I was at a family gathering the other evening and overheard a couple of ladies talking about taking drives to places we used to go to when we were children. In that conversation, I heard her mention the old Chilo dam and park. These days there is no longer a dam at that location but there certainly is still the park. It is well kept and well shaded and still a perfect spot to hold a picnic at in my opinion.
Thinking about that place and thinking back to the time when the Chilo dam was still in existence gave me cause to think of times I consider still some of the best times I can ever recall. When summer would grow into its’ hottest and school had been out long enough for children and adults alike to become bored the Ladies Aid from our church would step forward and organize one or maybe more picnics to be held at the park. I can tell you when I would hear about this I would get excited. As much as I liked Fruit Ridge and our farm and neighbors, I was still more than ready to get a change of scenery. My guess was that the kids in Moscow Village felt likewise to a change also.
Now in my youth the ladies aid was a very strong pillar of the church and it was doubtful that the church could survive if not for them. (I know this as I heard my grandma and her friends say as much and they all were members off the ladies aid.) These picnics most times were held on a Saturday but could happen on a weekday just as often. Since the majority of the members and their husbands were all retired, a weekday wasn’t near as difficult to carry out and the park would be emptier so they could have the prime tables and grill.
The park was a shaded and level area that rested on the banks of the Ohio River. From there one could look down into the locks, see the river barges and boats of many sizes, and design pass through. For me to see this was enlightening as I was not around the river very much unless it was here or at the dock at Moscow where motor boats would launch. I feel the Moscow kids were just as much interested but had seen much more of river traffic than I had.
The park had swings and areas to play ball in but on that river bank near the end of the part was a huge anchor that had come from a large riverboat. It had been mounted in concrete so that it stood with the anchors point from one side pointing upward and where it would be connected to a chain rested on the ground. Where the anchor would be hooked to a chain was a big heavy ring that was always a test of our strength to lift. Every child there would climb up on the silver painted anchor and as we, all would gather it got to where it couldn’t hold all of us and became a sort of king on the mountain game.
While we were playing, the ladies were preparing the table and setting up chairs as the husbands were firing up a grill so there would be hot dogs and maybe hamburgers for us to eat. Most of the men though were usually under a shade tree and swapping stories which we kids kind of enjoyed but their wives felt they were just loafing. (It is true they were but boy, some of those stories were good!) For maybe a half hour or so there was a lot happening as we were playing, the ladies were preparing, and the men were not.
However, when the ladies dishes were on the table and the grill was cooking those hot dogs the ladies would call us all over to the riverbank. There we were to line up and as did all of the adults and get ready to be in a brief service. I am not positive but most years Mr. Turner our Sunday school song leader would stand in front of us all and speak a little from the bible. (Brief was not what he was known for but on those times he was.) Then he would say we are going to sing. He might start with “Go tell it on the mountain”. And then “maybe I love to tell the story” and end with and I am sure of this one. “My country tis of thee”. I know it was always three hymns and to me the amazing part was there was not a hymnbook around to see the words. The entire ladies aid and spouses I think had the hymns memorized. That to me was a marvel but I think it might have been part of what they had to do to become a member of the ladies aid.
In addition, the songs were sung accapella. I must say it here. Although they knew the words keeping the notes on key were not as well handled. Now they all felt they had sung it and sung it well and a wise person was the one who never mentioned anything differently. The way I saw it was that these ladies had made from scratch and brought a couple tables of food that I for one knew was some of the best eating there was. So just why would a hungry person insult a group of ladies who loved to do well for all? Folks I can assure you it wasn’t going to be me.
So after a prayer we all dived in and the rest of the afternoon went on with groups gathering to talk and kids running here and there. As the shade would seem to increase, someone would finally suggest it was maybe time to head for home. As all the pots and pans and supplies were being carried to respective cars, the ladies would gather us all together for one last song. Even though we all were getting tired, we still all knew we had one more hymn to sing. So Mr. Turner would begin and we all would sing, “We shall gather at the river.” I cannot say for sure but it always seemed that this song was sung a little louder and much more on key than any other sung that day. A time I don’t want to ever forget.
Rick Houser grew up on a farm near Moscow in Clermont County and loves to share stories about his youth and other topics. If you are interested in reading more of his stories they can be found in his books ‘There are Places to Remember” and’ Memories ARE from the Heart.” He may be reached at houser734@yahoo.com or mail to P.O. Box 213 Bethel, Ohio 45106.