Memories Along The Big Blue

Yesterday my husband and I hooked the old red stock trailor to the pickup and headed up home to get the young bull we bought from an old school friend of mine.

When we crossed over the Big Blue river bridge I asked,  "Oh honey....could we take the old river road? It is our old school bus route from years ago."

"Where do we turn?"

"Right here."

Oh the memories came flying back as we wound this way and that following that Big Blue river. As we went around a corner, there setting off in the weeds and trees was a little farmstead of yesteryear. It's little farm house sets there with a window or two missing and its porch hanging lopsided. Out back, a small corral stood, its wood fence all weathered, some boards just held up at one end by a nail or two. Brown, dried up kosha weed mixed with a tree or two fills the lots. A big tree branch lays across a little two path lane leading into the yard full of over grown grass.

Was that the home of one of my bus buddies? Did a little boy or girl stand at the end of that old overgrown lane, their little brown dog standing there at their side, his tail wagging. In their arms they hold their new school supplies, standing first on one foot then the other as the old yellow school bus rounds the corner, turns on its red flashers, and comes to a stop.

As we wound our way down that gravel road my mind goes back to that crisp early fall morning when my two sisters and I stood at the end of our drive way waiting for that yellow school bus to come down the road. It was our first day of school. We each carried a square bookbag of sorts. On its cover was a map of the United States. Our new school supplies were zipped tight inside. Our hair was all combed up in two braids that hung loose over our shoulders.

I remember the "smells" of that old yellow school bus, as we took our seats there among so many faces. The little people sat there in those big seats, all quiet, looking around with eyes as big as saucers. The older kids would holler "Come sit by me" as they pat the seat beside them.

I remember that feeling in the pit of my stomach. Something about that first day of school would make it kind of "squirmy." It was caused from my wondering about my new teacher, or the anxiety of seeing all my friends once again. I was telling my "fun free" summer days good bye.

One afternoon we were making our usual stops along the river road, when out of no where we heard the loud sound of a single engine plane. It flew over the road and over the trees. Then it circled back over again. It went over and back, over and back.

"Whats going on?" someone hollered from the back.

"They had someone break out of the penitentiary in Lincoln. Their looking for them," Mr. Anderson answered as he looked into his mirror.

"Oh" someone says and all gets quiet as eyes look this way and that.

When we got home, we jumped off the bus, and ran through the old yard gate and came to a stop. There was dad. He had the porch door off and laying across a couple sawhorses.

"Dad," we said all excited. "You HAVE to get that door on right now!"

"What's the hurry?" he said screwing on a hinge.

"Cause there is someone loose from the penitentiary in Lincoln. They think they are around here! There is a airplane flying around. We saw it. Mr Anderson told us. We're not kidding! Really!" we tell him, our eyes as big as saucers.

Dad just looked at us and kept on working, as if he didn't even hear us.

"Mom!" we hollered hurrying into the kitchen where a snack waited for us. Once again the "news" poured out of our mouth.

"Hmmm," mom says looking out of the little window over the cook stove. We could tell that our "news" had affected her! "Well, you girls eat your snack and we'll see."

It wasn't long until a sheriff car pulled slowly into our drive. That got Dad's attention! That got all of our attention! The sheriff slowly gets out of the car and walks up to Dad, there working on the door. They talk for a few minutes and then the sheriff turns and ambles back to the car, and drives back out the drive way.

"What did he say dad?" we all asked at once.

"He said for me to get this door done and back on. I'll get the chores done and then we better get in and lock the doors. He said someone is loose and they feel he's around here somewhere. You kids and mother stay in the house."

When dad came in for the night and we were eating supper, he told us that we were to keep our outside yard light on all night. Do not answer the door and if we suspect anything, we are to call the sheriff's office.

I remember that night. The house seemed so terribly quiet. We all slept down stairs with the yard light shining through our living room window. I'm sure dad didn't get a whole lot of sleep that night. The dog barked once or twice but no knocking on the porch door.

The next day the sheriff found imprints in some straw in a old barn one mile south of us. They were pretty sure those guys slept there that night. That meant they passed by us sometime during the night!

So many memories flash through my thoughts of our school bus rides. Sometimes some stand out more vivid in your mind than others. I will tell you of two other ones that stayed in my memory as the years came and went.

In the fall of the year we have special company come to our house. They would spend a week with us. I remember how anxious we girls would be as we set at our desk in the school room. We couldn't wait for the last bell to ring so we can run to the bus and get home to see these special people.

One year a dear old man came to visit. His homeland was clear across the ocean. He was a white haired, gentle man, and we girls loved him. We thought of him as our grandpa.

I can still see in my mind's eye that old white haired man standing there in the grass at the end of our drive way. He stood there leaning on his cane, waiting for our bus to come. We would hurry off and he would hold his hand out to us and off we would walk, slowly making our way to the house, while he ask us all about our day at school.

When we got inside, our dear old friend would go to his bedroom, bring out a big box of chocolates and we would look and look at all those good candies there in the box. After giving it serious thought we would each take one, he would put on the lid, set down on the couch and tell us story after story about his home across the ocean. He would tell us stories about him coming across to our land.

It was early February, the year I was in seventh grade. It had snowed in the night and the sidewalks were slick. At the breakfast table we were warned to walk slow going to the bus this morning.

We took turns standing at the window watching for the bus to come down the road. "Here it comes" someone hollered and out the door we go. My sisters walked slow just like they were told but not me.

You see dad had made a frame of sorts, around the yard gate. He had set two poles on both sides and one across the top. I always thought it was fun to jump up and touch the top pole as I went out the gate.

So up I jump, touch the top pole and down. My legs went out from under me and I landed flat on my back. "Ouch that hurt. That hurt real bad."

My sisters came running back to me laying there on the sidewalk. Mom and dad came running out of the house. Oh great...did I hear the bus getting closer? Yeah it was coming right up to the gate! How embarrassing! All the kids would gawk at me! Out of no where Mr Anderson was bent over me.

"Can you sit up?" mom asked helping me gently to a sitting position.

"I'm a little bit light headed," I said, "and my leg hurts really bad."

"Well we need to get you in the house," dad said picking me up and carrying me in and putting me on the couch.

I layed there moaning as the school bus drove out the drive way and down the road. I hoped my sisters wouldn't worry.

"We need to take you to the doctor," mom said as she dialed the office.

Oh why did I jump!! Stupid and more stupid!

After taking x-rays and visiting with us, the doctor said "Well, young lady, it looks like you have broke your leg. This will call for a full cast and a couple months in bed."

A couple months? You must be kidding

It was a good lesson to me. Do what you are told and things like this wouldn't happen. But hey...it is fun to pull yourself up. What will I do in bed for a couple months? How will I go to school?

But I had jumped so hey I had to face the consequences....right?

That bed got pretty old. My friends would write me letters and send me cards. Mom would wait on me hand and foot. Poor lady, I'm sure she got worn down. After all I wasn't her only child.

I did benefit from all of this though. You see I couldn't keep up with my class so I had to take the seventh grade over the next year. Hey....just that many more friends. Really that class became very special to me. We made many good memories together.

So as my husband and I pull our stock trailer into mom's drive way with our new bull, my mind comes back to the present. Out walks mom all smiles and we go in and sit there at that old kitchen table to eat our lunch with her.

It is that same old kitchen table, but some things are missing. Dad's chair is empty. My sisters have gone and have children and grandchildren of their own. But one thing was still the same. Mom's smiling, gentle face.