Family

Family


About the time that Babe Ruth was hitting his famous "called shot", Laytonville was forming it's town baseball team and "old-timers day" was started.

Every year, on the Saturday of the third weekend in August, the Laytonville town baseball team gets together and plays the Willits town baseball team at Harwood Memorial park in Laytonville. The boys of summer play hardball, just like the pros. The teams have been doing this for more years than I can remember. The story that I seem to remember is that the baseball game started over a bet many years ago between Boomer Kelton and Al Greenberg, the owners of Boomers Bar in Laytonville and Al’s Place in Willits. Both long dead now, but not forgotten because this “Old-Timers Day Baseball Game” has immortalized them.

The game has been played continuously ever since, with a few years missing during the Second World War. The party before during and after has become known as “Old-Timers Day”. The day starts about noon with a chicken barbecue, with all the trimmin’s. The ladies bring their favorite side dishes. They become quite competitive with their side dishes. More than once I’ve gone through the line and had the serving ladies point out “Those are Lydia’s chili beans, those are Mary’s, and these are mine”. The only correct request is, “I’ll have scoop of each to compare, but yours smells absolutely delicious!” Then, of course you have the same choices with the salads, breads, and desserts. You stand no chance all of getting through the line without your plate spilling over. The food was so good this year that I cleaned my whole plate, with the exception of the fact that I had a little bit of my chicken left over. They serve a large chicken-half.

When I was a wee lad I helped my dad, Everett Branscomb, and my Uncle Ed Downing, make a sauce of sautern wine, butter, vegi-oil, garlic, lemon juice, and salt. The chicken soaked in it over night, then it was barbecued on an oak fire about four feet above the flames, liberaly dawbed with the butterwine sauce.  It was the BEST chicken I ever ate! "Here, try mine".

During the time before the game, you eat lunch. The older ladies talk about their gall bladders, and the men have little side-table discussions about their prostates. The young ladies talk about their kids, and young men talk about sports, and sports. The teenagers flirt, and children play games in the children’s park that is set up there.

The Lady’s Auxiliary sells historical photo calendars and has the late local historian Kate Mayo’s scrapbooks on display. As I was going through them, I noticed a photo of a pretty young lady in a green dress at the presentation of an award for Kate Mayo. It must have been a few years ago, because Kate looked younger than I remember her being. The young lady was a frequent commenter on this blog, Robin Shelley. I think that she probably worked for the "Laytonville Ledger" newspaper at the time.

There is a liquid refreshment stand on the third-base corner of the park. It’s a popular place for the politicians to shake hands and talk politics. The old retired baseball players usually gather there and reminisce about the early days. There is a large sign on the back of the recreation hall that says “D. Dodd” and a date that he hit the back of the building with a home run ball. It is the longest hit ball in the history of the park. A few people proudly tell about being there to see the ball hit, and testify to the fact, what to some would seem impossible.

The Willits players all know the Laytonville players. They are friends that go back to high school ball. There is always talk back in forth when they see each other. I’ve never seen such warm friendships as these players seem to have.

The kids chase fouls balls and home runs, and the ump will give them fifty-cents apiece to return them. Every now and then you will see a kid that will hide a ball for later, and take it home. Nobody seems to care, they know the ball will be put to good use, and who knows, the young lad might come back in a few years and hit his own ball out of the park.

I’ve never seen the park in as good a shape as it was this year, the infield was the perfect combination of clay and sand. It was properly damp, and not muddy or dusty. The outfield was a perfectly green field of well watered grass. The kind that anybody would be proud to have as a front lawn. The flag pole was brightly painted white, and a brand new flag flew proudly at the top. My cousin Ella and her husband Brad Newman had the flag pole placed there last year (2009) in the memory of the Branscomb Family. My cousin Roy worked with the park to get it right. Wow, what a great park for a small town to have.

“I don’t know who won the game this year”. That’s the proper response to the question, “who won”, when Willits wins. When Laytonville wins, the response is, “Willits played a hell of a game. I don’t think that I’ve ever seen them play so good. But, of course, we beat them”.

After the game, we all head to Cousin Roy and Mary’s house across hwy 101 from the park, where most of the family and friends of the Branscombs gather for a yard party. Roy barbecues up a large barbecue of tri-tip roasts. I fry my recipe of deep fried breaded zucchini, seasoned with salt, pepper, garlic and fresh shredded parmesan cheese, served while still warm and crispy! Everybody contributes to the pot-luck, and the dinner is the same as it is at the park, everybody is pushing the dish that they brought. Just like at the park, plates are piled high, and food disappears like a magic act. Hamms beer seems to be the drink of choice for the men, and wine is sipped by the ladies. One of us only drinks beer at the family party, so it is an annual event for him. I usually don’t drink, because I’m too busy frying squash, then I have to drive home, but I definitely have a good time!

A real funny side-story at this years party was about a friend of mine, that has contributed greatly to the knowledge of the history of the Branscomb family. He goes by the pen name “Olmanriver.” I told my family that I was going to make sure that he came to dinner this year. My cousin Penny already knows him. He considers himself to be a “hippie.” Whereas, I would probably fit the “redneck” description better. Just like the Willits and the Laytonville baseball teams have become great friends because of their common interest in baseball, Olmanriver and I have become great friends because of our love of the history of the local area. The distinction between “hippie’ and “redneck” means no more to us than “brown” and “yellow” hair. Or, in my case, bald.

Olmanriver is a vegetarian. I had my mother bring her famous “vegetarian lasagna”, that most people rave about. She made such a large dish of it that I had to pack it to the car. I remember thinking that we would probably be having left-over lasagna for weeks. I called Mary and asked her what was on the menu, I was just trying to assure myself that there would be enough good vegi food for OMR. She assured me that we would have “tons of salads, cassolroles, and desserts and other dishes that would be veggie". And, of course my fried squash was veggie.

The day of the barbecue, Mary proudly stated that she had made her famous Veggie-chili beans for Olmanriver. As it turns out, the tri-tip was the only meat dish there!

As a big surprise for all of us, Olmanriver didn’t show up, as he firmly warned me that he might not. So, our dinner was mostly vegetarian. Every last bite of Mom’s huge lasagna was eaten, all the squash that I took got eaten. Again, we had a huge meal. We have a lot of very good cooks in our family, that cook what I call “down home food”. That’s real simple, but real delicious food. Most of it is garden fresh.

Well, I had one of the best visits that I’ve had with my family in a year. We all swapped “stories” about ourselves and had a great time. We quit calling them “lies” years ago!