Hand-Picked Life Lessons

As sweet as a bowl of cherries

By Ron Ciancutti

The one-square acre contained a house, an efficiency cottage, a garage that had been converted from a haybarn, and an attached single room for storage behind the barn.

Photo: © Can Stock Photo / EllenMol

In July 1962 the realtor was in his thirties, as was my dad. I had been on earth a year and a half. According to family lore, the paperwork was two pages stapled together, which Dad signed on the hood of Joe Bishop’s car. The cost was less than most people pay for a car today. Within 20 years, Bishop would become the largest agent in the area. I graduated high school with his son Bill. Ironically, Bill showed me a few house options when I became a buyer in 1984. Parallels such as these were common in small-town Berea, Ohio.

The house sat on Fair Street, where the county fair was once held. The first block was intersected by Race Street because the horse races at the fair were run there.

A Bountiful Harvest

The farmer who was selling the house had once owned the whole block, and his once-bountiful farm still lined the yards adjacent to our yard. The rows of pear, apple, cherry, and plum trees ran along the fence line at the back of the property. The largest lot had been sold to the city school district, and the elementary school (grades K-6) was built there.

I recall inviting my friends over to pick fruit, as there were too many pears and apples for any one family to consume. The rich soil behind the barn was reserved for my grandfather, who rendered bushels of tomatoes year after year, as well as peppers (“such good soil,” he would often say), which my grandmother, mother, and aunt dutifully canned and stored for year-round consumption. They did this with the cherries, too, so deep-dish cherry pies were eaten at every special holiday table throughout the year. The Thanksgiving table was a feast for the eyes as well as the belly.

I was especially fond of those deep-purple plums. I can honestly tell you I have not been able to replicate that taste in my adult life. They were so sweet and rich, and the best ones would fall to the ground, and if I didn’t get to them quickly enough, the bees would. I refrigerated the plums so they were ice cold and cut them with a steak knife later so the sweet juice would explode when I chomped down on each slice.

When Mom and Grandma pitted the cherries for canning, a bucket of pits was always left over. It was my job to lay out a blanket of brown paper bags and let the pits dry out completely in the sun. When all the moisture was gone, I regathered the stones and brought the bucket to Grandma, who sewed them into small burlap bags/pillows (about 10 inches square). In the winter, Mom would heat the bags in the oven, and we would each take one up to bed to warm our sheets. Do I need to mention how heavenly that scent was throughout the house?

Using Every Square Inch

A year after we moved in, Dad renovated the efficiency cottage so it was up to code, and my parents took in a boarder. The gentleman was a NASA engineer named Joe. He paid $75 in cash on the first of every month. He was a quiet man, and I don’t recall his having a single guest over. He never had a television, and all I ever heard coming from his window was news radio. He read a lot and was truly the perfect tenant. One day, he knocked at the door, paid the rent, and told my parents he was leaving in 30 days. He was getting married. He left as quietly as he lived and sent a card every Christmas for years. That cottage would accommodate my grandfather after my grandmother passed on, and then I moved in after college while I saved money for my first home. It was a real treasure, that little cottage.

Dad also renovated the attached spare room behind the garage (barn) and outfitted it with an upright piano and waiting room so Mom could give lessons. After dinner three nights a week, she would depart to the backyard to teach kids how to play piano; the extra income made renting a studio or paying a babysitter unnecessary. Mom was just 10 steps away from home, and Dad got pretty good at doing dishes and helping with homework.

He stayed at Ford Motor as a metallurgist for 42 years before retiring. He passed away at a young age (64) from a heart attack 25-plus years ago. To this day, Mom remains in the home of our youth. The house has been modernized over the years and Mom, now 85, seems ready to downsize and relinquish this square acre that is the keeper of my every fond memory.

Teachings For The Taking

I realized a long time ago my life there had established a pattern as I raised my own family. I even noticed how that pattern influenced my employment; I found some of those homespun habits showing up when supervising my staff members, negotiating deals, and establishing policies.

• Utilize every tool you have. Dad’s renovations brought income to the family through utilization of resources and conservation of effort. Having Mom’s supplemental employment in our own backyard was nothing less than genius. Renting out a cabin that had sat idle made perfect sense.

• Maintain respect for the old ways. Canning and gardening and sowing seeds of goodwill by sharing the yield of our bountiful trees with neighbors paid huge dividends.

• Stay the course. Dad’s lifetime loyalty to his company provided a handsome retirement, and even with his untimely death, leaving Mom widowed so young, the seeds he had sown have kept her in good stead to this day.

• Pay off debt. The house was paid off early, which allowed my folks the means to send their kids to college without major loans.

• Keep life simple. A straightforward approach to problems in life is the shortest line between two points. See things for what they, are and don’t lie to yourself. If you think something might be too expensive, it probably is. Driving the newest car isn’t enviable if the payments are choking you. Getting to work each day with a reliable—but perhaps outdated—car is wise, sound, and helps you sleep well. Give your mind a break and find the path that favors your wallet.

The recent pandemic has served notice to many of us about the need to embrace the basics, make wise decisions, and live a life of preparation and awareness. As people diversify their investments and scurry to secure their homesteads, I simply recommend a giant step back to look at the bigger picture. The elder generation in my family led by example, and I absorbed enough to replicate those lessons in every facet of my life. I’m sure similar habits were formed in your families as well. Why not dig up the old and make it a blueprint for the future?

Ron Ciancutti worked in the parks and recreation industry since he was 16 years old, covering everything from maintenance, operations, engineering, surveying, park management, design, planning, recreation, and finance. He is now retired. He holds a B.S. in Business from Bowling Green State University and an M.B.A. from Baldwin Wallace University. He is not on Facebook, but he can be reached at ron@northstarpubs.com.