It must have been about 1955 when I went to live with my grandma'a in Plevna, Kansas. It was also the year I started high school. Now there were only about 40 kids in the whole high school. High School was on the second floor and grade school on the first. But all that is irrelevant.
What matters is that it was in this place I began my high school education. Now, as luck would have it, the lady who lived right next door to the grandma's was the daughter of the man who lived next door to my home in Nickerson! They also had an old car that ran pretty good and traveled back home to Nickerson a couple of times a month. Mother made arrangements for me to ride with them when they did go to see her and father.
Now it becomes a little fuzzy in my mind, but I think the lady was named Elsie and I think she was blind. I do not think they had any children. All that is irrelevant in the grand scheme of things. So once a month, I think, we would pile into the car and settle in for the 20-mile drive. The man would fit the crank in the front of the car, wherever he fitted it, and give it a hard pull. The engine would roar to life and he would jump into the car and as soon as the engine was running smoothly, he would retrieve the crank, close the hood, and prepare to drive the car. It was when we traversed the road to highway 50 that the fun began!
He liked to sing! I strongly suspect that he may have also liked to drink a bit! Of that I am not sure! But he did like to sing. One of the songs went like this:
" Oh, I won't go hunting with you, Jake, but I'll go chasing women!
So put them hounds back in the pen and quit your silly grinning!
The moon is right and I'm half tight, life is just beginning!
I won't go fishing with you Jake, but I'll go chasing women."
His wife would try to hush him because there "was a child in the car," but he just sang all the louder. He seemed to know lots of songs. but that is the one that sticks in my mind.
Sundays at our house were always special because we usually had meat of some sort. Special was when we had a roast. That did not happen very often, but there was always hope!
At 4:00 we would hear the car roar to life next door and momma would make sure my face was clean. Then the horn would beep (ooga, ooga) and I would run out to the street. The man would open the door, I would jump in, and he would close the door. Then began the 20 mile one hour drive back to Plevna.
I wish I could remember his name, but I don't. Life was so simple back then! Needs were few. Pleasure could be found in walking barefoot in the hot sand road of Strong Street or running the back road to the sandpit. Kick the can was the game of the night and the moon was the only light we had after the sun went down.
Go to sleep, all my childhood memories! I sometimes long for the day when I can run out the door, jump in an old jalopy and go see my momma.
Peace!
