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Sidehill Vermonters (standard:non fiction, 1822 words)
Author: Lou HillAdded: Apr 02 2002Views/Reads: 3808/2463Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
A look at some true Vermonters. My favorite story and I think the best one I have written
 



Click here to read the first 75 lines of the story

left home, she built all fires, split wood, hauled ashes and cleaned 
sooty stovepipes as well as handling  all the other household chores. 

When my parents divorced, I lived with my grandmother and
great-grandmother for a few years just prior to WWII.  Each night I 
would eagerly await her return from school.  I would stand in the 
living room, nose pressed against the window, waiting for her to turn 
the corner in the road.  My grandmother always walked to and from 
school; she did not drive and rarely got a ride even in the coldest 
weather. 

I can remember her coming around the corner on bitter cold days, a heavy
basket of books and papers for correction in one hand, a bag of 
groceries clasped in the other arm.  She would stagger into the house, 
shivering and barely able to move, lips blue with cold.  She would 
never wear slacks to protect her birdlike legs.  As far as she was 
concerned, it wasn't appropriate for a woman to wear pants. 

She had a tremendous impact on her students, turning out many successful
individuals.  For many years, one of her students would be either 
valedictorian or salutatorian of the graduating class at Enosburg Falls 
High School.  When she finally retired in 1956, she received hundred of 
cards and letter from former students.  The underlying theme of all of 
them was the positive influence she had on their lives. 

Sidehill Vermonters come by the family too.  When I was growing up my
closest friend was Wendall Corron.  Wendall was the youngest of six 
children.  His father, Fred was a blacksmith.  He made a living in a 
time when it cost $2.00 to shoe a horse. I doubt you can buy the nails 
for that price now. 

The Corron's had a cow, a huge garden and usually raised a pig or two. 
Mrs. Corron made the greatest homemade sausage I have ever eaten.  Even 
now my mouth waters at the thought of it.  Wendell did his share.  He 
was always bringing home fish or game for the family table.  I hunted 
and fished for the fun of it, for Wendall it was serious business.  As 
soon as he was old enough, he got a job at the local store stocking 
shelves. All four of Wendall's sisters as well as his brother worked 
their way through college.  Two became teachers (my grandmother's 
influence) and one a nurse.  Everyone in the family did what they had 
to do to overcome the obstacles they found along the way and to get on 
with their lives. 

The Garrett family who lived next door to my Grandmother Hill for many
years were Sidehill Vermonters too.  When he was sixteen, Wareth 
"Buster" Garrett's father died leaving him responsible for the family, 
which included his mother as well as an infant brother, and for the 
operation of their small farm. 

Jasper Wright, Principal at Enosburg Falls High School, made a rare
concession and allowed Buster to arrange his schedule so that he could 
do the morning chores, arriving at school around ten o'clock.  Buster 
managed to find time to participate in sports as well as taking part in 
many other school activities while continuing to run the farm. After 
they married, Buster and his wife Lillian ran a milk route.  Lil could 
sling a full 10-gallon milk can up on the back of the truck as easily 
as any man could. \ In the book "Real Vermonters Don't Milk Goats," 
Bill Mares and Frank Bryant write about "real Vermont kids."  One of 
their descriptions of a young girl, her feet incased in rubber "barn 
boots," wading in a deep puddle brings back memories of Avis, Buster 
and Lil's daughter.  After a heavy summer shower I would often see her 
in a pair of black rubber boots which came up to knees, happily wading 
in a big mud puddle.  Avis, like Mares and Bryant's real Vermont kid, 
needed no expensive toys to amuse herself. 

One other memory of Avis is still indelibly imprinted in my mind.  I was
six years old, a first grader in the elementary school in the village 
of Enosburg Falls.  For some reason I was not in school, we might have 
had a different schedule than the town schools.  For whatever reason I 
was spending the week with my grandmother and great-grandmother. 

My grandmother had already left for school when Avis, who would have
been a third grader, came along on her way to school.  Somehow we came 
up with the bright idea that I should accompany her to school and visit 
her classroom.  I managed to convince my great-grandmother Austin that 
this was a good idea and off we trekked. 

By that time, West Enosburg had a two-room schoolhouse.  Dorothy Preston
was the teacher for grades 1 through 4 and my grandmother taught the 
upper four.  As I recall, Mrs. Preston was not overjoyed to see me.  
She had a full room and there were no extra desks.  Avis quickly 
volunteered to let me share her seat, sharing came naturally to her. We 
made it through the morning session uneventfully. My grandmother was 
made aware of my presence at recess time and, like Mrs. Preston, was 
far from elated with my visit. 

The first problem arose at lunch time.  Avis and I had neglected to tell
my great-grandmother that I would be staying all day. Consequently I 
had brought nothing to eat.  Since my grandmother packed only half a 
sandwich and little else in her lunch tin, I had a problem. 

Once again in her unselfish way, Avis offered to share with me. She
opened her lunch pail and presented me with half of her sandwich.  
Wolfing down a large bite, I was dismayed to find that her sandwich 
consisted of two slices of bread and mayonnaise. That was it!  No meat 
or any other filler. 

I don't recall exactly what I said, but I do remember that I was quite
upset with the lack of a more substantial lunch.  I was too 
self-centered to realize just how generous Avis had been in sharing her 
meager lunch with me. 

There are still many Sidehill Vermonters around.  I see them every day:
my barber, a former teacher, the fellow who plows my driveway.  They, 
and others like them, have adapted to the steep hills and valleys of 
life, overcoming the obstacles in their paths, moving on without 
tipping over. 

Enosburg Falls, VT April, 1994 

Authors note: On January 9th, 1997 Avis Garrett Gervais was appointed to
fill the term of Representative Madeline Manahan in the Vermont House 
of Representatives.  She easily won re-election to a full term in 1998 
and again in 2000. 

Palmetto, Florida March, 2002 


   


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