Too Long in the Wind

Reunion photos: Does anyone have photos from the recent school reunion or the reunion of the Class of 1969? We'd all like to see them. (Mail them)

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Hi, y'all. High water

High water from Ash Creek crosses the road southwest of Pawnee Rock. Jim Dye made this photo in mid-June.

[June 29]   I'm back. It's good to see that you're all still here.

Jim Dye sent some high-water photos after the big rain almost two weeks ago (just as my vacation began), and I am pleased to present them today on the homepage and here. I think they evoke summer in a good way -- except for the wheat that was damaged by rain or hail.

When you look at the shots, don't you feel the humidity and smell the mud? And aren't you tempted to park your toes at the water's edge and watch to see whether the little flood is rising or falling?

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See you soon

[June 17]   I'm pretty good about filing a report every day, but each year I have to take a little time off. Now is that time.

While I'm on vacation, I hope you'll read some of the older items in Too Long in the Wind and glance over the hundreds of Pawnee Rock photos in the Gallery. Maybe they'll stir up a few memories -- and I hope you'll pass the better memories along.

You all take care, and I'll be back with you in a week or so.

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The Morris chinchillas

Gray chinchilla, from wikipedia.org. Chinchillas are native to South America, but quite a few lived in Pawnee Rock.

[June 17]   I asked Butch Morris, now of Lenexa, whether his family was the one that raised chinchillas in a boxcar in the back yard. He wrote:

That thought of yours about the boxcar flooded my memories. Geez, that's been a while ago. I don't remember exactly how old I was . . . maybe early teens. But, Dad [Verne] got the idea from someone at his work to raise these things, sell them and make a fortune.

What prompted him to buy that boxcar, I have no idea. But let me tell you, guy, I loved going out there in the wintertime. In the first place, a boxcar is put together so well that no air gets in or outta that thing. Dad put a gas stove in there and it was so warm out there in the winter. But, those little buggers were mean. They had the softest fur you'd ever wanna feel, hence the reason they cost so much. But they were mean-tempered and would bite the crap outta ya.

And you couldn't leave marks on them, or the fur was no good. When they became of age, to get them outta their fur, you boxed them up and sent them to someplace to be electrocuted. That's the only way they could be killed without ruining the fur. Thank goodness we didn't have to do that. Is the boxcar still there?

The chinchilla boxcar was still in the back yard of this home on Santa Fe Avenue in 2005, now a weatherbeaten brown-gray and visible behind the tree on the right.

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Welcome, Michael Vondracek

[June 16]   Michael Vondracek, whose family in Pawnee Rock goes back many years, has joined the Friends of Pawnee Rock. He lives on Houck Street, across from his mom's dad, Bob Manka.

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Rain in the wind

[June 16]   If you ever felt as if the temperature fell off a cliff when a thunderstorm came through on a hot day, check out these weather data from 6:15 p.m. to 7:15 p.m. Monday.

At 6:15 (at the Great Bend airport; Pawnee Rock got the storm a few minutes earlier), the temperature was 82 degrees. At 6:35, it was 75 degrees, and at 6:55, it was 66 degrees.

The usual evening zephyr kicked up during the storm to a steady wind of 27 mph, with gusts of 43 mph. The airport recorded 23 hundredths of rain.

And then another storm came through just before midnight, lasting three hours into this morning and dropping about 2.5 inches of rain.

That's not good for the wheat.

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Band members identified

[June 15]   Butch Morris wrote to identify some of the band members in the photo from 1958-59 (Gallery page 61):

"First row is me (Butch), Norma Clawson, Joyce Clason, Rita Oetken, blank, Tim Sawatsky, Stanley Ritchie, Steve Schmidt, Bill German, I think, and the last 3 I draw a blank. That's all the ones that graduated with me. I can identify some of the others, but they were all older."

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Fluttering in the breeze

[June 14]   I've often thought that Kansas -- far from the noted battlefields of the Revolutionary, 1812, and Civil wars -- was nevertheless the perfect place to fly the Stars and Stripes.

And in that perfect state, there was nowhere better than atop Pawnee Rock.

We had the steady wind, the blue sky, and transcontinental history at our feet. Each of our town's sons and daughters has stood on the Rock -- at least, back when there was a flag atop the Rock -- and listened to the flag snap and flutter. And that's the lasting image against which we compare all other waving flags.

It was easy for me as a boy to imagine the flag over Fort McHenry, especially when the bottle rockets were flying.

When I was a kid, it was a rare thing for an individual family to fly a flag at their home. On Flag Day, that situation allowed us to focus our attention on Pawnee Rock's three flags: at the Rock, at the school, and at the post office. It was a unifying feature of our little town.

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Welcome, Richard Batchman

[June 13]   One of my oldest friends, Richard Batchman, has joined Friends of Pawnee Rock. He's the son of Darrell and Audrey Batchman, who had a home on Houck Street between the Mennonite parsonage and the Meads' big house.

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Mystery women

[June 13]   Dean Blackwell of Scott City wrote yesterday to ask about the women in the photo of the two women on Pawnee Rock.

"Can you tell me their names or who sent you the picture? One looks like my Dad's sister."

I wish I knew who the women were. It's an old photo my Dad once had, and there is no identification. Perhaps they're my family, but they could just as easily be Sweeneys, for example, or Blackwells.

That's the trouble with photos. They may tell a thousand words, but it helps if we write down a few of those words on the back of the print. Unless you record the information, don't expect your kids and grandkids to know who's in the picture -- and they will want to know.

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State Theater closer to projector

[June 12]   Gary Trotnic writes with an update of the State Theater's efforts to get a digital projector. If you remember the theater fondly, perhaps you could help with a small gift.

Here is Gary's note:

The theater has raised $56,000 towards the new digital projector. They have one on order hoping to get it at the end of July. They still need $24,000. They are accepting donations of any size. If any of your followerers would like to donate, they can send it to:

Charles Sherman
Box 392
Larned, KS 67550

Make the check to State Theater. Any help would be appreciated.

Gary

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Welcome Butch Morris

[June 12]   Mike (Butch) Morris has joined Friends of Pawnee Rock. Butch has long roots in Pawnee Rock -- he's the son of Verne and Lillian Morris and the grandson of Johnny and Stella Morris.

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The last days of St. Joseph

[June 10]   I was saddened to see that the board of St. Joseph Memorial Hospital in Larned has decided to close the building at the end of September. (Story in the Great Bend Tribune.) Like many of you, I was born there, and it's disappointing to see another piece of my life disappear. Even though I have been in the building only once in the past 35 years, the hospital has been an important of my life.

Besides my birth, I spent a few days there in eighth grade when I was entertaining a mysterious headache. My roommate was a Larned ninth-grade football player who had a lot of friends. My only visitors were my parents, and I shamefully mistreated them in an effort to appear more grown up as I sat there in my blue and green flannel pajamas held in place with an elastic waistband.

A few years ago while I was on vacation, one of my sons wanted a crucifix, so I stopped in at St. Joseph's gift shop and bought one. I'm glad that Sam has a little piece of my hospital.

St. Joseph's building is a stalwart plains structure -- rectangular and made of blond bricks. It has anchored western Larned on Carroll for a long time. It's one of the few places I know for sure has been there all my life.

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Pawnee Rock boy burned

[June 10]   A Pawnee Rock boy, 2-year-old Kristopher Frost, has been hospitalized after being burned by an accidental fire in a neighbor's basement. He was in good condition, a hospital spokesman told reporter Susan Thacker of the Great Bend Tribune. (Story)

We wish all the best and a speedy recovery to Kristopher and his family.

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The big round sun

[June 9]   In grade school, I couldn't figure out how our sunflowers -- the kind that grows in the ditches and fencelines -- could produce those black-hulled seeds that we stuffed into our mouths, cracked with our teeth and tongue, and spat out until the salt made our gums hurt. And then one year a farmer planted the big variety. Our parents drove us by the field slowly, and it all made sense.

I think our family grew big sunflowers in the garden once or twice. I don't know that we ever did anything with the seeds; it may have been so much of a triumph to bring forth an eight-foot plant that our parents didn't feel the need to learn how to process the seeds so they tasted like the ones that came in cellophane bags.

The big fields of sunflowers are nice counterpart to staid exapnses of wheat, corn, and soybeans. Even if the sunflowers weren't used for snacks and oil, their existence would be justified by their exuberance.

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Wheels on the road

A cyclist zips along during the 2000 Biking Across Kansas.

[June 8]   The rolling herd known as Biking Across Kansas makes its way today from Jetmore through Larned and ventures on to St. John.

Although Pawnee Rock is not on the route, there are always a few outriders who have the strength and curiosity to check out landmarks that are just off the route. Don't be surrised if some folks wearing colorful clothes show up on top of the state park.

Find out more about Biking Across Kansas -- and next year you might join the crowd.

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North into the sun

[June 6]   One of the great things about living above 60 degrees latitude is the brief midsummer night. It's so bright at 2 a.m. this time of year that I can read a newspaper outdoors and see the colors of the trees and houses. Three hundred miles north of here, there's no twilight -- even though the sun sets it doesn't go far enough below the horizon that the sky darkens appreciably.

I'm taking a couple of days off to drive into that sunshine. I hope you all have a good weekend, and I'll see you again on Monday.

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Seventh-graders identified

[June 5]   Three contemporaries have identified the seventh-graders whose class picture appeared on yesterday's homepage.

One of the writers, Jeanette Ater Corbett, knows these kids because her brother, Allen, is among them. Another correspondent, Rick Clawson, writes that he "can't believe I'd remember these names of people two years younger than me and 35 years later!" The third writer says: "This is my class :) :) ."

Big thanks to all three. (A larger version of the photo is in the Gallery.)

First row, left to right: Bob Stone, Mr. Aylward, Bennie Brown (deceased), Randy Pickerton, Sherri (Schmidt) Johnson.

Second row: Diane (Levingston) Trimmer, Russell Countryman, Donna Purdy, Clayton Carris, Lori Dirks.

Third row: Alan Ater, Susan (Manka) Vondracek, Eddie Crist, Carl Claphan, Todd Schmidt.

Fourth row: Helene (Kasselman) Greenwood, David Schneider, Kelly Cozby, Jim Bowman, George Crone (deceased).

Fifth row: Rolla Horton, DeWayne Chism.

Sixth row: Sonja (Wilson) Julian, Michele (Marbut) Edwards, Mark Ukens.

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A handful of old glory

Serving platters at P. Lee's antique store in Pawnee Rock, 2006.

[June 4]   When I was a kid, I liked antique stores. There were drawers and cans of stuff made of steel or ceramic or bone -- this was before anything plastic was old enough to be in such a store -- and it begged to be touched. The items often were things I had seen in the silverfish-nibbled catalogs and books that I found in my uncles' bedrooms or that my mom's parents or aunt gave me. Knifes. Pens. Hoof trimmers. Marbles. Radios. Teapots. Irons made of iron.

Then, like any growing young bull, I found it dangerous to be in a china shop. I might knock something over, or somebody might see me. I was a teenager.

But once I discovered that antique shops were a great place to find books, I put my shopping shoes back on.

These books have real cloth covers and the pages have a toothy feel, and they won't be found in stores that don't smell like potpourri. The printing is less than perfect and sometimes the pages are waterstained, but I find a connection to readers who held the books 40 years earlier.

I confess that I don't read all the old books I acquire. The writing often is hackneyed, and odd punctuation drives me up a wall. But the books are my friends. And so are the gorgeous serving platters and the fruit bowls. And the knives and pens and teapots.

These simple objects were used before, probably by someone now long buried, and that bestows timelessness and honor. And I, the caretaker for another generation, am happy enough just to be associated with them and to find joy in their design and purpose.

Hardcover books -- civics texts along with real and fanciful adventures -- at Santa Fe Mercantile, 2006. The store burned in December 2008.

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Students tour Pawnee Rock

[June 3]   A busload of schoolkids are touring the Santa Fe Trail, hitting such notable spots as Council Grove, Ralph's Ruts, Wagon Bed Springs, and -- of course -- Pawnee Rock. They each raised $675 to cover their share of the costs, writes Amy Bickel in the Hutch News.

A good share of the story is set in Pawnee Rock, and there's a photo as well. Part of the article is about a boy named Wyatt, named for Wyatt Earp, who certainly passed by the Rock during his Dodge City days.

Segue: Falling between the previous item and the next item must come this mention of a dreamy photo of the terraced wheat field west of the Rock. My brother-in-law, Dave Leiker, made it in late May when he was in town with Cheryl for her class reunion.

Class of '77 reunion: Cheryl Unruh wrote about the Class of '77 reunion in her weekly column in the Emporia Gazette, and she put an illustrated version of it on her site, FlyoverPeople.net.

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Roger Hanhardt, a new friend

[June 2]   Roger Hanhardt, a member of Pawnee Rock's Class of 1964, is the fellow who supplied us with those superb photos of the summer reunion last year. You might also be one of the foresighted citizens who bought a copy of the history book he compiled of our hometown's school.

Roger, a barber who lives in Hays, now is listed in Friends of Pawnee Rock.

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The cost of living in the past

[June 1]   A few years after Pawnee Rock was founded, the Tribune ran a list of what was selling in Great Bend, which is where a lot of Pawnee Rock-area residents might have gone on their Saturday shopping trips. This list, which Elgie Unruh collected, appears to be a reprint from the Tribune.

Cheese went for 15 cents a pound. Salt for $3.25 a barrel -- no doubt steep but necessary if you're going to preserve that hog you want to cut up in the fall. To go with that ham, how about some dried fruit for your Thanksgiving pies?

Canned food was still something of an experiment in safe dining in those days, and the cans packed a lot of lead. No matter how frugal or self-reliant our foreparents were, however, I suppose that once in a while they just had to have a tin of peaches if their own trees weren't producing yet.

Or mackerel -- presumably dried -- for 10 cents. Imagine the journey the mackerel made by wooden boat from the fishing grounds to the on-shore packing plant, then by slow rail to Chicago and on to Kansas City and finally to a store shelf in Great Bend.

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