All right! Consider yourself warned. If you missed the Chicken and Biscuits Extravaganza at the Garrettsville United Methodist Church last week, you will have another chance in the future, because it got such a good reception that there will likely be a rematch and the dessert table will feature a Greatest Hits tour with even more lemon meringue and cherry cheesecake offerings. There were plenty of sides—glazed carrots, green beans with the chef’s special sauce, cole slaw, applesauce. The biscuits were tender; the chicken was plentiful. Nobody went home hungry, that’s for sure.
Plenty of family groups attended. That was neat. Parents and kids…grandparents and grandkids (some of them were grand, all right)…siblings…cousins…cool. The multitude of helpers kept supplies moving and places cleared. The kitchen even cleaned up pretty fast when things wound down. Luckily, the plates were all genuine hardshell items and not styrofoam . They did tidy up well, after the professional-level scrapers on the sanitation detail. There was one roaster pan that threatened to be one of the Twelve Labors of Hercules but even that was tamed by the time the last spoon dropped. The application of a bit of “elbow grease” did wonders for that challenge. I also noticed that the cast iron fry pan that I was using cleaned up WAY faster than one might have expected, given the length of time it was in use and the crispiness of the bits that were produced. Think that I’ll have to get a new one of those at home; the last one went off to Never-Never land to join the missing measuring cups and spoons that disappear from my utensil drawer. I’m getting the itch to make genuine corn bread too, the kind with the all-round crispy crust that you pour into a hot greased pan. I’ve seen one too many recipes touting that in the food magazines lately. Next thing you know, I’ll be setting up to make a pineapple upside-down cake like Mom used to make. Of course her pan was cast aluminum, with a –of all things—wooden handle (probably a wedding present back in the day)that was mighty-nigh burned off. Potholders were a necessity…either that or asbestos fingers.
And…before the chicken and biscuits even made it to the tables, there was a visitor from the past of the church, who was plenty acquainted with the practice of church dinners, since she’d been raised in this very church and had probably hefted her share of trays in its service(Kiwanians, Rotarians might recall dinners there). Judy Eisenmann—parents Gretchen and Warren Eisenmann—had attended the Garrettsville United Methodist Church (probably even before it became “united” with the Evangelical United Brethren to form the present denomination), had been married in the church—as had her parents—and was in the neighborhood to just get a look at what was the current state of things. Luckily, she came, with a friend, just as the preparations were ramping up and the building was open, ready to receive visitors. She got to see all of the recent changes and improvements—the remodeling, the elevator, the pre-school and so on—and she got Jack Schultz’s very best tour and a look at the 1868 foundation stones that the board of trustees keeps working on. Quite the expedition!
She also agreed—pay attention all of you residents of long standing out there—to send along some of her memories of what was going on in Garrettsville when she was growing up and being a part of the scene– the community, the James A. Garfield Local School District, the church—all that stuff which makes up the history of a place. Nobody can experience it all but it’s like a mosaic, everybody can put in a piece. Why don’t you all out there do your piece? Doesn’t have to be a big deal. An event, a memory, a picture, a description…whatever…pitch in and be part of the picture of Garrettsville that we’re trying to put together. The more, the merrier.
And remember, if we don’t get enough real-life, down-home memories from the public (like John Porter’s recollections of Garrettsville stuff and growing up in Hiram), I will be forced to make things up…and I might spell your name wrong. We won’t even discuss what might happen to the pictures. Were you always that tall? Or that ugly?
And speaking of history, mark your calendars for November 18. The abovementioned church will be marking and celebrating its sesquicentennial (That’s 150 years) with a potluck dinner, some special music and other activities of various sorts, as well as welcoming all and sundry to come join in the festivities. Not a member? No problem. Come one, come all. Always happy to welcome inquiries and visitors. Over the course of one hundred-and-fifty years there have been a few, I’d guess.
And next week, you’ll get the update on the porch kitties’ winter accommodations; they’re not going to Mar-A-Lago, in case you were wondering.
