I think back to Nickerson and Strong Street and as I recall, my future stretched before me and the road was very long. Days were filled with running up and down the dirt road barefooted and playing "Kick the Can" at night. That was summer. The sand pit was up the road behind the house. We were not allowed to go there. We knew that. So where do you think we spent the hot afternoons? Correct. The sand pit was cool. We knew we would get a lickin' sure as shit if Momma knew we were in that water, so we made sure we were dry before she got home. Seems like the name of that sand pit was Vincents. Athey's sand pit was over on the highway and Mummy's was outside of town near the Arkansas river, so this one had to be Vincent's. It was not a working pit, so no one was ever around. Of course there was a "No Trespassing" sign, but we were too little to read it and if we had been able to read it, we had no idea what trespassing meant.
I could not swim when I was little so I always stayed in the low part with the little kids. To be honest I did not learn to swim until about 10 years ago. Kenny did not know how to swim either and we took the boat out every weekend in the summer. I think we were pretty naïve in that area, but it all worked out. I had made sure that all my kids knew how to swim, but I never thought it was important for me to know. About 10 years ago, I decided that I should learn the art of that and off I went to the warm water pool at the "Y". I learned the art of survival and decided that swimming was not for me and I gave it up for other things. I just never liked the water up my nose or in my ears. Sorry. Just not my bag.
I do not think most of you know just what Kansas weather is and how we survived back then. It is hot in Kansas. Hot and humid. There were no air conditioners in those days. The best we could hope for was to lay under a tree in the shade and with a little luck, a soft breeze would blow across our bodies and that was how we cooled ourselves. Churches used to have cardboard fans in the rack where the hymnals were kept. We were not allowed to steal those either. It was not unusual for the temperature to soar above the 100 degree mark. And of course on days when it was that hot and a cloud came up there was a damn good chance that it was bringing a tornado. Feast or famine. We knew if a tornado came we were to run for the cellar, but I have already told you that no way in hell was I going down in that hell hole.
If we thought summers were bad, we knew winters were worse. We had a wood stove in the front room, but it burned out in the night and had to be rebuilt every morning. That was Jake's job. Since we walked to and from every where. When it snowed we followed in Jake's footprints going to school. I do not remember having boots when I was little, but I do recall at one point Jake grew out of his and they were handed down to me. Does anyone remember galoshes? They were black and had 4 or 5 buckles on the front to hold them on. I would rather have been caught stark naked in a snowbank then to be caught dead in those things. Of course mother gave me that lecture on "pride going before the fall and a haughty spirit before destruction" and I wore the damn things to school. In later years I worked and made enough money to buy my first new pair of boots. I went to Warringtons Dry Goods and they had two pairs in my size. One pair was brown rubber and the other was white with fur around the top. I wanted the white pair so bad I could taste it, but I bought the brown pair so as not to be prideful. What a friggin' moron I was in those days!
I recall mother making me a new coat. It was light teal corduroy and had been something else previously, but she carefully took it apart and cut a pattern to fit me. I was so proud! I wore it to school as soon as it was finished and some boy said, "So you got a new coat. It is still old and it is not pretty." Kids are so mean at that age. I would like to say it did not bother me, but it did. Until you live in a world where everything is hand me downs, you can not know the feelings. I tried to just be happy that I had a coat that no one had worn before me, but somehow the joy was gone.
When I entered high school it was in Plevna, Kansas and I lived with my Grandma Haas and Great Grandma Hatfield. I stayed there for 5 months until Grandma Haas passed away. Then I was moved back to Nickerson and enrolled in Nickerson High.
I would like to say that my life got better and I was happy at school, but that would be a lie. I do look back on my early childhood in Nickerson as the happiest time of my life, but not at school. I was happy at home, but I was an outcast at school and I grew to resent the snobby kids. My best friend all through grade school was a girl named Barbara, but when we left grade school she drifted away. By the time I reached my Sophmore year I had new friends and weekends usually were spent sneaking into Duke Bankey's home brew. We moved to Hutchinson the year I was a senior. I dropped out of school and my formal education was behind me. I was now an attendee in the school of hard knocks and I graduated at the head of my class although I was never sober enough to know it.
And then life picked me up and spun me around and landed me here on the Mesa. So here I set looking down a very short road at what remains of my Golden years. Sorry, but that is such an asinine statement. I am once more reminded of one of Mother's jewels of wisdom. I was beating my chest once and she had told me I was my own worst enemy. At the time I thought she was nuts, but as I contemplate that next hill I have to climb I hear the echoes of another of her adages and I think this was her best. It was "Sow the wind and reap the whirlwind." She was right. I spent many years sowing the wind and now it is time for my harvest. I gotta' say, it got here a whole lot faster then I thought it would. Yesterday I was young, but the stop sign is coming up fast!
I could not swim when I was little so I always stayed in the low part with the little kids. To be honest I did not learn to swim until about 10 years ago. Kenny did not know how to swim either and we took the boat out every weekend in the summer. I think we were pretty naïve in that area, but it all worked out. I had made sure that all my kids knew how to swim, but I never thought it was important for me to know. About 10 years ago, I decided that I should learn the art of that and off I went to the warm water pool at the "Y". I learned the art of survival and decided that swimming was not for me and I gave it up for other things. I just never liked the water up my nose or in my ears. Sorry. Just not my bag.
I do not think most of you know just what Kansas weather is and how we survived back then. It is hot in Kansas. Hot and humid. There were no air conditioners in those days. The best we could hope for was to lay under a tree in the shade and with a little luck, a soft breeze would blow across our bodies and that was how we cooled ourselves. Churches used to have cardboard fans in the rack where the hymnals were kept. We were not allowed to steal those either. It was not unusual for the temperature to soar above the 100 degree mark. And of course on days when it was that hot and a cloud came up there was a damn good chance that it was bringing a tornado. Feast or famine. We knew if a tornado came we were to run for the cellar, but I have already told you that no way in hell was I going down in that hell hole.
If we thought summers were bad, we knew winters were worse. We had a wood stove in the front room, but it burned out in the night and had to be rebuilt every morning. That was Jake's job. Since we walked to and from every where. When it snowed we followed in Jake's footprints going to school. I do not remember having boots when I was little, but I do recall at one point Jake grew out of his and they were handed down to me. Does anyone remember galoshes? They were black and had 4 or 5 buckles on the front to hold them on. I would rather have been caught stark naked in a snowbank then to be caught dead in those things. Of course mother gave me that lecture on "pride going before the fall and a haughty spirit before destruction" and I wore the damn things to school. In later years I worked and made enough money to buy my first new pair of boots. I went to Warringtons Dry Goods and they had two pairs in my size. One pair was brown rubber and the other was white with fur around the top. I wanted the white pair so bad I could taste it, but I bought the brown pair so as not to be prideful. What a friggin' moron I was in those days!
I recall mother making me a new coat. It was light teal corduroy and had been something else previously, but she carefully took it apart and cut a pattern to fit me. I was so proud! I wore it to school as soon as it was finished and some boy said, "So you got a new coat. It is still old and it is not pretty." Kids are so mean at that age. I would like to say it did not bother me, but it did. Until you live in a world where everything is hand me downs, you can not know the feelings. I tried to just be happy that I had a coat that no one had worn before me, but somehow the joy was gone.
When I entered high school it was in Plevna, Kansas and I lived with my Grandma Haas and Great Grandma Hatfield. I stayed there for 5 months until Grandma Haas passed away. Then I was moved back to Nickerson and enrolled in Nickerson High.
I would like to say that my life got better and I was happy at school, but that would be a lie. I do look back on my early childhood in Nickerson as the happiest time of my life, but not at school. I was happy at home, but I was an outcast at school and I grew to resent the snobby kids. My best friend all through grade school was a girl named Barbara, but when we left grade school she drifted away. By the time I reached my Sophmore year I had new friends and weekends usually were spent sneaking into Duke Bankey's home brew. We moved to Hutchinson the year I was a senior. I dropped out of school and my formal education was behind me. I was now an attendee in the school of hard knocks and I graduated at the head of my class although I was never sober enough to know it.
And then life picked me up and spun me around and landed me here on the Mesa. So here I set looking down a very short road at what remains of my Golden years. Sorry, but that is such an asinine statement. I am once more reminded of one of Mother's jewels of wisdom. I was beating my chest once and she had told me I was my own worst enemy. At the time I thought she was nuts, but as I contemplate that next hill I have to climb I hear the echoes of another of her adages and I think this was her best. It was "Sow the wind and reap the whirlwind." She was right. I spent many years sowing the wind and now it is time for my harvest. I gotta' say, it got here a whole lot faster then I thought it would. Yesterday I was young, but the stop sign is coming up fast!
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