This article is long overdue. About three months have gone by since I was first charged to write it. But like most modern day Americans I too suffer from the plague of procrastination. And now that all excuses have been sorely made and poorly received, let’s begin!
Our past year's reunion on October 8, 2011, marks the 8th since the Nethery cousins first attempted to draw all twelve branches back together again.
On our last visit with cousin Dixie Nethery Sparks, she gave me a glimpse into reunions of the past. Then it was far simpler with nearly everyone living so closely together. A reunion then was a visit to “Grandpa and Grandma’s house” for Sunday dinner. In the fall, all the grandchildren would go out to the old pecan tree where Grandpa Nethery instructed them to take off their stockings. They spent the afternoon filling their stockings with pecans and enjoyed being together as a family. Grandpa Charlie also made sure they each were treated with some candy from the store!
Were my Great-Grandpa C.A. and Great-Grandma Amanda alive today I wonder what they would think of our reunions? Now instead of filling our stockings with pecans, we have auctions in the church and hayrides to the cemetary and the family store. Two things haven’t changed much I believe, however. One is that we still enjoy being together as a family, albeit distant one. And second, we haven’t lost our affinity for good cooking!
This year’s reunion was hosted by Dot Nethery Spain and her bunch, surrounded by the musical stylings of her children and spouses. (And a special guest appearance by Bob Wood.) Celtic, bluegrass and old hymns brought out our family’s genealogical and spiritual roots. The only thing I would have liked better about it is for the music to last longer and to dance a good jig.
Food changed from bar-be-cue to Texican, in honor of the heritage of the land.
The auction was fabulous as ever with the talents of Gene Nethery and his lovely assistant "Vanna White". Hopefully everyone is enjoying their contributions to the scholarship fund and making this reunion available for years to come.
My mother asked me to do the reunion article this year. I thought of a dozen different ways I could write this. I could go into detail over the atmosphere, sights, taste and sound. But many of you reading this were there to experience it. And those of you who weren’t, know from years past how interesting and fun the Nethery family can be. So instead I want to give you a glimpse into the next Gen’s mind.
From the time I was five years old, my family has been making the long haul back and forth to Milam as we rescued the old family farmhouse from the destruction brought on by the elements, neglect and former "renters". Each trip for me was magical and a wild adventure. Through these trips I learned how to go for days without a shower, hike miles in the thicket while trying to find old tool shops, how to make the woods your toilet and how to fire an automatic rifle with the boys. Through a child’s eyes each trip down was an adventure unlike anything back home.
I was raised by a mother gifted with a love for genealogy and history and she dutifully imbued this love to me. No one else that I grew up with knew their great-great grandparents’ names and history or where they came from. No one could relate with me in the big city when I tried describing my family in East Texas. Most people don’t bother to keep in touch with their second and third cousins removed. In the fast paced world we live in there is barely enough time to keep in touch with children and siblings and parents. How different a world from the stories I grew up hearing from my Dad around the fireside.
While my Dad and brothers rebuilt the family farmhouse , my mother rebuilt our neglected heritage. It is the place that my Great-grandpa Napoleon Bonaparte Mason, Jr. bought from his brother and worked most of his life. It is the place my Great-Uncles Cleon, Conrad and Roy put their sweat and tested their mettle each grueling year of their youth. It is the place my Nanny, Era Nethery Mason spent hours filled with endless chores, aided by her daughters Louise and Thelma. It is the place we took my Grandma to during her last years to see one last time. Every corner of that farm house, every patch of land holds a memory for us.
During Grandma Wood’s last visit I sat with her on the front porch and in her mother’s old room staring into the fireplace. I remember her smiling to herself often. I can still hear her laughter as she told me stories of her childhood there. I wonder what memories she recalled as we sat together illuminated by the golden flames.
I was partly named after Louise Mason Wood, her only granddaughter. I wish that I had asked her more stories, even though I was ten when she passed on and little attuned to such matters.
And maybe that is why the Nethery family has been so important to me ever since her death in ’98. Because visiting all of you makes me feel like I know her a little better. Knowing even an evolved version of her world helps me to better see her and Grandpa Mason and Nanny better in my heart.
I was raised in the metroplex of North Texas, but for all those special times of every year, those visits to Milam will always make me claim my East Texan heritage. Ask anyone who knows me well and they’ll tell you just how important my Nethery cousins are to me. They understand immediately why I’m so excited every time I announce we’re “going to the land!”. For me there’s no place on earth where I sleep better , breathe fresher air and feel free from the stresses of city life than Milam, TX.
From our very first visits down to work on the farm house we made frequent treks into town to see the “old folks”. I recall Uncle Buddy’s coveralls and the single light bulb hanging in his store. I miss Aunt Bun’s fluffy bits of perfection that were her tea cakes. I found Cousin Doyle’s cigar and the men’s domino game something of a curiosity. I smile to think of Uncle Loy’s smile on seeing “Louise’s granddaughter” on a visit to Beaumont. I’ll never forget Aunt Marguriete sitting on her porch swing by my side, surrounded by her sweet flowers. I’ll always remember Uncle Wendall’s laughter over my Daddy’s stories.
That’s what Nethery Reunions are all about for me. Not just remembering the ones who have already gone before us, but celebrating the fact we’re still together.
My story is unique I know. Not every one of my generation has the same experience with our clan and the town our great’s helped build up. Most of us are scattered to the five corners of Texas and beyond and only make it to the reunion once a year. Some have never been and do not know much about where we came from or who we were.
But I wouldn’t be who I am, if East Texas were not a part of it. And I believe secretly, we all have that under-layer of red mud-stained skin that calls us back to it.
If you want to share your own story about the family please send it to us and we will be happy to post!-the editors
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