My story, for what it's worth, is being shared with family members

Christmas gift has me offering episodes from the past

Then how should I begin

To spit out all the butt-ends of my days and ways?

And how should I presume?

‘Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock’ –T. S. Eliot

The butt-ends the poet speaks of are, of course, another term for cigarette stubs and Prufrock’s use of this image as he attempts to sum up his life is hardly an uplifting image. But there’s a dark humor to it that I find appealing.

On the note of summing up one’s life, my stepdaughter, Jennifer, purchased a subscription to Storyworth for her mother and me. If you’re unfamiliar with this service, as I was, each of us has one year to post various episodes of our respective lives on their email server. To assist us in this undertaking, each week a question is sent to our email. We can click onto it at our convenience and provide an answer, presumably with a few interesting details and anecdotes, or we can supply our own topics and accompanying narrative.

Photographs can be added as well.

Once finished, “a beautiful printed book” can be ordered. Or presumably more.

From what I gather, when a post is saved, it’s sent to the purchaser…in this case, Jennifer. So, for me, prudence in the telling of my past is advisable.

My first reaction to the idea was foot dragging. Being a writer of long standing, I’ve already shared a number of details from my past with readers. Several of these personal remembrances are included in the two books I’ve published: The Long Crossing and What Say I. I also keep busy doing the news articles for the paper and these commentaries for my Substack newsletter, thus, another writing task was not appetizing.

But from what I gather, buying the subscription was not cheap and it was a heartfelt gift. That combination caused me to feel guilty at my reluctance, not to mention being an ungrateful wretch, so I signed up and took the initial step. The first question presented was ‘What is one of your earliest childhood memories?’ Well, I’ve never written about this particular topic and, being experienced at what’s called the personal essay, I knew how to go far afield and add other details of my past—directly or indirectly related to the topic—that gave the submission more depth and breadth than the question merited.

I actually had fun doing it.

As for my wife, who is not a writer—living with one is challenging enough—she agreed with my suggestion to bypass the questions and do more of an autobiography, starting with where she was born and who her parents and grandparents were as well as mention of her two older brothers and go from there. I suspect it may take more than one book.

For the time being, I plan to stick with answering the questions that are given to me and see where they take me. Thus far I’ve also answered: ‘What was your first big trip?’ and ‘What did you find surprising when you started your first job?’ Next up will be ‘Describe one of your most memorable birthdays?’

Pretty mild stuff, but these tales of my past are going to family members, mainly the younger set. The skeletons in the closet will remain there, the more risqué details will go to the grave, and any darker episodes I might wish to share can be done in another forum.

As for this assignment, once finished next December, the relatives can learn more about my story…for what it’s worth.

* * *

Presuming most of the readers of this web site will not be purchasing a copy of the book and not having anything I feel compelled to comment on concerning the news of the day, though God knows there’s plenty of matters worth considering, I’m including the response I gave on my first memory which would be about 70 years ago.

Who knows, some of you may find this particular recollection more interesting than any of the political or social commentary I might offer.

WHAT IS ONE OF YOUR EARLIEST CHILDHOOD MEMORIES?

I remember a flatbed truck pulled into the driveway of the Finlan farm where we lived when I was a preschooler, delivering a new WD-45 Allis Chalmers tractor. It was a tricycle model, meaning the two tires in the front were close together.

Looking at photos, I’m guessing it was the 1953 model which means I would have been at least two or three, likely the latter.

The farm was owned by George & Thelma Finlan, an uncle and aunt of my father. George had hurt his back to the point he decided to give up farming and take a job as a deputy with the Livingston County Sheriff Department. George’s uncle, Tom Finlan, was with the department and, I assume, helped him secure the position.

My parents, myself, and my younger sister Carol went from a small house on Sharp Road (with no indoor bathroom) to the farm. George and Thelma, with their children (my older cousins Ann and Jon) moved to a house in Fowlerville at the corner of Church and South Collins streets.

My dad had been hauling milk (back when it was done in steel cans) and probably helping George and his father, Grandpa Lloyd, with their farm work when needed.

George still owned the farm, while my dad worked it, including milking the cows, with my folks getting two-thirds of the profit and George a third.

I’m not sure if Dad bought the cows from George and then built up his own herd or if George still owned the cattle, but I’m guessing the former. My folks raised a few hogs on the farm as well.

We weren’t there too long, maybe two-to-three years. George sold the place and bought a farm located on North Fowlerville Road, just north of Sharp Road. It was known as the Dean Farm and a much bigger place than the Finlan Farm.

I remember being picked up by the kindergarten bus at the Dean Farm which would have been in the fall of 1956, so obviously our family had relocated there prior to this date.

My folks and the Finlans had the same arrangement as far as splitting the income.

We had the Allis Chalmers tricycle tractor until selling it after my father’s death which was in late November of 1967. Along the way he’d also purchased an Allis Chalmers WD-45 four-wheel model which I preferred to drive.

A handy feature of this model was its hand clutch in addition to the foot clutch. If you were driving along with the power take-off on, it allowed to stop the tractor without disengaging it.

Steve Horton is a mid-Michigan journalist.