayhem was as entertaining as any pay per view event I have ever attended.

The day went on, and we ate and we talked. We talked and we ate. It was purely the fun I had been seeking. My cousin Rich and I found a couple of Debbie’s kids moto bikes, and tore up the ditches for a while. Deb. got mad, and told me her kids didn’t even know that those bikes could do those things. My mom came up to me later and said she had overheard the funniest thing from some children. She said she heard them say “ Come quick, there are a couple of old fat guys in suspenders acting like kids on motorbikes” I know my mom thought this was funny, but it did put me in my place. Mom enjoyed seeing all of her children and grandchildren, and went from one to another each day like a bee pollinating her flowers. As the evening wore on Debbie informed us that she had rented the pool at the golf course up the road for the evening. Snap your fingers, and twenty some children were in swimming suits lined up by the cars, screaming for parents to hurry up. A lifeguard came with the pool, so it was carefree for the adults. We sat around the pool drinking beer, and watching cousins’ dunk each other. My kids chose to sleep this last night on the trampoline in Bob’s yard with their friends. We went back to the motel, and at least woke up able to travel home the next day. I hope everyone had as much fun as I did. The truth is, you can’t have any more fun than that without getting arrested. I hope it happens again soon.

Steve Forrester