.
Later in the spring Marie and I borrowed a car and drove down to her home so I could meet her parents. Marie’s father and mother lived south of Cheney in the rolling wheat hills of the Palouse near the town of Saint John. I had seen some of the same country when visiting Bill Ellis for Thanksgiving. That had been in the fall and the wheat had been harvested. This time of year the wheat was just starting to turn. It was a beautiful sight to see the rolling hills painted with green and touches of gold. Occasionally we passed a field with an entirely different crop. I asked Marie what type of plants they were. She explained that the farmers would plant peas and harvest them with the combine. When the plant foliage and roots were worked into the soil it replaced nitrogen. The peas grown were a lentil type that is used in split pea soup.
Marie’s folks were pleasant and I enjoyed the visit. Arnie had farmed his land near Saint John for years, starting back when they were using horses to pull the farm equipment. He had retired from wheat farming a few years before and now he rented his land, but he still raised grain hay for his small heard of cattle and a team of horses he kept to work around the home place. The house was a comfortable, one story dwelling that had been added on to create an additional bed room. A creek ran the full length of the property. The house and a cluster of sheds and a barn were located in the center. A large pasture lay on one side and the hay field and garden on the other. The wheat land Arnie was leasing to a neighbor lay on the opposite side of the creek and stretched up over the rolling hills. The highway to Saint John ran in front of the house. A huge silver leaf maple tree growing in the front yard shaded the house and most of the lawn stretching around the yard. Other mature trees around the barn yard and along the creek made the home setting pleasant.
Arnie’s parents came to this country as immigrants and farmed the land around Saint John. Arnie had no sisters and lost his only brother playing football while in high school. Virgil, a few years younger than Arnie injured his hip practicing football and died of infection. Arnie played football for Washington State University and was known to be a tough competitor. The team went to the Rose Bowel and Arnie told of getting knocked out when he made a tackle and couldn’t remember the rest of the game. Soon after, the brother had his fatal infection and to the coaches’ dismay, Arnie dropped out of his final year of football. The loss of his brother was hard for him to adjust to.
Marie’s mother Eva, had a brother, Vernie, farming close by. Several of Eva’s sisters had married and lived in the Spokane area where one’s husband had a pig ranch and raced walking horses as a hobby. He sounded like an interesting man. I met him later but never saw him race. He had a Tennessee walking horse that was trained to do fast walking without braking into a trot. The horse pulled a small two-wheeled cart and driver. This must have been an expensive hobby when costs for a cart, fancy harness, training and care for the horse were calculated.
Marie was an only child. She felt it would have been much easier for her if there had been other siblings. Her folks, especially her father, was very protective of her and it embarrassed her when she was out with friends. She felt they didn’t let her grow up like others and do the things they did. She always wanted a horse but her dad was afraid she’d get hurt. He didn’t want her riding in a car with someone else driving, so he took her to all of the functions which was an embarrassment as she grew older. I’m sure the accidental loss of Arnie’s brother had something to do with his protective behavior which was smothering Marie’s social growth.
As the year went by our discussions became much more serious. I had always known I wanted to marry and have a family. Graduating from college and starting a job seemed like the time to take this bold step. Marie was in favor of marriage but not sure of moving to Montana. Maybe she saw this as a chance to break away and make a life for herself. She had been going with a local fellow who came to see her at college once. I hadn’t heard about him so was surprised. She indicated it was over with him and before much more could be said he drown in a lake in the Saint John area. It was difficult for her losing a friend.
Finally we took the step. It was a beautiful spring day when Marie and I boarded the local bus that ran between Spokane and the college. The bus was popular with the commuter students. We were looking for a jewelry store to purchase the ring. I had borrowed money from mom with the promise to pay it back when I found a job. We found a ring that Marie liked and as I recall decided to make the engagement official before traveling back to campus. We found a quiet spot and I told her that I loved her as I slipped the ring on her finger. It seemed like such a simple act, but was the start of a life we shared for many years.
The next weeks were extremely hectic as I finished student teaching and attended to graduation details. I continued to search for a teaching job in Montana with several “maybes” and growing desperation in my mind. Marie and I decided we had better wait until fall to be married. That would give more time for me to firm up a job. I suggested we let her folks know of our plan, but she preferred to tell them when the time was right that summer. We decided to be married in the Cheney Lutheran Church in late summer. I would drive to Saint John and pick up all the belongings she chose to take. We would be married and take a honeymoon drive back to the job, where ever it happened to be. Of course more detail would be worked out with correspondence as things developed over the summer. Marie wanted to take several boxes of my things home with her, so I wouldn’t need to haul them back on the train. That sounded like an agreeable plan, but I wondered if that was her way of making sure I came back for her. She didn’t have to worry.
Finally the long anticipated graduation arrived. The ceremony had been set for the football field, using the bleachers for crowd seating. An eye was kept on the clouds. At the last minute if need be we would move into the gym. I’m sure Red would have preferred keeping people off the gym floor, even though canvas had been put down just in case it rained. Spring rains at Cheney were common and they could develop quickly. We lucked out. It was a perfect day.
Sitting there in my cap and gown caused me to remember my high school graduation and even back to the eight grade event. It was like the steps leading up a hill. The work between steps took time and significant effort. I wondered if there would be more steps. Only time would tell.
I leaned back in the seat as the rails clicked by. I was on my way home for the summer and then who knows what. It was overwhelming to think of all the detail that needed to be resolved. There was comfort in knowing that in my luggage was a certificate granting me a Bachelor of Arts in Education degree and a Provisional General Certificate to teach. Now all I needed was a job and that will be priority number one when I arrived home. I was eager to get started and I was looking forward to seeing the family, and hear all the latest news. Mary was going to have another baby, to be born in the coming December. I thought that spacing between children was the way I would like our family to develop. Marie was interested in having children, but we hadn’t talked about it in specifics yet. There would be many unknowns ahead of us in the coming years.
*Taken from "Which Road Should I Follow?, Volume 1, Growing up in the country", an autobiography by Edwin K. Hill
No comments:
Post a Comment