quilt block was also the name of the property. Right after Wava and her husband, Dale, were married, Wava’s father became ill, so the farm would have to be sold if the new generation could not take over. Dale worked in a factory and had cows of his own, and Wava worked at the hospital, but there was no other choice. Wava said, “We came home with our cows, tractor, and house trailer just like gypsies traveling down the road.” At that point anything that got done on the farm was done by moonlight, so paired with their last name, Moon Lit Woods became the new name of the farm.
The Moon Lit Woods quilt block has twelve points: for Wava and Dale, their two children and their spouses, and Wava and Dale’s six grandchildren. A dark blue background represents the night sky, yellow the moon, and, at the bottom of the block, five evergreen trees were painted to represent the couple’s five living grandchildren. The trees are all of different heights, as the children were as well. At the suggestion of their son, John, a sixth tiny tree was added to honor his daughter Elice, the grandchild who had lived only two days, so that she could stand next to her surviving twin, Katlin.
Rose of Sharon
Wava Woods’s Rose of Sharon quilt
Snail’s Trail
Wava had so much to share that I could have stayed all day, but Elsie had mentioned a very special quilt block that I wanted to see. In late afternoon, we headed to nearby Cadillac, where Elsie was working to get a new quilt trail started, for the last visit of the day. I had admired the Octagonal Building and was especially drawn to it because the quilt block was an exact replica of the Snail’s Trail that Donna Sue and Maxine Groves had on their barn. Elsie could not have chosen a better tribute, and Donna Sue had already told me how much she appreciated the gesture. The thoughtful mood was broken as we entered the building and I realized that I would be discussing such an important quilt block with a clown.
Rudy Grahek is known to many as Dynamite the Clown. He had not dressed the part, but Rudy’s exuberant smile and energetic storytelling gave the impression that he was good at his job. Rudy shared memories of growing up near the fairgrounds. “I could see the Octagonal Building from my bedroom window, and I thought there must be a carousel inside. It seemed monstrously large as a kid.” It was built in 1907 for the fair that would take place on the new grounds the following year. Over the years, the building fell into disrepair, but in 2008, for the one hundredth anniversary of that first fair, a restoration was begun. The local home builders association and the fair board, of which Rudy was a member, were instrumental in the project.
According to Rudy, the building was used as a marker for pilots, as the fairgrounds also functioned as an airport. The field had been cleared of stones and stumps for the fair, creating a large area that was safe for landings. The flag at the top of the building would act as a windsock. Rudy shared a bit of lore, stating that if there was no flag present another way to determine the wind’s direction was to look at horses nearby, as they will stand facing into the wind to keep it out of their ears.
I had never met a clown, so I had to ask Rudy just a bit about his life. He bubbled over with excitement. “When we were kids, everyone else drew pictures of town, but I drew circus tents and elephants.” He left the fairground in 1952 with one of the largest circuses, but was soon drafted to go to Korea and returned to travel with another circus, then later with carnivals. “I patterned my life after Red Skelton,” he said. “You know, Freddie the Freeloader?” I left Cadillac smiling, having ended the day on just the right note.
canada
I HAVE TRAVELED enough to know that political boundaries are seldom accompanied by geographical change, but still I was surprised that Canada looked much like the American Midwest. Highways cut through farmland set into gentle hills, and small towns were surrounded by familiar chain restaurants and stores. Glen and I found the crowns on the highway signs amusing and the place names difficult to sort out; I am still not certain that I understand the difference between a county and a municipality. But with the help of electronic navigation, we managed to find our way to the motel in Chatham, Kent, that would be our home for the next few days.
Glen and I spent a full day driving the western fringes of Ontario, passing dozens of farms whose weathered barns were clearly of earlier vintage but were accompanied by massive solar panels. “Pretty impressive,” Glen said. “Those farmers in the Midwest are behind the times.” A side trip took us to Erieau, on the shores of Lake Erie, where we meandered through the boats in the marina and rode our bicycles along the chilly shore. It was only September, but I yearned for a hat and gloves, not having thought to grab them from the bus. After a day of playing tourist, I was ready to explore Ontario’s quilt trail.
When I had first heard from Denise Corneil and Mary Simpson, they were in the early stages of an unusual barn quilt project. The women were designing a thirty-block barn quilt trail that would tell the story of Wardsville founder George Ward, who emigrated from Ireland in 1810 to establish a stopping point for travelers in the region. I loved the idea. Many barn quilts or even sections of a quilt trail have ties to history, but a man’s life story told through quilt blocks was unique.
Bounty from the Thames
Another unusual twist was having a cloth sampler quilt created prior to the quilt trail’s inception. Denise and a group of local quilters chose thirty blocks to create the George Ward Commemorative Quilt, a brilliantly colored design. The quilting was completed by many in the community, as the quilt was pieced and then kept in a central location so that anyone who wished to do so—whether an experienced quilter or not—could add a few stitches. The quilt travels to area events and is an effective way to draw attention to the barn quilt project.
The first block, chosen to represent Ward’s origins, was Double Irish Chain, a very popular pattern in the early nineteenth century. Cross, Country Church, and Stained Glass Windows stand for Ward’s faith, while some quilt blocks tell the story of Ward’s military service and loyalty to Britain. Ward’s travels by river to Ward’s Landing are first represented by Compass and Crossed Canoes, then, as he approached his new destination, by Wagon Tracks and Woodland Path.
Denise and I visited one of the Wardsville barns, home to a Fish quilt block. I had seen the pattern a number of times along the quilt trail, and I love its many variations. The block has an additional name here, Bounty from the Thames. Native communities had settled along the river and used it as a source of food. When the earliest settlers arrived, learning the most effective fishing methods gave them access to this abundance, making the river and its fish key to the development of Wardsville.
Barn owner John Johnston is glad to be part of the quilt trail. “It was just my luck that Denise was looking for barns,” he said. He grew up on a nearby farm but knew little about the founding of Wardsville. John enjoys informing visitors about the quilt trail and dispelling their fears that the barn quilts might indicate membership in some sort of secret society. “Now I try to talk it up and tell people about George Ward,” he said. I smiled when he said that he always mentions that the quilt trail started in Ohio.
Denise shared an amusing story about work on the Wardsville project. The group was desperate for a place
