It goes with the territory of living still in the place where you spent your childhood. Add to that the forced isolation from the pandemic opening chunks of time to focus on my writing practice, and I am often resurrecting memories of childhood in 1950s.
Our family's camp in the shadow of the now-shuttered Denton Hill State Park on the Nine Mile looms large in those memories, partly because those were happy times, often with several generations of extended family. Ask my brothers and cousins about childhood memories and it's guaranteed all will talk about camp.
It seemed a place of woodland magic, presided over by the kinda cranky old man who sat on the porch with his fly swatter and gigantic portable battery-powered radio, often with the volume way up so he could hear the baseball game. We all knew to be especially careful to cushion the closing of the screen door when we passed by to avoid hearing him growl.
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| Daffodils still grow every spring at the camp along the Nine Mile |
Though he was through with his gardening days when I came along, I remember how he had pointed out to me the snow white daffodil blooms in a sea of yellow in the patch of woods beside the stone steps to the spring house. They seemed especially magical to this child's eyes.
"Daffodils are out in all their splendor. What beautiful flowers they are!" wrote my grandfather in his newspaper column in April of 1947. "The first daffodils of the season opened into bloom at Golly's Folly in the Nine Mile Saturday, and they were beautiful! We picked a bouquet, and for green to go with it, we dug a few leeks. Incongruous! Maybe, but the particular shade of green of the leek is also beautiful. That's one of thee qualities of the leek that we admire."
It was also in 1947, in September, that he wrote:
"We harvested our crop of narcissus and daffodil bulbs. For some years, we have had a great profusion of blooms each springtime. In this case 'we' means Merve Chamberlin, who has a cottage close to our shack, and this scribe.
Would you like a half dozen Striped Chipmunk Brand of Nine Mile grown bulbs? You can surely have 'em for free We'll even pay the postage to mail them to you.
There are no strings on this offer. No matter where you live if you'll write a letter to say you're interested, we'll mail the bulbs. Then we'll hope you will enjoy the beautiful blooms as much as we do.
This is our idea to scatter a little sunshine and brightness into a world too often clouded and drear.
Please do not be bashful. So long as the supply lasts, they are yours for free. Ask for 'em and they'll be mailed promptly. Now is the season for planting."
As would happen should such an offer be made today, my grandfather had lots of responses. Miss Gladys Beebe, RD 3, Coudersport, replies:
"Of course I want some of the Nine Mile daffies, but should you pay the postage?" She went on, "I enjoy the wild life part of your writing. Do you see and hear chewinks? Do deer 'blow' under your windows at night? Do hedgehogs 'rattle" until you get up in self defense and drive them off, 'hunching' in the queerest way? Do you ever see by flashlight your cunning little flying squirrels? And again thanks for bulbs if any are left for me."
The story continues as the columnist writes the next spring:
"Recently Golly asked anyone who received bulbs from this office to please report any blooms. Here's the first letter in response, even if no blossoms have appeared.
Dear Editor: So you wish you wish to hear from your bulbs. I think every one of mine grew. I potted two or three to see if they would not bloom inside this spring; they didn't. So I set them outside in the garden where the others are tall and green. I am hoping that next year I will have something worthwhile to report. I also hope they will be a golden color. P.S. Just heard, for the first time wild turkeys ' 'gobble.' – Gladys Beebe.
The next year she checks in again:
"Three beautiful golden daffodils bloomed in my garden this spring and I think it's the editor I have to thank. This message came on a card from Miss Gladys A. Beebe of R.D. 3.
Fine – we wish there might have been 33 at least."
Family friend Steve Green, who today lovingly stewards the old Beebe place (known in this century as the Southwoods Farm Nature Preserve), reports daffodils still bloom there every spring.
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| Daffodils planted in the Southwoods in 1947 still blooming in 2021 |
Addendum, June 6, 2022
I took a trip to the Nine Mile on Memorial Day Sunday and left a note on the door for today's owners of the Folly. Imagine my surprise when the phone rang on Saturday to offer an invitation to visit the next day. I shared with them old photos from family collections and they shared with me their joy of spending chunks of time in the woods at Golly's little shack for more than 20 years. And the daffodils that bloom there every spring were part of the conversation.
Here's another bit from Golly's Great Daffodil Giveaway (this one from 1954, just after the tragic fire that claimed two young lives and the old camp.)
"Here's an echo from some four or five years ago. At that time we had a surplus of daffodil bulbs and we sent small packages while the supply lasted to all who were interested and asked for them.
We'd sort of forgotten all about those bulbs but now comes a reminder from G.P., Westfield, who renews his subscription saying in part:
'Enclosed find $3.00 for another year. We do not want to miss a single copy. I also want you to know that the bulbs you sent me are in full bloom, and they are beautiful.'
Life can be beautiful.
Life IS beautiful."
