Life On Potter Creek

John Bush was raised in Martinsburg and graduated from Central High in 1961. He spent most of his adult life in the Pacific Northwest. He has many memories as a boy in the 1950s that give some insight to the people and culture of Martinsburg in the 1950s. John likes to tell stories and over the years he has repeated the stories of his youth many times. His belief is that those years in Martinsburg influenced him all of his life. Some of the stories are historical in nature, some are colorful, and some are personal. He wishes that you enjoy them.

I spent many of my growing up days playing at my grandparents' home where my mom's parents, Abi and Thomas Claycomb, lived in the stone 'spring' house on Potter Creek Road. My mom had four sisters and four brothers. The oldest sibling, Delores, was born in 1919 and the youngest, Anna, was born in the mid 1930s. Delores died shortly after the birth of her first child, and Stanley, their oldest son, was killed in Germany shortly after World War II ended. I was only four but can remember the closed black casket in the living room of the spring house that was filled with men in suits and the kitchen filled with women of all ages.

The other siblings and their spouses either lived on Potter Creek Road or visited many times during the year. My grandparents' home is locally known as the spring house or the stone house. It was built in 1811 over a spring which exits to a large pool of water next to the road and then is diverted under the road to join Potter Creek. Abi and Thomas moved into the house sometime in the early 1920s. It did not have electricity until after World War II. One luxury that they had was a hand pump over the sink that drew water directly from the spring. They owned about 50 acres of timberland and farm fields. The farm fields were on a hill and were difficult to farm. Grandpap farmed and logged with horses, and they had some livestock in an old barn which later was torn down in the early 1950s. We generally visited every week and the barn, woods, spring and Potter Creek itself became playgrounds for me. There were also fruit trees to climb. In addition to the visits, I was often babysat by Grandmom and her two youngest daughters, Ida and Anna. I also was watched after by Uncle Clyde, Uncle Gene, Aunt Norma and their spouses since they had built homes along Potter Creek on the family land. I can remember events with each of the uncles and aunts. They often discussed growing up on Potter Creek, so I was also privileged to hear the stories they told each other. I could write pages about them growing up and my adventures and can only include a couple stories here.

Grandpap was considerably older than Grandmom and had become a bit senile. He mumbled a lot but a few of his statements stuck with me. Some of the statements he made were, "You, too, will probably try to reinvent the wheel," "When you go to town, you can tell by the buildings that it's the churches, banks, and lawyers that have all the money," "If opportunity comes by, jump on it, because it won't come by again," "Stay out of the spring, you could get hurt," and "Things will change." I helped him gather firewood, corral chickens, collect eggs, and feed the ducks and the fish. He was grumpy but seemed to tolerate me and my cousin Carol.

Grandmom walked with crutches and braces on her legs. She had contracted polio as a child and told me she was happy that I got the vaccine. She spent most of the day preparing food, cooking, and baking bread. I can still remember her cooking over a wood stove in the late forties and early fifties. There was always fresh bread available. I sometimes helped her in the large garden which was also managed by Uncle Clyde's wife Betty. Grandmom would crawl along on oak planks to pull the weeds. I never thought about not listening to her although she did quietly discipline me once. She offered to pay me for every fruit basket of dandelions I dug out of the lawn. Since I was on my own, I didn't always cut out the complete root and I fluffed up the leaves so the basket filled quickly. So after the first basket was delivered, I asked to be paid. The next day she told me to bring the basket to the porch before dumping them. She walked over and pushed down the leaves with her crutch and packed them to fill just about a quarter of the basket. She never said anything. I was embarrassed and spent quite a while filling that basket. I should have realized that she had raised nine children and there wasn't much she hadn't seen.

Cousin Carol is two years younger than me and lived next door to the spring house with her dad Clyde, mother Betty and younger brother Steve. In the house next to Clyde's was Uncle Gene, his wife Elda and three children, David, Ross Dale, and Regina. Later on they had Mary Ann, the youngest of their children, and growing up I do not recall much about her. Carol and I did a lot of things together. Sometimes we included my sister Jolene and cousin David. A couple of summers we were inseparable. Grandmom or Aunt Betty would pack a lunch and we would head out along Potter Creek or into the woods for a picnic. Sometimes we took along hotdogs and started a small fire in the rocks to roast them. Along with the hot dogs, we sometimes picked teaberries and made our own tea. I don't recall getting into much trouble. Once I poked a hornet nest and got stung four times before getting into the house. Carol was with me but those hornets knew who the culprit was and she did not get stung. I often went fishing along Potter Creek in Scott's pasture across from both Uncle Gene's house. Once, I waved my hat at Mr. Fisher's bull and got chased; I barely made it to the fence. There was a wooden swing on Grandmom's back porch. Carol and I would get it going sideways playing airplane; at one point the screws in the roof got bent.

I learned quite a few things while spending time on Potter Creek. Grandpap taught me how to split firewood. Aunt Ida taught me how to ride my two wheel bike. Grandmom stood at the end of the front porch that overlooked the spring-fed pond and taught me how to catch my first fish. I first had to get a worm from under their wooden sidewalk boards and put it on a hook. The fish in the spring were tame and on the first toss I caught a big trout. I brought it around to the back porch were Grandmom made me gut it and cut off the head. We fried it for lunch but I was warned that from now on to only fish in the creek. The spring was now off limits. Grandpap did not know about that adventure since he did not allow anyone to fish in the spring.

On Sundays and during family reunions in the summer, Uncle Ross (married to my Aunt Norma) and Uncle Gene would make homemade ice cream. I helped churn until my arms hurt. Both of them teased me a lot, but I felt like I was useful. I recall once, when Gene's wife Elda was pregnant, Ross told me not to swallow any watermelon seeds or I would get pregnant like her. I don't remember how long I believed that, but I was teased by my older cousin Kenny Shubert about it several times. Anna and her boyfriend, Homer Clapper from Loysburg, took Carol and me to the drive-in movies in Bedford and to the Bedford County fair.

Playing along Potter Creek was like living a dream; Carol and I were free to do what we wanted to do. If the weather was bad we played cards and board games. The TV only had two channels and we didn't watch it very often. We had complete respect for Grandmom and never really thought of her as being handicapped. She often told the story that none of the insurance agents would sell her life insurance because she had once contracted polio, but she had outlived them all. Grandmom was born in 1900 and lived until 1989. Later in my life I pieced together all the things she had to endure. That knowledge gave me the strength to move forward when I thought things were going against me.