Snowville

 It's 4am and I haven't slept so please forgive grammar and spelling...things will not be perfect.

We begin on a trip with my bf, we'll call him Gavin.  We were going to see his mother in Snowville, UT.  Her name shall be Dianne.  She and her boyfriend "Jeff" lived just over the border in Idaho, but Snowville was the town nearest.  After driving from the Salt Lake Valley to Snowville in near blizzard conditions, the freeway was shut down just after we took the exit for Snowville.

For some reason, Dianne and Jeff decided to take us to see this house that Jeff knew of from growing up in that area.  After a long bumpy and slippery drive, we turned up a long driveway.  We saw a couple of silos, an old tractor, a large barn-type building, and a farmhouse.  The farmhouse had peeling white paint, a large wrap-around porch, and what looked like a tin roof.  We entered the home through an unlocked back door.  Once we got inside, Dianne handed Gavin and me each a flashlight and told us to shine them through our shirts to soften the glow.  The freeway was within visibility apparently (I couldn't see it, I just saw a huge field of snow as far as I could see).

Once we got inside we were faced with stairs to the basement or a hallway that led to the kitchen.  We went to the kitchen.  It was very eerie.  There was an old farmhouse table with dishes sat at the seat, silverware arranged as well.  There was no food anywhere, just those plates.  There was an old fridge, very old stove, and no modern trappings about.  We passed from the kitchen into the living room.  There was a couch, a small old TV that was sort of built into a wood cabinet-looking thing with legs.  There was an old blue couch and a matching blue chair.  There were several magazines laying about, National Geographic I remember vividly, and also Farmer's Almanacs all on a bookshelf.  They were all from the 1950's, the latest was 1954 if I remember correctly.  There was a small side table, kind of like a buffet maybe.  In the drawers, I found a jar of buttons, an Ogilve Perm box (I remember this distinctly because my mother is a cosmetologist), and a couple of books.  Also in the buffet were some dishes, I wouldn't call them fine China, but they were nicer than those that were on the table.

When we exited the living room, we walked down a hall.  To our left was what appeared to be the master bedroom.  There was a brown pair of work boots sitting directly next to the bed as if someone slid their boots off and swung their legs into bed leaving the boots there to be put on quickly upon waking.  The bed was rumpled and unmade.  On the back of the door, a pair of worn overalls were hanging.  In the closet there were 2 quilts, they looked homemade to me.  I didn't open all of the dresser drawers, but in the one I did open there were very retro looking bras and slips.  On the top of the dresser there was a large Bible.  I opened it and found the name "Harris" written in script.  There were other names in there but I do not remember any of them.  I wish I had been smarter, taken notes or something.

There was a room across the hall that had two twin beds.  Neither were made.  There were toys and books in the room.  I didn't go into that room.  It felt very weird...the whole house felt weird, but that room...it seemed disrespectful to go in there for some reason.

Next to the childrens room was a bathroom.  It had a bath, a toilet, and a sink.  There were toothbrushes on the sink, a tube of toothpaste, and some tissue.  The mirror doubled as a medicine cabinet.  Inside there was a small bottle of perfume, a bottle of aspirin, and some salve.  I think it was Tiger Balm but it could have been Bag Balm.  It was some sort of balm.

After touring the upstairs, the adults led us downstairs.  In the basement there were old TV's, smaller and not in the decorative wooden box type thing.  It looked like perhaps it was a workshop for someone to tinker with the TV's.  There were also what appeared to be pickled/canned vegetables on shelves.  I didn't look terribly close at them, yet another thing I wish I had done.

The eeriest part of this house was just the fact that it looked like people were there...and then they were gone.  Things that I would consider important, heirlooms, were left behind.  The quilts and the Bible specifically.  The way that the overalls and workboots were just left there.  The more I thought about it, the more I thought that the woman of the house may have been up preparing breakfast and the man had not made it out of bed yet when whatever interrupted them happened.  The house did not look like it had been disturbed much since the 50's, which was also weird because how did the townspeople know the house was there and even toured it for fun...but didn't do anything to it.  Kids these days would spraypaint "Jimmy WUZ here" at very least.  But nothing.

I did end up taking the perm box and the jar of buttons.  I still have them both.  I don't know why I did it, it was definitely wrong.  I'm claiming being a dumb 17 year old.  But I still have those items.  The perm box is in my garage and the button jar is on my bookshelf.  This took place in 1998.  I've lived in North Carolina, Tennessee, Kentucky, Colorado, Germany, and back to Kentucky again since then...but those buttons stay on my bookshelf.

Onto theories.  I'll start with the far-fetched ones.

Tooele Army Depot is not terribly far from Snowville - it isn't close, but close enough.  For those that don't know, Tooele Army Depot has been used to store ammunition...and it is a storage facility for chemical agents.  They dispose of them as well, but they store them as they prepare to destroy them.  This is not my strong subject so here is a link to get you started on any rabbit hole you may want to dive into involving that Tooele Chemical Agent Disposal.  Due to the nature of the things stored there, it may not be completely insane to think that perhaps something escaped (there have been "leaks" in the past) and it somehow wound up affecting Snowville.  Far-fetched, but it's not aliens I guess so not too out there.

The next theory is in a similar vein.  Dugway Proving Ground was another military site in Utah that was used to test biological and chemical weapons.  Due to the nature of those items and the existing claims from other communities that there have been repercussions for those tests, perhaps there was a wind shift and instead of sending the poison downwind, it somehow made its way to Snowville.  Here is a link for Dugway Proving Ground also a link for further info on The Downwinders.  The Downwinder phenomenon is another very easy rabbit hole to get lost in.  Dugway has some rumors involving aliens, but we still aren't going there.

The following theory is the most probable, in my opinion, but still has some holes to make it incredibly likely.  Near the house, I recalled seeing Federal Grasslands and government-funded grass/crop testing.  I saw these things on a different trip.  I cannot say if the home itself was on what is now part of the National Park family as a protected National Grassland but the theory would be that the government came in and bought the farm and the family relocated.  The reason I feel that this has some holes is that so much was left behind.  Clothes, shoes, the Bible, the quilts...so much more.  Just everyday house things.  There were picture albums as well.  Just so much.  If the government came and kicked you off of your land, wouldn't they give you time to gather your things? Hence the holes.

This is not an actual theory, but I guess aliens.  Why not.  Let's toss them in the mix.

I truly wish that this had not taken place before cellphones were normal before digital cameras were a thing for the everyday people.

The other house they took me to was less impressive.  It was closer to town and teenagers had definitely broken in and done a lot of damage.  The only thing of note was that in the basement there were shelves with canned food.  There was also a set of shelves with boxes lining the shelves.  Curiosity got the better of me so I opened one of the boxes.  Inside the first box was a second box.  Inside the second box was a third.  There were 6 boxes in total, like Russian nesting dolls but in box form.  I kind of thought there would be some treasure in the final box.  Unfortunately, I was not on Goonies.  Just empty boxes.  From this house I did take a set of encyclopedias.  Again, I'm not sure why.  They are also on my bookshelf to this day.

I have not been able to make it back to Snowville since I've been old enough to know just how special that first house was.  I have pinpointed it, maybe, on Google maps.  Maybe.  There are two that could be it...or it could be neither of them.  I'll add some pictures.  Again, I am not at all sure that they are the right place.

At any rate, I hope you've enjoyed my weird story.

My Cousin Shelley

I've been wanting to write this out for a couple weeks but...I just haven't.  I've told myself it was because of the brain fog and pressure but honestly I just feel like writing it is so final.  Not dealing with it is easier and somehow makes it...not true.  But she deserves more.  She deserves better.  So here we go.

Shelley was my cousin, as the title suggests.  Not in the "my Mom is her Aunt" way....in a more round about lazy Southern way...where you know you're kin but the "greats" and "twice removed" is too much to work out so it's just "that's my cousin".

Shelley's Grandmother, Ms. Lendell aka Aunt Dell, was my Great-Grandmother's sister.  Aunt Dell and Uncle Lester begat David who begat Shelley.  So technically, David was my Grandmothers cousin and Shelley was my Grandmothers second-cousin.  That's about all I'm willing to work out but as you see...cousins.

The first time I went to North Carolina was when I was 8 years old.  There isn't a lot I remember about that trip...but what I do remember revolves around Uncle Lester and Aunt Dell.  We stayed at their home.  They made me a pallet on the floor, first time I'd ever heard it called that.  They taught me how to catch fireflies in an old mason jar which is a truly magical event for a young city girl born and raised in the West.  Aunt Dell and Uncle Lester were old then, but I swear to you they never aged past that point...they were timeless.  Aunt Dell passed away around 5 years after that visit in 1993.

I cannot remember the exact year but sometime around then, my Mother, Grandmother, and I traveled to my birthplace in Idaho.  Aunt Virginia, aka Aunt Jen lived there and welcomed us into their home for a visit.  Aunt Jen was Lendell and Thelma (my Great Grandmother)'s sister.  Uncle Lester was there and he had brought his granddaughter to visit with the family that lived out West.

Enter Shelley.

This is another trip that I do not remember many details of.  I remember Aunt Jen's back yard looking like a Fairy Oasis; twinkling lights, citronella candles, a water feature of some sort.  I remember that the whole town smelled like fresh mint.  It felt like a magical place...which is probably why I relate my Price family to magic...Aunt Dell had introduced me to the magic of fireflies, Aunt Jen made me believe in fairies and gave me an appreciation for ambiance.

I remember staying up late and giggling with Shelley.  She had a Southern drawl like the rest of my North Carolina family.  She was a few years older than me so automatically she was cool.  We spent that entire trip together because everyone else was soooooo olddddd...of course looking back, they were but whipper snappers.  Mom was younger then than I am now - very early 30's.

This was before social media and possibly before email was even common.  We didn't really stay in touch.  Back in those days, long distance calls cost a lot and things were a bit different than they are now.  I think we may have spoke a few times but I didn't really have much contact with Shelley again until later.

At 15ish, I went to North Carolina again for a family reunion.  Although it was a totally different side of the family, Uncle Lester came (EVERYONE loved Uncle Lester, didn't matter what "side") and brought Shelley.  Again, I was so so happy to see her! I didn't really know anyone there and everyone was either sooooooo oldddddd or super young.  Shelley was even more cool this time than the last.  She could drive! She had her own money! And her Father was in the hospital so she had this huge house all to herself.  Mom let me go stay the night with her.  She took me to Applebee's for dinner then we went to Blockbuster (I know) and rented a movie she really wanted me to see.  We had popcorn and licorice.  We stayed up all night talking and being goofy and just catching up.  The movie she chose was the classic, Kids.  If you haven't seen Kids, there is a chance you won't.  It's pretty controversial and very hard to find.  I won't go into the entire plot but I truly believe Shelley showed me this movie on purpose.  It is about crazy teens doing drugs, having sex, and getting AIDS.  Keep in mind, this was the mid 90's so it was incredibly relevant and a pretty true depiction of what was going on...but it was definitely not a feel good family flick.  I remember being TERRIFIED and vowing never to do drugs and always have protected sex.  Pretty sure that was her goal.  She did well.  I didn't try any drugs until I was 24 and even then it was...we shall say herbal...and I'm allergic so I am pretty boring.  And importantly, I was careful sexually and with general bodily fluids.  I am going to give Shelley credit for those things.  She did good.

This was in the time of AOL.  Shelley and I stayed in touch via AIM and emails.  Once I got married we lost touch again, then found each other on Myspace, then lost touch again.  Once I got to Germany in 2010, our communication really picked back up via Facebook.  We talked all the time about depression, our shared love of Civil Rights and just general life.  We talked about travel, love, loss...everything.  I was so grateful we reconnected.  As an only child, she was the closest to a blood sister that I had.  Life took us in very different directions but we were very close and always enjoyed our talks.  We still didn't get to see each other often, as is the problem with living so far apart, but we kept in touch.

November of 2017 I got a message on Facebook that Uncle Lester had passed, Shelley was frantic and upset.  We spoke on the phone and I tried my best to help her calm down...and then I began the task of letting the family know so that she didn't have that added stress.  One of the hardest things I've ever done is tell my Grandmother that her beloved Uncle had passed.  I don't know about you, but making my Grandmother cry is on the list for one of the all time worst experiences for me.

Within a few short hours, I was booked on a flight to Raleigh to be with Shelley for 2 days later.  It was a whirlwind of getting the house prepared for my absence, packing, and talking to Shelley often.  By the time I got to North Carolina, Shelley had calmed down a little but was still reeling and heartbroken.  We spent the first day running errands, running to the funeral home, and speaking with loved ones.  My job was to be as strong as possible for Shelley as we prepared Uncle Lester for his farewell.  We selected his clothing, his glasses, his hat.  We went to Parkers for dinner because it was Uncle Lester's favorite place.  And then we went to begin cleaning out Uncle Lester's room.  We found so many little hidden treasures...mostly salt and napkins hidden everywhere. We stayed up that evening talking until around 5am.  The next day, we went to the services.  Several of the Price family were there, my Mother and step-Father were there.  Before the service we were able, with the help of my ex husband via texting, to get Uncle Lester's Army patches and awards set up correctly.  We set out his treasured portrait that a POW in WWII Belgium painted of him - a Nazi soldier who thought that Uncle Lester was so kind to him that he wanted to immortalize him.  If that isn't a testament to the type of man he was, I don't know what is.

My job through all of that was to provide strength and a shoulder for Shelley.  I did the best that I could even though I was distraught as well.  I did anything she needed me to.  I hugged her or just held her hand.  I listened while she told her favorite stories, sat in silence when she just needed a moment...or told horribly inappropriate jokes about the handsome funeral director just to get a little laugh out of her.  She introduced me to everyone as her "cousin that is more like a sister".  After the services, we went back to Uncle Lester's room along with my parents and finished cleaning out Uncle Lester's room.  It was hard.  We didn't want to finish it because it was like a different level of closure...but we were able to get it done.  Together.

At the end of the trip, we hugged and promised to see each other more often.  I normally go to NC twice a year and we vowed to spend those trips together.

I went back to NC for Thanksgiving, Shelley drove down.  We were exhausted but we ate and had fun catching up during a less sad time.  We made plans to meet up again over the summer.  Summer of 2018.  But that just wasn't to be.

We spoke often, every day.  We chatted about nonsense or still made jokes about the funeral director hot man.  We talked about everything.  I cannot begin to explain how much all of that means to me now...at the time, it was just normal.

Early May of 2018, our contact got a little bit less regular.  But we both had a lot going on, her with work, and me with my health...I did not realize that hers was also health but looking back, I'm sure that was part of it.  We still spoke, and we were both going through a bout of depression...we both admitted that we get a little...secluded during depression so it was more "are you feeling any better?" "yeah, neither am I" conversation than anything deep...and then she just stopped replying.  I get like that when I'm depressed.  I shut down and shut people out.  So to me, although I was concerned, I understood so I would still send little notes. In June I began planning my summer trip to North Carolina in earnest and reached out.  We had spoken months earlier about spending a couple of nights at the beach, etc, so I reached out to set that all in stone and let her know that my travel companions had changed.  I told her the dates I would be there and said that if she couldn't make it to the beach, I would see her in Raleigh.  I reached out a couple of times and never got a reply.  I was disappointed but know that sometimes life just gets in the way...I was very wrong.

I did not find out until July 1st that Shelley had passed away May 15th.

I am not going to lie...I was angry.  That is part of the reason that writing this blog has taken so long (I not only put off writing it for 25 days, but I've been working on it for a week).  I was mad that no one told us.  That no one told any of half of her family.  I was mad that I found out by going to write her a Happy Birthday message on her Facebook profile.  I was just plain angry.  No one in her Father's side of the family knew...so it came to me to tell people.  Again.  This time, I just told my Mother and a couple of cousins...I asked my Mother to tell my Grandmother.  Because I am a coward.  I just couldn't handle it while I was dealing with my own anger and complete mental destruction.  I was focusing on the anger at first also...on purpose.  It was so much easier to be mad than it was to deal with the all encompassing sadness.  I am devastated, still.  I am destroyed.

Because I didn't find out until 2 weeks after the fact; because I didn't find out until her birthday, I wasn't able to be at her Celebration of Life.  That hurt too.  I felt like I let her down.  I still feel like that.  Shelley and I were very similar in the aspect that...she was sick.  She knew she was sick but didn't want to make a fuss about it.  She thought she would get better.  She didn't know that she would never return from that trip to the hospital...so she just didn't reach out.  If she had, I would have been there in a heartbeat.  I wouldn't have left her side...so many ways, I let her down.  By not being more persistent.  By not being more insistent.  I have guilt.  The anger has subsided and been replaced with deep sadness and guilt.  I definitely have gone through the stages of grief...but I'm not to acceptance yet.  I'm not even sure that I'm close to it.  I miss her every single day.  I see the things she gave me of Uncle Lester's and I lose it.  I wish I had something from her...but I am trying to look at the stuff from Uncle Lec as stuff from her...it comforts me.  I don't know if that's weird.  I know that we have the same blood running through our veins and that should be enough...but I don't know.  Loss as a weird thing to deal with.  It is very personal and varies from person to person.

Like I said...I moved on from the anger and now I'm in the depressed stage.  In theory acceptance comes next.  I don't even know what acceptance is when it comes to death.  I've already acknowledged that it is real...that it is truth...but that hasn't taken the grief or guilt away.  It doesn't make it easier or more peaceful.  I just don't know.

I do know that Shelley was an amazing woman.  I know that from the first time we met, we were fast friends.  I know that Shelley made me smile.  She taught me things.  She helped me see things, open my eyes.  She shaped me and influenced me in a lot of areas.  I know that without Shelley, I wouldn't be who I am today.  I am grateful for every moment I spent with her, every single conversation.  I cherish the few pictures I have of us together.  I cherish the memories.

A little PSA....if you love someone, make sure you tell them every chance you get...you never know when it will be your last.