Part of my family roots are embedded in Kentucky. My mom and Aunt Ruth were born in Smiths Grove. Their parents, Margaret Louise Walker and Carter Harrison Barner, were born there as well. In fact, several generations of Barners and Walkers came from Kentucky. One of my cousins traced the Barners back to John Barner born in 1705 and Lewis R. Walker in 1798.
Growing up, we made several trips to Kentucky to visit my Grandpa Barner’s (AKA Poppy) mom, Minnie Burton Brite Barner (AKA Old Granny Barner). Poppy’s father, Harry Perry Barner, died in 1919, when Poppy was twenty years old. My mom never knew him because she was born the following year. The only physical evidence I have of Old Granny Barner and Harry Perry being together is this picture taken out in front of their Smiths Grove home. Old Granny Barner outlived her husband by forty years, passing in 1959.
Poppy lived there until he was eleven years old but returned to Smiths Grove in the 1980’s. He purchased his childhood home and lived there until he died in 1989.
When the three kids were very young, we visited Smiths Grove for a family reunion. When I think of Kentucky, I think of three things: tobacco, caves, and horses. We saw all three on that trip. Back then you could see tobacco hanging in barns where it began the drying process. We saw several. We also visited Mammoth Cave with my mom and dad. The cave is a twenty-five-minute drive from the Kentucky homestead. We also went to a horse show on the outskirts of town featuring Friesian horses. At first, I thought they were Tennessee Walkers, but learned they were Friesian from the more experienced horse people on hand. They were the most beautiful horses I’ve ever seen. Truly grand.
The last time I spent time at the house was when Elizabeth was in the fifth grade. She had gone to Space Camp in Huntsville, Alabama. I drove with my mom to Smiths Grove, spent the night, left mom with Poppy and his second wife, Virginia, and made the four-hour drive to Space Camp the next day. I attended the final celebration of the camp with Elizabeth, and then drove her and a friend back to Smiths Grove. We spent the night and headed out early the next morning. The house looked the same that day as it does in the picture.
Ruth and I drove by the house a couple of years ago on our way to Florida. It still looked the same. The long front porch still featured a porch swing and two doors leading out of the house, one from a bedroom and the second from the parlor. I didn’t see a dog sleeping on the porch, but I expect one was roaming around somewhere.
I plan to drive by when we head back to Michigan in May. I’ll be looking for a dog on the porch. Dogs on porches are a Smiths Grove staple.