John the Blacksmith and Snow the dog

When I was a child my dad would say, "let's go bummin'" and he meant that we would visit someone he knew.  This occurred mostly in the summer time.  Once we set out and traveled a certain distance we could guess where he meant to arrive, at least most of the time.  

One predictable destination was the estate of an old friend of dad.  A man by the name of John Anton.  All I remember of John Anton was that he seemed a veritable mountain of a man; but I was a small girl at the time. I believe that he was well over 6 foot 3 inches tall, and he seemed to be about 3 feet wide. He had been a blacksmith in his younger days, and often a 'smithy' was a very large man, as blacksmithing sometimes required great strength.

I could picture a very large man, bent over an anvil, working on horseshoes; a large horse observing the work.  John Anton was from a era when large, muscular young men were encouraged to learn the craft, a good living to be made from such work.

To be honest I do not have a clear picture of John Anton in my mind.  Mostly he was just a huge mound of man and chair.  He and my father would talk for hours; sometimes quietly, other times boisterously, shouting at each other and laughing.  Their carrying on could be heard from outdoors, where I spent most of my time when visiting the Antons. 

There was a large, white, Great Pyrenees dog, named Snow.  Apropos for a large man and his cheerful German wife, Agnes.  I believe that there are a small number of humans who attract certain animals to them, and that was the case with Snow.  For this dog had just shown up one day, and never left the Antons again.  Snow was a gentle and loving dog, but surely could be fierce if called upon to protect his chosen family.

The Antons also kept chickens.  Hundreds of chickens, housed in three large old yellow school buses. I liked to shout and watch the chickens scatter. They seemed quite stupid to a little girl.

Then I would follow Snow as he made his rounds, and then we would run around, Snow barking and wagging his bushy tail joyously.

As dusk approached I would grow tired and find my way into Agnes Anton's kitchen, where my mother was visiting with Mrs. Anton.  Agnes Anton made sure that we also left with some vegetables from her massive garden; rhubarb, asparagus, or a pie if she had an extra.

I was always quite happy to go visit Snow at the Anton farm, on Johnsburg Road.  


As dusk fell we would make our way home, as the sun made it's way below the horizon and the sky was painted with pinks, oranges, and purples.

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