so much depends upon a red...
glazed with...
beside the white...
Friday, September 09, 2022
Monday, April 12, 2021
April 12, 1963, The Frances Hubbard Diaries
12 April 1963
Friday, Sunny and warmer 40. Kids home for Easter vacation. We went to Oneonta and got the girl's shoes and hats. We went to Middleburg at night to the Gospel service. Clifton was called from the hall to go to work Monday at Poughkeepsie.
Comment: Good news for Dad. The "hall" that called was the hall of the International Union Of Operating Engineers of which Dad was a long-time member. Poughkeepsie is about a 2-hour drive from Hubbard Hill so Dad will commute for 4 hours a day plus probably work 10 hours a day, six days a week. The starting time will be anywhere from 6 to 8 am, so he will have to leave the house at either 4am or 6am. They do not have dairy cows now, but when they did, that would entail him helping Mom, LaVerne and I start the morning milking before he left. For an early start, he would get up at 3am or so. Here is a previous post about Dad that talks about his work:
Thursday, December 24, 2020
Hubbard Census, 1940 & 1929
HOUSEHOLD MEMBERS: |
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Sunday, July 26, 2020
A Brief History We Should All Understand, John 15:12
One more time. In case it’s still unclear.
400 years ago white people brought black people over here and enslaved them.
And then 150 years ago white people "freed" black people from slavery.
And then 60 years ago we made it "legal" for black people to vote, and to be "free" from discrimination.
But angry white people still fought to keep schools segregated. And closed off neighborhoods to white people only.
And made it harder for black people to get bank loans, or get a quality education or health care, or to (gasp) marry a white person.
And then we entered an age where we had the technology to make PUBLIC the things that were already happening in private-- the beatings, the stop and frisk laws, the unequal distribution of justice, the police brutality (police began in America as slave patrols designed to catch runaway slaves).
White privilege doesn't mean you haven't suffered or fought or worked hard. It doesn't mean white people are responsible for the sins of their ancestors. It doesn’t mean you can’t be proud of who you are.
It DOES mean that we need to acknowledge that the system our ancestors created is built FOR white people.
It DOES mean that no one is lesser or greater because of their skin color and it DOES mean that we owe it to ourselves and our neighbors-- of all colors-- to acknowledge that and work to make our world more equitable.
400 years ago white people brought black people over here and enslaved them.
And sold them.
And treated them as less than human.
For 250 years.
While white men formed the country and created its laws and its systems of government.
While 10-15 generations of white families got to grow and flourish and make choices that could make their lives better.
And then 150 years ago white people "freed" black people from slavery.
But then angry white people created laws that made it impossible for them to vote. Or to own land. Or to have the same rights as white people.
And even erected monuments glorifying people who actively had fought to keep them enslaved.
And even erected monuments glorifying people who actively had fought to keep them enslaved.
All while another 5, 10 generations of white families got to grow and accumulate wealth and gain land and get an education.
And then 60 years ago we made it "legal" for black people to vote, and to be "free" from discrimination.
But angry white people still fought to keep schools segregated. And closed off neighborhoods to white people only.
And made it harder for black people to get bank loans, or get a quality education or health care, or to (gasp) marry a white person.
All while another 2-3 generations of white families got to grow and pass their wealth down to their children and their children's children.
And then we entered an age where we had the technology to make PUBLIC the things that were already happening in private-- the beatings, the stop and frisk laws, the unequal distribution of justice, the police brutality (police began in America as slave patrols designed to catch runaway slaves).
And only now, after 400+ years and 20+ generations of a white head start, are we STARTING to truly have a dialog about what it means to be black.
White privilege doesn't mean you haven't suffered or fought or worked hard. It doesn't mean white people are responsible for the sins of their ancestors. It doesn’t mean you can’t be proud of who you are.
It DOES mean that we need to acknowledge that the system our ancestors created is built FOR white people.
It DOES mean that no one is lesser or greater because of their skin color and it DOES mean that we owe it to ourselves and our neighbors-- of all colors-- to acknowledge that and work to make our world more equitable.
Saturday, May 11, 2019
The Life And Times Of Frances Marietta Hubbard In Audio And Pictures
Wednesday, April 03, 2019
Clifton LaVerne Hubbard, Life And Times Memories
Take a listen: The Life & Times Of Clifton LaVerne Hubbard In Audio
Take A Look: The Life And Times Of Clifton LaVerne Hubbard In Pictures
Sunday, September 30, 2018
Tuesday, June 19, 2018
Douglas Maynard Hubbard. September 10, 1942 - January 15, 2018, Age 75
Celebration Of Life
Introductions- me, Michael, Matt, Doug
We’d like to thank you all for coming.
Today we’re here to celebrate the life of Doug Hubbard a father, grandfather, brother, Uncle and friend.
Our dad was a simple man who brought joy to many in his own way. He often found it difficult to express his feelings, but he loved his family so much.
While morning a loss brings closure, celebrating a life well lived allows us all to remember the relationships we had with my dad and to honor him with laughter and love. Today is a day to enjoy family, friends and Hubbard Hill, a place our Dad loved and lived from his birth to his death. We’ll miss him, but celebrate Doug each day as I will by enjoying the little things in life. It would make him smile.
There are so many memories and we welcome you to share yours.
My memories run deep. Trips almost every year, when we were young, to California, Florida, Ohio. If we weren’t on a road trip out of state we headed to lake George, north south lake, Catskills Game Farm, NYC or some other adventure. The times were different and we spent days and days together driving. When I look back I think these were some of the best days for my dad and each and every trip included family. We’d crash at our Aunts and Uncles houses spending time with you.
My dad was also a very hard worker. He built his house. Dougie and I were to young to be working alongside him on the house, but his brothers pitched in. Then once we could lift a shovel he enlisted our help in building the porch, garage and on many other projects. Personally I think way too many projects. Then at some point, I can’t remember when, I realized this was his time to spend with us and teach us the lessons of hard work.
One of the saddest things I’ve ever heard was about 5 years ago. I was out here without the family. Dad looked at me and said that one of his biggest regrets was not staying with my mom. Wow! I was 16 when they separated and 29 years had passed. He was alone! He wasn’t asking for sympathy. It was his way of telling me to love my family, Elizabeth, Frances, and Wyatt. To hold them close and never let them go. Some damn good advice I’ll be sure follow.
One last thing. My dad loved to mow! If the grass was over 1/4 inch it was time to get it cut. As kids we were introduced to push lawn mowers, then riding mowers. Which meant, to us, we could drive. I recall from that point forward, at the age of 11 or 12, that we’d drive the lawn tractors, 48 Willy’s, maybe an allis charmer and even the car up the hill to this house grandma’s house. The Jeep was the best. Dad bought it, got it running, painted it orange, and put Mohave wheels on it and boy did it run. We’d drive that thing up to the tower through the field and up the old truck route. We’d even take it on the roads. Dad never said anything and always kept the tank full of gas. Now as a kid that was pretty damn cool!
Yeah, my Doug was cool, caring and kind! We’ll miss him!
Thanks again for coming to celebrate our dad, Douglas Maynard Hubbard.
Turn over to Michael....
Jeffrey B. Hubbard
November 6, 1963
Wednesday, cloudy and warm, some rain. I wrote to Doug and Marilyn, did the ironing. LaVerne and Roberta up in the evening. Doug called and said he was on ship and would be home over the weekend thenTues 12 to the Mediterranean back on the 23 etc.Comment: Doug getting ready to ship out...he was on the USS Denebola AF56, It was built in Portland, OR and was a refrigerated provisions stores ship The ship is named for a star, as are other ships of this type. Denebola is a second magnitude star in the constellation of Leo the Lion. In fact, the name "Denebola" comes from the Arabic for "Tail of the Lion." Here is a link to an amateur web site about the ship: If you click on the link "Cruise Books" you can see what it might have been like on the ship...I could not find Doug in the crew pictures.......
http://www.ussdenebola.org/Denebola.htm
Kids And Guns
Marilyn, Marna, Doug, Wayne & David With Make Believe Guns
When I was about 12 years old in the dairy barn on Hubbard Hill, I came within a heartbeat of shooting my brother Doug with a deer slug from a 12 gauge double-barrelled shotgun my father owned.
Before that, when we lived in the house down in Gilboa in probably 1948, my brother LaVerne, came within a hairs breadth of shooting my mother with a single-barrel 12 gauge shotgun loaded with number 4 bird shot.
Shotguns and rifles were always around where we grew up, standing in the corners of various rooms, carried in the trunks of cars and bodies of pickups. I remember double and single barrel shotguns, pump, bolt-action and semi automatic rifles and shotguns in the homes of my uncles, family friends and our own house. We started shooting and hunting at eight or nine years old and I shot my first deer when I was fourteen. I remember playing with shotgun shells and .30-30 cartridges pretending they were artillery shells in make-believe war games when I was probably about eight years old.
Sometimes, we would cut the shot or slug off the end of a shotgun shell so just the wadding would come out when the gun fired. The was kinda like a loud cap gun and we would play war and cowboys and Indians with the guns. Cap guns were a very popular Christmas present for many kids at the time.
In the barn with Doug, I got the idea of after cutting the slug out of the shell, that I would roll the slug back down the barrel and that when I shot it, the slug would just roll out the end of the barrel.
The original plan was for Doug to stand in front of the gun while I fired but for some reason I decided to test it first by firing at a cast iron support post about four inches in diameter from about three feet away.
To my shock and amazement, there was a tremendous blast from the 12 gauge shotgun and the slug almost penetrated the cast iron post leaving a large dent about an inch and a half in diameter. The shot would of have killed Doug where he stood with a massive wound to his mid-section.
Until the barn was torn down, just about every time I went up on the hill, I would go in the barn, take a look at that dent and contemplate what would have happened had I not test fired first and how incredibly lucky I and Doug were that I had not killed him.
The incident with LaVerne and my mother also sticks in my mind. My mother was hanging clothes on the line to dry at the Gilboa house when LaVerne pulled down on her kiddingly with the twelve gauge. I remember Mom scolding LaVerne about pointing the gun and how dangerous it was and LaVerne insisting that the gun was not loaded. For some reason, he did not fire and decided to show Mom the gun was empty. When he opened it up, it was loaded.
I also heard of some wild boys holding .22 cartridges with pliers and hitting them with another hard object to make them fire and of other boys playing cowboys and Indians with .22s and firing live ammo at each other. Our family did not do that.
“Isn’t that dangerous?” “You damn betcha” replied the old grizzled Texas Ranger when asked about the loaded and cocked six-gun he carried on his hip.
And it was and it still is. And we were lucky to live through it....
January 15, 1965
Friday, cold, cloudy 10 high then -10. I washed in am, made girl's night gowns in am. Wayne, David and girls picked up Doug at 6:30 pm at Kingston. David and Doug were home all night.
Comment: Amazing, David and Doug did not go out...worth a comment from Mom anyway......here are the "younger kids" sometime in the late fifties.....see the snow in the background......
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| Doug, David, Susan, Wayne, Carol |
Doug's birthday. Sunny, windy, hot, 80. I washed in am, picked corn and put 12 quarts in the freezer. Had letter from Marilyn. Doug came home at night, late at 3:30 Saturday am and went on mail route with Wayne.
Comment: Another busy day. Here is Doug and David on the hill probably late forties. The 1934 Ford in the right background was wrecked when it was on the hill in front of the house without a brake on and the snow and ice melted underneath the tires and it rolled done the hill across a hay lot and hit a tree. It might have happened right around the time this picture was taken. In the upper right, you can see the un-melted snow along a fence line Happy Birthday Doug...
March 16, 1964
Monday, sunny, very windy, 70's I washed, did some mending. Had letter from Gerald and a card from Doug saying he was back in Virginia March 15.
Thursday, July 29, 1965
Nice day. I washed in am. Went after the girls at Roberta's 130 pm. They and I went to camp at nite and I watched them swimming after the meeting.
Comment: Not sure where the camp was....Brothers.....Jeffery And Dougie...
Thursday, 6 October, 1966, The Frances Hubbard Diaries
Partly cloudy, windy 40's high. I put vinyl on windows upstairs and sewed. Carol home with a cold. I went to prayer meeting at night, then, at 945 pm, Carol and I went after Doug in Kingston. David left 930 am driving for Timberland.
Comment: Frost must be in the air, again a pretty busy day ending probably after midnight....Michael and Dougie on the hill in front of the old desk.....
March 2, 1964
Monday, rainy clearing in pm. Had letter from Dougie, did some mending. Liz Walters was here for dinner.
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| Hubbard Hill, about 1946 or so |
Here's a picture of Doug and me in front of the house, I think just after WWII. LaVerne's bike is in the background. The place is unpainted, windows are out, porch railing destroyed. These were probably the worst economic times on the hill....
January 22, 1963
Tues Cold windy 0 in am 20 in pm. Doug took our car to Oneonta and took train from there to Albany for a physical and tests for the Navy. They told him a specialist would need to look at his eye. David, Clifton and I went to Cobleskill and Mothers for dinner, she had been about sick with cold.
Comment: Doug's eye was hurt when he and I were hunting woodchucks from my Dad's 1938 Buick. The car in the picture is a '38 Buick and the rifle is very similar to the one we used: A pump action with tube magazine. I drove straight into a tree at about 35 miles per hour while trying to clear the jammed loading tube. Doug hit his head severely on the metal dash of the car and permanently injured his eye. He was ten years old and I was fourteen. Here is a SongPoemStory I wrote about it.
Hunting Woodchucks
Hubbard Music Mountain: Doug I Hunting Woodchucks Talking Blues Gerry Hu...:
Doug I Hunting Woodchucks
Doug and I took Dad’s old car out hunting one spring day
To hunt woodchucks with a .22 on the road toward Conesville way
Me fourteen and Doug was ten in a Buick ‘38
An old pump action .22 with the feed tube not quite straight
No air bags, seat belts, padded dash, soft steering wheels back then
Just a metal box and rigid steel, cast iron and plated tin
We started over the “cross” road, the day was bright and still
Turned right by Raymond Goodfellows then on down Fancher’s hill
Doug was fooling with the gun trying to load some shells
As we came up to Bob Cammer’s place, that farm he kept so well
As I looked over toward the gun and turned my head to see
I drove that damned old Buick straight into a big Oak tree
The horn popped out and hit my face, the steering wheel jammed my chest
And Doug bounced off that metal dash, then all just came to rest
Smoke and steam poured from the hood, the motor screaming, rough
Then I reached down and found the key and turned that damned thing off
Alton Brand was driving by and stopped and pulled us out
He said, “ It was the damndest thing I’d seen or thought about.”
“That car was going down the road as straight as straight can be
“It didn’t brake or make a curve, just drove into that tree”
The State Police came out that night to make out their report
Dad had to say I stole that car to keep us out of court
The trooper took me to the porch and said his terse, brusque talk
“The next time you go hunting things, I think you’d better walk”
So at age 14 I’d wrecked a car and hurt my brother’s eyes
And I guess the thing I think about as years and months fly by
Malaria, bike accidents, close calls in cars and trucks
Living long and getting old takes lots and lots of luck.
Friday, 12 October, 1962, The Frances Hubbard Diaries
Columbus Day. Partly cloudy, windy, warm, 70 degrees. No school. Doug and Wayne went to Cobleskill to Doctor's. Sue and I sayed here. Carol was down to Marilyn's. Sophie McGuire died.
Comment: both boys going in for checkups, Wayne for the appendectomy, Doug for the hand he cut with an axe......David, Doug, Wayne in 1947 on Hubbard Hill.....
Columbus Day. Partly cloudy, windy, warm, 70 degrees. No school. Doug and Wayne went to Cobleskill to Doctor's. Sue and I sayed here. Carol was down to Marilyn's. Sophie McGuire died.
Comment: both boys going in for checkups, Wayne for the appendectomy, Doug for the hand he cut with an axe......David, Doug, Wayne in 1947 on Hubbard Hill.....
Thursday, 24 November, 1966, The Frances Hubbard Diaries
Thanksgiving Day. Cloudy but warm, 52. Just David, Doug, girls, Clifton and I here. Wayne's here in evening. Doug ran off the road near LaVerne's and LaVerne brought him home. Jammed car roof. Doug and David went on Hall's Mountain toward night hunting. Doug was nearly shot. We called Marilyn in pm.
Comment: A dangerous day for Doug....one of many on the Hill as the guns, farm animals and farm equipment occasioned many close calls. I almost shot Doug with a 12 gauge. We used to cut the slug out of a shotgun shell and shoot just the wadding, kinda like a big blank shot. So I had the idea that if I just rolled the slug back down the barrel and then fired it, the slug would just roll out the end of the barrel. I almost had Doug stand in front of it to test it when I changed my mind and aimed the gun at a round cast iron support post in the barn and pulled the trigger. Of course, the slug came out full velocity and made a large and permanent dent in the pole, much to my horror at the time.....I was about twelve and Doug about eight years old......that post became a marveling focal point for me whenever I worked in or visited the barn in later years...here is what Doug said about the incidents through Michael: "I asked about the car and he said it just slid off the road, down the bank, onto some trees which damaged the roof. He went to LaV’s, called home and Wyckoff’s got it out. As for almost being shot, he and Uncle David were walking along and heard a gun shot and a slug bullet went between them. He said he could actually see the bullet and it sounded like a bee….bzzzz". 27821
Tuesday, 31 July, 1962, The Frances Hubbard DiariesThunder showers early am, cloudy. I washed. Marilyn, Mary and kids here in am. Carol went home with them. Doug hit LeRoy's cow with Gerald's car.
Comment: I'd bought an Oldsmobile for $35. It ran good and I was going to paint it up and sell it. I'd finished the primer and Doug was using it. Not sure it was licensed. The impact wrecked the hood and I ended up junking it in the woods. Doug was not hurt.....shit happens.....hitting cows was not uncommon. I've hit several and once one of our own....this pix is very close to what I saw when I hit on of Dad's cows with his car...cow was ok, little damage to car.....our cow was white....
Monday, 19 December, 1966, The Frances Hubbard Diaries
Clear, sunny and cold, 5 above early. I washed and wrote more cards, did ironing. Doug called 8pm and girls and I met him in Kingston 1115 pm.
Comment: Doug must have the week off....Doug in California....holding Dean, Patty, Jim, Marna, at the Grand Canyon...must have been early sixties....
Thursday, 22 September, 1966, The Frances Hubbard Diaries
Cloudy, warmer, rainy, 50's. I got up with sick headache and didn't do much all day. I went to prayer meeting at night. The girls and I went after Doug at 12:45 am. Got home 4 am. Clifton home late. Doug was sick with intestinal upset.
Comment: A long day with a sick headache....Doug in California with Dean.....
Wednesday, 31 October, 1962, The Frances Hubbard Diaries
Rainy and cloudy, Clifton home early. I had a sick headache all day. Carol and Sue went home with Linda and went trick or treating. Clifford and Glenn were here after hay, said Lorraine was in hospital.
Comment: Clifford was my uncle married to Dad's sister Evelyn. They had three children, James Barry, Glenn Clifford and Yvonne. At this point Glenn had about two and a half years to live, dying in April, 1964 of kidney disease at the age of 21. Yvonne (Bonnie) died in 1998 of breast cancer. Barry is living in Louisiana. Another "blue baby" named David died shortly after birth some time in the early fifties. Aunt Evelyn suffered through the deaths of three of her children....here is a picture of Glenn as a toddler with my brother Douglas Maynard, probably about 1945 or so....
Tuesday, 16 October, 1962, The Frances Hubbard Diaries
Fair, warm, 75, a beautiful day. Madalyn, Louvilla and I went to church and varnished. Had headache.
Comment: And her headache was probably no from the fumes but a "sick headache" she was plaqued with...Mom with brood, except for me, I took the picture..1st row: Clifton LaVerne, Frances Marietta, Douglas Maynard, 2nd row: Wayne Maurice, David John, Carol Sylvia, back row: Susan Frances, Marilyn Ann...missing Gerald Elmer
Sunday, 10 September, 1962, The Frances Hubbard DiariesWent to church and Sunday School and to Catskill after fruit and to church and Sunday School and to Catskill after fruit in pm and to church at night.
Comment: Busy Sunday. Today is brother Douglas Maynard Hubbard's
birthday...here he is in 1950 on the hill with his brothers. Here is my great uncle Maynard Laraway's history....
Saturday, September 4, 1965
Lovely day. We went to Middleburgh in am to have car serviced and to Cobleskill in pm for shopping. Drove over to Rudy's but no one home. Gone to Milliard Ruso's wedding. Cut our Carol's dress and started it.
Comment: Not sure who Milliard is.....the older Hubbard kids, probably about 1947 or so, Gerald, 8, Douglas, 4, David, 2, Marilyn, 11, LaVerne 14..all ages approximate, cute bunch of kids...what happened.....thanks Susan for the pix..From Randy Blaksley:
Millard Ruso was the son of Neta and Ronald . Neta is my father’s sister.
Click Links Below For More Pictures About Doug....Douglas Maynard Accident Site
Douglas Maynard Hubbard...Pictures Through The Years
Doug's Celebration Of Life, June 2018 On Hubbard Hill
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