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By: Jim Fitzpatrick |
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Email: jim@nunica.com |
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Local Farmer in Polkton Township writes for the Coopersville Observer. |
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Along Brandy Creek By Jim Fitzpatrick
The Coopersville Observer February 24, 2014- - No. 124 |
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Virginia Ruoff passed away a few years ago. She was married to John who died some time before her. Her brother-in-law, Bill, was the fellow that was arrested for bootlegging during prohibition and married Ester when he got out of prison.
Virginia’s other brother-in-law was Herman; he never married and gave his farm to the Ottawa Center Chapel when he died. Unfortunately, none of the Ruoff brothers had any children – the end of the line for their branch of the family name. Virginia out lived the three brothers, spent her last days there alone on the family farm along 88 Ave. not far from the Grand River.
She was a pleasing individual to visit with during those last years. When John was around they heated the old farmhouse with the wood burner in the front room, cooked on the wood cook range in the kitchen; a lifestyle uncommon to most in such recent times. After John was gone and Virginia had to use a wheelchair the two wood burners kept their place in the house but were active no more.
She used a microwave in the kitchen and heated the house with a furnace. She was always open to visitors and could serve up a nice steamy cup of hot chocolate on a cold winter day. She often had the television on with the volume turned up since she did not hear as well as in the past. Conversation could be a bit strained at times, attempting to stay above the noise coming from the front room. She had a nice smile and was a good storyteller, too. You felt good inside when you left her house; full of the past and filled with the same energy that she still had for life that had carried her forward for the better part of a century.
Virginia and John’s house stands empty near the road. No smoke from the chimneys, the shades are pulled down, the front porch and yard is vacant of human activity; there are no lights in the windows when evening comes. You can’t help but wonder that maybe she and John still keep an eye on the place, in some way, since there is a feeling about their farm that remains the same when you drive by. |
