Daddy's Kerosene

Dad told me a story of his childhood not long before he passed away, one that I had not heard of before.

Daddy was always doing things that we never dreamed of doing, when we were small. Time marches on and things change fast.

Imagine growing up in a world where you never locked your doors, you never stopped to consider whether it was safe to stop and help someone along the road, someone that apparently was in need. Worries like that were not even contemplated..

You just naturally did the "good neighborly" thing and helped people out.

Imagine a time where kids could bicycle along country roads for miles to get to the river for an overnight camping stay. A night full of fishing, sitting around a campfire, telling ghost stories, and sleeping under the stars. Dad told me that he did these things, at the tender age of eight. Imagine a world where that would be accepted and allowed..a safe thing. That is the world that my Dad grew up in. Travel with me to that time, a time of innocence.

Dad went to the river fishing with a group of friends and his dad. He was about 6 or 7 years old. He stepped on glass along the river's edge and cut his foot pretty badly.
My grandfather, Lewis Arrowood, scooped Dad up and out of the water and deposited him in the back of their truck, a model T. This was somewhere in the 1930's..about 1938 or so..Imagine the scene: the old truck alongside the water, the sun dappling off the water in sparkles, and a crowd of tousled headed boys wearing overalls, leaning around the truck and looking to see just how bad the foot was cut.

A Norman Rockwell scene for sure..grin.

Dad said that he got very special treatment that day..He got his freshly cooked "catch of the day", delivered to him in his "special spot". Grandpa had fixed for it him: a comfortable spot in the back of the truck with his foot all propped up and bandaged. Grandpa brought him a soda pop in a bottle..a 'Special Treat' for sure..it was not every day that you got a store bought soda..

Grandpa had to disinfect the cut foot, so he used what he had..Kerosene..yes, plain old Kerosene..Imagine!

He placed Dad's foot in that pan of kerosene and Dad watched it turn crimson from his foot, blood swirling into the pan..

This is something that I am sure he never forgot. Dad had a weak stomach and went 'out like a light' very easily..something that I do myself.


Years passed on by, as they do, so quickly.

When Dad got sicker, and much weaker, the doctor told Daddy that there was not much else that they could do..They were out of options.

The chemo was no longer an option, he was just too weak..Neither was the radiation..

Dad told the doctor the story about the Kerosene..

What he really told him was about how the love of his Dad healed that foot, almost instantly..

He smiled that lopsided smile, that only Daddy could smile, amd looked up at that doctor and asked him if he had anything that 'worked as good as kerosene'..

The Boy and the Ice Wagon

My Dad lived not far from Lineberger’s Park growing up. It was a hilly and open park, and had a great creek running through it. This creek was perfect for performing daring Superman feats of “creek jumping”, “bridge flinging”, or “stump jumping”, and the like. The park was a great place for a kid to play when he had his trusty bicycle.
One day when Dad was about 6 or so…he decided to prove his ‘Superman abilities’ by going airborne over the creek on his bicycle. He pedaled up the steep hill overlooking the creek, and came flying back down it at break-neck speed, and went flying over the creek. His ‘Superman abilities’ were definitely put to the test and he crashed into the creek.

The jump just proved to be too far, and he was not able to make the span of the creek to the other side.

He was knocked out and it was not good.

Luckily “Old Man” Coletta was happening past with his ice wagon and he either heard the crash , saw it, or saw the aftermath. However it happened, it was lucky for our little “Superman”, that he happened along at just that moment.

Coletta was an man that operated the ice company and ice cream store in town. He was an Italian immigrant and started his company in 1915. He had a horse drawn wagon that delivered ice in town to his customers. In the 1921 Gastonia City Directory on page 145, there is listed, a ‘Charles Carmine Coletta, ice cream manufacturer’ at 312 South Willow Street.

Well, “Old Man” Coletta, as Dad called him, loaded the unconscious boy onto the back of his wagon and took him home..He apparently knew Dad and where to take him. So the kindly man delivered the limp bundle to his no doubt, scared to death parents..Imagine the shock of seeing that!

Dad was “out of it” (his words) for three days. Imagine keeping the kid at home during that episode these days! I suppose the Doctor was summoned to the house to attend to him.

Happily, he recovered, and decided that being Superman wasn’t as great as it was cracked up to be and he tempered his actions from then on.
Well…probably not, he was six, afterall. Grin.

They have completely restored Coletta’s Ice Wagon and it is on display in Dallas. Coletta’s Ice Cream is still in business and very much in demand in Gastonia these days. I went in and got a shake just the other day. Still wonderful ice cream.

I guess, if not for that ice wagon “save”, I may not even be here today. Something to ponder as I eat that wonderfully creamy, cold treat.


The horses, hitched to that wagon, grew to know the path of the ice route very well, over time. They would continue on - without Mr. Coletta, if they thought he was taking too long after stopping at a customer’s house. He would be seen running down the road to catch up with the wagon. That had to be a sight.




This was the motor operated truck that replaced the horse drawn wagon. The picture was taken at the tiny Dallas NC Christmas Parade.

Dear Ancestor~

This is Paul Benjamin "Bennie" Arrowood, son of Lewis William and Maude Rose Hull Arrowood, standing on the hillside over looking John Henry Arrowood's homeplace in Pigeon Roost, NC.

Does anyone recognize the smaller boy with him?

************************************
-Dear Ancestor-

Your tombstone stands among the rest;
neglected and alone
The name and date are chiseled out
on polished, marbled stone
It reaches out to all who care
It is too late to mourn
You did not know that I'd exist
You died and I was born.
Yet each of us are cells of you
in flesh, in blood, in bone.
Our blood contracts and beats a pulse
entirely not our own.
Dear Ancestor, the place you filled
one hundred years ago
Spreads out among the ones you left
who would have loved you so.
I wonder if you lived and loved,
I wonder if you knew
That someday I would find this spot,
and come to visit you.

-Author Unknown-

Welzia Weds Isabell~

Welzia was born on February 28, 1860 in Yancey County, NC.
His parents were Samuel Augustus Arrowood and Sarah Ellen Winters Arrowood. Isabell was born August 05, 1862 in Yancey County, NC.

On the 1880 Census records for Harrell’s Township in Mitchell County NC, Welzia was working as a farmhand on James and Elizabeth Garland’s farm. He is listed as single and 19 years old. On the same census, living just two house's down from the Garland farm is Isabell Correll with her family. Isabell's father David, and her mother Nancy E. Correll, along with six younger brothers and sisters are living in the household. One can just imagine that first sighting. There had to be the exchange of smiles and quick looks between them. And with that, their love story begins.

Welzia and Isabell married not long after, about 1880. They had a baby and they named him Sam. Little Sam tragically died after choking on a peach pit. He must have been still a toddler.

They then have a son, named James Edward Arrowood. James Edward was born on May 08, 1882 in Erwin, Unicoi County, Tennessee. He married Mary Etta Willis and they had seven sons and one daughter. Edward remained in the mountains after the rest of the family went down into the piedmont of NC. He later moved his family to West Chester, Pennsylvania.

From Arrowood Family Movie File

James Edward and Mary Etta Willis Arrowood

Welzia and Isabell then had a son, Fielden Winfred Arrowood. Fielden was born in Tennessee on July 13, 1883. Fielden married Lillie and they had six sons and daughters. Apparently, Lillie was pregnant with the last daughter, Helen, when Fielden died in 1918. She gave birth to Helen early in 1919. Fielden died young ,of a stomach ulcer, at 36 years old. He came down from the mountains to find work in the mills with the rest of the family in Gastonia. Fielden is buried at Mt. Olivet Church in Gastonia, NC.

From The Arrowood Trail Thru the Mountains

Fielden Winfred and Lillie Arrowood

Next was a daughter, Cordelia "Cora Delia" Texas Arrowood. She was born on November 09, 1888 in Mitchell County, NC. She married Samuel Aldridge and they had three girls and two boys. Sam passed away young, at the age of 42. He is buried at Mt. Olivet Church Cemetery in Gastonia, NC.
Cordelia is buried at Greenwood Cemetery, Belmont, North Carolina.

Another daughter was born to Welzia and Isabell, Lydia "Liddie" Arrowood. Liddie was born in November 1891 in Mitchell County, NC. Liddie married Oliver T. Evans in Gaston County, NC and they had eight children.

From Arrowood Family Movie File

Arrowood Siblings:
Left back row: Edward, Fred, Nora, Lewis William,
Left front row: (Lucinda) Minnie, Cora(Delia), (Liddie)Lydia, and Esther Ruth.


Next came daughter Lucinda "Minnie" Arrowood. Minnie was born June 13, 1893, in Mitchell County, NC. Minnie married Walter Lankford. She and Walt are both buried in Gaston County, NC.

Another daughter was born to this union on May 02, 1894. Mary Jane “Janie” Arrowood. Mary Jane had two young boys and no father for the boys when she came home to see Isabell and Welzia. Isabell convinced Jane to leave the boys with them to raise. So Welzia and Isabell took the boys and raised them. I am not sure what became of the boys' father. Mary Jane later married Pleasant Alexander Davis about 1920. Mary Jane had son Jake C. Arrowood, at about the age of 16 in 1910. She had son James O. "Runt" Arrowood, about two years after Jake. She had a son and a daughter with Pleasant Davis. Jane and Pleasant are both buried at Elmwood Cemetery, Richland County, Columbia, South Carolina.

From Arrowood 2

Mary Jane Arrowood and Pleasant Davis

Another son was born, Joseph H. Arrowood in November 1895. He married a woman named Anna. I am still looking for the rest of his story. He and Anna had two daughters and two sons.

Next came a set of twins! Lewis William Arrowood and Esther Ruth Arrowood, born January 06, 1900. The twins were born in (Relief) Hollow Poplar, Mitchell County, N.C. Lewis William married Edith Davis and had a son, Ray Everette Arrowood. Edith passed on October 13, 1925 and William Lewis remarried to Maude Rose Hull on May 14, 1927.
Lewis and Maude had seven more children. Edith Davis Arrowood is buried at Armstrong Cemetery in Gastonia, NC. William Lewis and Maude Rose Arrowood are buried at Gaston Memorial Cemetery, Gastonia, NC.
Esther Ruth Arrowood married George Henderson Long, Sr. in 1920.
They lived right beside Lewis William and Maude. Esther Ruth and George had three sons and two daughters.

From Arrowood Family Movie File

Esther Ruth and Lewis William Arrowood ~ Twins

Next was Nora Belle Arrowood. Nora Belle was born March 10, 1903 in Mitchell County, in the community of Relief. Nora Belle married Thomas McCollum Sherrin and they had three children. Nora helped me dress on my wedding day. She was a spry and alert woman, up until the day of her death, at age 86 years, still driving herself. She and her husband, Thomas are both buried at Hillcrest Gardens Cemetery, Mount Holly, Gaston County, North Carolina.

Born last to Welzia and Isabell, was a son, named Fred Arrowood. Fred was born May 08, 1904 in Mitchell County, NC. Fred married Lonie Willis and lived in Los Angeles, California at the time of his death. They had four children.

A Love Story II

My grandfather was a widower at the young age of 25. He had a small son with no mother. Almost two years after the death of his first wife, Edith, Lewis William Arrowood remarried. He met and fell in love with another beautiful young woman.

On May 14, 1927, in York, South Carolina, just over the line from North Carolina, he married my grandmother, Maude Rose Hull. York was where everyone went to get married. It was simple, fast and not expensive. Maude was about nineteen years old. She was the daughter of Eli Burton Hull and Vergie Dellinger Hull. Eli Burton and Vergie Hull are buried at Bethel Baptist Church Cemetery, Lincoln County, N.C. Eli Burton was the son of Elias Morgan Hull, born June 17, 1833, in Lincoln County, North Carolina and Margaret (Maggie) Pendleton, born on June 09, 1844. Elias Morgan and Margaret Pendleton Hull are also buried at Bethel Baptist Church Cemetery, Lincoln County, N.C. Maude’s grandfather Elias Morgan, died six days after her marriage to Lewis.

Virgie Dellinger was the daughter of David Alphonso Dellinger and Rachel Rosena Patterson Dellinger. They were both from Catawba County, North Carolina . I have the Hull lineage traced back another three generations back from Elias Morgan. The Dellinger side tracks back about seven more generations from David Alphonso, to Dillingen, Bayern, Germany. They were a prolific lot of people, evidently. Interesting, hardy folk.

The spot where I found the highest concentration of Hull family graves in NC is not very far from where I live, in Hull’s Grove. There, while going to the town well to get water (an everyday event), Vergie Dellinger saw Eli Burton sitting tall upon a horse. She “set her cap” for him and told a friend, “that was the man she was going to marry" , and marry him, she did.

Maude had long dark hair that hung in ringlets. Her hair was dark with very little gray when she died at the age of 74. She smelled of lilacs and roses because of the perfumed sachets she wore, that she kept on her dresser. The smell of her is as familar as my favorite pajama's and I treasure that memory. She was an extraordinary person and the grandma that every little girl dreams of. She was quite a character at times and moved the furniture in the living room, so we could turn cartwheels.

She loved to cook and feed people. You simply could not come into the house without eating something. She was not your typical cook, you never knew what it was going to be. It may have looked like a wonderful chocolate cake, but what ever flavoring she had, she used. So you simply braced yourself.
She had a large glass punch bowl set that my father gave her. Punch was served at ALL Christmas gatherings and there were maraschino cherries in the punch and lots of them. You could scoop all the cherries you wanted and grandma never said a word.

She loved parakeets and had several through the years. She occasionally would let the bird sit in the sun and sometimes the cage would get left open and the little bird would fly away. Not to worry. She would walk out into the yard and call that little bird and sure enough, it would come back to the lady that loved it. The bird would try to nest in her dark curls that she wound on the top of her head and she would laugh at his antics.

The smell of magnolias warming in the sun reminds me of my grandmother. She would float the blossoms in the kitchen sink and the aroma would fill the house. There was a huge magnolia tree in the yard, by the house.

The smell of chicken simmering and warm bread toasting takes me back to that magical kitchen. Once, I had someone tell me that my kitchen smelled just like grandma’s. What a wonderful compliment that was.
Cloves and cinnamon simmering on the stove, chicken dumplings bubbling, those sort of smells take me to my childhood days. Carefree days were spent at my grandparent’s house with lots of laughter and fun.

Grandma was always there to lend an ear. Always ready to give you her full attention and love. She made wonderful handmade gowns, “Maudie” gowns. Each had a signature ribbon of material tied in a bow on the front yoke. The smell of the new material stacked up, with the sunlight streaming in and warming it, is a smell I learned to love. The pedal sewing machine sat out on the porch, where it was cooler in the mornings, I suppose. I could sit under the machine and work the pedal for her, she would always let me even though it had to be a nuisance.

I find myself at that backdoor screened porch in my dreams from time to time. The smell of the material still heavy in my nose as I awake. I instantly wish to go back to sleep and make my way to that sunlit porch.

We would set up a table with chairs out under the walnut tree. She would bring out the linen table cloth and the finest finger food she had. Vienna sausages and saltine crackers. We would sample our fine fare and sip sweet tea from tiny jelly jars. ‘Stand-up’ weenies never tasted so good as under that tree. Somehow that tea turned into the finest wine, the jelly jars into lead crystal goblets, and those sausages turned into caviar.

Grandma’s magic, I suppose.

If I close my eyes and let the fragrance from a magnolia blossom wash over me, and I simply drink it in, I am transported back to that kitchen. I can hear her call out her familiar “whoop-ee” call and hear the small slam of the screen door as it closes behind her. Soon the rhythmic sound of the pedal motion on the machine will start up, then the whirring of the needle in the cloth, and another gown will be made.

I am sad to think that the generations to come will not have a 'Maudie' gown to sleep in. I cherish mine.

I love to decorate for Christmas and so did my grandma. My Dad once told me that the excessive draping of greenery was just the "Maudie" coming out in me. If that is the case, so be it. Glad to have it. We could all use a tad more "Maudie" in us.


**NOTE: I have a portrait of both my grandmothers with that same curl on their forehead..all the rage at the time. My maternal grandmother told me that the girls of that day used a bit of bar soap or sugared water to hold the curl in place.
What a girl won't do to be beautiful. :-)