Need Pound Cake? Family Recipe Copied 18 Years Ago to the Rescue!

Old Fashioned Pound Cake

My mother called from the store and said, "I think your father wants pound cake. Would you make your father some pound cake?" Or if those weren't the words, that was the meaning.  I said  "yes' and then immediately thought to myself, "why don't you make the pound cake?"

I procrastinated all afternoon, until finally, at about 5 pm, I looked at the recipe my mother wanted me to use. First, it didn't call for butter. My mother had gotten butter at the store - all pound cake calls for butter, right? Not this recipe, it called for Crisco. Luckily, I had purchased some a couple of months ago. Then I read the rest of the recipe and the notes my mother had included with it.

My mother had gotten the recipe in 1996 when she and her oldest granddaughter visited Charlene Epperson Morris, a distant relative of my father's. Mrs. Morris, who died shortly after the visit, said it was a family recipe and favorite of her Papa's. The cake was so good that said granddaughter, a notorious picky eater, ate an entire slice.

Upon returning home, my mother dutifully entered the recipe in document full of family and favorite recipes (not always the same thing) she had created when my sister married in 1991. Here the recipe languished until January 2014, when I, under great duress, made the cake for my father. As the recipe had an excellent story attached for it and because the cake was easy to make and quite tasty, I quickly became un-irritated with my mother.

Here, just in case your father needs pound cake and you have no butter, is Charlene Epperson Morris' recipe:

1 cup Crisco
1 3/4 cup sugar
5 whole eggs  - at room temperature

Beat all together until creamy.

ADD:
2 cups sifted flour
2 teaspoons vanilla

Beat 2 minutes.     Bake in greased & floured tube pan(s)     1 hour  @  325° (degrees)

Happy Baking!

Movies - 52 Weeks of Personal History & Genealogy, Week #12

I do love the movies, but not quite enough to leave the house to go see them very often. I'm not certain why this is exactly, perhaps I'm simply lazy and cheap. On the other hand, seeing movies in the middle of the afternoon with about 10 other people just doesn't compare to watching Terminator 2 with a full house at the Cinerama Dome on Sunset in Hollywood or watching When Harry Met Sally in an equally packed theatre in Universal City.

I have a tendency when watching movies to try and figure out where they were shot - what part of California, London or New York are they in? Especially California - lots of films used to be shot in California, even if they weren't set there. I remember during my first quarter away at college I saw a movie (I think with Gene Wilder and Richard Pryor) that had a scene shot in the Mission District of South Pasadena, my hometown. It was such a comfort to see a familiar site at time when everything around me was new and a bit scary. My friends, who were watching with me, however, were unimpressed; or, perhaps, had had too much to drink to realize what was going on.

If I find a movie I like, I will get the DVD and play it many times; kind of like visiting with an old friend. Some of my favorite movie friends at the moment are:

Julie & Julia

Persuasion

Michael Clayton

Pride and Prejudice (1995)

Legally Blonde

Sliding Doors

You've Got Mail

Ferris Bueller's Day Off

Star Trek

Lilo & Stitch

The Fog of War - Eleven Lessons from the life of Robert S. McNamara

Dead Poet's Society

The Hunt for Red October

A Room with a View

The Englishman Who Went Up a Hill But Came Down a Mountain

I'm sure this list provides some great insight into my character, but I'm not entirely certain I want to know what it is. There are no films about Sweden either, although I'm certain one will present itself shortly.


image credit: photl.com 

Help - I’m Being Stalked by Sweden

I think I am being stalked by Sweden. Why do I think this, you ask? Well, consider the following: 

June 25^th: I watched part of a documentary about the raising of the Vasa, a warship commissioned by Gustav II Adolph, which sank in 1628. The new genealogy blogs posted on Geneabloggers, that same day, included Skäktresan. It is entirely in Swedish, so it could list all my Swedish ancestors back to the year dot, and I couldn’t tell. The one bit I could read was a link to SwedGenTour 2011, a series of talks on Swedish Genealogy to be given in various US locations this September. More information is available here. None of their stops are close to me. Bummer.

June 26^th: This review of The Inspector in Silence by Håkan Nesser, a mystery novel originally published in Swedish in 1997, was published in the Arts section of the Cleveland Plain Dealer. Sounds like a good read.

June 27^th: This article on a gender-neutral preschool in Sweden appeared in the Monday edition of the Plain Dealer. I can understand why they would want to do it, but on the other hand, it seems kind of silly.

June 30^th: I had to pick up some books at my local library and on a whim checked to see if there any books on Swedish history. Surprisingly, as the branch is not very big, there was one – Sweden. The Nation’s History by Franklin D. Scott. It’s over twenty years old, but I checked it out anyway. It is now sitting on a shelf, where it will likely remain until I return to the library - unread, like most books I check out.

June 30^th: I took some time to catch up about four weeks’ worth of Time magazine. In the June 27^th edition was Grand Larssony a review of mystery novels: The Snowman by the Norwegian author Jo Nesbø and The Hypnotist by the Swede Lars Kepler. They also sound like good reads. The July 4^th edition included Northern Star, an article about Stockholm’s progress towards its goal of being fossil-fuel free by 2050. If you are interested in sustainability issues this is a great article.

July 1^st: An APG member posted a request for help finding the death date of a Swedish woman who died in the mid-sixties.

July 2^nd: In this week’s broadcast of It’s Only a Game, Charles Pierce told an anecdote about a Swedish tennis player (of whom I’ve never heard) whose matches were announced via radio in Sweden.

July 3^rd: Okay, by this morning I was looking for references to Sweden. But that didn’t mean I would find them. Although, I really could not have missed the almost full-page article about Sweden on page 2 of today’s Business section, a reprint from the June 25th edition of The Washington Post. The article detailed how the lessons learned during a financial crisis of the early 1990s have helped Sweden weather the current one.

Apparently, PR professionals in Scandinavia are working on overdrive. But why I am noticing all of these articles? Why now? Should I look for a job in Sweden? Are my ancestor’s calling on me to find and “visit” them? Am I reading the wrong sorts of books? I know I am probably being silly, but, on the other hand, I don’t believe in coincidences.

Songs - 52 Weeks of Personal History & Genealogy, Week 26

No one remembers what happened during the year of their birth. In fact, most people are probably totally unaware of anything that happened in the world that year, including the number one hit on Billboard. Unless, of course, they learn it from another source. In my case, I am more aware of events than the music because I was born in year that is integral to the second half of the US History Survey, which I happen to teach.

Don't remember what happened in 1968? Not in any particular order there was: the assassination of Martin Luther King, Jr.; the assassination of Bobbie Kennedy; the Tet Offensive; race riots; student riots, especially at Columbia; riots at the Democratic National Convention; the Soviet invasion of Czechoslovakia; antiwar protests; Lyndon Johnson did not seek his party's nomination, Richard Nixon staged one of the greatest political come-backs, ever; and the Apollo 8 mission reached the moon in December. This last leads to one of my favorite stories: President Johnson sent a copy of the famous Earthrise photo, taken by crewmember Bill Anders on Christmas Eve 1968, to every world leader, including Ho Chi Minh.

It must have seemed like the total meltdown of American civilization. But what were the people listening to while they watched the world collapse and waited patiently for my arrival?  According to Billboard the top 20 songs were:

1. Hey Jude, The Beatles
2. Love Is Blue , Paul Mauriat
3. Honey , Bobby Goldsboro
4. (Sittin' On) The Dock of the Bay , Otis Redding
5. People Got to Be Free , Rascals
6. Sunshine of Your Love , Cream
7. This Guy's In Love With You, Herb Alpert
8. The Good, the Bad and the Ugly , Hugo Montenegro
9. Mrs. Robinson , Simon and Garfunkel
10. Tighten Up, Archie Bell and The Drells
11. Harper Valley P.T.A. , Jeannie C. Riley
12. Little Green Apples , O.C. Smith
13. Mony, Mony, Tommy James and The Shondells
14. Hello, I Love You , The Doors
15. Young Girl , Gary Puckett and The Union Gap
16. Cry Like a Baby , Box Tops
17. Stoned Soul Picnic , Fifth Dimension
18. Grazing In the Grass , Hugh Masekela
19. Midnight Confessions , The Grass Roots
20. Dance To The Music, Sly and The Family Stone

I only know a few of these songs; I'm not sure whether any of them go well with meltdowns or babies.


Billboard's Top 100 List for 1968 is at MusicOutfitters.com.

Clothes – 52 Weeks of Personal History & Genealogy, Week 24

Stylin' in an outfit made by my mother 

I grew up during the 1970s which pretty much speaks for itself clothing-wise. All I can say is thank goodness my clothes did not look much like those the grown-ups chose to wear. I'm sure I had lots of polyester, double-knit scary stuff, but please do not hold me responsible.

Of course, much of what I wore as a really little girl I know about only because I've seen the pictures. My mother, my grandmother, and my mamaw all sewed for me when I was young. And if you sew, you know that sewing for little girls is much fun than sewing for little boys. On top of this I was my mother's first born child, the first granddaughter on my dad's side and the first grandchild on my mother's. The sewing machines were plenty busy! Consequently, when I was about five, between what was bought, sewn, or handed down to me, I could wear a completely different outfit everyday of the month.

This anecdote probably explains why, while I am no fashionista, I am continually frustrated by my tiny paycheck and my BIG desire for new clothes. I have a passage from the Gospel of Thomas posted in my closet in which Jesus says "Do not worry from morning to evening, and from evening to morning, about what you are to wear." Usually, this saying helps me reconcile my wish for clothes with an insignificant budget and an aspiration to have fewer possessions and I end up feeling quite virtuous about having a small wardrobe. But some mornings when a favorite item is in the laundry or I hate everything I own the burning desire to spruce up and enlarge my wardrobe overwhelms me. Then it quickly becomes apparent that my virtuous resolve is a thin veneer held on by old, yellowed scotch tape. I think to myself, "Seriously, Jesus was a man, what did he know about clothes? In fact, he probably would have LIKED the fashions of 1970s." Luckily, these weak mornings do not happen very often.

Neighbors – 52 Weeks of Personal Genealogy & History, Week 25

Stratford Avenue, looking south from my front yard

Stratford Avenue, in South Pasadena, California was quiet, traffic free and shaded by rows of Chinese Elm Trees. These several features made it the perfect playground for all the kids who lived there – not only could we play in our yards and swim in our pools, but we could also run around in the street without much fear of speeding cars or becoming red with sunburn. The lack of traffic was due to a cul-de-sac at one end of the street or "the doughnut" as we all called it. The center of the doughnut had bushes and a tree, if I remember correctly, and it was another great place to play. Due to the miracle of Facebook, I have connected with many of the old neighborhood kids, three of whom were in my graduating class at SPHS.

None of these childhood playmates were my immediate neighbors though. On either side of us, were two elderly couples: Jack and Evelyn to the north and Virgil and Dorothy to the south. I remember more about Virgil and Dorothy, probably because our driveways abutted so we saw them more often. Dorothy had a bad habit of burning the bacon (or was it toast) and setting off the smoke detector in the kitchen. Virgil used to walk his two dachshunds, George and Barney, at least once a day. His route took him down the street then around Alhambra Park. The older Virgil and the dogs got, the shorter the walks became.

My bedroom was close to Jack and Evelyn's house and as they got older their TV got louder. I did not always want to listen to what they were watching, which was unfortunate in the heat of summer as the only air conditioning in both our houses was fans and open windows. Jack and Evelyn usually made a daily trip of some sort and every morning Jack asked Evelyn where she wanted to go. I don't remember her answers and I think towards the end of her life she no longer understood the question. But sooner or later, I would hear the car doors slam and the engine start, so decisions must have been made. Funnily enough, after they moved to a retirement center, I really missed hearing their TV and Jack's daily question, "Where do you want to go today, Evelyn?"

I don't live in California any more but I do live on a cul-de-sac. To the east is a newly retired couple with a Great Dane and to the west is a not retired couple who used to have a terrier. Despite these similarities, I am no longer one of the neighborhood kids playing in the street; I am in the long stretch of time between childhood and retirement. It's not a bad place to be, but would be much improved if someone asked me, "Do you want to go to on a European cruise today?"

Books – 52 Weeks of Personal Genealogy & History, Week 23

Amanda is to books as bacon is to eggs or Linus is to his blanket or Calvin is to Hobbes. Books to me are sustenance, comfort and best friends. I could not live without my books and I know I will not live long enough to read all the ones that interest me. One of my favorite memories of childhood is on a summer's day sitting outside all day reading. I took a blanket and my pile of books into the front yard and when the shade moved to a different part of the yard, I moved too. It was a fabulous – I must have read at least three books that day.

Now that we have established that Amanda. Loves. To. Read. what books will tempt her to crack the cover and which will make her run screaming from the room? Let's start with the latter. I'm not terribly keen on science fiction or fantasy; my sister loved the VC Andrews books, but I had no interest at all. I don't read graphic novels and I was never a comic book person. Neither am I keen on Important Fiction. As a historian I read plenty of books about the unfairness and complicated nature of the human experience, I don't really feel the need to read about it in a fictionalized format. So when I read fiction, I want to have to think too much.

I have always tended to read nonfiction as opposed to fiction as learning is fun for me. When I want to know something, I go to the library and look for a book on the subject whether it is dating, sewing, blogging, religion, history, job hunting, gardening, or cooking. Now of course, my profession demands that I read nonfiction. Right now I am reading a book on central European migration to Cleveland for a program I will be attending this summer. It is work and fun at the same time, and you can't get any better than that.

When I have a yen for fiction, I usually will pick a mystery. The first mysteries I read were the Bobbsey Twins and Nancy Drew. I've read all but one of the Brother Cadfeal mysteries by Ellis Peters and I'm pretty sure I've read everything Agatha Christie and Margery Allingham ever wrote. I tried reading Inspector Morse and Rebus, but did not love them, although I think I'd give Rebus another go. I have also enjoyed the work of Joanne Dobson and Earlene Fowler.

When I was little I had a huge collection of Golden Books. My absolute favorite was The Monster at the End of this Book starring loveably, furry old Grover. Grover spends the whole book telling you not to turn the pages because he is afraid of the monster. Then when you get to the end he realizes that he is the monster and there was no reason to be afraid. Not being afraid is an important life lesson, one that I am still learning.

Another favorite was Mandy by Julie Edwards. My grandma bought it for me just before my sixth birthday and I read it shortly afterwards. I really identified with the main character Mandy, and I don't think it's just because we had the same name. She was an orphan who found a garden house that she decorated for her very own; I think I just didn't want to share a room with my little sister and wanted to create my own. Our bedroom at the time was also yellow and brown – ick! Mandy is one of the few books I schlepped from California to Ohio when I went to college.

Snuggled next to Mandy in my suitcase was a copy of Where the Sidewalk Ends by Shel Silverstein. My papaw got this for me when I was 12. If you've never read it, you really need to. It has the most fun poems for kids. Great rhymes, fun drawings, silly topics, amazing rhythm and cadence. When I had to memorize a poem in the seventh grade, I picked "Sick." This short poem, which begins, "I cannot go to school today, Said little Peggy Ann McKay" details all the illnesses which would unfortunately prevent Peggy from attending school that day. At the end she learns that it is Saturday and is miraculously recovered and goes out to play. Another student did an excerpt from Rime of the Ancient Mariner by Samuel Taylor Coleridge. Guess who went to Harvard.

[Update 6/23/2011: The Monster at the End of the Book is now an iPhone/iPad App which you can purchase for $3.99. Just search for Grover at the iTunes Store. I haven't bought it yet, but the average customer rating is 4.5 stars.]

Secrets - 52 Weeks of Personal Genealogy & History, Week 22

The Queen's View

Week after week I have seen the prompts for the "52 Weeks of Personal Genealogy and History" posted and have thought to myself, "I know what I could write for that prompt. I'll get to it after I {insert teaching related activity here}." Obviously, I never got to it, which is especially distressing because school has been out for two weeks. 

I've realized that if you write on each of the prompts Amy Coffin creates this year you will have created a history of your own life or a living family history, almost without trying. I had never even heard of living family histories until I wrote about them for eHow earlier this year. The article is here (n.b. I don't get anything if you click on the link).

So here goes….

This week's prompt is "Secrets" - something about me that would not be found in a documentary record 100 years from now. It seems to me that if this fact is not documented (e.g. written down) nobody could ever find it out whether they look tomorrow or in 1,000 years.

The first undocumented item that sprang to mind was my favorite colors. When I was little my favorites were blue and green, but since college it has been orange. Not a bright yellow-orange, like the fruit, but a darker, red-orange. On the other hand my favorite color combination can be seen almost any time it rains – green trees against a blue-grey sky. The only way, in my opinion, to improve this combination is when the rain has stopped and the world is touched with the gold of an emerging sun. I have always thought this combination is what I would give to Jane Lockhart of the HGTV series Get Color for my room inspiration. {This is my all-time favorite HGTV program, which also isn't documented}. 

In fact, I love this color combination so much that my niece uses the term "favorite color" as code for my favorite matinee idol. Here is an example of how it works (imagine a sing-song emphasis on the code words): "Aunt Mandy, do you want to watch this movie? It's got your favorite color…" His identity, I think, will remain a secret.

The second item that occurred to me is that anyone looking for me in the future might wonder why that can't find me in the 2000 US Census. They will probably madly look for me in Columbus (where I lived in 1999) going street by street; they will look for my parents and my sister; they will try the entire country with various spellings of "Amanda" and "Epperson;" they will triple check the social security death index to make sure I didn't die in 1999. But the truth is quite simple – I am NOT in the 2000 US Census as I did not live in the United States. I am in the 2001 UK Census as I was a graduate student at the University of Glasgow at the time. If someone knew significant details about my life or had access to other documents, like my diploma, they would be able to figure this out quite easily. But if not, my absence from the 2000 Census would be a great big brick wall. 

If you'd like to know more about secrets, read this story from NPR. It explains (perhaps) why I shared the anecdote about my favorite color.

More Birthday Greetings

Hoyle, Ruthelle and Joseph Epperson

Today, May 8th, would have been my papaw's 101st birthday. He is pictured here with his younger brother Hoyle and his little sister Ruthelle. This group portrait was probably taken in Charleston, TN in 1918 or 1919.  I don't know why the older brother, Roy, is not in the picture. Perhaps he was camera-shy.

Happy Birthday Papaw!!

Tombstone Tuesday: Joseph Bolen Epperson and Bennie Elizabeth Eldridge

Joseph (1910-1995) and Bennie (1912-1989) are my grandparents. They are not buried in the Charleston Cumberland Persbyterian Church Cemetery, but in a newer memorial park a few miles away. I remember my papaw telling me that after he had purchased the plots he received a letter addressed to "Mr and Mr Epperson." Papaw said, "They must think we're a couple of gays."  I thought that was funny because the twelve-year old me didn't even realize that Papaw knew what gay people were.  Obviously the people at the cemetery didn't notice that Mamaw's middle name was Elizabeth.

Joseph Bolen Epperson and Bennie Eldridge Epperson

I hope nobody found the above anecdote offensive.  It wasn't meant to be, it's just that I find it much more amusing than my one other story associated with my grandparents burial plot. The other is that the first time I visited the cemetery was at my Papaw's funeral in 1995. Mamaw died in January 1989, three weeks after I left for a semester abroad in London; I was unable to fly home for her funeral.

Tombstone Tuesday: Joseph Oscar Epperson and Mary Katherine Bolen

Joseph Oscar and Mary Kate are my great-grandparents. Joseph (1879-1918) died during the 'flu pandemic. His wife, known as "Mrs. Oscar" (1881-1964), outlived her husband by many decades. She managed after his death by renting out a room to the minister and by maintaining her share in the general store Joseph had owned. The store was renamed the Bolen Brother's Store and apparently they made amazing sausage.

Joseph Oscar Epperson

Mary Kate Epperson

Tombstone Tuesday: Joseph Epperson and Sarah Ann Fuller

Joseph and Sarah Ann are my second great-grandparents. Joseph (1852-1941) spent his entire life in Bradley County, but Sarah Ann (1853-1920) was from Dahlonega, GA. They are buied in the Charleston Cumberland Presbyterian Church Cemetery.

Joseph Epperson and Sarah Ann Fuller

Tombstone Tuesday: Harrison T. Epperson and Elizabeth Mann

Harrison and Elizabeth were my third great-grandparents. According to the information I have Harrison T. Epperson was born 16 December 1798 in Albermarle County, VA and died 25 June 1886 in Bradley County, TN.  His wife, Elizabeth Mann was born in Jefferson County, TN on 11 November 1816 and died 16 July 1901 in Bradley County, TN. They were living in Hawkins County, TN in 1850 and had moved to Bradley County by 1860. They are both interred at the Charleston Cumberland Presbyterian Church Cemetery.

Harrsion T. Epperson

Elizabeth Mann Epperson

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Charleston Cumberland Presbyterian Church, Charleston, TN

My Epperson ancestors moved to Bradley County in the 1850s. They attended the Charleston Cumberland Presbyterian Church and many were buried in the churchyard. This building was completed before the Civil War and if you look closely at the sills you can see the bite marks of Union horses who were tethered to the windows. The chuch was placed on the National Register of Historic Places in 1984.  Members now worship in a newer building, but this one was being restored when I last visited in 2008.

The church from Railroad Street

The facade from Railroad Street

Looking towards Railroad Street from the front porch

Church and cemtery

Interior

Historical Marker

Meet the Historian's Family

I would like to introduce to you the four main branches of my family tree: the Hoods, the Nordstroms, the Eldridges and the Eppersons.

Each branch is represented in this photograph of my parents on their wedding day. From left to right are William Keir Hood, Karin Nordstrom Hood, my parents, Bennie Eldridge Epperson and Joseph Bolen Epperson.
 
Both sides of my family knew each other for decades - they lived in the same town and attended the same church. However, this wedding photo is the only one I know of that has all four of my grandparents in it.  Go figure...