It is hard to know how to even begin to describe how it felt to be in Tenney last weekend (Saturday, May 10) for our “Tenney Gathering.” The weather could not have been more dreadful—high 30s and low 40s, driving rain, sleet, and wind. IN THE MONTH OF MAY, for heaven's sake!! My vision of a crowd of people sitting on lawn chairs on a sun-drenched spring day, or wandering along Tenney’s streets, wrestling up memories—well, that didn’t exactly happen. So—who would have thought that over 100 people would drive to Tenney on such a day, navigate the muddy, soggy streets, jump over one final moat to get to the church steps, then sit or stand and visit in an unheated old church—just to talk about Tenney’s days of old and the people that lived them?
Red, runny noses and frequent shivers notwithstanding, it was very clear from the smiles, the hugs, the clasp of hands that had not touched for years, that this was a good day. A good day in Tenney. The family names represented that day, names such as Kath, Durner, Scott, Waite, Polifka, Riess, Richardson, Janke, Roach, Wittman, Manthie, and many others, became so familiar to me as I did my research for THE TENNEY QUILT. All of these names are represented on the quilt, which was on display that day, with many descendents visibly moved by the sight of their mothers’, fathers’, and grandparents’ names. Though the quilt, at age 80, should not be handled, it was easy for me to allow these folks to touch the name of their relative, as if to hold that person in their hands for but a moment. I imagined it to be similar to the experience of standing before the Viet Nam Memorial in Washington DC, running one’s finger over the engraved name of a loved one.
The image you see in the above photo is one that I will never forget for as long as I live. This woman is Lydia Kath, who was married to Richard Kath and lived in the Tenney area. Lydia is 101 years old, and will turn 102 in July. At the time that her name was placed onto the quilt, she was a young woman of 21. Lydia and her nieces were the only people to show up in Alexandria, Minnesota, a month or two ago for a book signing that had been, unbeknownst to them, postponed due to a blizzard. Lydia had been determined to see the quilt, to meet me, and came 92 miles one direction in weather that kept most others, including me—the author!—home. That’s how much the Tenney Quilt meant to her.
I didn’t dare hope that Lydia would show up in Tenney last weekend, but I should have known she would. If a blizzard couldn’t keep her away, I suppose a little freezing rain and wind wouldn’t either. I brought Lydia’s spry little self, with the double-pierced ears, the red dyed hair, and the stylish warm-up suit, up to the front of the church where the quilt was displayed. I asked her if she would like to see her name on the quilt. She did, of course, so I showed it to her.
Next to Lydia’s own embroidered name was her husband Richard’s name, as well as other relatives, long since departed. Lydia studied it so very closely. She ran her hands through the soft contours of the quilt and her fingers over the stitches that spelled out her name and others. She was so lost in the experience that I know I could have done cartwheels down the church aisle or sung the national anthem at the top of my lungs and Lydia would not have noticed. I know at that moment that the Tenney Quilt had become a magic carpet for Lydia, trans
porting her to a time in Tenney long ago. The photo shows, to some degree, the intensity of her thoughts, but being right there to witness it was, as I previously mentioned, something I will never forget.
There are only about 10 people alive whose names appear on the quilt. Three of them were in Tenney last Saturday. Besides Lydia, the other two are Lois (Wittman) Tracy (to the left), who appears on the quilt as three-year-old “Lois Christine Wittman;” and Doris (Janke) Wawers (below), who appears on the quilt as “Doris LaVerne Janke,” and was just a baby the year the quilt was made. To meet, for the first time, these three women whose names I have seen so many times as I have studied the quilt, was touching beyond words.
Thanks to the current residents of Tenney for getting the church ready and for hosting this event. Special thanks also to Sherry Swan (Al Manthie’s granddaughter) for bringing lots of old Tenney records, photos and memorabilia, for all the folks who brought treats, and really, to everyone who came. Any personal benefit I have received from writing THE TENNEY QUILT has been outweighed a hundred times by the joy that I hear in people’s voices as they explain to me what the book has meant to them, or the joy in their faces as I see them connect with other people who share a common bond—a tiny little town called Tenney.
Red, runny noses and frequent shivers notwithstanding, it was very clear from the smiles, the hugs, the clasp of hands that had not touched for years, that this was a good day. A good day in Tenney. The family names represented that day, names such as Kath, Durner, Scott, Waite, Polifka, Riess, Richardson, Janke, Roach, Wittman, Manthie, and many others, became so familiar to me as I did my research for THE TENNEY QUILT. All of these names are represented on the quilt, which was on display that day, with many descendents visibly moved by the sight of their mothers’, fathers’, and grandparents’ names. Though the quilt, at age 80, should not be handled, it was easy for me to allow these folks to touch the name of their relative, as if to hold that person in their hands for but a moment. I imagined it to be similar to the experience of standing before the Viet Nam Memorial in Washington DC, running one’s finger over the engraved name of a loved one.
The image you see in the above photo is one that I will never forget for as long as I live. This woman is Lydia Kath, who was married to Richard Kath and lived in the Tenney area. Lydia is 101 years old, and will turn 102 in July. At the time that her name was placed onto the quilt, she was a young woman of 21. Lydia and her nieces were the only people to show up in Alexandria, Minnesota, a month or two ago for a book signing that had been, unbeknownst to them, postponed due to a blizzard. Lydia had been determined to see the quilt, to meet me, and came 92 miles one direction in weather that kept most others, including me—the author!—home. That’s how much the Tenney Quilt meant to her.
I didn’t dare hope that Lydia would show up in Tenney last weekend, but I should have known she would. If a blizzard couldn’t keep her away, I suppose a little freezing rain and wind wouldn’t either. I brought Lydia’s spry little self, with the double-pierced ears, the red dyed hair, and the stylish warm-up suit, up to the front of the church where the quilt was displayed. I asked her if she would like to see her name on the quilt. She did, of course, so I showed it to her.
Next to Lydia’s own embroidered name was her husband Richard’s name, as well as other relatives, long since departed. Lydia studied it so very closely. She ran her hands through the soft contours of the quilt and her fingers over the stitches that spelled out her name and others. She was so lost in the experience that I know I could have done cartwheels down the church aisle or sung the national anthem at the top of my lungs and Lydia would not have noticed. I know at that moment that the Tenney Quilt had become a magic carpet for Lydia, trans
porting her to a time in Tenney long ago. The photo shows, to some degree, the intensity of her thoughts, but being right there to witness it was, as I previously mentioned, something I will never forget.There are only about 10 people alive whose names appear on the quilt. Three of them were in Tenney last Saturday. Besides Lydia, the other two are Lois (Wittman) Tracy (to the left), who appears on the quilt as three-year-old “Lois Christine Wittman;” and Doris (Janke) Wawers (below), who appears on the quilt as “Doris LaVerne Janke,” and was just a baby the year the quilt was made. To meet, for the first time, these three women whose names I have seen so many times as I have studied the quilt, was touching beyond words.
Thanks to the current residents of Tenney for getting the church ready and for hosting this event. Special thanks also to Sherry Swan (Al Manthie’s granddaughter) for bringing lots of old Tenney records, photos and memorabilia, for all the folks who brought treats, and really, to everyone who came. Any personal benefit I have received from writing THE TENNEY QUILT has been outweighed a hundred times by the joy that I hear in people’s voices as they explain to me what the book has meant to them, or the joy in their faces as I see them connect with other people who share a common bond—a tiny little town called Tenney.
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1 comment:
Oh, the day was terrific. I(Elaine) visited with so many folks I hadn't seen since Sherry( my daughter) was a baby. The only thing I felt badly about was, on the way home I thought oh, my I didn't exchange address or email with anyone.
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