ANNE E.'S JOURNAL -July 25, 2007 - "...I would not be writing this!"
		July 25, 2007 -"...I would not be writing this!" - My great grandfather was a grape farmer in Avon Lake. He was also a state representative. This was in the early 1900's when farmers were often statesmen. My great grandfather’s vineyards were what is now the Avon Lake football team’s practice field. Much of Avon Lake was once covered with grape vineyards and if you ask the residents there you’ll find that many of them still have to contend with “dips” in their yards. They are the result of the years the land there served to yield grapes. It is a wavy terrain. My great grandfather, Edward DeChant farmed grapes in Avon Lake. One day when my grandpa Woodie was just a toddler, he and my grandmother were over my great grandmother and grandfather’s house for a visit. My Grandpa Edward was out in the field plowing. It was at a time when the plows were pulled by horses and were basically a single plow with a seat. While he was out plowing and my grandmother was visiting with my great grandma, they lost track of my Grandpa Woodie (my aunt and I suspect that he was named after then president Woodrow Wilson, 1913-1921). They began searching for him. Meanwhile my grandpa Edward was out in his field cussing at his horse. The horse had come to a stop. He was trying to get it to continue moving through the dirt and acres more to plow that day. The horse had come to a standstill and despite much cussing and probably a snap or two of the whip the horse would not budge. Finally my grandpa Edward got off the plow and walked forward toward the stubborn horse. His eyes took him from the horses head and bit, down its chest, legs and to the ground. There, lying in the trough, inches away from that horses hooves was the toddler my grandma had been searching for, my grandpa Woodie, asleep in the field. God Bless that horse. It’s weird to think about all that would not have transpired had that horse not been so stubborn and loyal. I would not be writing this.