Our coal-burning furnace was a big one. The furnace room in the basement was a closed off, unfinished portion of the basement, about 25 feet X 20 feet with dirt walls, the floor of the big farmhouse overhead, and entered through a big door from the finished portion of the basement, where all of the canning, freezer, cupboards, laundry and old wood stove things lived.
Walk with me straight into the furnace room and past the furnace — and a left turn has us standing directly in front of it. When Dad brought coal to the house from the mine south of the river, he would remove a small window just at ground level. The coal would be shoveled off the truck, and then through that little opening into the basement where it would lay in a great heap between the furnace and the wall, waiting for its day to heat the house.
On a spring day when there was still quite a bit of coal left–enough to finish the season–Dad came and called to us to come to the basement because there was something he wanted to show us. (more…)











recess; we did not stand around displaying new socks or shoes or dresses, so recess remainders were transferred from my hands to the paper flowers as I worked hard on them, and when I gave them to Mom the Friday before Mother’s Day, the corners of her mouth twitched a bit.
