Wednesday, November 24, 2010

Granny tells the story of an hour

"What's the matter, Granny?  Can't you sleep?" My Elmer rolled over, seein' me lyin' there with my eyes still open, just thinkin' bout the hour, the awful hour when I saw Kate's house just seem to disappear before my eyes.
Kate Chopin House before it burned down

Like all my friends and family, well I just try to forget, but sometimes the memories of sounds of sirens and the sight of flames just shootin' through the air, it seemed from all directions, takes me back to the time not long ago, when our beloved, great museum in Cloutierville burned down.

That hour, Lord that hour, well I thought my heart would break. The old house,  that held some of the special pieces of the heart of our fine town, burned to blackened cinders, now still lyin' on the ground.

Well, Elmer he remembers and he knows just how I feel.  I watched that old house burn that night and says right then, "This may be the end of Cloutierville."  And Elmer, he knows Granny is just mournin' at the time and says, "Now Granny that hour we was watchin' ain't the end of this great town.  You know you always say that life is not just in our things."

But I  couldn't keep from wonderin' now a few years had done passed, how our beloved Kate would feel if she could see the place she once called home set in flames and gone.  I knows that gal would weep, just like old Granny's cryin' now.

Kate Chopin's house burned down, and now a pile of blackened dirt and bits of cinder still are clingin' to the ground where once that house it stood all filled with special things so many people came to see.
Only the sign remains and the traces of charred wood and blackened dirt behind the mesh fence
Our Kate, she was a writer.  Oh, she loved our Cloutierville so much those many years ago, like she was born right here.  She wrote about us women in ways no woman done before.  She told the tales of people here, of bayous and our lives.  

Every town has something special, like a house, a tree, a mountain or a statue built somewhere that people come to see like folks once came to visit that folk museum  that was once our Kate's great home.  And us old folks when we weep for that old house and the joys it gave us once, we know it's in the lives we share, our families, friends and neighbors, and the beauty of our lands that makes our Cloutierville a paradise on earth.  That was something Kate, long with the angels, always knew--and Granny really knows tonight with Elmer's arms around her she can sleep.

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