What triggers the memory?

 Yesterday, on the first day of the "Scott Family Reunion of 2011", I spent time with my sister Kaye and nephew Scott and wife, Lisa all here from Sarasota, Florida.  They had arrived in the "wee hours" of the morning and after a 5-hour sleep, we decided to go and see several places that have special meaning to our family.


I have to say, we packed a whole lot of stuff into a very short span of time.  We traveled to Halstead to visit the graves of our parents, brother Mike, sister Janice, and niece Kimberly.  Scott learned about his Quaker heritage as we drove out to the Fairview Quaker Cemetery just north of Halstead.  He took a moment to study the monument erected to our great-great grandmother, Rebecca Burch.  The marker there is to honor her as the last living pensioner of a Revolutionary War Veteran in the United States.  


We saw the farm where all of us lived in the Sandhills of Harvey County as well as the "big house" in town.  Kaye was excited to see the little country school house she attended as well as Burrton High School where she graduated from in 1959.  And I must say that as much as we found how things had changed there were still many things that seemed familiar and much the same.

Something very interesting happened to me today as we were traveling down "memory lane."  I tried to take photos of all the different places that we went, and three of those photos in particular stirred up old memories that I had not thought of for such a very long time.  If it's ok with you, I'd like to tell you about them.  So here goes.....


The photo above was taken while we were visiting our old home in the Sandhills of Harvey County. The minute we drove up, my attention immediately went to the little tiny cinder block house that still stood after all the years of its existence. 


 When the Scott family lived there, we always referred to this as the "milk house" because after our herd of Holstein cattle was milked, it was always stored in a cooler there until the milk man from the Tip Top Dairy in  Moundridge came to haul it off to town. 


 The little cinder block building had also been a "playhouse" for my younger sister, Cindy and I.  It seemed especially nice on hot summer days in July to be able to walk inside and immediately feel its coolness.  I can still hear the sound of the windmill that stood adjacent to it.


Perhaps the "weirdest" thing I can remember about the milk house was that it became a refuge, a very "safe haven" for Cindy and I when our dad and uncles performed the annual rite of butchering  a couple of hogs for the family's use.  We little kids hated butchering time and I can still see the sight of a big fat hog hanging upside down in the tree that was right next to the garage!


  I have vivid memories of quickly hiding in that little house with my fingers pushed tightly into my ears so I wouldn't hear the sound of the pig squealing. Yeah, yeah, yeah I know....I wasn't a very tough little farm girl!  LOL-After that part was over, it was actually kind of fun to watch them dress out the pig.  


Hey, I ALMOST forgot the "extra special" bonus from hog butchering time.....with all the extra lard that was now available for use in mom's kitchen, our family enjoyed the treat of home made donuts for several weeks afterwards.  Now THAT was good eating!  :) Lovers of "Daylight Donuts" or "Krispy Kremes"-eat your hearts out.  Lois Scott's donuts were a thousand times better!

On the way back home to Hutchinson, we stopped for a moment in the small town of Burrton, KS to see the elementary and high schools there.  All of the Scott kids began their educational experience there with my three oldest siblings, Kaye, Janice and Mike graduating from there.  The rest of us, Sherry, Dick, Cindy and I went on to graduate from Haven after our folks moved there in 1964.  


The grade school and high school at Burrton have changed quite a bit since we last attended there, now over 40 years ago.  As we stopped and took a few final photos, I found a spot that triggered a memory I hadn't thought of since 1963.  Take a look at the photos below, please.

I believe that as long as I live, I will never forget what happened to me as I walked through the front door (first picture above) and sat down in the classroom shown in the picture directly above.  


That Friday in 1963 was actually a pretty decent kind of day, with Indian summer type of weather.  It was recess-time and all of the kids attending school at Burrton were out on the playground, enjoying what all of us had come to know as a "dang good life."  


We were yelling and having a great time.  I'm sure that I must have been playing on the swings with my good friends, Shirley and Kathy.  Who knows, maybe we were hoping that the cute little boys in our class would come over and chase us around the playground.  Hey, we were 9 years old--you could do things like that and get by with it!  :)


Shortly before 1:00,  we noticed our teacher, Mrs. Randall, standing outside the school and she whistled us to get to the door.  I recall that whistle's sound vividly, even today so many decades later.  By the time all 30+ kids made it to the door, we could tell that she had been crying and with a soft and whispered voice she told us that we all had to go into the building very quickly and quietly, and get straight to our desks.  Man, what had happened?


When we got inside our room, we were told to put our heads down on our desks and wait for an announcement.  In no time at all, the voice of our principal, Mr. Voth, came over the loud speaker to inform us that President John F. Kennedy had just been assassinated and that we were all being sent home immediately!  


I can remember kids asking Mrs. Randall, "what does that mean, assassinated?" and with tears rolling down her cheek she said that he was dead.  Our class was stunned as was every other person in that school house, in the town, and in the nation. 


The events of that Friday, November 22, 1963 left an everlasting mark on me and the sight of that entryway door and that 3rd grade classroom from the land of "long ago and far, far away" triggered the saddest of feelings for just a moment yesterday.  


That somber Friday from almost 48 years ago now surely marked the end of the innocence for my generation of Americans.  Thinking back to everything that has happened in the years that have followed since, it's probably a good thing that we do NOT know what lies in our futures.  Many of us wouldn't have the courage or the faith needed to go on this life, if we DID know.


No matter if they would be bad or good ones, I am most grateful for the blessing of memories.  Recollections just like the ones I experienced yesterday help me to remember my upbringing in a world in which not everything that happened was good and I guess that's why they refer to this passage of time as LIFE.


Have a great day Facebook friends and family!  I'm heading out the door to make even MORE memories!  :)  I hope you do the same......................