I sent several of the cousins a message on Facebook a few weeks ago asking for stories about Grandma and Grandpa Knox. I know that writing can be difficult and finding time to do so is even tougher. I just finished my first little story and I thought I would share it with you here to hopefully get your creative juices flowing. I am happy to transcribe for any of you if you would like to just tell me some stories. We can record the conversation and then I will get it down in written form. Any help you are willing to give will be fantastic!!
Here is my first attempt. :)
South Haven Summers
Every summer during my childhood, or at least it seemed like every summer, I would spend one to two weeks on the farm. I remember the excitement that came from packing and getting ready for the trip. I knew that every trip would include playing outside . . . A LOT! They would also be filled with eating amazing home cooked meals, visiting the nursing home with grandma while she worked, and trips to town for groceries, errands and even a day or two at the Caldwell pool. Sometimes my dad would drive us down to the farm. Other times we would take a Greyhound bus. My parents would drop us off at the bus station in downtown Wichita and wave to us as we boarded the bus. The farm was just outside of South Haven, Kansas. There wasn’t a bus stop in South Haven, so my grandma and/or grandpa would meet us at the bus stop in Wellington and drive the 20 miles or so back to their farm. It was only an hour bus ride, but to the mind of a kid, it always seemed like it took forever to get down there.
During most of these long visits I was accompanied by my sister Karen. We would go for long walks down the country dirt roads, talking, dreaming and simply enjoying the freedom of being kids. Quite often, other cousins would be around as well. I remember lots of time spent with Sherry and Heather Knox since they lived nearby in South Haven. I remember spending time with Bryon Bacon and the other Bacon boys as well. My Aunt Virginia and Uncle Jimmy Bacon owned a farm just a few miles outside of town and were close by as well. All of these cousins were born and raised in rural Kansas and knew much more about farming and country living than my sister and I did. Wichita was the big city to them and they viewed us as quite different. I guess we really were. We were the butt of many jokes and pranks during that time. They always knew how to get us “city prisses” worked up.
I remember one time in particular when Danny Cartmill was living with grandma and grandpa. On one of those walks along the country road, Danny was walking with us. He spent the whole time telling us all about the coyotes that roamed the area and how they might jump out of the trees at any time. Once we were sufficiently troubled, he took off running as fast as he could through the nearby field and into the trees. It was dusk and the sky was getting a bit dark and we were scared to death! I am pretty sure we both tried to follow him through the field, but he was too fast and too used to running through rough terrain, so we couldn’t even remotely keep up. He got such a kick out of watching us walk all the way back to the house, scouring the road, trees and fields for coyotes, clinging to each other for protection.
I don’t know really how my sister felt about being called a city priss but I know that I hated it. I considered myself a tomboy and spent most of my days back home playing sports with the guys during recess at school and priding myself in being tough. Bryon Bacon, who was the youngest of the Bacon kids and the closest to my age, loved to tease me in this manner. He knew that it got my goat and so that encouraged him to do it all that much more. One summer day, I had heard the city priss jab one too many times. I told Bryon that he better shut his mouth or I would kick his butt. He didn’t believe that any girl from Wichita, especially one that was younger than him, could do anything so he challenged me to a fight. Of course, we couldn’t let grandma know that we were fighting so we went down to the grove (a grove of trees that were behind the house) and commenced to fighting. I believe Heather and Sherry were there to watch. All I remember of the fight was that we both weren’t going to give up easily and that it seemed to go on for quite a while. Bryon claims that I whooped his tail. I don’t necessarily remember feeling like I whopped him, but I do know that I never heard him call me a city priss after that day.
Here is my first attempt. :)
South Haven Summers
Every summer during my childhood, or at least it seemed like every summer, I would spend one to two weeks on the farm. I remember the excitement that came from packing and getting ready for the trip. I knew that every trip would include playing outside . . . A LOT! They would also be filled with eating amazing home cooked meals, visiting the nursing home with grandma while she worked, and trips to town for groceries, errands and even a day or two at the Caldwell pool. Sometimes my dad would drive us down to the farm. Other times we would take a Greyhound bus. My parents would drop us off at the bus station in downtown Wichita and wave to us as we boarded the bus. The farm was just outside of South Haven, Kansas. There wasn’t a bus stop in South Haven, so my grandma and/or grandpa would meet us at the bus stop in Wellington and drive the 20 miles or so back to their farm. It was only an hour bus ride, but to the mind of a kid, it always seemed like it took forever to get down there.
During most of these long visits I was accompanied by my sister Karen. We would go for long walks down the country dirt roads, talking, dreaming and simply enjoying the freedom of being kids. Quite often, other cousins would be around as well. I remember lots of time spent with Sherry and Heather Knox since they lived nearby in South Haven. I remember spending time with Bryon Bacon and the other Bacon boys as well. My Aunt Virginia and Uncle Jimmy Bacon owned a farm just a few miles outside of town and were close by as well. All of these cousins were born and raised in rural Kansas and knew much more about farming and country living than my sister and I did. Wichita was the big city to them and they viewed us as quite different. I guess we really were. We were the butt of many jokes and pranks during that time. They always knew how to get us “city prisses” worked up.
I remember one time in particular when Danny Cartmill was living with grandma and grandpa. On one of those walks along the country road, Danny was walking with us. He spent the whole time telling us all about the coyotes that roamed the area and how they might jump out of the trees at any time. Once we were sufficiently troubled, he took off running as fast as he could through the nearby field and into the trees. It was dusk and the sky was getting a bit dark and we were scared to death! I am pretty sure we both tried to follow him through the field, but he was too fast and too used to running through rough terrain, so we couldn’t even remotely keep up. He got such a kick out of watching us walk all the way back to the house, scouring the road, trees and fields for coyotes, clinging to each other for protection.
I don’t know really how my sister felt about being called a city priss but I know that I hated it. I considered myself a tomboy and spent most of my days back home playing sports with the guys during recess at school and priding myself in being tough. Bryon Bacon, who was the youngest of the Bacon kids and the closest to my age, loved to tease me in this manner. He knew that it got my goat and so that encouraged him to do it all that much more. One summer day, I had heard the city priss jab one too many times. I told Bryon that he better shut his mouth or I would kick his butt. He didn’t believe that any girl from Wichita, especially one that was younger than him, could do anything so he challenged me to a fight. Of course, we couldn’t let grandma know that we were fighting so we went down to the grove (a grove of trees that were behind the house) and commenced to fighting. I believe Heather and Sherry were there to watch. All I remember of the fight was that we both weren’t going to give up easily and that it seemed to go on for quite a while. Bryon claims that I whooped his tail. I don’t necessarily remember feeling like I whopped him, but I do know that I never heard him call me a city priss after that day.