It All Started In The Cove

On April 4, my husband of almost 65 years turned 90. It was certainly cause for celebration, but what kind and how big?

We remembered our son, Edwin, will be turning 60 in May so possibly, a double party? But wait, there is my brother, Jay, who will turn 80 in November and our grandson, Cory, who will be 40 in October.

Calling in the family squad plus a few assorted friends, we planned a party for the birthday boys in June. It will be a four-day event in Virginia. They are the most loved men in my life and all of them have at least a slight connection to the Cove. In retrospect, it all started in the Cove.

My brother

I have known my brother Jay Clapper every day since his birth on 11/8/44. We grew up in the Cove and he and I both readily agree it was the best of times and the best of places. He was an ornery little kid who loved to harass his big sister.

While he could be a thorn in my side, I also had his back. As he entered junior high, the school board decided to create a middle school football team. When push came to shove, there was not enough money for football shoes for all those wishing to join in the sport. My brother had always loved football and was extremely disappointed when he was not one chosen to receive the athletic footwear.

Big sister to the rescue! I climbed on my bicycle, pedaled to a friend’s house and called Principal Ben Van Horn to complain. I doubt it meant much, but they did come up with enough cash for the shoes and the junior high football team was in business.

My brother was a good center and went on to make the all-county team in 1962. A few months later he went to the U.S. Marines along with Covite Earl Slick.

He now lives in Wake Forest, North Carolina, and I just wish it weren’t such a far piece to see him.

My husband

My husband, Jay Williams, discovered Morrisons Cove around 1956. The Southern Cove Fire Company was holding square dances at the Loysburg Fire Hall (former Grange Hall, now owned by the Lion’s Club). The idea was to raise funds and provide a place for young people to have some fun. It was attended by all ages including, at times, my parents.

There was a square dance caller and Park Williams of Schellsburg, along with a group of various instrumentalists, played music. Park played trumpet and invited his cousin, Jay Williams, to play drums. My husband remembers telling Park, “You don’t play drums in a square dance band.”

“So,” Park answered, “Come along and you might meet some chicks.”

As he sauntered into the fire hall that warm April evening, carrying his snare drum, his eyes fell on a tall blonde dressed in red and he says he was “smitten”. It was the beginning of a long life together.

Unfortunately, I was much younger than he assumed, so he waited around for the next four years until I grew up. Clay Hull was responsible for assuring him he was making the right decision.

The wedding took place on August 30, 1959, in the Loysburg Methodist Church. Had Jay not come to the Loysburg Square Dance, there would not have been an Edwin.

Our daughter Cindy was born in 1962 and son, Edwin, on May 24, 1964. The two offspring enjoyed many trips to their grandparents’ farm in the Cove. Pap Clapper took them on tractor rides and the family enjoyed long walks in the back fields or bike rides on the quiet roads.

On October 30, 1984, our daughter presented us with a grandson, Cory McConnell, born in Dallas, Texas. The McConnells soon moved to Virginia, which made his grandparents quite happy.

His great-grandparents had long ago left the Cove, but Cory spent many summers with his Mim and Pap in Bedford. In doing so, he loved going with Mim to the cow show in Martinsburg, where she took pictures for Lancaster Farming.

One of my favorite memories occurred when he was a four-year-old blonde cherub. It was his first cow show. As we got out of the car, he said, “What is that gross smell? Is that their dew dew?”

I assured him he would get used to it and he did with his attention drawn to a Jersey cow.

“She has pee pees sticking out under her!” he exclaimed.

“No,” I said, “that is where the milk comes out.”

“Come on Mim,” he queried, “How would she reach it?”

Overhearing the conversation, John Holbert, county agent, suggested I take him to the milking parlor. Cows were lined up at the milkers and Cory was all eyes.

“Are they pumping that out or in?” he asked.

After giving him a quick biology lesson, I took him to Ritchey’s Dairy for a sample of the real thing.

It was one of the times you never forget! Now he is a grown man with two daughters of his own and I really must insist we somehow get them to the source of their milk. He continued to enjoy the cow shows for many years.

So, all my birthday boys, each loved with all my heart, in some way, have roots in the Cove.

Here’s hoping the party comes off as we have planned and will become a highlight in our book of memories.