When snow melts, the creeks do rise. — Watercolor by Pat Bean
“No matter what people tell you, words and ideas can change the world.” – Robin Williams
Remembering my Grandmother
I was reading High Tide in Tucson, an essay anthology by Barbara Kingsolver who mentioned that she was often tempted to use one of her grandmother’s axioms when asked to commit to a future obligation. “Lord willing, and the creeks don’t rise,” she wrote.
My grandmother used to say exactly the same thing — and suddenly my wondering-brain was wanting to know the origin of the phrase … and then I was putting down Kingsolver’s book for a bit of research.
As usual, I came up with conflicting stories. One is that the phrase was first used by Benjamin Hawkins, U.S. General Superintendent for Indian Affairs between 1796 and 1818. Supposedly he used it in a letter to Thomas Jefferson requesting his presence in Washington D.C. in which he replied he would be there “God willing and the Creek don’t rise,” meaning the Creek Indians.
Barbara Kingsolver is one of my favorite authors — and I’m loving this book of essays by her.
Others believe that Creek merely refers to a stream, and that it was simply a hayseed rural term meaning if nothing stops me or all goes well. One example for this is a mock rustic speech from an 1851 Graham’s American Monthly Magazine: “Feller-citizens — I’m not ’customed to public speakin’ before sich highfalutin’ audiences. … Yet here I stand before you a speckled hermit, wrapt in the risen-sun counterpane of my popilarity, an’ intendin’, Providence permittin’, and the creek don’t rise, to go it blind!”
Another example of early use of the phrase, according to Wikipedia, is from the 1894 Lafayette Gazette: “We are an American people, born under the flag of independence and if the Lord is willing and the creeks don’t rise, the American people who made this country will come pretty near controlling it.”
It’s also said to be a sign-off tag line of the 1930s’ radio broadcaster Bradley Kincaid. My grandmother liked to listen to the radio so maybe this is where she picked it up. And finally, it has also been attributed to Abraham Lincoln and Andrew Jackson, among others, on the usual principle that attaching a famous name to a story validates it.
Well, that was enough information, if not exactly uncomplicated, to placate this wondering-brain of mine — until the next time it is wants answers. In the meantime, God willing and the creek don’t rise, I’ll go back to reading High Tide in Tucson. And in case you’re wondering about that title, Kingsolver explains it in her first essay.
Bean Pat: In tribute to Mary Oliver https://deborahbrasket.wordpress.com/2019/01/20/mary-oliver-washed-in-light/ Her words live on.
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Pat Bean is a retired journalist who lives in Tucson with her canine companion Pepper. She is a wondering-wanderer, avid reader, enthusiastic birder and is always searching for life’s silver lining. Check out her book Travels with Maggie, available on Amazon, to learn more. She can be reached at patbean@msn.com
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I remember hearing that phrase when I was little. Thanks for sharing your research. 😊
Thank you for the share, Pat, and I also enjoyed hearing some of the history behind that colorful old saying.
Isn’t the internet a marvel? We wonder and Google answers. 20 years ago you’d have sat there wondering and would have had to make up a story about how it came about, which is maybe what all your sources did? 😉
Have you read Kingsolver’s new book yet?
No, I haven’t Colline.
I have heard good things about it and is one of the books I wish to read.
It’s fun to research the origin of quotations. As you’re aware, many of them on the Internet are misquoted and misattributed.
It is fun, but it sounds like both you and I know better than to believe everything they read. Thanks for commenting Steve. And just by the way, I love your blog because I’m always learning new things.