Small Things; Big Impacts

 Location: Illini State Park; Marseilles, Illinois (about 45 minutes west of Chicago)

I stayed at this campground in July of last year while on my way to the 2024 RV Rally. I explored the area pretty good and posted about it. I don't plan to repeat those explorations this time but if you want to know more about this campground and the area, here is a link to that post  https://gozatravels.blogspot.com/2024/07/peaceful-state-park-mostly-pictures.html

Campsite #18. That is the Illinois River in the background. It is a surprisingly clean and pretty river. The dam is about 1/4 mile to the left in that picture and it looks like they are releasing a lot of water. 

This is right behind Liberty. Nice looking river uh? You don't hear much about the Illinois River, but it was very important in opening the Great Lakes to the Mississippi River. 

My view out my back window. A much more peaceful view than at the rally. It's been great to glace out the window while working on the laptop. 

My purpose for stopping here was to visit an old home place. It is located in Streator, Illinois which is about 30 minutes south of here. I lived there for about 3 months back when I was around 11 years old or so. I decided not to visit it last year because I wasn't feeling too good, but yesterday, I was feeling fine and was up for a slow drive through soybean/corn fields to find an old house I hadn't seen in close to 60 years. I think I found the house but am not 100% sure. The correct house isn't important. What is important, is what happened when we lived there and how it took me 10 years to find out.

It was a nice drive to Streator. The road had almost zero traffic and the fields where full of nearly ripened crops. As usual, the houses are spaced about a mile apart and each had we groomed yards. You could easily feel the pride they all had. It was a good vibe ride.

I was taking this picture to show the modern windmills in the middle of corn fields when this flock of birds flew up. 

I don't know the actual year we lived in Streator but am guessing somewhere in the mid-1960's. Fast forward to the mid-1970's and I'm in the Navy stationed onboard the U.S.S. Manitowoc (LST 1180). It's been a rough day and I'm tired but need to eat supper before "hitting my rack" early (going to bed early). So, I have my plate of food and while eating I'm listening to the conversation at the other end of the table. It must be a new guy since they are asking him where he's from. It is the most common question asked of new guys. He said he was from Illinois. The caught my interest because in my childhood travels, I lived in two towns in Illinois. I calmly asked, "Where at in Illinois". He replied, "Streator, about 45 minutes west of Chicago". I said, "I know where it's at because I lived there when I was a child". He asked for the address which I couldn't remember. I told him I didn't remember the address but said there was a golf driving range where you turned into the neighborhood. Once you turned in, you then took the next right turn, and the house was somewhere down on the right. He quickly replied, "It was the third house on the right". Wow, that blew me away and I asked him how he knew that. His reply was that he saw my name on my shirt, and he remember the name. He also said that he remembered my mother specifically. Apparently, on a hot summer day she had picked up some fresh beans and peas. She rounded up some of the local kids and bribed them with fresh cold watermelon if they would help her snap the beans and shell the peas. He said that was the best tasting watermelon he had ever had, and it may have actually been his first. He said he remembers that day every time he eats or even sees watermelon. Now picture this, in northern Illinois, a few pre-teens are sitting on a patio, in the middle of summer, snapping beans and shelling peas while listening to a woman with a slow southern east Texas accent talk about growing up poor in the "thicket". Then when the work was done, eating some cold watermelon and letting the juices drip down their chins while spitting out the seeds (no seedless watermelons back then). My mother gave those kids a memory that lasted a lifetime and I didn't even know about for 10 years. When I called my parents after hearing the story, she remembered doing it and apparently, it wasn't the first time. She had done it at some of the other places we had lived. It makes you wonder what other great true-life stories are out there that we just haven't heard about yet.  

There are a couple morals to the story. One, you never know the impact on someone by what you think is an insignificant act (snapping beans and shelling peas). Two, it really is a small world, and everything happens for a reason.

I think it is the second house but not for sure. I also drove around town thinking I may be able to conjure up some old good-vibes. It didn't happen, at least not in town. I did feel a ripple as I drove down the street, but it may have just been gas. My mother is the one who always found the house we rented while I grew up. Since I've been RV'ing, I've visited several of our old home places. She did a great job at finding the perfect places. I miss her but will see her again one day. 

Tomorrow is moving day, and I'll be headed to a COE campground on the Mississippi River between Dubuque and Davenport.

Ya'll take care of each other. Maybe I'll Cya down the road.