Off to Grandpa and Grandmas homes Off to Grandpa and Grandmas homes
The trip between Eureka and Kimball was generally uneventful. The trip to Kimball took two hours, and on the way we would gauge our distance by its significant milestones. There was Gab's corner, then the railroad tracks by Bowdle, finally we would head east through Roscoe and onto Ipswich. Ipswich had a golf course with sand "greens" plus an imposing rock sign that announced the city's name. One of the highlights was driving under this sign, but years later this imposing rock antiquity was moved to the local park. We knew that the trip between Ipswich and Miller would be long stretch of rolling grasslands, with this monotony broken only by a sprinkling of farms and infrequent road signs. By the time we reached Miller, we were relieved to be back in civilization. Sometime we would stop at the drive-inn in Miller for ice cream cones. Other times we would keep on driving. As we passed through Gann Valley, we always heard the same old stories such as "The Gann Valley giant lived here and has been preserved in a large pickle jar" or "I played basketball here, and in the middle of the court were two poles which the Gann Valley players used to their advantage." We knew that the next town would be Kimball, but Gann Valley seemed like the most desolate place on the planet.
The trip to Kimball always went the same way - dad did the driving and mom slept most of the way down. It was not until we could see the Kimball water tower that we got excited, but it was not the water that created the exhilaration. Anyone who ever drank Kimball water knows that its taste was far from electrifying. The water in Kimball was extremely bad and smelled worse than it tasted. We learned early to avoid drinking this putrid liquid, and if forced to drink the water we'd down it quickly. It was regarded as the worst tasting water in South Dakota, and right behind Kimball in undrinkable water was Eureka, which had the reputation of being the second worst tasting water in the state.
When the car door opened in front of the Ryan home, we would dart out of the car and run directly into the house to announce our arrival. "We're here, we're here", we'd exclaim! And then like a tidal wave the rest of the Smith children would race in to greet grandpa and grandma. They were always eager to see us come...but they were also happy to see us leave.
Once inside we would find a place on the dark single patterned couch next to grandma Ryan. As grandma would talk we would intermittently glance through the lace covered window to keep "an eye out" for the MsKimmons or other neighborhood kids. In the small town, word gets out fast that the Smiths have arrived. As grandma and mom talked, we begin our usual ritual of examining the well worn carpet and the odd collection of furniture that filled the living room. Nothing has changed since the last time we were here - yep, the coal furnace is still there...the two radios "taller than us" had not been moved...there was the dining room buffet with its broken leg...the tapestry on the wall...the rocking chairs...yes, they were all accounted for. We asked grandma if we could go out and play, which was an excuse to knock on the MsKimmons door to see if Paul and Dale could come out and play. Sometimes we'd go over to the deaf girl's house, but only in desperation. The deaf girl banged me over the head with her shovel because "I looked at her", and ever since I tried to avoid her and her sandbox as much as I could. In any event, the sandbox provided us life-long teachings, such as the time her older brothers taught us how to utter "dehucta, dehucta...". This was a sound I never mastered until Junior High school.
After an afternoon with the neighborhood kids, it was time to have dinner. After dinner, we would all gather around the black and white TV set. Grandpa and grandma liked variety shows, which was not something that maintained the Smith children's attention spans for very long. We would begin playing with our toys, or we would go in the back to read through old Look and Life magazines. "Hey Tim", I whispered. "Look at this!" Here in the pages of Life magazine was a multiple page spread on the new fad in Europe - the topless bathing suit. Never having seen a woman's breast before was quite exciting for two 10 year old boys. "Don't tell mom", said Tim. "She won't let us back here again." So while the variety show kept our parents preoccupied, Tim and I were examining and re-examining the topless bathing suit pictures. Eventually, it was bedtime, which in our house was 9:00 o'clock.
The room the boys slept in was called the "upstairs porch." It was cold during the winter, as there was single source of heat upstairs... and that was in mom and dad's bedroom. During the summer, it was a whole different experience. The bedroom was surrounded by windows and once the morning sun rose over the trees, we would awaken. Each morning we would lay in bed looking at the wainscoting above the windows and trace out the pattern that formed along the roof line. It had the shape of a car, and sometimes we'd make up stories about where that car would take us. There was only one time when I didn't feel safe, and that was in the mid 60's. A mass murder had occurred in Chicago, and the killer of three nurses was still on the loose. No one knew where he was, and there was speculation that he was heading west. As it turned out, the murderer, Richard Speck, never left Chicago; so we worried needlessly.
We also learned quickly enough, that if we ever got sick, Grandma Ryan's place was the best place to get sick. She had medicines in her house that we would only see on TV, like Pepto-Bismol. Grandma had other special remedies that we especially liked, but the most anticipated medicine was 7-UP. I'm not certain that it really helped, but it did create "a rumble" in our stomach which would cause burping. It was also in her house that I had Alka Seltzer for the first time. Before I drank this concoction, I had to verify that it truly did "plop, plop, fizz, fizz". Grandma also had home grown medicines, such as poultices, which really did work. Now that I think about it, I was sick quite often in her house...hmmm.
After getting dressed and eating our breakfast, it was time to visit the Smiths in Stickney. As we left the Ryan house, we would pass by St. Margaret's Catholic church and Cahill's Corner. The highway was bumper to bumper with cars making its way to the Black Hills, and every small town along the way was filled with tourists either heading to the Hills or making their way back home. Along the way dad would stop by the little white churches. We would look in its windows and run a few times around their exteriors. At some point Mom would yell out, "Its time to get back in the car." We would crowd back into the station wagon, and begin to look for other signs that we were getting close.
"Hey there's the white fence line".
"White Lake!"
""There's the Bad Boys School!"
And finally, a series of old run down buildings that pre-announced the entry into Stickney.
The Smith house in Stickney was across the street from the grain elevator. It was a small house that grandpa and grandma bought after grandpa retired from the post office. The Smith's shared this small home with the Foxes - Johnny, Mildred and their three boys Robbie, Tommy and Michael. Mildred came back to Stickney to take care of Grandpa after he had his stroke, and never left. As we rolled in to say hi to everyone, we would pass by the 12 inch iron terrier, who job it was to keep the door open. We would rush along the hallway and into the kitchen, and just as before, would cry out, "we're here...we're here." After a few moments we would seek out the Fox kids, especially Robbie and Tommie.
We liked coming to Stickney because we could play with our cousins, but it was Robbie that created some memorable moments . Robbie had a rebellious streak about him, and was one of the things we most admired. I remember him telling the barber, "my parents said it was OK for me to get a Mohawk haircut." At another time, he related his experience about seeing the new James Bond movie. He especially liked the opening credits because it had naked women rolling across the screen. "Don't tell my parents," he begged us. Tommie could also be rebellious, which he demonstrated one day by telling us, "my dad doesn't even know what the middle finger stands for." We responded that "everyone knew what the middle finger means". To prove his point, when his father showed up he ran out to greet him with a "hi dad" with both of his hands raised showing only the middle fingers. I guess he was right.
We would spend the rest of the day playing with them and their cool toys. The first part of the day was playing with the castle filled with knights, dragons, damsels in distress, weapons and other related items. After awhile we tired of the castle, so we moved outside to play. The house rested on a fairly decent sized lot, much of it we rarely walked through as it was an ancient garden overgrown with weeds. It was decided that today we would play Cowboys and Indians, but no one wanted to be an Indian. If you were an Indian you had to remove your shirt, and by default Barb was always a Cowboy. After dinner we decided to play "Starlight, Star bright", and our games never restricted where we could hide. Even the grain elevator property was inbounds. We played a long time until dad announced, "Its time to go." At that we crowded back into the station wagon, and after reaching Kimball made our way back to the boys room. We were tired, and the bed was a welcome sight.
Story by Terry Smith.