Remembering the Fourth of July on Rough River Lake . . .

The Fourth of July is the holiday when I most miss my parents. Most people would probably choose Thanksgiving or Christmas, but not me. The Fourth of July always found us on Rough River Lake for at least two days; more often than not, we managed to stretch the holiday to three days. My heart aches just a little when July looms.

By early July, Kentucky temperatures would rise to the 80s and low 90s, warming the clear lake water to where it was refreshing (and not bracing as mentioned in an earlier post). The sun would sparkle across the water, the warm wind blowing through my hair as our ski boat flew across the water (my Daddy at the helm, a silly hat covering his head).  We’d spend countless hours on the lake (we’re talking 9-10 hours a day) water skiing and swimming.

The best part of boating in those days was the group of families (and the slew of kids) who spent those idyllic summer days with us.  Danny and Suzanne Schapmire, Kenny and Sandy Baughn, Bill and Phyllis Vincent, J.B. and Delores Eskridge, Joey Triplett.  Every family brought their best homemade goodies that when piled together, created lunches for the ages. Some brought desserts like oatmeal cookies and cherry cream-cheese pies; others’ favorites included bean salad, Watergate salad (Google it), cold fried chicken and cole slaw. My Mommy’s contributions were always blonde brownies, tuna fish salad and pimento cheese spread – sometimes she’d add in this wonderfully decadent banana pudding (with real homemade custard).

These foods are seared into my summer memories.  Even now, when the Fourth of July rolls around, I reach for my Mommy’s recipe box and make a few of her favorites.  This afternoon, I made blonde brownies – they are simple, don’t require a mixer and just melt in your mouth.

Here’s how to do it (the recipe also halves well – just bake in a small square pan).  I will warn you, it’s important to be careful with the measurements – if you put in too much brown sugar, they get runny; if you’re heavy-handed with the flour, they’ll be dry and cake-like. Here goes . . .

Blonde brownies

1 stick unsalted butter
2 eggs
2 cups of brown sugar, lightly packed
2 teaspoons baking powder
1 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon vanilla
1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
1 cup chopped pecans or coconut

Melt the butter, cool slightly. Then mix all ingredients together by hand.  Put in light metal 9x13” baking dish. Bake at 350 degrees for 20-25 minutes or until the brownies start to pull back from the side of the pan and are a golden brown along the edges. Don’t over-bake or they’ll be dry and lifeless. Place baking dish on a wire rack until completely cool. Slice and enjoy (they also are wonderful with vanilla ice cream).

The world I no longer recognize . . .

My connection with Kentucky – the place of my birth – and the views of some of the people who still live there has recently caused me to question my current relationship with the Bluegrass State. While I have wonderful memories of growing up in Kentucky, the views I’ve seen from many of its residents over the past several years have caused me to wonder if the state has changed or if I have.  Maybe it’s both.

I lean – and have always leaned – socially and politically moderate. I have followed an interesting path: I lived in Kentucky for my first 22 years – nurtured by similar families living in our tiny, Protestant-dominated, dry county; spent the next 35+ years in a liberal college town (albeit in the South); and now have moved to New York City, one of the most liberal bastions in the country. 

Over the past few months, I’ve asked several people I trust who either still live in Kentucky or have strong connections to people who do if they understand the vitriolic comments I see on my Facebook news-feed on an almost weekly basis. Yes, I see similar comments from people who live in other states, but it surprises me by how many I see from my home state. My Kentucky-based friends call them UCs – ultraconservatives.

Growing up, I felt most of our family and friends were similar to us. My parents often went out of their way to help those in our community who needed assistance. I remember one fall day my Daddy and I went up to what is today the back part of the Hartford cemetery to help an elderly black man (I believe his name was Lucian) whose home had burned. My Daddy called businesses throughout Western Kentucky and finally found an old, silver Gulfstream trailer that we could help the man buy, and my Mom and I went through our extra household goods to find everything we needed to set up Lucian’s new home.  I don’t remember my family voicing anything disparaging about Daddy’s friend's race or those of his neighbors.

Today I wonder when I see racist, sexist comments, have the ultraconservatives always lived in those parts – and if so, did I not hear their views because my parents didn’t follow that mantra? Or in those days, did they not publicly voice those thoughts in places we entered? Did the parents of the friends I grew up with agree with the racist, sexist comments being strewn about by their children today?  Did I look the other way? What has changed in what I have always considered a kind, God-fearing place that would make some people feel comfortable in voicing the hatred I hear today? The not knowing the answer is what bothers me most.

While it’s not my place to pass judgment on the current political environment or the comments I see, I am thankful I’ve been fortunate to live in vastly divergent regions of our country that I hope have helped me learn tolerance through a cacophony of voices.

It has taken me a long time to consider the labels people apply to themselves and I’m not sure I still understand why they're necessary: liberal, moderate, conservative.  Even now, I’m not sure I know where I truly fit. I certainly didn’t understand this in my formative years in Kentucky or in my first few years in Gainesville where it was easy to just vote for the Democrats on the ticket whose names were commonly known around town - because let’s face it in those days, if there were Republicans on the ticket in Gainesville they had a snowball’s-chance-in-hell of winning. Thankfully, it’s gotten a little more balanced in recent years.

So what does this post mean? It means I’ve always felt I belonged somewhere in the middle: socially liberal, fiscally moderate, and committed to personal responsibility. I lived through the 1970s when abortions were hard to come by unless you had money to travel out of state, when LGBT friends were afraid to let others know their true selves, when minorities – especially those who lived in our part of the Midwest – were few in numbers and looking back, had even fewer opportunities. I’m proud of the gains our country has made in these issues over the past 40 years.

I have never voted a straight party ticket. I’ve supported both Republicans and Democrats for every public office, including President. I hope that this strong division we see today throughout our country is not permanent. That it, too, shall pass.  These thoughts, however, keep me awake at night.