100 Years: Archie K. McBeth

Today would have been my maternal grandfather's 100th birthday.

Archie King McBeth was born to Zac and Estella McBeth on January 15, 1919, north of Martinsburg, Iowa. It was, and continues to be, a small (just under 300 people at the time of his birth), humble farming community. He was the 9th of 13 children. As a young man, he served in the US Army during World War II driving military vehicles in Europe. An experience he was rightly proud of, but never boisterous about.

After the army and over the years, he became the father of 5 girls and 1 boy. All of them were precious to him and a great source of pride, as were his grandchildren and great-grandchildren. He also had a beautiful and tender love for my grandmother. He never ceased to be amazed by her ability to whip up a meal from nothing when guests arrived unexpectedly. And she made the best pies in the world in his opinion.

Grandpa was very involved with his church for most of his life, serving in church leadership for many years. His dedication to God, and Christ's teachings, was inspirational. He and my grandmother gave regularly and generously of their time and financial resources to their church. This doesn't mean he hesitated to speak up when he felt that things weren't being done right. This passion was reflected in his activity with his union at John Deere, where he retired from in 1976. Several of my favorite memories as a young child are of union activities that we attended when he was a retiree. His union brothers and sisters were a second family for him.

His generation of my family was, in my opinion, an glass half empty group. They were raised during the harsh realities of the depression and reserved in joy. It made the times when they smiled and laughed all the more precious. It also made them a close family. There were many family reunions over the years, always well attended. I guess that's not hard considering Great Grandpa and Grandma had almost 60 grandchildren that lived to adulthood. In his last years of life, Grandpa spoke with his youngest sister at least once a day.

Grandpa could always be counted on for encouragement and good advice. As I implied before, he wasn't shy about sharing his opinion. I had the privilege of living with him for a few months as a young adult. I credit my ability to make gravy to this time together and we had many conversations at the kitchen table. Like so many of us, I didn't ask the questions I should have, but I remember my interpretation of his essence nonetheless. Stand up for your beliefs. Never throw stones. Treat people well. Give what you can.

In June of 1999, at the age of 80 1/2, he passed away 25 hours after my grandmother. She had spent the last 6 years of her life in a nursing home following a debilitating stroke. His commitment to her never wavered. He visited regularly and purchased a wheelchair accessible van so they could still go on adventures together. He was proud that he had made it to 80 years of age, but I have no doubt that he was also ready to go when she did.

Even after almost 20 years, I still miss him quite often. Many of my beliefs and how I live is due to his influence. And, bringing a smile to my face, someone made me realize just a couple of weeks ago that I have "McBeth" knuckles. It's appropriate that, judge willing, next month I take his name as my own.

Thank you for all of the memories, Grandpa. And fooey, if you're not making me cry!

Spoiled

For those of you that know my mother, you know that she has always done for my siblings and me first. Looking back on my childhood, I can give so many examples of times that she put us ahead of all of her needs and wants. She made sure we saw as much of the United States as possible through yearly summer vacations. She supported us in all we wanted to do in school. And she gave us the most amazing holidays a kid could ever dream of (at least a naive, rural kid). I don't ever remember her saying "I want," except when us kids would squabble and she wanted us to get along. I'm not sure that one counts though.

Tonight I was reminded fondly of her selflessness, as I prepared goulash for Matt and me. As so many of you know, I despise beans of pretty much any kind. Can't explain it, just do. So when mom made her version of goulash, which contained beans, she would save some out for me before adding the beans. I'm including a picture of our goulash just after I added our home-canned tomatoes. The art of canning is another gift my mom and grandmothers gave me. Thank you Mom, for all the gifts, large and small. It seems that those that were the smallest then, are the largest now.

Community

Many of you have heard that the boys and I are getting The Chicken Ranch ready to sell. We took up residence 6 years ago in May and it's been quite the adventure. We've had 6 Autumn Galas, a few birthday parties, many Oscar viewings, game nights, family gatherings and whatever else we could coax our friends and family out to the country for. We've put thousands of hours into the inside of the house, the outside property and the many inhabitants that we've shared our little piece of earth with. It's been absolutely amazing, but when the right buyer comes along, whether it be tomorrow or in 3 years,

we will be on our way out making room for the next country bumpkins to settle in and make it their own.

Where next for us though. As a genealogist I think about communities and how they are comprised a great deal. But as we look to where our next home will be I'm drawn to a deeper contemplation. In the years before online technology and traveling was so easy our communities, while no less complicated than they might be today, were defined primarily by geography. You relied on the people in your geographic area at the very least for sustenance but more often for socialization and leisure companionship, and as I watch Chocolat, one of my favorite movies while writing this, judgement! Today we need our neighbors for none of these, with the wonders of Amazon, Peapod and dining delivery we can have absolutely anything delivered to our doors within a day or two. Most of us can find a 24 convenience store or grocery store within 20 minutes of our homes. The days of going to the neighbors to borrow a cup of sugar are gone. For leisure we can use the internet to communicate with people about our favorite hobbies and to play our favorite games. And for judgement, there is Facebook! For in-person socialization we think little of driving minutes, hours, a day to visit friends and family when we are so motivated.

So how does one choose where to make their home? One of the reasons we would like to sell The Chicken Ranch is so that we can be closer to our friends and family and moreover have more time to spend with them. But as we try and decide where that will be we're reminded that they are all over. So then do we position ourselves closest to the majority of them, to those that we most enjoy dining with, to those with shared hobbies. Or do we be environmentally responsible and position ourselves closest to our work where we travel daily. Perhaps we find a home in a neighborhood that represents a piece of our identity such as the gayborhood or a gardening community. How do you define community?

A tribute to my in-laws

This was a hard long weekend. I helped my in-laws pack up their house for selling. I don't think they know what their home has meant to me. Before this makes sense you need to understand a couple of things. One, I'm a romantic and a dreamer. My head never turns off. Two, I was raised in a 12 x 68 house trailer. My Mom and Dad gave us a wonderful childhood and going home to this day means a trip to their house in Iowa even though they bought a new, larger house my freshman year in college. And honestly I don't ever remember wishing for my own room (just as my sisters shared a tiny bedroom so did my brother and I). But growing up in those small quarters as a child left me dreaming of a home that I would own someday where my siblings and their families could come together for Christmas (my favorite holiday). In 1996, my partner J walked into my life and I quickly found that his parents were much like my parents and made Christmas a big deal. It was a time of family and traditions. And they had the house to match! Lots of room to spread out for the whole family, a fireplace and his Mom and Dad always had everything magically decorated. Even at times other than Christmas over the last 17 years this has become my home away from home. As I reflect on it I think the house has become a symbol for the role J’s family has played in my life. They are very different than my family but equally wonderful. I look to how they live their lives often for guidance. So while it was a sad day today driving away from their house I'm very excited for them as they embark on a new journey, one they've dreamt of for many years. And selfishly, I hope it means that it means we will be spending more time together.