Au Revoir

Yes, of course. As soon as possible.

Bottom: in case you didn't know.

The Way They Were

As I mentioned, the old school at Immanuel Lutheran Church, out amidst the cornfields, has become a museum. The Kruses, my wife's family, have long been prominent in the area. They are well-represented among the displays.

If I am not mistaken, the top picture contains Mrs. C's first grade photo (top row, second from left). 

The middle image is of Mel Kruse, my wife's youngest brother, his wife Pat (they run the old family farm) and their four children. My guess is that this is about 25 years ago. All of the kids now have children of their own.

The bottom picture has the family's military veterans, my late father-in-law, Wilmer, a dashing young intelligence officer during World War II, and brothers-in-law Ron and Jim, probably in the 70s. The label is incorrect. Ron, lower left, was stationed in Germany while Jim was in Vietnam.                                                    

Baseball On The Prairie

From the old school at Immanuel Lutheran Church, where my wife studied, and is now a museum. Amateur baseball was a big deal out among the farms. Note the sign in the middle, promoting a game against a Kansas City team from the old Negro Leagues (whose museum is in Kansas City). American baseball was integrated in 1947 when the Brooklyn Dodgers signed the brilliant Jackie Robinson.                            

Seven-Toed Farm Monster

This behemoth sits out back on the old family farm, now run by borther-in-law Mel and his wife, Pat. I think these cost the better part of a zillion dollars and do something mysterious, possibly involving the harvest of corn. Their automation is so advanced that once you have run it around the perimeter of a field, you can press a button and the machine will, on its own, finish the rest precisely without human intervention. And some people want to know where their food comes from. Probably one of these.

Below, niece Tricia's husband Steve goes bombing around on one of several ATVs on the property. They have some purpose for work but mostly they are used for, well, just bombing around.          

                   

Patriot Games

Breathes there the man with soul so dead
Who never to himself hath said,
This is my own, my native land!

Sir Walter Scott

Patriotism is the last refuge of the scoundrel.

Samuel Johnson

 

This van was parked across the road from our motel in Marysville, Kansas, for the length of our stay. Never saw anyone in or around it. It reflects a common theme in some parts of American society. There are those who believe that our Declaration of Independence and Constitution were given to us by God and that military veterans of all kinds (ours, anyway) should be venerated. I'm not much into tear-shedding eagles but I'll let you judge for yourself.

Heartland Monuments

Eye-poppers on the prairie.

My wife's biannual family reunion is held in the parish hall of Immanuel Lutheran Church, way out in the soy and corn fields. Its mailing address is Bremen, Kansas, the town of 50 I alluded to yesterday, but that has to be six or eight miles away. My wife and her siblings went to the parish school, now closed due to dwindling population. There is a museum inside now, more about which soon. The white siding just pops against the boundless summer sky.

The next big town to the north is Beatrice, Nebraska (population 12,400!). The old railway station has been beautifully restored and now used as the county historical museum. A small model of the Statue of Liberty stands in front. There is very little information about it online. It seems to have turned up about 1970 and was made by a sculptor from Los Angeles. Doesn't have quite the same patina as the original.                   

Bill's Country Theme Park

My brother-in-law, Bill, is a smart, creative guy. He and Mrs. C's sister, Dorothy (yes, Dorothy from Kansas) live on 15 hilly acres on the western outskirts of metro Kansas City. Bill grew up in the Missouri Ozarks and later worked a long career as a lineman for Kansas City Power and Light. Now that he's retired, he has an unending project creating what you might call a theme park with water features around the property. Every time I visit it's bigger and more complex.

These scenes refer to ET, Jaws, the song Dead Man's Curve, Gilligan's Island (featuring a swim suit my 95 year old mother in law is said to have worn in 1938), plus a random tiger perched in a tree, a hillbilly in a traditional bathtub and, I dunno, a fluid piano.

So here I am writing this, way out in the rolling farmland of Marshall County Kansas, 6 miles from a town of 50 and 17 miles from a town of 4,000, on the patio of of my wife's old family farmhouse. The only sounds are crickets and conversation. A half moon is rising in the hazy southwestern sky. And, thanks to WiFi, I'm connected to the world. Life is good tonight.