GET A HORSE!
In days such as these, when two dollar per gallon gasoline prices are common, some of the nostalgia wishes for the comforts and economy of by-gone “horse and buggy days” are not entirely without some note of seriousness.. We long for relief from such expense.
Much of such wishful thinking is taken, of course, without awareness all the work and worry one had to undergo to be a Horse and Buggy type rider. The critter towing the wheeled cart had to be fed and brushed down with regularity and it was a never-ending, every day-every night chore for someone. In its day “keeping a horse and carriage” was expensive and would, by comparison with those day's income patterns and prices, probably equate with the ownership of a first class automobile today. So often, too, it became a natural thing that the person designated to take care of the horse also became it beast's official driver ..a chauffeur to all who needed such assistance and someone to wait for passengers at the other end of a trip.. As custodian of the animal's many needs, the hired hand at the stable became ones “Coachman”. And, I'm told there was rather testy pecking order among some families who chose to keep a carriage as a mark of social attainment.
My personal buggy riding experience is somewhat limited. I remember riding in them on several occasions but our farm folks ran more to work wagon- users rather than owners of fancy buggies. One of our nearby-neighbor families had relations who lived in the country and they used to visit occasionally at which time we were invited to ride along on side trips. There seems never to have been enough room in buggies for all the people who wanted to go, but a small c
children could be seated on the floor board at the driver's feet within tail-switching distance.
We had, during the l930's a fine, old country gentleman from Snowville, Virginia - a wide place in the road a few miles west of the New river, who visited us at our house every Satuday morning he came to the town market. He drove a horse and buggy. The horse's name was “Ruby” and when it came time to leave Mr. Roop, after maki ng sure were were in place, said to Ruby-horse in a soft, kindly voice” “To market, Ruby! To market!” and off we went - not by the front, graveled street but by way of the narrow alley which ran through the block in back of our house .with its unpaved surface and shaded spots. At the far end then end of the corner, Ruby stopped “to let the boys off.” You might say my first buggy rides centered more on the strange nature of the close relationship of understanding between an old man and his horse. I think, for that reason alone I shall always have a soft spot in my heart concerning horse and buggy rigs.
I happen to live today in an area where the Amish culture still makes use of such transportation.. We have parking spaces designated for horse occupancy only. It is quite common for one to meet a number of such horse and buddy units especially of the less-traveled roads here in the Shenandoah Valley of Virginia.
Some people today scorn and ridicule their presence on our highways and say they are the cause of traffic troubles. Their time is speedily closing. They will, in time, be gone of course and along with them many memories such as my rather limited ones. They will be gone, but not forgotten by many of us.
A.L.M. Aug 7, 2004 [c619wds]
