Thursday, February 26, 2004
CALIFORNIA CALLS
After grandma Andersen came to live with us Louis moved to the basement. There were stairs and an outside door so it was perfect for him and his pals to come and go without tramping through the kitchen. His room was a favorite snooping place for me. There were model airplanes hanging from the ceiling along with all sorts of junk that boys like. I made routine visits to check it out.
When mom went to call Louis for breakfast from the top of the basement steps she never knew who would emerge. Sometimes he had one, two or more buddies who decided to spend the night. They would be working on a project of some kind and it would be too late to go home. They all knew mom usually had pancakes for breakfast fare and she always made them feel welcome.
One morning mom called Louis to breakfast and we began eating. She called a second time and a third, then went down to see if he was asleep. She found the bed empty with a note on top of the covers. It said he and his buddy, Tom Stuart, were hitch-hiking to California and he would write when he got there. Mom instantly panicked, Dad got mad and I thought it was very exciting. “Just like the movies,” I ventured but the comment was lost in the flurry of the moment.
For some time the folks tried to reason why he would do such a thing but in the end their reasoning made no more sense than the note. Dad went to work, mom was clearing the table in a frozen act of routine and I wondered if I would ever see him again. One day a post-card came in the mail. They made it to California and he was driving a delivery truck for a florist. His card sounded cavalier and enthusiastic. He sent another card or two and then we didn’t hear for a while. I will never forget the look on mom’s face when she got the next one. It simply said, “I am coming home. Love Louie”
When dad came home and she showed him the card I was surprised that he wasn’t as happy as we were about it. He took the attitude that he left and he could just stay gone…..he wouldn’t be welcoming him back with open arms…..on and on…… However the day Louis came up the steps and in the front door we were all overjoyed, dad included. For days he told stories of his adventure. One time they couldn’t get another ride and it was dark and isolated in a hilly wooded area. They heard sounds that sent them scurrying up a sign board and they stayed there the rest of the night. Mom and dad would listen and shake their heads. My brother’s laugh and his jolly recollections of the experience soon eased mom’s mind and she was able to join in with the moment.
Louis had a taste of the larger world and was looking forward to getting out of school and finding a job. He did drive for another florist in Omaha and even worked inside some. He made an arrangement for mom once that she prized. It was a flat pottery dish with dried moss around a mirror with a little green frog on it. The impression being the mirror was a lake and there were a few other little items around the lake edge to make it more realistic. Long after that was gone from so many moves my mother still kept the little lead frog that was painted green. I am sure it is in her things somewhere waiting for me to find it.
One thing I was surprised to find was the card telling us he was coming home. When mom showed it to him he let out a rich unbelieving laugh. “Oh yah?” he said. “I wondered if it would ever get to you.” He had been given a ride in a small local aircraft for part of the way home and seeing a couple of girls below he wrote the note, tied it to a pair of pliers and pitched it out. He figured they would never find it and if they did they wouldn’t mail it.
It tells a lot about a person when you look through things they saved during their life. The small, insignificant looking items to anyone else is very precious to the one who kept it. In her things I came across the letter he wrote when he left. I had not seen it since the day he left. The contents held me spellbound as I read the words. He didn’t want them to be hurt or for them to think he didn’t appreciate them. He wrote that he felt he had the best parents in the world ….but this was something he had to do. Then he wrote, “Dad, don’t blame mom for this, if you blame anyone, blame me.”
I looked at the yellowed paper and the envelope………..and felt the presence of my brother and my parents…….
Until tomorrow,
Essentially Esther
When mom went to call Louis for breakfast from the top of the basement steps she never knew who would emerge. Sometimes he had one, two or more buddies who decided to spend the night. They would be working on a project of some kind and it would be too late to go home. They all knew mom usually had pancakes for breakfast fare and she always made them feel welcome.
One morning mom called Louis to breakfast and we began eating. She called a second time and a third, then went down to see if he was asleep. She found the bed empty with a note on top of the covers. It said he and his buddy, Tom Stuart, were hitch-hiking to California and he would write when he got there. Mom instantly panicked, Dad got mad and I thought it was very exciting. “Just like the movies,” I ventured but the comment was lost in the flurry of the moment.
For some time the folks tried to reason why he would do such a thing but in the end their reasoning made no more sense than the note. Dad went to work, mom was clearing the table in a frozen act of routine and I wondered if I would ever see him again. One day a post-card came in the mail. They made it to California and he was driving a delivery truck for a florist. His card sounded cavalier and enthusiastic. He sent another card or two and then we didn’t hear for a while. I will never forget the look on mom’s face when she got the next one. It simply said, “I am coming home. Love Louie”
When dad came home and she showed him the card I was surprised that he wasn’t as happy as we were about it. He took the attitude that he left and he could just stay gone…..he wouldn’t be welcoming him back with open arms…..on and on…… However the day Louis came up the steps and in the front door we were all overjoyed, dad included. For days he told stories of his adventure. One time they couldn’t get another ride and it was dark and isolated in a hilly wooded area. They heard sounds that sent them scurrying up a sign board and they stayed there the rest of the night. Mom and dad would listen and shake their heads. My brother’s laugh and his jolly recollections of the experience soon eased mom’s mind and she was able to join in with the moment.
Louis had a taste of the larger world and was looking forward to getting out of school and finding a job. He did drive for another florist in Omaha and even worked inside some. He made an arrangement for mom once that she prized. It was a flat pottery dish with dried moss around a mirror with a little green frog on it. The impression being the mirror was a lake and there were a few other little items around the lake edge to make it more realistic. Long after that was gone from so many moves my mother still kept the little lead frog that was painted green. I am sure it is in her things somewhere waiting for me to find it.
One thing I was surprised to find was the card telling us he was coming home. When mom showed it to him he let out a rich unbelieving laugh. “Oh yah?” he said. “I wondered if it would ever get to you.” He had been given a ride in a small local aircraft for part of the way home and seeing a couple of girls below he wrote the note, tied it to a pair of pliers and pitched it out. He figured they would never find it and if they did they wouldn’t mail it.
It tells a lot about a person when you look through things they saved during their life. The small, insignificant looking items to anyone else is very precious to the one who kept it. In her things I came across the letter he wrote when he left. I had not seen it since the day he left. The contents held me spellbound as I read the words. He didn’t want them to be hurt or for them to think he didn’t appreciate them. He wrote that he felt he had the best parents in the world ….but this was something he had to do. Then he wrote, “Dad, don’t blame mom for this, if you blame anyone, blame me.”
I looked at the yellowed paper and the envelope………..and felt the presence of my brother and my parents…….
Until tomorrow,
Essentially Esther
