Dreams February 12, 24

 Dreams: series of thoughts, images, and sensations occurring in a person's mind during sleep.  

So, February 14, Valentine 💘 day,  marks the 110 anniversary of the Slovenian arrival in Homedale.  I was looking up info, so perhaps this not surprising that I have been having dreams of the folks in the settlement.  

They settled on land on what is now on Graveyard Point Road.  A cluster of 3 room shacks, their “dream” homes! Along with 40 acres of sagebrush, which was supposed to already have been planted with alfalfa!  

So, 2 nights ago, it was dream about dad walking along Graveyard point road with a long time neighbor. The setting was similar to the road to Emmaus.  “ During the journey to Emmaus, according to Alfred McBride, Jesus patiently guided the two disciples "from hopelessness to celebration".  Much like my dad’s death, not really hopelessness.  But certainly loss to celebration.  

And last night, I dreamt I was visiting the Starman’s  with my mom.  Frank and Marion Starman lived tucked away in a tiny cozy house (many would also call it a shack) on a small acreage.  Frank had worked with Grandpa in the mines and had sustained an injury that left him with a limp, and severe black lung disease!  They had a small wood stove, which provided them heat and cooking!  And their small place always had an aroma of Mrs Starman’s cooking.  They never obtained indoor plumbing, so I usually waited until we went home; rather than use the outhouse!  They were a kind and loving couple!

Always interesting, what our minds remember in our sleep.  I will see what the rest of the week brings.

But here is a tribute I wrote for my dad: 

Valentine’s Day will mark the 110th anniversary of the “Austrian Settlement” arriving in Homedale. It also will mark the nearly hundred years of my father, Edward Chadez’s life. Dad is likely one of the last persons of that generation, who lived his entire life here, and died a mile from where he was born. My grandma, Mary Marchek Chadez was one of the nearly 40 people who arrived by train in Homedale on February 14, 1914. She was 15 at the time. 

My grandpa, John Chadez, was a great storyteller. He talked about his letter-writing romance with my grandma, while working in the mines. Grandpa would describe the deplorable conditions in the mines, backbreaking work with low wages. But he also included the shenanigans they would perform at the makeshift dances and other events after long shifts in the mines. He followed the love of his life to Homedale, after marrying in Kemmerer, Wyoming.

Grandpa and grandma homesteaded on Market Road. They raised six wonderful and hard-working children. All of them would talk about the work on the farm, but also the camaraderie they so enjoyed with one another.

Besides farming their 40 acres, grandma maintained afabulous flower and vegetable garden. Anyone driving along Market Road viewed the beautiful flowers that greeted them on the highway. And the raspberries were the best. 

Grandma and grandpa, like all the Slovenians, had a strong commitment to the education of their children. All of them did well in school, and yes, walked 3 miles each way; come rain or shine! Dad and mom, in turn, sparked the same passion for learning in us. There were always discussions at the dinner table. Each of us had the opportunity to speak our mind. And even on the farm, we ate supper as a family. 

Dad always reflected that family was most important. One of our favorite gatherings as grandchildren was fall grape picking for wine. We would fight over who would be given the role of grinding the grapes in the cellar. It was a fabulous fall activity for the grandkids, an activity also enjoyed by my parents and aunts and uncles, and a reprieve from the long hours of farming 7 days a week. 

My father remained curious all of his life. He embraced technology (except iPhones) with more enthusiasm than I. He was a prolific reader, stayed aware of current events, and was always open for a good debate. His wisdom was uncanny. A true sage in the sagebrush! 

So, as I reflect upon the passing of my father, and all the changes he witnessed; I realize there are certain enduring and endearing qualities that he bestowed on me and have remained for a century: hard work, determination, love of family, and a connection to the land that has been a gracious gift. 

110 years ago, a group of committed Slovenians came to this desert and turned sagebrush into luscious greenfields, only fitting because there is love in every sLOVEnian!