Growning up in Woodstock

I not only know where Woodstock is located, I had the privilege of growing up there before it was labeled S-Town.

I was the second child born to Eugene Holdsambeck and Billie Ruth Reynolds.  I was lucky enough to have a big sister named Jeanne, who was three years older. My mother kind of pushed us into music:  Jeanne playing the piano and me singing and of course the dog howling.  We recorded a record (see picture below)  and even sang on the Birmingham morning show called:  County Boy Eddie.

As with everyone and everything, it was  simpler times.  Sundays were for visiting neighbors, friends and family.   Woodstock was a beautiful small town where everyone was willing to lend a hand to help neighbors, where neighborhood kids were able to play outside, walk the railroad tracts, ride our bikes anywhere we needed or wanted to go, without  the worry of danger.  There was no town hall, no police dept., no mayor or city council. We played outside more than inside. There were no cell phones,  (we shared a 8 party line) no microwaves or even street names.  When you got your driver’s licenses you made up the street name.  We used Church Street because right on the hill from us was both the Methodist and Baptist Church.

I remember in the 80’s when everyone got health conscious  and me and Jeanne  started walking for exercise.  Everyone thought if you were walking   your car must be broke down.  (lol)  So you were not able to keep up a good pace.  Actually it was nice that people were so concerned. That is just the way it was in Woodstock.

I was a lucky child because I lived about the same distant between both sets of grandparents.  The Holdsambecks to the east and the Reynolds to the southwest.  My grandparents Reynolds owned  the local grocery/gas store.  I guess what we now would call a small 7-Eleven except, you could buy on credit without a credit card.  Your word and hand shake was enough.  Of course there were no fountain drinks either.  They had 5 grandkids so, I don’t think they made their profit on ice cream or candy.  We thought it was so neat when we got old enough to work the cash register.  I never could get the hang of weighting meat and charging the right amount per pound. Once I charged a customer something like $12.00 for a pound  of bacon.  Of course, she didn’t say anything, just told grandmother and her account was  adjusted.

(Hard to believe I ended up  working  in accounting)

It was just as exciting to visit my  Dad’s parents  the Holdsambeck’s.  We would sit on their stairs and play school, when you  passed your grade you got to move to the next stair up. They had a big garden, coon dogs and a old swing hanging in the tree for us kids.  Besides, my Granddaddy made the best SWEET TEA  EVER.

Their property was joined by The Miller’s, as in Brooks Miller, Mary Grace’s family.  Remember my grandmother Beulah and Mary Grace’s mother were sisters.

We often walked the path though  the woods to Aunt Daisy and Uncle Brooks house.  I can picture Uncle Brooks out on the porch swinging in the most unusual chair.  I always thought it was so peaceful and quiet there.  I also remember the original house where the bedrooms were outside the main house,  they had a outhouse and  no  one ever thought of  peeing in the sink.

I  attended Woodstock elementary school through 6th grade.  We had  outhouses and 2nd/3rd grades shared the same room, taught by the same teacher and the same for 3rd/4th grades. The best part of school was our lunch break because we knew we would get homemade rolls made by  Mrs. Burns.

June 1963 tragedy  stuck our family.  My Dad, Mom, Sister Jeanne , Cousin Beverly  and family friend went to a local business on Sunday evening  to get a milkshake; it was beginning to be a nightly event.  Their car crossed the intersection and was hit by another car.  My Mom died shortly after arriving at the hospital, My Dad was in critical condition and stayed in the hospital for several long months.  Others got cuts and bruises.  At the time, my cousin Deborah and I were with my Grandmother Reynolds.  I was 11 years old.

This  town was in no way S-Town.  My family would not have made it without the support of friends, neighbors and of course family.  My dad was not able to work for years and always suffered head and neck pain.  I know it was a financial burden on my grandparents and family.

See, we all have things that happen  (hard knocks)  in our childhoods that impact us for the rest of our lives.  WE are the ones that have to shake it off and make the best of a bad situation.

The only good thing that came out of this tragedy was my singing career was short-lived.

In 1970 I graduated from West Blocton High School  and  got a job in Birmingham working for a mortgage company.  I remember back then I didn’t even know how to get to Birmingham, so my Grandmother Reynolds went with me and  waited in the car while I was on my interview.

Four years later I changed jobs and worked in Bessemer for the next 10 years. In 1974, two weeks after I changed jobs,  I married my best friend Charlie, who worked in Tuscaloosa.  Good thing Woodstock was located about halfway between the two employers.  We put a lot of miles on our vehicles back then.  It was nothing for me to leave work , go home, change clothes,  then go to Tuscaloosa to buy groceries.  (Go figure)

We purchased our first home in 1978.  The house  originally was owned by Charlie’s grandparents, who would not sell to family because they thought it might cause hard feelings.  So we purchased from the family that bought it from his grandmother. The house is located next to Charlie’s parents,  which made us feel real fortunate to have the house back in the family.

At that time we thought we were set for life, we both had good jobs and were remodeling our home. Well, a few months later Charlie’s employer,  Gulf States Paper  mill decided to close and he went to work with a paper mill in Birmingham.  In 1983 they also closed their doors .  Charlie went to work in Florida a few months later.

And that, my friends, is the reason we ended up in Jacksonville Florida in 1985

Wait a minute, one more story from Woodstock.

Four  years after  my Mother died,  Dad remarried a lady who was 38, had no kids and had never been married . No need to say there was a whole lot of adjusting going on.  Everything went pretty smoothly until  my Dad died of a massive heart attack while getting dressed for work  in  April 1980.  He was  54.  I was 28.

That was the first time I really saw “greed” in action.  I will only say that  I got nothing that belonged to my dad, which included “The Holdsambeck” home place which belonged to my Dad.  Even worst  the stepmother would not even give me my mother’s cedar-chest.   There were a few years of disappointment, betrayal and confusion that followed.   It was during this time that Jeanne and I realized  these things are just material things.   In the grand scheme, they are not important . We have our family, our health and a relationship only shared by SISTERS.   I have always been a big believer of “What goes around comes around” and you only have to account for your actions, no one else’s.

OK,  Let’s keep talking—-

Reta