Wednesday, December 17, 2014

Tin Roof Shanty

I began by writing memories of stories that my Dad and Chuck had told me over the years, for my descendants. I wanted them to know something about their ancestors. Except for the stories they told me I have had to dig for the rest.

I joined Ancestory.com and started chasing dead and living relatives, set up my Tree and began to fill in blanks. There are still blanks, and I have been at it steadily since 1996.

After Chuck passed away I just didn’t know where I belonged for a long time, and no place I tried to live satisfied. I eventually bought a derelict place on Kissmequick Island and began to rebuild it. It was a one bedroom trailer with a huge room built on. Most on my friends thought I had lost my mind.

I had it stripped out inside and put in a new bathroom, and kitchen sink and cupboards. I also had built onto it a huge deck which overlooked the Eastern Shore, the view was awesome especially the sun rises and moon rises, I had the whole place wrapped with cypress, all new windows, and a new roof over with tin.

During the process of rebuilding it, the Lord was rebuilding me. I was learning to live one day at a time without the physical presence of my husband in my life, and it was most difficult!

Before he passed on, he made me promise that I would write a book about my life and some of the things I have overcome. I had every excuse in the book and then some, but he had an answer for every one of them.

My last year in High School was 1954, I have forgotten everything I had ever learned about English, Grammar and especially Punctuation.

I did not know how to type, never learned how to in High School, I did have a typewriter with letters on the keys, but I could only do the two finger hunt and peck, still do, but I have picked up some speed with this method.

After the little cottage was finished I moved in, as my mind began to settle somewhat I filled five legal pads in cursive writing with memories. And as you write them down; more are stirred up.

I went over to Orlando, and Nick & Theresa took me shopping for a computer, very scary! Chas, one of my five granddaughters was in school at U of F came on weekends and taught me a lot.

I named my little cottage my “Tin Roof Shanty” my friend Carmen Day Williams painted this on a drift board for me and I hung it out front in a big oak tree. It was so peaceful living there I will eventually show photos. I don't have any in my computer at this time.

Brown Pelican Restaurant Dock Street
Cedar Key Florida
photo by Florida Memory

The reason I named it “Tin Roof Shanty” was a friend, John Starr living on the island at that time wrote the music for an anonymous poem that was found written on a placemat at the Brown Pelican Restaurant in Cedar Key. I had always thought that John Starr wrote the lyrics and the music, but I have been told by several that he only wrote the music.

It is a beautiful ballad of the struggle to maintain the old island ways, and flavor, with the new development that was beginning to happen.

Another friend Shelton Irwin recorded it, and it was, and is one of my favorites. After Shelton recorded it, Bertie Higgins recorded it.

Whoever wrote the poem had some personal knowledge of the people of Cedar Key and how they made their living. I for one am very grateful that it was written and put to music and recorded, for all to enjoy. 

I tried to put in a link so everyone could hear Shelton's version, but I could not get it to work. Neither could Tom who came by to help me with it.

John Shelton Irwin
performing onstage of the Gazebo
that he played and sang at various fund
raisers to help build this Gazebo in the Cedar Key Park
I just learned today 12-15-14 that Shelton passed away a couple of days ago. He was a dear friend, and will be sorely missed by many. I dedicate this story that I wrote some time ago, in memory of Shelton Irwin.

The Tin Roof Shanty is where I was living when I had the first stroke in 2002 and I had to move away. Could not go back because of health issues, and sadly;I had to sell it!

The point of this story is;  over a period of time I became addicted to writing stories. After the first stroke; writing memories became a therapy. I suppose I will continue just as long as I can because I love what I do.

I would encourage everyone who doesn't already; to write your memories of your family stories for your descendents, the stories are a storehouse of treasure.