Happy Holidays & Merry Christmas 2005

Christmas 2005

Happy Holidays 2005

We celebrated our grandson’s first birthday in Portland, and our 40th wedding anniversary in Banff.

David moved from California and has joined us in our real estate business.
Craig, Brinton, and Hayden moved from San Francisco to Portland, Oregon.

We will all be together in Madison for Christmas.

The Best To You & Yours,
Gerry & Mary Ann Hubbard

Going Fishin'

Going Fishin'
Marilyn Ann, Gerald Elmer & Clifton Laverne, Mid 1940's

Wayne's Song

Wayne's Song


Wayne’s Song

Wayne Maurice Hubbard passed away, the youngest of five boys
Who with three sibling sisters, brought the Clifton Hubbards joy

Born in 1946, a baby of the “boom”
Came to life in Cobleskill in a dim-lit birthing room

He lived his first years in Gilboa in deep, post-war depression
When young, he dressed in hand-me-downs as the last boy in succession.

Then we moved up to the farm, a place we called “The Hill”
And lived as dairy farmers, with rocky slopes to till.

One day he hit two hammers, steel splinter in his eye
I remember him just blinking and I didn’t see him cry

Another time he hit his head, rope swinging in the barn
And he said, “I think I’m crazy,” his eyes wide with alarm

He loved to sing and harmonize with a voice both sweet and true
He performed one time at the World’s Fair with sisters Carol and Sue

He was a loving boy and man, quick wit and smile so bright
And I’ve got a picture of him as he helped me fix my bike.

I went to see him one last time in north Virginia foliage
He said, “You know, I lived too fast, I should’ve gone to college.”

I played guitar and sang for him the old songs that he loved
“North To Alaska”, “Country Roads”; he hummed “Wings Of A Dove”

I did “You Are My Sunshine”, then through a throaty moan
I heard him say his last request, “The Green, Green Grass Of Home”

Then just before I left he said, “Come on, let’s take a ride”
And we rode with Wanda through the lush Virginia countryside

And though near death, the only thing that preyed upon his mind
Was to make sure I enjoyed my trip and had some small good time

While on his deck, we said goodbye ’neath brilliant Autumn cover
Last words to me: “I love you bro’. It ain’t over till its over”.

He rides his speckled pony now, and it comes through clear and clean
Wayne Hubbard sure did some things bad but never those things mean

And his kind soul and the many generous, loving things he did
Will live long in our memories and in the lives of his six kids.

Wayne Maurice Hubbard passed away, the youngest of five boys……...

In Memoriam: Wayne Maurice Hubbard

Wayne Maurice Hubbard
Born March 11, 1946, Died December 3. 2005


November 22, 2005
Warrington, VA

Dear Wayne:

I want you to know that it has been an honor and privilege to grow up with and know you for all these years.

You should know that the kindness, warmth and wit that is Wayne Maurice Hubbard will long live in the memories of those fortunate enough to know you and also in the lives of your fine children.

We love you bro'.

Gerry Hubbard.


November 22, 2005
Warrington, VA



Dear Wanda:

I want you to know that the love and tenderness you give to Wayne is greatly respected and appreciated.

You can be extremely proud of the extent of your compassionate loyalty that few of us can equal.

With respect,

Gerry Hubbard

Names & Faces

Faces

Names & Faces

Bobby Mace, Rudy Timm, I wonder where these folks have been
Doug Van Aken, Ernie Bevins, some are now in hell or heaven

Hartford Keith, Old Black Burt, Oscar Smith & Dirty Girt
Shirley Richmond, bent & old, Sonny Saup, lean and bold

Ote & Myrtie, Prattsville girls, some of them sure rocked my world
Gerhardt Goodmonk, brother Johnnie, Wild Bill’s kids, one named Ronnie

Kenny Clark, Joe Campenella, young and cool Italian fella
Earnest Breadsley, Franklin Brown, lived around the Gilboa Town

Tom & Betty, Doris & Paul, all the Haskins, cousins all.
Jimmy Cushman from the city, the Gehrken girls all sweet & pretty.

Hayward Newcomb, Earnest Lee, man I sure would like to see
How they lived and how they fared, how they failed and how they dared

This list is long, the memories warm, as life gets further from the farm.
These folks were context, background, texture, and who’d forget Prof Peckham’s lectures.

In this brief flash of light & glee, bounded by eternity,
I hope they lived and danced and laughed and picked sweet flowers as they passed.

And as my dreams and memories blur, I see them still as they once were.
And as my dreams and memories blur, I see them still as they once were……...

Kicked By Cow Talking Blues, Three Chord One Take And To Hell With It

Kicked, Original By Gerry Hubbard

https://hubbardfamilymusic.tumblr.com/post/6725577733/kicked-original-by-gerry-hubbard-pauls-been

Raking With Merel Jr.

Raking With Merle Jr Talking Blues, Gerry Hubbard

Merle Jr. pulled our dump rake with his Chevy pickup truck
And he sure can’t be accused of going slow.
Twenty miles per hour on a steel-wheeled dump rakes fast
And since I did it, I’m the guy to know.

I don’t remember why he came up on the hill that day
I think we might have had a tractor down,
Or he might’ve had his Allis Chalmers baler on the hill,
The one that made the bales completely round.

I think I must have been about the age of eight or nine
And I know that I had rode the rake before,
But I never had to work so hard to keep from falling off
As Merle Jr seemed to gas that truck the more.

The rake tines would come up and hit the seat and bang my butt
As Merle Jr. seemed to speed it up each pass,
And if I missed a "trip",  he’d look back at me and grin
And then I think I heard a devilish laugh.

I never did fall off that rake but sometimes it was close
And we got that hayfield raked in record time.
And though it’s 60 years or so since that one summer day
I still remember all of it just fine.

The clanging rake, the hay seed dust, the clouds behind the hill
And all about a looming threat of rain,
And if I had the chance I’d probably spend my only dime
To go back there and do it all again.

Happy Birthday Hayden Clark Hubbard-10.15.05

Hayden Clark Hubbard At One Year Old

The Warriors

The Warriors Gerald Elmer & Clifton La Verne, Summer 1957

September, 1938

September, 1938

I never thought I'd see the day that I turned sixty seven
I used to think by twenty one, I'd be in hell or heaven

Hunter Thompson shot himself at seventeen plus fifty
And from his note his latter years were anything but nifty

I guess he never thought it through or felt the way I did
I want to live just long enough to burden both my kids.

Old Friends Being Older

Old Friends

From Left To Right: Unknown, Gene Hallock, Maude Bailey Haskin, Almon (Josh) Haskin, Evelyn Haskin, Leonard Haskin, Frances Marietta Barber Hubbard, Clifton John Hubbard

Maude & Almone and Frances & Clifton were at Mom's 16th birthday party.

Happy Birthday David John Hubbard

David John Hubbard Born Sept 13, 1944

Coincidence

The day was 9/11, in the year of double zero when I took my mountain bike out for a ride
All tuned up with brand new tires, new chain & handlebars, that pretty “Specialized” could really glide.

As I rode out to the nuke plant, a 5 mile one-way trip, I noticed that the western sky was black,
Like all of life’s surprises, I didn’t have a clue; I was riding out but wasn’t coming back.

As I got out to the nuke plant and went into the turn, the thought occurred I might be running late
And I often sit & wonder as I think about it now if that fleeting thought determined that day’s fate

I thought I was Lance Armstrong as I rode that bike along and pumping hard to make a quick return
I could feel the cool wind in my face and smell the autumn leaves as I felt my back & legs begin to burn

I came up to a stop sign, a tractor trailer passed and I looked for cars from either left or right,
I thought the road was clear and as I slowed a bit to cross that was when someone turned out the lights.

I felt a flash of burning pain then bumps around my head and I knew that I was flying through the air
Then all went black with sparkling lights of red & green and blue that exploded in a searing brilliant glare.

A Buick going 55 was hidden by a shrub and I did not see her sudden fast approach
She hit me broadside, I flew up, the windshield caught my head, she hit the brakes and that was all she wrote.

I woke up on a stretcher in the gravel by the road, and I heard the sirens wailing, saw the clouds go rolling by
My neighbor Tom has said to me “I saw a bloody mess” and he always says he thought that I would die.

Mary Ann was by my side as the firemen did their work and they prepped me for my ride to the ER
The life flight to the trauma center seemed to take an hour as Tom & Mary Ann came in the car.

Contusions, lacerations, busted leg and broken arm, my helmet left some white scars on my head
Major wounds behind my knee and big cuts on my face and lots of shock because I wasn’t dead.

When I look back and think of all the accidents I’ve had, tractor, truck & car mishaps galore
I think I lost my seventh life that cloudy autumn day & I figure I’ve got just about 2 more.

The moral of the story is remember what you’ve got and never waste your time on little things.
That every next split second could quickly change your life or bring about that dreaded death knell ring.

I still ride my bike and run the highways near my home & rollerblade and have some real good times
But there’s one thing I’m cured of and have been since that day, I do a total halt at all stop signs.

Happy Birthday Douglas Maynard Hubbard

Douglas Maynard Hubbard, Born September 10, 1942

Hayden & Family, Banff, 2005

Banff August, 2005

Happy Birthday Mary Ann Hallenbeck Hubbard

Born August 8, 1943

August angel, shining bright
Sixty two years old tonight

How’d you raise those rowdy kids
And they turned out the way they did

And since the time that we joined hands
Good hearted woman, good timing man

Stayed with me for forty years
Kept your head through joy and tears

Loved your parents, loved mine too
Met all problems, saw them through

May we all see you old & gray
With grand kids ‘round you every day

August angel shining bright
Sixty two years old tonight

Cousins; Early 1940's

Cousins
Left to Right: Barry Taylor, Glenn Taylor, Gerald Elmer

Cousins, Circa 1946 or '47, Still Alive & Kickin'

First Row: Douglas Maynard, Cousin Barry Taylor
Second Row: Marilyn Ann, Cousin Paul Ellis, Gerald Elmer

Picture taken at the side of our house on Hubbard Hill

Hayden Picking Up Bad Habits

Hayden Clark Hubbard

Happy Birthday Craig Evan Hubbard

Craig Evan Hubbard, Born July 18, 1969, Trenton, Michigan.


Chubby baby, laughed a lot
Hardly ever cried
Put a joy in all our hearts
Put our cares aside

Little blond boy, big blue eyes
Playing, running, smiling
A little bit afraid of things
Made him more beguiling

Seemed left-handed & unique
Saw a world of different hue
Always asked the reasons why
And when and where and who

High school kid, had lots of fun
Drove his folks insane
Had his share of teen age ills
Came through all the same

Went to school, became a man
Kept his boyish heart
Always searching for the truth
Taking other’s part

So keep your kindness, songs and smile
And keep your dreams on, up, above
You’ll always be our cherished son
You’ll always have our deep strong love.

The Demise Of Blue Max

Shattered Dreams: Last Show Sunday July 24th at:
http://www.12galaxies.com/home.html

For The Blue Max Web Site:
http://www.bluemax.us/

Happy Birthday Susan Frances

Susan Frances Hubbard Reynolds Ciacci
Born July 15th, 1953

Orrin Hubbard's Suicide

Orrin Hubbard

Sidney, New York. Orrin Hubbard, about 52, shot himself in Sidney, brother of Mrs. Joseph Dingman of Prattsville...Death Notice December 19, 1900

Orrin Hubbard shot himself at Sidney in New York
I wonder what the pressures were that made him pull the cork

Was it the booze or opium, back then the drugs of choice
That made him do that final act to forever still his voice

Undated is his nephew’s death ’neath runners of a sleigh
I wonder if that accident got to him in some way

We’ll never really know, it’s far beyond our minds to figure
To conjure up that small last straw that made him pull the trigger

So Orrin Hubbard ended all his pain and tears and strife
And Orrin Hubbard took a gun, and then he took his life

I guess man’s minds' the only thing that takes the world unleavened
Then cooks a heaven into hell or a hell into a heaven

The Three Musketeers

Three Musketeers 

From Susan's Tribute To Her Mother: "She also renewed her friendship with Aunt Ella & Maude Haskin to the point where they were called the "Three Musketeers" by some of locals"

Maude Marquerite Bailey Haskin, Ella Briggs Hubbard, Frances Marietta Barber Hubbard

The Death Of Charles Hubbard

"Charles Hubbard of Sidney died, drawing ice from the river, caught under sleigh runners."...death notice in Sidney, NY newspaper around 1900.....

Just fourteen words complete it
The ending of a life
No mention of a father
Of children or a wife

It might have been a sunny day
Or one deluged with snow
Or just with winter’s keen cold breath
I guess we’ll never know

I smell the sweating horses
Hear creaking of a sleigh
As Charles tugged and held the lines
The last time on that day

It might have been a patch of ice
A small uneven dip
That caused the team to buck and lunge
And start that fatal slip

About a hundred years ago
From a river hauling ice
Charles Hubbard slipped and fell
And ended then his life.

By Gerry Hubbard June, 20005

Seasons On The Hill

And the seasons would come and the seasons would go
And our whole world would change with the flow
As the sharp verdant springtime resolved in soft focus
As the hills drowned in summer's warm glow
In Autumn, the mountains were like purple haze that muted fall colors soaked through
Then winter's keen breath brought the snow & white frost
And another new year to us, too.

By Gerry Hubbard

Father's And Their Children

Happy Father's Day