November 30, 1995 - Winnie Billard: Teacher, Poet, FriendGA • The SUffolk Tknes' • November 30:1995 "'
Winnie Billard: Teacher, Poet, Friend
When we were first married we lived f
with my dad in his house. After five t
years, as with most young couples with
kids, we longed for a place of our own. t
Luckily during my high school years I
had bought an old Model A Ford for 1
$25 from Mr. Barteau, who lived at the i
head of our lane, and from that first day
of having "wheels" every road, back
road and anything that looked like a
road was explored. And
so when it came to look-
ing for a place to build
our dream house, I O
remembered one of those
"anything that looked like Nat
a road" places that led up
into a woods that over - by P
looked a farm. It was stouten
washed down and worked
out through years of
horse - and -wagon travel. It later became
our driveway 300 feet off the regular
traveled road.
The farmer who owned the "wood
lot" was Clayton Billard, a small man
with a special greeting that let you know
here was a wholesome, sincere person.
Retired from farming, he rented his
land, built some flat - bottom rowboats
for sale in his spare time and in general
puttered about the homestead, keeping it
in typical clean, trim Yankee fashion.
Always wanting to live off the road
and in the woods
`We'll all where I could look
out over fields and
miss this open spaces, I felt
this location was
wonder just about perfect
worker, and so with a little
dickering we
but the bought two acres
of woodland with
memories the provision that
of of her the sliver of
woods next to the
will linger driveway leading
up to the farm
long and fields never be
riends. She always had an interest in
he world about her. She told us of the
path through what is now our woods
hat she and her sister, Lois, once played
along and hunted out the arbutus and
ady slippers. I can well imagine the joy
t must have been in those uncluttered
days to wander about the farm edges
and woods when our East End was still
undiscovered. She would tell of her dad,
after plowing in the
spring, picking up arrow -
V$ heads in the back lots and
seeing dark circles of earth
n that she was told were
Indian sites.
use The woods she remem-
8111 bered was not the woods
burgh of today. No, that ancient
woods with its monarch
oak trees went down dur-
ing the '38 hurricane and the great
clumps of earth wrenched out with the
trees still mark where they were blown
down. In their place today grow mostly
hickory trees. It's interesting to note
that hickory trees in contrast to oak
trees have a much different root sys-
tem. Hickories will hardly ever be
blown over for they have a tap root
much like a carrot. We found this out
when we dug our cellar. How Angelo,
our excavator, cussed those stubborn
stumps!
cleared. Nothing
true for could be more to
many of us.' my liking and so
we built a small
house where we
brought up our family. Later we'd buy
additional pieces of land as they became
available, but our purchase of land from
Clayton Billard introduced us to Winnie,
one of his two daughters.
After her dad died Winnie lived for
years in their two -story trim farmhouse
next to us and we all became great
A Fitting Memorial
When Winnie's dad died of a heart at-
tack he was walking across his back
lawn. Some time after his death Winnie
asked me if I could dig a small tree
from "the woods" and plant it where he
fell. "Why sure," was my reply but
what kind of a tree would she want? A
native cedar would be nice seeing it's
an.evergreen, but they are short - lived.
We had plenty of hickory but they were
so commonplace I thought them in-
appropriate. Perhaps I could find a
white oak sapling. There were only two
big white oaks left after the hurricane in
the woods. They are king of the oaks
and besides, I'm sure when her dad
built those rowboats he probably used
white oak for the ribs. So I searched
around the area where the white oaks
grew and found a young sapling that
would do fine. That was more than 30
years ago.
Winnie was a storehouse of informa-
tion on local history. She was the one
who told of how the road along the front
of our property got its name, Skunk
Lane. Seems there were groups of farm-
Good things come in
small packages.
It
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Photo by raw btou[enuuiy,i
LOPPED TREE —These unique bent trees can be found along many
roads and land boundaries. This particular one bounded the Billard proper-
ty on Skunk Lane, Cutchogue.
ers who would go down to the causeway
(that leads to Nassau Point) and haul
seine for bunkers each spring. The
bunkers swam in great schools in our
bays in those days and thousands were
brought ashore by the fishermen encir-
cling them with long nets. They'd be
loaded into wagons and put on the fields
for fertilizer. Each of these groups of
farmer - fishermen had a different name
and the ones that lived on or near the
road in front of our place that led to the
bay were called the Skunks, therefore the
name Skunk Lane.
Another group were
called the Crows
and they were from
another part of
town, etc.
Winnie knew
about lopped trees
that once lined the
road down front. In
olden days a tree
was bent over when
young and tied or
held in some way
so that as the tree
grew it held the
bent shape. I pho-
tographed one such
tree and she wrote a
poem about it.
She also told
about how land
was often fenced
off by digging
they are more easily seen.
Winnie was a teacher in many ways
from her early days almost up to the
time she died. She taught in Southold
for many years and after her retirement
entered the Peace Corps to serve in
Malasia. She taught English there and
we all remember the picture of her on a
motorcycle going to work in the back
country.
We'll all miss this wonder worker but
the memories of her will linger long and
true for many of us. The woods where
she and her sister
LAMENT TO A TREE
I wonder what he thought
that man who lopped
an oak beside the marsh
To make a hedge?
'T will keep the cattle
ditches around the
property. It not only marked the
boundaries of certain plots but also
kept the cows from wandering off.
There is still a section of our land that
shows traces of old dug boundary
lines. Another place I've seen these
boundary lines is on Robins Island.
There, where man has not maneuvered
I. I d as much as on the mainland,
t e an
walked the path and
where her dad cut
his wood are still
there. The farm
fields her dad
plowed are still
there but now lay
fallow. The still -trim
farmhouse I can see
from our bedroom
window has a new
tenant and the white
oak she asked to
have planted is
growing strong and
straight. The world
goes on but we all
know it's a better
world because in her
own way she set the
standards for what
was good and
helped to make it
that way.
P.S. — As the Christmas season ap-
proaches there are many who will miss
Winnie's homemade coffee cake with
the red cherries on top and we'll miss
those little surprises like her dad's pitch-
fork with a big red ribbon on it we
found standing in the snow early one
Christmas morning. It's still used in the
stable today.