An ode to Auntie

   I believe most of my writings are being transformed telepathicly through my Aunt Connie, who was the last girl born from David & Alice on my birthday, May 11th. Now that she's not with us, I'd like to share some of her Musings. This one relates to the church in Warren, which was started in 1750 by the Strongs along with the Paine, Curtiss, and Carter families. My Aunt was a member for over 90 years.
 
   "I was not a regular attandant, as my parents had problems of getting us all readyat the same time, due to the fact that the women wore long dresses with numerous petticoats underneath. There were no restrooms or water.
    The minister was given a small pittance, people brought cords of wood, a dressed chicken, ham or beef. Also, live chickens and a cow so he would have milk and eggs. He had his own horse and buggy which he used to make callson parishionersthat lived miles away.
    The sexton at the time Robert Perkins who owned the town store. He was around 50 years old, and his countenance was always stern. When he looked at you, you'd better behave. The kids were afraid of him. He particularly did not like our family, probably because the boys [ my uncles] always gave him such a hard time, even though their mother was his sister, who never knew what went on.
    The night before the Fourth of July at midnight, the church bells would toll. The sexton, pulling on his pants and taking a lantern would hustle up to the church, he lived in the next house west of the parsonage. When he got to the church, the bells stopped tolling. He checked the interior and the exterior of the church, not finding anything or anyone  around, he left for home. No sooner had he gotten in bed then the tolling began. Again he went through the the same ritual and still could find nothing, so he he went home again.Ten minutes later the bells tolled again.' Someone is playing tricks and by gum I'm going to find out this time'. So cautiously he looked around to find the culptit. In doing so, espied arope lying on the ground. He followed it into the church which had been tied to the bells and put underneath a window. He then cut the rope, closed the window and went home to bed.
    No one ever knew who the culprits were, although they suspected my brothers. They had hidden every time the sexton came, no doubvt scampering up the hill by the academy where they could watch the sexton come and leave.
    The midnight tolling of the bells would happen at different times of the year. Years later my brother , Nate, told me the story asw he was a party to it.
    
     In more recent years, mid 80's, thats 1980's , Eric Sloane started a revivel to sound the bells again on the Fourth, and they continue to present day.