I loved our vacation years on the Potomac River in King George County, Virginia. During those first 18 years of my life, we spent nearly one month every summer at the cabin we rented there, first from "Aunt" Lottie Burroughs and then her sister, Lucy "Dee" Linton.
Both ladies were two of the 10 children of Forrest Plater and Loula Dickinson Tayloe, who had received part of the original 550 acres of property that comprised the manor house, Chatterton. Four children of Tayloe's received the property in four parts around 1884, after having been out of the Tayloe family's hands since 1872.
The original grant goes back to 1650 and one William Parry, who was granted a deed to the property of 50 acres for each of the new persons he brought over to Virginia from England. He had received 550 acres. The property was purchased by Peter Ashton in 1658 and he received 2,000 additional acreage, calling the property Chatterton after his home in England – a name that has endured these 350+ years.
The manner house wasn't built until around 1740 by John Tayloe I. It was in and out of the Tayloe family for over a century until the time that Forrest Tayloe divided the remaining 550 acres to his children in 1884.
Our friends, Aunt Lottie and Dee Linton were descendants of George Washington's sister, Betty, who married Fielding Lewis (married 1750), so their lineage goes back to the earliest days of Virginia. At one time, Dee lived on Ferry Farm, the farm where George was raised and allegedly cut down the cherry tree. I am here to say that "a" cherry tree still existed on the property in the 1950s because I had cherry pie made from cherries grown on a tree from Ferry Farm.
During our vacation years at "the cabin" as we affectionately called it, we had some of the best times of our lives. My sister and I spent many wonderful hours before she passed away remembering the escapades of our time at "the river."
One such occasion involved our neighbors just down the hill from the cabin, Lee and Earlene Bizzell. The Bizzell's son married one of the Tayloe descendants and from that union and ensuing friendships, Lee and Earlene were able to purchase a small lot of Aunt Lottie and her husband, Bill, down on the river.
Lee worked for the railroad out of Richmond, VA, and was a heavyset, jolly fellow who laughed constantly. I adored him and followed him everywhere as he puttered around the property. He had built their vacation home while on vacation from the railroad and upon retirement, they lived there full time.
Earlene was only about 5' tall and talked a mile a minute. She had a raspy, distinctively southern voice and would manage to insult you while complimenting you – all in one sentence. Often she would say, "Oh my don't you look like my cousin ... only she's pretty."
But to know Earlene was to love her.
My mom, sister and I would frequently borrow Lee's rowboat to go fishing early in the morning. We'd head maybe half a mile down the river, but not far from shore and cast our lines out to catch a nice bucket of perch, which we'd bring back, gut, clean and have for dinner that night.
One day when I was about 12, I insisted that I wanted to learn to row the boat, having decided it looked like fun. Pris protested. At 15 years older than I was, she was the boss of me – or so she thought. Nevertheless, I managed to persuade her, my mother and Lee to let me learn how to row the boat.
With Lee watching from shore, we headed out to our regular fishing spot with Pris rowing. Shortly after arriving there, a storm began to blow in and we decided we needed to head to shore. Not to let it be forgotten that I was supposed to be learning the skill of rowing, Pris relinquished the oars to me and sat herself in the bow of the boat with Mom in the stern.
I looked to shore and saw Lee standing on the beach in his black canvas boat shoes, and shorts, his yellow Lab, Missy, by his side, watching me intently.
I proceeded to attempt to row to Lee's beach, but found myself rowing in circles for what seemed like forever. I simply couldn't get the oars into the water deep enough to steer the boat or row well enough and mostly managed to keeping going round and round, all the while soaking my sister every time I'd only get the oar a tiny bit into the water.
My mother started howling with laughter – of course she did – she was dry as a bone. My sister, on the other hand, was soaking wet, and onshore, Lee was close to having a heart attack he was laughing so hard – slapping his knee with glee – great big tears coming down his face.
After about an hour, with the waves growing larger, I finally got back to shore and as the boat hit sand, my sister suddenly stood up and said indignantly, "I'm getting OUT of this boat NOW!"
Well, the dear Potomac River obliged her by sending a large wave into the boat, slapping it so hard that Pris, because she was standing up, fell right into the river – soaking her completely.
This final scene was the end for Lee, who dissolved into laughter to the point where he couldn't even speak and neither could my mother.
Needless to say, Pris didn't speak to me for the rest of the day, though over the years, both of us most remember the sight of Lee standing on the shore having the biggest laugh of his life as this little 12-year-old city girl tried to row a simple boat.
Next time it's snakes and sharks teeth, swimming and picnics at "the river."
No comments:
Post a Comment