got to the discussion of Deb’s quilt block and the cloth quilt that it represents. The quilt belonged to Deb’s great-grandmother Lenora VanGuilder Fisher, who lived from 1871 to 1941. Deb smiled when I asked how she came to have the quilt. Deb has no children, and her mother wanted the quilt to be passed down to someone in the family. “That’s why I painted it,” Deb said. “I had seen the blocks on the other buildings and decided I was going to put one up whether it’s sanctioned or not.” The Rineharts admired her work and appreciated the connection to the family quilt and welcomed Deb’s addition to the quilt trail. Deb’s mother was impressed as well, so she gave great-grandmother Lenora’s quilt to Deb. The quilt will eventually go to one of her nieces or nephews, but for now it is Deb’s to enjoy.
Deb said that Drunkard’s Path was associated with the temperance movement, and I asked what she knew about the history. She told us that after the Civil War, a lot of men came home with substance-abuse problems. Also, a lot of those who were immigrating in the early twentieth century, such as Irish Catholics and Jews from Eastern Europe, used alcohol as a part of their religious ceremonies. They weren’t teetotalers like the strict Protestants. Deb wasn’t certain how the quilter felt about alcohol, but she knew one thing for certain. “My grandmother was very much against drink, and she was the one who first showed the quilt to me.” I could understand a quilt being symbolic but wondered how quilt making could have actually supported the temperance movement. Deb explained that quilts might have been sold as fundraisers so that women could pamphleteer. Quilting might also have been a way to bring women together to spread the notion that drinking was evil. Deb said, “A woman in the house who didn’t like alcohol was going to make a man’s life hell and make him quit drinking. Maybe they used it as a way to proselytize among the women. If the scions of the community are anti-drink, the young ladies are going to want to be seen as morally upright people.”
Deb’s quilt, which is not a scrap quilt but is made of just three fabrics, is at least a century old. “I know that the majority of the quilt squares are about the barn and the farm, but mine is about the quilt,” Deb said. “This place has been a farm for a long time, but none of the barns are left. The last one is under that flower patch,” Deb said, gesturing toward the gardens we had admired earlier.
Deb Fisher with her Drunkard’s Path quilt and barn quilt
As we headed back to the lake and dinner, Kitch and I agreed that the day had been a success. The four of us relaxed around a bonfire in the sand that evening while Gracie attempted to stalk the Rinehart’s yellow cat, Murphy. I was concerned, but Kitch assured me that Murphy could handle himself. Moments later a loud yelp confirmed that the cat had taught the seventy-four-pound dog a lesson. Poor Gracie refused to venture outside for the rest of our stay if she glimpsed Murphy anywhere nearby. Gracie’s scratched nose and the cowboy costume that Hugh donned the next morning as he prepared for a shooting competition were the types of memories to which Glen and I would refer often over the next few months. We left Vicksburg knowing that we had made new friends and that we would return.
. . .
Elsie Vredenberg and I had corresponded for several years about the quilt trail she had spearheaded in Osceola County, Michigan. More than ninety barn quilts comprised the trail, and I had eagerly awaited Elsie’s photographs that documented each addition. I was glad to have the opportunity to visit. I met Elsie and committee member Cindy Cambier at Elsie’s home one dreary morning; it was a less than perfect barn quilting day, but our mood was ebullient. Osceola is a large county, and, rather than attempt a comprehensive tour in just a few hours, Elsie had carefully chosen a few of her favorites.
Our first stop was at the Schmidt farm in Reed City. The red barn’s immaculate condition was impressive, but the quilt block looked mighty small. Before my disappointment could set in, Elsie pointed out the full-sized barn quilt on the far end of the barn. Jalayne Markey greeted us and invited us in. She beamed with pride as she told the story of her family’s Blazing Star barn quilt.
Jalayne is the fifth generation of her family on the farm that was founded by her great-great-grandfather, John Schmidt. The barn on which the quilt block hangs was built in 1877, with the house built the following year. Jalayne’s father, Garth, was born on the property in 1918 and farmed there for almost eighty years. “He was out riding his tractor, plowing fields with his nephew two weeks before he died,” Jalayne said.
The family wanted to honor Jalayne’s mother, Elvera, who had been a prolific quilter, with a barn quilt but none of her quilts seemed right for the barn. The family had a Blazing Star quilt made in the 1930s by Jalayne’s great-grandmother to commemorate Elvera’s confirmation, and the colors were a perfect fit. The farm had recently received its sesquicentennial certificate and the accompanying sign, which was hung on the side facing the house. Garth thought that the barn quilt and sign ought to hang together, but Elsie urged Jalayne and her husband, Jim, to place the quilt square on the end where it could be more visible to the public. A compromise was reached whereby the smaller version, which I had seen earlier, was painted by the family.
The family held a celebration for the barn quilt hanging, which included a cake dedicated to Elvera. For the next three years, Garth enjoyed looking out the window to see the family heirloom in place. The farm was founded on June 5, 1863, and Garth passed away on June 6, 2013, the day after the official sesquicentennial date.
Blazing Star
We left the Schmidt farm and drove through the rugged countryside, where Elsie began to point out a series of barn quilts. My favorite was a large gray barn with a Rose of Sharon quilt block. I was excited to hear that we would see the cloth quilt that went with it, but when we entered the home of Wava Woods, there was so much more to see. Wava is a collector, and she surrounds herself with her favorite things. Many were passed to her from childless aunts and uncles and preserved in a room built specially to house them. A long dining table was set with a perfect set of china; nearby were cabinets brimming with more. Teapots, lamps, exquisite embroidered pieces—I could have spent the afternoon plundering.
But of course we wanted to talk about barn quilts. An only child, Wava had come to own four century farms, two from each side of the family. It seemed only fitting that each should be home to a barn quilt. A Feathered Star quilt block that we had passed earlier represented the feather ticks that Wava inherited from her aunts and uncles and made into down pillows. A Nine Patch Variation decorates another family barn and is patterned after a quilt that is over 130 years old.
The Rose of Sharon was taken from a family quilt made by Wava’s Aunt Mabel and her husband, John, sometime in the 1940s. Wava brought the quilt out and spread it so that we could see the pattern as she talked about how popular the quilt had been when entered in shows nearby. The Rose of Sharon barn quilt represents not only the cloth quilt but also Wava’s daughter, Sharon, and her great-aunt, Rosiena. I found it interesting that Rosiena was Wava’s great-aunt on both sides of the family, as aunt to each of her parents. In addition, Wava’s granddaughter has the middle name Rose, so the names associated with the quilt are found in the first, third, and fourth generations of the family.
The barn itself is significant to Wava as the only barn raising in which she took part. “With one loud call and a lot of lifting in all corners, in a few minutes the skeleton structure was standing upright.” Wava did more than observe; she helped the women who prepared food and set it on boards laid across sawhorses so that the workers could come by and pick up food and sit on the grass nearby. Young Wava also carried water from the kitchen stove to granite washbasins that were set on potato crates for the men to clean up before eating.
Wava’s favorite barn quilt is the twelve-pointed star called Moon Lit Woods, which sits on a small barn
