Connecting to Roots Through Cycling

 

Aunt Anna Belle's Bike with a kitten on the saddle, around 1917-20
Jefferson Street, Kerrville (The house across the street is where the Presbyterian Church now stands.)

 With the morning commute to and from work figured out and getting easier each day, I am now biking to work more than I am driving. The morning rides are lovely and something I look forward to each day. The hotter evening rides are more tolerable, too. I actually pined for Nora (my bike) the morning I overslept and had to drive to the office.

I avoid the busier streets and travel residential streets on my bike commutes for two reasons: 1.  It keeps me out of the way of the morning drivers who are in a hurry and 2. I observe life in Kerrville from a different perspective.  There are things you miss when you drive by in a car:  A lady in a big, floppy hat tending her garden; a couple enjoying coffee and a cool morning on the front porch; cats lounging under a shade tree, an exotic looking crane soaking it's feet in Quinlan Creek; ravens chasing a redtailed hawk across the sky; neighbors visiting over a fence; the progress of a house remodeling; etc.  An added bonus is the slower pace gives me a chance to study the older houses along the route (I love looking at old buildings and wondering about their history).

Most of my route takes me down Jefferson Street, past where my grandparents' home once stood.  The beautiful, rambling house was demolished (or moved off site) in the early 80s and replaced by a squatty, pebble-covered office building. Many of the trees that used to dapple the house with cooling shade still remain on the property.  Whenever I pass this spot on Jefferson Street, I pay mental homage to my family and am grateful my ancestors settled in Kerr County and that my mom brought us back here when we were kids.  (I really do love this part of the world.)

Lately I've been revisiting old family albums. I go through them from time to time as part of my genealogy and local history work. Even though I've been through the old images a thousand times, I notice something new or discover an unexpected relevance each time I look at them. The latest batch of photos that grabbed my attention are pictures of my relatives with bikes at 829 Jefferson Street, Kerrville, Texas (the former site of my grandparents' home).

Unknown boy, Lucile McCoy, Ruth McCoy and Anna Belle Council
(Notice the bikes and the camera!)

 

Unknown Boy and Anna Belle with Bikes

   

Anna Belle and cat with bike

My mom and grandfather the day my mom got her first bike - a bright blue Schwinn
Taken about 1946.  She looks so happy and proud of her new bike!

I spent most of my youth in mid-western towns in Missouri, Kansas, Iowa and Illinois.  My dad was in advertising and my experience is that men in that profession move around the country like the military.  My elementary and jr. high school years were spent in towns where I had no sense of belonging or roots. (Being raised by southern parents with southern manners and values also makes you a bit of an oddity in the northern states.) Relatives were people who lived far away and showered us with love when we'd visit on summer breaks and the occasional Christmas.

I am not saying I had an unhappy childhood or that I was lacking anything important developmentally. My nomadic childhood gave me some wonderful experiences (and friends) and gave me a unique appreciation for this town and things that others may take for granted.

After my mom brought us back to the Texas Hill Country during my high school years I began to realize a sense of belonging and personal history that I never had before.  It started when I discovered some of the kids in my classes were children of people my mom went to school with!  That might not be a big deal to many people, but it was a huge deal for me.

The latest thing to give me that sense of being connected to Kerrville was finding these photos.  I am riding my bike on a street where relatives as far back as 1917 have ridden their bikes! I recently learned that my Aunt Debbie also rode her bike on this same street in Kerrville during the '60s and '70s when she'd come down from San Antonio for a visit. Pretty cool!

Those are my musings on this June morning. I am feeling happy and blessed these days and know that I am exactly where I am supposed to be. 

As an aside: I am enjoying this lifestlye change so much that I am considering trips to the grocery store on my bike!

Have a beautiful week!
Lanza