Uh-Huh

Ladies, have you ever done this?

And guys, have you ever done this?

Of course, you haven't.....uh-huh!

Kelly's Mansion

While reading here, Walking Prescott: The Mysterious Staircase, I was reminded of my own

fascination of old staircases. I remember some that I saw a few years ago, which were really interesting.

The staircase was in an old house, called Kelly's Mansion, and located on Kelly's Island, Ohio, which is located in the Western basin of Lake Erie, and is about four miles square. It's the largest fresh water American Island in Lake Erie. There is a ferry service from Marblehead, and air transportation from Sandusky, Ohio.

I visited there several years ago, when it was just a rustic, nearly primitive, little place with only a few little stores, such as an old grocery store, and various other things. It was a place to camp, to explore, and the glacial grooves, carved into the limestone more than thirty thousand years ago, are there.

Kelly's Mansion was about the only place to stay while there, being used as a hotel of sorts. In its present state then, it was not fancy, but certainly interesting.

According to information available, Irad and Datus Kelly visited the island on July 12, 1833, and by August 31, 1861, they had purchased all except 91 acres for four-thousand-four-hundred-seventy-five dollars...and six cents! They later acquired the other 91 acres.

Kelly's Mansion had been built by Datus Kelly, as a wedding present for his son, Addison. In the front part of the house was a grand spiral staircase.

According to information available, Mr. Kelly had met a man from England in New York who had built one like it, and commissioned him to build one like it for the mansion.

It was constructed from one solid piece of oak, about twenty feet high. The steps were constructed in groups of three, using no nails, and is self-supportive. It was transported by boat from London, England.

During the years that the Kelly family were in residence there, the back stairs were used by the servants whose living quarters were upstairs. On those stairs, imprints are visible...footprints forged there over the years by the many trips their feet made up and down those stairs!

The Kelly Mansion was purchased in 1933, by the Domican Sisters of Adrienne, Michigan, which they used as a retreat and educational center. From 1945 until 1957 it was a summer camp for over 8,000 girls over the years.

The nuns, and twenty of the girls in residence, restored the staircase to its original conditiion. After the restoration, the stairs were used for graduatiion purposes only, when the girls would be allowed to descend the staircase.

This is a sketch that I did of the Kelly Mansion when I visted there.

Did You Ever Wonder

Did you ever wonder what children really think about? Do you remember what you thought about? Can you still remember the emotions you felt? Do you remember fear? Do you remember feelings of security? Do you remember the emotion elicted by a harsh tone of voice, or an endearment? I do...and that is why I can never be deliberately harsh, or cruel, with anyone...especially a child.

When I was a very young little girl, my mother and I lived with her mother. My mother, nor my grandmother were ever mean or harsh with me. I was very blessed in this way, but I always felt very empty, and lonely inside, and no matter how many others were around, I still felt that deep lonliness which I was not even old enough to understand.

The greatest desire of my heart, even at that young age, (I think that I was only about three at that time because that is how far back that I can remember) was to have a daddy. I had never had a real daddy, my own father having left my mother while I was just a baby. I would see other children, other little girls with their daddies, and I would envy them, I suppose, not really understanding the meaning of the word...I just knew that I wanted what they had.

We lived in a little house on Canal Street, in Cedartown, Georgia. I know that it was my mother, my grandmother, and myself in that house, and I remember a couple of uncles, only teenagers, really, but I don't remember Papa being there, so possibly my grandmother, who was a widow, had not remarried at the time.

There was a little girl who lived about two houses away from us, and she had a real family. Sometimes, I remember that we would play together, until one or the other of us got called into supper. When she was called in, I had to go home.

I remember this one time, that they called her in to eat supper, and I only pretended to go home. I waited until I knew that they would all be in the kitchen, eating. It was warm weather, and as everyone else did, they had the backdoor to the kitchen open, It had a screen door, which was the common thing, too, which allowed a cool breeze to blow into the kitchen.

I stood at the back steps for awhile, just listening to the voices rising and falling in conversatiion, with an occasional outburst of laughter. I stood there, just soaking in the sounds, and the smells, and the feelings that I felt. Finally, I could stand it no longer, and walked up onto the porch, and stood at the screen door, leaning inward against the screen, with my hands cupped around my eyes, so that I could see more clearly.

There they all were...a mama, a daddy, and a little girl. A family. A word that I did not even know the meaning of, and probably had never heard it in conversation, but I knew what it was. It was the thing that I wanted with all of my heart.

I was not even aware of anything but what was before me. I was not aware that they could even see me...I had not even thought about it. But suddenly a harsh voice rang out, "What is she doing here? Who told her she could be here? I thought I told you to tell her to go home!"

It seemed as if my breath stopped. I was frozen. I didn't know what to do. Then I heard the soft voice of the father, saying, "Awww..let her come in, and give her something to eat. She's probably just hungry."

"No! No, I will not! She will go home where she belongs, right now!" In anger, she jumped up, and ran toward the door, shooing me like an animal. "Git outta here...go home where you belong!"

I turned and ran, stumbling home, blinded with tears. I hadn't wanted food. I hadn't wanted anything, but to stand there and look at them...that's all I wanted. I wanted to see a happy mama, daddy, and little girl.

I can't describe to you the emotion that I felt. It was a crushing, heavy, constricting feeling that seemed to fill my throat with an ache that went down through my whole body...cutting off my breath.

I remember sitting out on the steps of Big Mama's back porch. It was about dusky dark, and the evening was warm, but I was cold, through and through. I shivered, but I am not sure it was from feeling cold. I stared at an old dead tree that was back there, and thought that that was how I felt inside. I felt sorry for that dead old tree.

I have never, even after all these years, forgotten a single detail of that day, and I don't think that I ever will. And that is why I could never, in a million years, be unkind to a child...because the hurt never goes away. Not even if it is buried deep inside where no one else can know about it, it is still there.