I Remember Trenton: Homemade Bread and So Much More!

By Mary Holt
I grew up in a wonderful family. There were six kids with 13 years between the oldest and the youngest. We had wonderful great hardworking parents.
Dad farmed for others for a few years, did some other jobs and then became a railroader, of course for the Rock Island. He was a fireman and then an engineer.
Mom was a very hardworking lady. She cooked, cleaned, sewed, did mountains of laundry, raised huge gardens and canned many things, besides taking care of six children and Dad.
But all of us dearly loved her homemade bread. The smell was something that you never forget. We would come home from school just as she got the loaves out of the oven. She would slice it, put homemade butter on each slice and then sprinkle each slice with sugar. That was like eating dessert, only better.
When Mom died at the age of 86 from a broken hip, she had a loaf of bread she had baked the day before.
Sonna took the loaf home with her, sliced it, shellacked it and decorated each slice with a tiny flower. She gave each of her siblings a slice, which I still have in my china cabinet.
When my twin brother Terry and I were three, sister Sonna was five, Dale was seven and Duane was 13, we moved into the town of Tindall, right on Main Street across from the Farmers Exchange. This is where our little brother, Novy, was born.
There was a beautiful house next door to our house. A doctor, Dr. Lowrey and his wife lived there. Dr. Lowrey was blind, but he still went to see people in their homes. His wife always took him and assisted him with his patients.
One day Terry and I disappeared. Our mother had looked and called but could not find us. Other people were looking, too. Mrs. Lowrey heard a noise at her front door and went to see what it could be. There, stuck between the screen door and front door were Terry and I. Somehow we had got the screen locked and could not get out. Our mother was so thankful we were found safe and sound.
We never did that again.
Our family moved to Trenton when Terry and I were five. Sonna was seven. We would be going to Brainerd School. Our older brothers were going to junior high and high school. Little Novy was only two.
We moved into a house next door to an elderly lady who did not like children. She would yell at us when we came outside to play. She claimed that part of our yard was really hers. One day when we were playing in the yard, she came out with a rifle in her hands and started yelling at us to get out of her yard. Our mother came up behind her with a glass milk bottle in her hand and swung it at her, knocking her flat. Was she dead?
The sheriff at that time was Homer Mullins. He lived across the street from us. He came over, looked at the lady, and said “She got just what she deserved.” He told our mother if she got fined, he would pay the fine.
Shortly after that we moved to a different neighborhood. We had really nice neighbors all around. I hope no one moved into the other house with children.
Let Us Hear From You! Persons who have a memory to share about any topic related to Trenton and the surrounding area are asked to do so by e-mailing the Republican-Times newspaper at [email protected]. Stories should include the writer’s name, address and telephone number. Stories will appear periodically in the newspaper.