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Post by Deleted on May 3, 2015 14:42:29 GMT
Another one of the last remaining original Yooper hillbillies is gone. One of my 3 favorite patients, I had the great privilege of visiting him 1-2X per week for over 3 years - Sammy Shamrock M_____ died unexpectedly last night. He was raised in a log cabin with about 10 siblings, his mother did all their cooking on a wood stove, and they made ends meet however they could. He and his equally awesome wife knew 101 ways to cook a squirrel, shot bears out his trailer window, and lived off the land for many years. I am so grateful for the time I got to spend with him. He made the world a more interesting place - things just got duller.
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Post by jassytoo on May 3, 2015 14:57:03 GMT
I'm sorry. Sounds like a very interesting person. I hope you got lots of good stories from him to share and keep his memory alive.
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Post by Deleted on May 3, 2015 15:03:04 GMT
He sounds like such an interesting person. I am glad you got to spend time with him . You must have heard some great stories.
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Post by Melissa on May 3, 2015 19:40:05 GMT
Don't you just love unique people? Sorry for your loss, sounds like he had an interesting life for sure.
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Post by Deleted on May 3, 2015 20:06:18 GMT
I'm sure I'll be re-telling Sammy's stories for the rest of my life  One of my favorites is about his mother's wood stove. When they brought electricity out here (the UP was one of the last places to get it), she got herself an electric stove. She used it for a while then winter came and she realized she really missed her wood stove, so she made them bring it back inside and put the electric stove in the shed. Then, summer came and she remembered how much cooler the cabin had been with the electric stove in it, so she made them take the wood stove out to the shed and bring the electric stove back in. I don't know how heavy those great big cast iron wood stoves are - but she had the big kind and Sammy said it was very heavy. It became a habit for her - every single Spring she'd have it moved back out to the shed and every single Fall she'd have it moved back into the house. All her boys grew up and moved out so then her husband was stuck doing it, usually managing to time it so it could be moved when one of the boys was home for a visit - but not always. The old man was always very patient and kind and did everything she asked him to do and moved that stove twice per year every year without saying a word about it. This went on for decades until one day Sammy arrived home to find his mother sitting in her rocking chair in the driveway, crying her eyes out. His dad was out of breath and covered with soot. He had just finished smashing the wood stove to bits with a sledge hammer. |
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Post by Deleted on May 3, 2015 20:10:36 GMT
Sorry for your loss. Sounds like your life was richer for knowing him.
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Post by oldmania on May 3, 2015 21:46:04 GMT
Sammy sounds like a treasure. I love the story about smashing the stove. Reminded me that when I was growing up, we couldn't wait to take the stove out of the living room in the early Spring.
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Post by my3boys on May 4, 2015 1:18:14 GMT
Sounds like one of those people who you just feel privileged to know.
Have you thought about writing down all those stories?
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Post by Deleted on May 4, 2015 13:51:08 GMT
Sounds like one of those people who you just feel privileged to know. Have you thought about writing down all those stories? I need to - not just his stories but the stories from others, as well. There aren't many people left who remember life before plumbing and electricity and who truly "homesteaded" in the back woods and had to really survive that way, without any "plan B". |
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Post by Deleted on May 4, 2015 14:25:16 GMT
I am sorry for your loss, Fffarmergirl.
Older patients are fascinating. I worked with one quite elderly woman who actually rode in a covered wagon from a small SE MO town to her grandparents' farm in my town.
There are great old stories of our history that will be lost as the last of that generation passes...
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Post by my3boys on May 4, 2015 19:48:00 GMT
Sounds like one of those people who you just feel privileged to know. Have you thought about writing down all those stories? I need to - not just his stories but the stories from others, as well. There aren't many people left who remember life before plumbing and electricity and who truly "homesteaded" in the back woods and had to really survive that way, without any "plan B". I for one would love to read those stories! |
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Post by Deleted on May 5, 2015 0:39:05 GMT
Sorry for your Loss.
Always hard losing ones like this.
Rockpile |
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Post by Deleted on May 5, 2015 0:44:00 GMT
I need to - not just his stories but the stories from others, as well. There aren't many people left who remember life before plumbing and electricity and who truly "homesteaded" in the back woods and had to really survive that way, without any "plan B". I for one would love to read those stories! I for two would love to read them! |
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One of my favorites is about his mother's wood stove. When they brought electricity out here (the UP was one of the last places to get it), she got herself an electric stove. She used it for a while then winter came and she realized she really missed her wood stove, so she made them bring it back inside and put the electric stove in the shed. Then, summer came and she remembered how much cooler the cabin had been with the electric stove in it, so she made them take the wood stove out to the shed and bring the electric stove back in. I don't know how heavy those great big cast iron wood stoves are - but she had the big kind and Sammy said it was very heavy. It became a habit for her - every single Spring she'd have it moved back out to the shed and every single Fall she'd have it moved back into the house. All her boys grew up and moved out so then her husband was stuck doing it, usually managing to time it so it could be moved when one of the boys was home for a visit - but not always. The old man was always very patient and kind and did everything she asked him to do and moved that stove twice per year every year without saying a word about it. This went on for decades until one day Sammy arrived home to find his mother sitting in her rocking chair in the driveway, crying her eyes out. His dad was out of breath and covered with soot. He had just finished smashing the wood stove to bits with a sledge hammer.
