The whole point of this blog was to talk about Walker Creek and tell you some stories about it. I can barely find the damn place on a map or the internet so if I'm the only one documenting it then I want to do it right. Which means focusing more on the town than my personal life. But I wanna do one more real quick before I try to focus on that. To just get it out, I guess, and continue after the entry last time. I haven't talked about it in a long time, but today I'd like to write about my wedding day with Julia.
It was a gorgeous summer day in 1962. Birds chirping, flowers in full bloom. The nature of Walker Creek is stunning. Just green for as far as the eye can see. I really do miss that now. It's just not the same in Texas. But anyway, The night before, I had went to Rosie's Bar with the boys for a bachelor party. Next day, I had to face all the people I invited - every friend and family member. I hadn't completely pissed on the family legacy yet so my parents came, as did my aunts, uncles, nephews, etc, etc. Every friend came too, which meant basically half the town. As I said, everyone knew everyone. We were outside in this field of flowers, and we had my strange childhood priest officiate the ceremony. Julia walked down the aisle with her father, in the most beautiful dress. I still have it packed away even today. Never had the heart to get rid of it. Anyway, it was the happiest day of my life. But, also the most stressful. Weddings are not just carefree happy romantic events. I remember the pure stress of making sure the ceremony went well. Of helping Julia plan it. Making sure the guests were happy. It was such a relief when it was over. Still, it was an unforgettable day. I don't really wanna say too much more though. My memories of Julia are special. They don't need to be shared in full here. I just like to talk a bit, remember the basics. -Trevor
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I got to thinking after my last entry, about my own legacy and life and the business I started and all that. Been wanting to talk about that for a while, but wasn't sure exactly how to. But I'm done waiting for the words to form in my mind like magic or some other malarkey, so here goes. In '63, after meeting my wife Julia, we opened a clothing shop. She created whatever the residents of Walker Creek needed, and I did the whole business side of things. We stocked clothes from out of town but that wasn't where we really found success though. It was the custom orders for Julia that brought in the most, gave us a reputation. If someone needed an alteration, wanted a custom piece, anything at all, they'd know to call Julia. She made the most amazing dresses, or sweaters, or hats, or anything else. She always did it with a smile, even if the request was ridiculous. For example, the mayor at the time, Tom Sorkan I think, came in, around '76 or '77 I believe. He demanded different alterations on a "Mayoral Hat" for 4 months until he was finally satisfied, but she never minded. And it made her damn happy when she saw him wear that hat in every speech until he got voted out. People turned against him, guess they don't appreciate embezzlement by their political leaders, fancy that. I'm getting distracted though. All in all, it was a beautiful life. Small shop on main street, standalone building with a wood interior, a real cozy kind of place. I loved that shop. It was my pride and joy. Didn't matter in the end though. When she died, I quietly packed it up and left without a second thought. Couldn't stand another second in there. Or the town. I owned the land so I guess the shop's probably still there. Hopefully the folks around there don't mind it sitting there. I mean everything on main street was half falling apart anyway when I left so I doubt they do. I'm just sad thinking about it all now though, so I'll leave off here.
- Trevor It's a Sunday today. I went to church for the first time in decades, listened to a sermon. It reminded me of being a kid. My dad used to drag me to to church. The priest there was an odd kind of fellow, freaked me out as a kid. I resented my dad for making me go. He was a cold, distant figure in my life overall. He worked all day as a lumberjack, like his father, and his father before him since they founded it in 1901. I was supposed to go down that path too. They owned a lot of land there in central Washington. Everything they did was either chopping down trees or hauling it around. Wasn't the most glamorous or refined profession but it was pretty common around those parts and it let us live comfortably. My father was proud of that company, of what his family had made and what they stood for. As for me, I never really understood it. Or well, I suppose I did, I just didn't care. Passing on the bloodline, inheriting and continuing my families legacy, making 'em proud, everything else. I just didn't give a rats ass about it. It never appealed to me. They were able to own as much land as they wanted. Had a big name in Walker Creek. I wanted my own legacy though, not chopping down trees 'till I died. I suppose I succeeded. I was proud of my shop, and of my family. Me and Julia. Probably as proud as my dad with his own life. But I wouldn't have wanted to pass anything on. Not that I can now. People should be free to live their own lives. Not be marching to the beat of someone else's drum, if you get what I mean.
- Trevor New years resolution: post more blogs.
I was never one to really do resolutions, but Julia loved them. Used to force me to think of one every year. So I'll do one now in her memory. The blogs have been inconsistent and I'm going to try to post more recently. I'll try once a week. That's a bit lofty though, sitting at the computer is hard for me. We'll see. -Trevor |
AuthorTrevor Magnil Archives
November 2021
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