Saturday, February 28, 2004
ON TO MISSOURI
Having worked at an airport in Los Angeles for a short time one of the pilots took a liking to Louis and told him he’d better go home. He arranged for one of his pilots to let him ride along on a trip east. It was just a small plane but Louis got on. He was dropped at Chandler, Oklahoma when the weather became unfavorable. With his usual tenacity he managed a trip out with a company plane and made it back to Omaha. Yes, there really are angels unawares.
Of course we were overjoyed to see him and the stories were told and re-told for years after, always with a belly laugh and the unmistakable look of accomplishment on his face. In two months my dad sold out and we made the move to Missouri where it was just a stopping place for Louis.
Life back in the hills of South Central Missouri was still primitive with their own ideas about living and government. I figured it was much the same as Tennessee, the Virginia’s and Carolina’s. In May of 1945 when we moved it was beautiful and pristine …….but so backward it was almost humorous. The way people talked was like a “B” movie about hillbillies. However, we never made sport of them or were disrespectful.
I can understand why mom and dad were so content with their new location. After the stress of the war years in the plumbing business, the strange disappearance of uncle Robert and grandpa Andersen hanging himself it was like checking in at a rehab with no rules. They loved the area and became a part of it where Louis and I couldn’t.
The barn was the best building on the place. In fact, it was beautiful compared to the pitiful offering of a house. Mom and dad busied themselves making the place livable, buying some cows, pigs, chickens and a team of horses. There was no end to the work which dad incorporated for all of us.
We helped cut trees for wood, helped with cutting it up and getting it to the house. We burned the timber floor in the fall to kill the ticks, fleas and all the critters that like living in the woods. We helped with the haying and corn planting…butchering, gardening….milking and taking care of the animals. My dad was working overtime to get the place in the shape he envisioned. To Louis and me it looked like an endless endeavor that was never going anywhere. I guess we never bought into the idea.
He started school in the fall at Cabool riding a school bus to and from. The other option was a smaller town and school at Summersville which I chose. There were two bus routes available to us. He was in the junior year as his credits from Omaha were current with the curriculum for that grade at Cabool. The fact he quit school in February didn’t hold him back at all. I started my freshman year.
Louis got on the football team and in no time had a lot of friends. He enjoyed school at the time because it took him into civilization and away from the farm. He stuck with it until school was out the next Spring and then began the campaign to get the folks to let him join the Army. After visiting the recruiter in Cabool he came home with papers and they could see his mind was on leaving so they signed.
This time he would be leaving but with the permission of mom and dad. The body language as they both signed the papers was so sad. They knew this leaving would be his last from home……….but with the motion of the pen…….they let him go.
The date of his enlistment was June 6, 1946.
Until tomorrow,
Essentially Esther
Of course we were overjoyed to see him and the stories were told and re-told for years after, always with a belly laugh and the unmistakable look of accomplishment on his face. In two months my dad sold out and we made the move to Missouri where it was just a stopping place for Louis.
Life back in the hills of South Central Missouri was still primitive with their own ideas about living and government. I figured it was much the same as Tennessee, the Virginia’s and Carolina’s. In May of 1945 when we moved it was beautiful and pristine …….but so backward it was almost humorous. The way people talked was like a “B” movie about hillbillies. However, we never made sport of them or were disrespectful.
I can understand why mom and dad were so content with their new location. After the stress of the war years in the plumbing business, the strange disappearance of uncle Robert and grandpa Andersen hanging himself it was like checking in at a rehab with no rules. They loved the area and became a part of it where Louis and I couldn’t.
The barn was the best building on the place. In fact, it was beautiful compared to the pitiful offering of a house. Mom and dad busied themselves making the place livable, buying some cows, pigs, chickens and a team of horses. There was no end to the work which dad incorporated for all of us.
We helped cut trees for wood, helped with cutting it up and getting it to the house. We burned the timber floor in the fall to kill the ticks, fleas and all the critters that like living in the woods. We helped with the haying and corn planting…butchering, gardening….milking and taking care of the animals. My dad was working overtime to get the place in the shape he envisioned. To Louis and me it looked like an endless endeavor that was never going anywhere. I guess we never bought into the idea.
He started school in the fall at Cabool riding a school bus to and from. The other option was a smaller town and school at Summersville which I chose. There were two bus routes available to us. He was in the junior year as his credits from Omaha were current with the curriculum for that grade at Cabool. The fact he quit school in February didn’t hold him back at all. I started my freshman year.
Louis got on the football team and in no time had a lot of friends. He enjoyed school at the time because it took him into civilization and away from the farm. He stuck with it until school was out the next Spring and then began the campaign to get the folks to let him join the Army. After visiting the recruiter in Cabool he came home with papers and they could see his mind was on leaving so they signed.
This time he would be leaving but with the permission of mom and dad. The body language as they both signed the papers was so sad. They knew this leaving would be his last from home……….but with the motion of the pen…….they let him go.
The date of his enlistment was June 6, 1946.
Until tomorrow,
Essentially Esther
