A Trip Back Home

Every once in a while I get a "hankering" to go back home, just to enjoy that exciting feeling you get when you're back home one more time!  You know that place I'm talking about- where your heart will always have special feelings; where memories of your Mom and Dad still hang heavy in the places where they stood, walked and worked; where Daddy plowed straight rows with the old Moline and later with the Oliver, the only new tractor he ever owned; where Mama put up peas and corn and killed and dressed chickens so we could survive the winter months; where your family developed love and respect for each other and formed their life's value system; where your grand parents taught you how to play 42 and spoiled you with cookies and tuna fish sandwiches; where you learned to shoot safely and hunt and chased the elusive blue and bobwhite quail through the fields, pastures and shelter belts; and school mates and friends shared laughs and tears and still remain friends to this day!

Going home floods your thoughts with so many memories and transports you back to so many wonderful places but at the same time reminds you of how quickly life passes.  In one way, everything stays the same and yet, everything has changed.  The old home place looks nothing like it did when I was growing up, and in fact, the old house is now gone.  Only the shell of the old barn remains.  But, take time and snoop around in the weeds and ashes and you can find Mom's old purple iris plants still trying to cling to life during another Knox Prairie drought!  And, just across the road, where once grew cotton and watermelons, stand huge wind turbines, the latest crop being planted in an effort to keep the farm viable.

Not much remains of the Munday I grew up in years ago.  Everything has changed, even me.  But, even so, the memories remain today as vivid as they were those many days ago, and for that I am so thankful!  After all, the good old days weren't all good, but our mind has a way of filtering out the bad and keeping the good ones.  And, I think I like it that way.

My brother in law died a year ago and is buried in the little cemetery in Rhineland.

I like the gravestone and it's message.  I hope the same can be said of us.

St. Joseph's Catholic Church has been a landmark to the tiny community of Rhineland

for many years.  It is located just across the street from my sister's house.

The inside of the church is really quite unexpected for this little rural farming 

community.  Rhineland, as you might expect, is a predominantly German area and 

is named for the homeland's famous Rhine River.

Although the red brick building is now gone, this marker commemorates the

old Sunset School District where so many of my relatives attended school, and

where I was bused to my junior high classes from Munday.  We also lived about

a mile north of this site on the old Roscoe Partridge farm for a while.

The markers, if you zoom in on them, tells about the history of the school.  The only

bricks remaining from the school are in this marker!

We visited the Gillispie Baptist Church cemetery where Mom and Dad are buried,

along with my grand parents and many other relatives on both sides of the family.  As you

can see, it can be a harsh environment, even in death.

Mama and Papa Reddell are buried here.  They were members at this little country

church for as long as I can remember.  Mama's blood flows through my veins, thanks to

blood she donated to me for a transfusion when I was a wee lad!

This stone has no connection to family, other than Lester liked the words at the bottom!

This field is in front of the old home place,  I can remember all kinds of crops growing

here like cotton, milo, watermelons, and onions.  I remember changing  the irrigation 

water here when they were the old sprinklers that were moved by hand!

Here is the latest crop being "farmed" on the rolling plains!  I guess a man

has to do what a man has to do.

I'd have to watch where I was going if I plowed this field today.

This sad old thing is the huge Stuart pecan tree just east of where the house stood.  The fire

took it's toll on the house, trees and my memories!  Daddy would go out and pick up pecans 

in his house shoes, feeling along through the fallen leaves with his feet, and eventually 

rubbing a hole in the bottom of the shoe.  Nothing that a little duct tape couldn't fix!

Looking west across the prairie.  Lots of memories went up in smoke that day!

Some things are new.  This shop in Munday had a variety of gift items,

flower arrangements and even furniture.

My sister, the mother of five good boys and a well respected member of the community.

I'm very close to Dayle Anita.

There once were cotton gins in every community.  I can remember when there were

3 or 4 just in Munday.  This is one of the last in the county at Rhineland.

Munday, home of the Moguls and me!

The big dip!  It's really just a huge water drainage ditch that was built to keep

the town from flooding like it did many year ago during what everyone refers to

as the "big flood", when over 13 inches of rain fell in one night!

The dip serves as thrill maker for my grand children.  Now every time we 

go home, we have to "sail" through the big dip!  "Go faster, Papaw!"