Thursday, August 31, 2017
Memories of Beth Hope Resh
(1954-2017)
Rhonda Dahl Buchanan
My Aunt Maxine gave birth to a baby girl, Beth Hope Resh, on June 12, 1954, and four months later my mother, Dorothy Mae Dahl (Beth’s Aunt Mamie), gave birth to me. In the fondest memories of my childhood, “Betherine” (that’s what I called her) is at my side. Every summer the “City Slickers” would drive up from Baltimore to the mountains of Pennsylvania to spend a few weeks in Indian Head at Aunt Maxine and Uncle Pete’s house. While Max and Mamie would enjoy each other’s company, my brother Michael would tag along with Beth’s brother Chris like a shadow, and my younger sisters Lisa and Tina would find plenty to do at Resh’s General Store.
Meanwhile, Beth and I would have adventures of our own, like the time she suggested we hike up the mountains following the railroad tracks that ran past her house, and we ended up scrambling up a hillside and clinging to tree limbs for dear life as a train sped by below us.
Then there was the time Beth suggested we cross the Indian Head Creek by walking along a tight wire cable that stretched out high above the “crick”. Betherine was fearless and encouraged me to grab hold of the top cable and slide along the bottom cable as if we were crossing Niagara Falls. I managed to conquer my fear of heights until Chris decided to have some fun and jumped up and down on the cable at the other end and I was certain that I would not survive.
Danger always lurked around the corner whenever Beth invited her cousin “Rhondee” (that’s what she called me) to join her on an adventure. Like the time she suggested that we sleep in a tree fort and we headed into the dark woods with flashlights, singing at the top of our lungs to scare away any critters that might attack us—raccoons, spiders and snakes, and possibly mountain lions and bears.
Then there was the time Beth suggested that we pick strawberries in some old neighbor’s field. As we gathered the lush berries, eating them at the same time, the old man came out with a shotgun and started shooting – no doubt in the air and not at us, but we didn’t stay long enough to find out. Beth took off running and I didn’t look back until I made it to the house with blood running down my leg from the gash I got from jumping over a barbed wire fence. Luckily for me, Beth’s grandfather, Clarence Resh, was there and knew a thing or two about butchering cows and stitching up animals if need be, so he sewed up my leg that day. The scar finally faded but that memory and all the other memories I have of my dear sister-cousin Betherine are as vivid as ever.
Years later she was the Maid of Honor at my wedding, and then went on to marry Steve and have a daughter Megan Sue, her pride and joy. Our adventures finally came to an end, but I know that for Beth they’re just beginning and she’s at peace now, in heaven, with my mother and all the Aunties – Grace, Connie, Sis, and Delores, and our Uncle Bill, who are watching over her.
Now that Beth is gone, I feel like a part of me has left this world too, but I know that she will live on in my heart forever.