Friday, May 07, 2004
ENTER....THE NEXT GENERATION
After Christmas and the New Year life began to settle down somewhat. Punky had his first birthday and I resumed working at the drug store. That Spring when school contracts were made out Opal’s husband took a teaching job in Oklahoma. They would be moving shortly after school was out.
She had been a dear friend and I was at a loss as to how I could ever repay her for all her kindness to me. She just laughed and said, “ Why honey, you can’t ever repay me but the next time you see a need and can fill it, that will be my pay.” She didn’t know that it became a lifelong practice of mine…….to do what I could when I could and to remember her in the process. Teaching me to crochet was also a lifelong companion and I tried to teach others as well as pass on things I made.
Opal wasn’t good at writing letters and in time there was no more word from her. I stopped writing as well after my life became busier and busier. I’m sure she has passed on by now but if there is a heaven……..and I know there is….Opal is there and deservedly so. She was an angel and inspiration when I needed it.
Dad was an engine man. He had oil for veins and thought the best music in the world was a fine tuned motor. He was self-taught and had a love affair with automobiles. When we would go on rides with mom and dad, Punky and George would be up front with dad and I would be in the back with mom. If a car passed us dad would say, “That’s a Chevrolet” or “that’s a Ford” and so on. It got so that Punky would say, “There goes a Chevrolet”….and dad would say, “by golly, that’s right!” If Punky was wrong, dad would go into detail as to why it wasn’t that car. He told him about the hood ornaments, the different fenders, the tail lights and any other distinction he could think of.
In no time Punky learned all of that plus trucks, sedans, vans and convertibles. After that he learned the colors of every car we met or passed. It was sport for dad to hear him call them off by the numbers and he became harder and harder to fool. One day we were out riding on a Sunday afternoon and dad spotted a train. Like all little kids Punky loved to watch the trains so dad got the idea to drive fast enough to get ahead of the train…..and get to the station house as the train came roaring through the town. We drove like mad and finally about 50 miles up the road we made it to the station and stood on the track-side as the train came roaring down the tracks.
It looked like it was going to hit us at that close range and I guarantee if you want a thrill, that is the mother of all thrills. As the train got closer it was blowing it’s whistle in long shrill blasts and as the cars passed by us there was a definite rhythm to them. As for Punky he became so frightened he tried to crawl over George’s shoulder. His eyes were as big as saucers and dad had a big grin on his face as he watched the reaction. To be completely honest it was a bit scary to the rest of us as well. It was quite an experience.
That same summer we rode to Nebraska with mom and dad to the Stricklett reunion in August. Dad bought a new Henry J car and wanted to see what kind of gas mileage he could get on it. That was when gas was cheap…….but dad was always looking for a better way to go further for less. George and I were crammed into the small back seat with a pad between us for Punky to sit on and sleep on. The roads were not as good in the early 50’s so it took longer and the rides weren’t as smooth.
By the time we got to Blair George and I were almost done in…….dad didn’t have air conditioning and so the wind blowing in the windows for over 600 miles and cramped as we were….believe me it was good to get out of the car. That was the summer Punky was cutting some more teeth and I spent most of my time upstairs in aunt Mary’s bedroom rocking a sweaty little boy.
Grandma Stricklett was introduced to her third great-grandchild; all boys. The reunion was held at the city park in the town where I spent a lot of time growing up and where I went to school my first year. It was good to come back and bring my contribution to the next generation. I had always loved my aunts and uncles and since we lived so far away it was special when we could be together. Now it is up to the cousins to bring about a reunion for most of our elders are gone. I am so glad I grew up in a loving and caring family and proud of the heritage we all shared. Those good times rest in memory for the family we were, the family we are……and the family to come…….
Until tomorrow,
Essentially Esther
She had been a dear friend and I was at a loss as to how I could ever repay her for all her kindness to me. She just laughed and said, “ Why honey, you can’t ever repay me but the next time you see a need and can fill it, that will be my pay.” She didn’t know that it became a lifelong practice of mine…….to do what I could when I could and to remember her in the process. Teaching me to crochet was also a lifelong companion and I tried to teach others as well as pass on things I made.
Opal wasn’t good at writing letters and in time there was no more word from her. I stopped writing as well after my life became busier and busier. I’m sure she has passed on by now but if there is a heaven……..and I know there is….Opal is there and deservedly so. She was an angel and inspiration when I needed it.
Dad was an engine man. He had oil for veins and thought the best music in the world was a fine tuned motor. He was self-taught and had a love affair with automobiles. When we would go on rides with mom and dad, Punky and George would be up front with dad and I would be in the back with mom. If a car passed us dad would say, “That’s a Chevrolet” or “that’s a Ford” and so on. It got so that Punky would say, “There goes a Chevrolet”….and dad would say, “by golly, that’s right!” If Punky was wrong, dad would go into detail as to why it wasn’t that car. He told him about the hood ornaments, the different fenders, the tail lights and any other distinction he could think of.
In no time Punky learned all of that plus trucks, sedans, vans and convertibles. After that he learned the colors of every car we met or passed. It was sport for dad to hear him call them off by the numbers and he became harder and harder to fool. One day we were out riding on a Sunday afternoon and dad spotted a train. Like all little kids Punky loved to watch the trains so dad got the idea to drive fast enough to get ahead of the train…..and get to the station house as the train came roaring through the town. We drove like mad and finally about 50 miles up the road we made it to the station and stood on the track-side as the train came roaring down the tracks.
It looked like it was going to hit us at that close range and I guarantee if you want a thrill, that is the mother of all thrills. As the train got closer it was blowing it’s whistle in long shrill blasts and as the cars passed by us there was a definite rhythm to them. As for Punky he became so frightened he tried to crawl over George’s shoulder. His eyes were as big as saucers and dad had a big grin on his face as he watched the reaction. To be completely honest it was a bit scary to the rest of us as well. It was quite an experience.
That same summer we rode to Nebraska with mom and dad to the Stricklett reunion in August. Dad bought a new Henry J car and wanted to see what kind of gas mileage he could get on it. That was when gas was cheap…….but dad was always looking for a better way to go further for less. George and I were crammed into the small back seat with a pad between us for Punky to sit on and sleep on. The roads were not as good in the early 50’s so it took longer and the rides weren’t as smooth.
By the time we got to Blair George and I were almost done in…….dad didn’t have air conditioning and so the wind blowing in the windows for over 600 miles and cramped as we were….believe me it was good to get out of the car. That was the summer Punky was cutting some more teeth and I spent most of my time upstairs in aunt Mary’s bedroom rocking a sweaty little boy.
Grandma Stricklett was introduced to her third great-grandchild; all boys. The reunion was held at the city park in the town where I spent a lot of time growing up and where I went to school my first year. It was good to come back and bring my contribution to the next generation. I had always loved my aunts and uncles and since we lived so far away it was special when we could be together. Now it is up to the cousins to bring about a reunion for most of our elders are gone. I am so glad I grew up in a loving and caring family and proud of the heritage we all shared. Those good times rest in memory for the family we were, the family we are……and the family to come…….
Until tomorrow,
Essentially Esther
