There is a lot of history there. My grandma grew up there. My grandparents were married on the front lawn on a cloudy, rainy day in May. My grandmother waited patiently (or maybe not so patiently!) through the initial stages of labor for my grandpa to finish milking the cows so he could take her to the hospital. They never made it there. Being jolted over the railroad tracks set grandma into the final stages of labor. They pulled into the doctor's office in a neighboring town. My grandpa helped get my grandma into the exam room and turned to go out (normal in those times). The doctor grabbed him and made him stay to help deliver my mom--very unusual back then! All the babies at the hospital at that time were catching some disease, so the doctor told them to just go home after the delivery.
Some of my ancestors are buried on a plot of land donated by the farm to Zion Evangelical Lutheran Church. We visited the cemetery to pay our respects and then headed to Chester's Drive-In in Plymouth for another tradition. My dad always likes to stop there, so my mom offered to treat us (me, my sisters, and our families). Stable Boy gave me an incredulous look when I rattled off my order of a greasy bacon cheeseburger, onion rings and a large root beer (this after several pieces of fried chicken at the reunion!).
He got it though when I explained that Mom wasn't really offering to buy us dinner. She was offering a continuation of tradition--albeit a not very healthy one! It was an opportunity for my children and their cousins to participate in a dining experience that has been ongoing for decades. We live too far away for it to normally occur. This was a rare chance of having us all together.
Traditions...these are the things that draw a family together.