More back roads to the front of my mind
The farm belonged to his grandparents and lies roughly between Station Road on one side and Temple Road on the other. The other two borders of the property are Smith Bridge Road and a nondescript one track railroad, along which a small stream held some errant trout and many creek chubs that helped develop the old man's love for fishing.
The old folks [grand parents] were of the old and proper school that seemed to make children with a firm belief in God and Country. Those people scratched out a living early on but were more successful as transportation improved and they had better ways to get their crops to market. Great Grand Father was once the Secretary of Agriculture for the state of Pennsylvania, but this current old man could not seem to gin up any memories of him.
Grains such as wheat and corn were the primary crops, but mushrooms grew in six or eight buildings. Stopping for a breath and view down hill he wondered which it was....six or eight? They were all gone. He did recall the times when he was allowed to go and help pick that crop,,,,A totally dark room which ran for some fifty yards and housed a half dozen levels of horse manure which was the soil of choice by those famous Pennsylvania mushrooms. The houses were so dark that miner's lamps had to be worn just to see which delicacies to pick. There was also a three acre plot where peonies were grown and in the spring the blooms would be picked, packed and shipped to the markets in Chester and Philadelphia. Asparagus was another of the plants grown for home consumption and the market. And of course there were some thirty to fifty dairy cows milked daily by a tenant. Baling and storing hay and wheat straw was a dirty, dusty and sweaty job in which he had taken part. Following the potato harvester and picking up the spuds was another tedious job he did. At least he was able to pick up garden worms at the same time and that supported his growing fishing habit.
His gaze carried along the field bordered by Smith Bridge, looking west to the first childhood home he could remember. Simply called the "Corner House".
The dwelling that seemed gigantic back in the day, but today would be seen as a Cottage. Remembering that it was up until the third grade that he lived in that home. Today he can see that the acre and half lot is really not the football field sized image of his historic recall. Again there were other memories which bubbled forth.
Looking east past the central barn and over the primary cow pasture there is a low spot and a weathered tree, all that remains of the tenant's home and the old man's first childhood playmates. There was "Jim T", the tenant and almost father figure. Two of his children were Tommy and Herby and he can't remember the rest. Certainly not the girls, because from third grade and younger who needed girls anyway.
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