Just a few days ago I was giving a ride to my second oldest son to the store that is just a few miles from our house. It was late at night around 11:00p.m. He commented on how there were still cars on the road at that hour. I told him, it was not always like. Perhaps it was around the 90s when I began to notice more traffic on the roads, even late night traffic, than there was when I was growing up in the 70s. Or perhaps it was in the 90s I began to notice it more, I’m not sure which. However, out of the summer of 67 came …
Our First Family Road Trip
I couldn’t have been more than 5 years old when we received an invite to attend the Docktor Summer, 4th of July, Family Reunion. That year it was being held at Daddy’s sister’s home, in Ypsilanti, ND. Everyone was excited to go. Probably Daddy more excited than anyone else, as he hadn’t been home often since leaving the Dakota region in 1945.
I don’t remember the make and model of the family car, just that it was white. Us three kids, my sister, brother and I rode in the backseat. My mom with our little dog Tiny, in the passenger side of course and my daddy drove. We left early one morning around 4:00 a.m. and there were zero cars on the roads at that hour. I know there wasn’t any cars as my daddy had said, that is the best time to travel, so as to not face any delays, before anyone was up making their way to work.
Mama packed food for the trip. Sandwiches and chips I’m sure, but what I remember most of our dining pleasure were the boiled up eggs, for snack time. Most people when they travel though, even if they pack food for the trip they might still pull over at a rest stop area, that has picnic tables. But not us, oh no. Our dining was held in the backseat of the car. And God help you if you had to pee. It was just one of those things about my father and travels. He didn’t want to stop the car for any reason, as again, that just makes the trip, longer. We have since joked about it, but at the time, not that funny.
It was an eighteen hour trip from home to ND and come night time, you may have guessed it, we three were bedded down in the backseat of the car, with daddy driving straight through the night. Me being the smallest of the three, even for my age, I slept curled up on the floor board of the backseat area. I remember being given a pillow and a blanket. However, I am not sure how my sister and brother were able to sleep sharing the backseat, but I’m sure they figured it out.
Reaching Our Destination
When we arrived we went to Grandma and Grandpa Docktor’s home. I remember a Daisy colored two-story frame house. In front of the house about 50 -75 yards away were railroad tracks. We crossed the tracks when we drove up and you could see them from the front yard of the house. There was a water well with a hand pump to the right and behind that and the house fenced off acreage. (had I been older, I would have explored) And about 20 – 30 yards to the right of the property were my grandparent’s neighbors. I don’t remember them, but they remembered me, after we left.
We were settled in upstairs. Well I say, ‘we’ were, however, this is a five year old’s memory and like that of remembering a dream, I am a bit fuzzy around the corners of my mind’s eyesight. I remember going upstairs to the loft, where I see the suitcase with clothes in it; open on the floor next to the wall across from the doorway. I see our little dog Tiny, who has made a bed out of the suitcase to lay in and I also recall, even though it was July, night time; sleeping in the bed next to the suitcase on the floor and myself being covered in many blankets to stay warm at night when I slept. Whether or not there were other members of my family sleeping next to me in that bed, I don’t remember.
Memorable Moments at Grandma and Grandpa’s House
Outside of a house is where all the good stuff happens. Inside a house all there is are adults stilling around in chairs, drinking coffee, laughing and talking about stuff a little person doesn’t understand. So off outside I go.
I remember the train traveling the tracks with a caboose of passengers. It didn’t seem to move very fast. I also remember my sister and brother thinking it would be a fun thing to do to set firecrackers on the tracks and set them off at just about the time the caboose of the train arrived. Yep, all is fun and games until mama and daddy show up.
Me, I’m watching them from standing in the yard of the house. I was always off to the side and no one seemed to notice, which was good for me, as I could watch everything going on and not be a part of it. And I watched them two, snickering off to themselves and making their way down to the train tracks. I watched ’em as they made their way back up closer to the house, still snickering and then they turned to watch for the train. As soon as those firecrackers went off and were heard in the house, out come the all grown ups. Not to mention the surprised look of the passengers on the train.
The Gofer Tale
I don’t know if it was that day or the next but at one time I ventured closer to the neighbor’s yard. There I discovered a small hole in the ground. And in the small hole was a trap. And in that trap was a gofer, who had caught his leg in the trap, that had been set, just for him. That was not right.
I had to get that gofer out of that trap. I tried to gather up the courage within myself to set the gofer free. But I was afraid. I was afraid he might bite me, if I put my hands to close. I paced back and forth, back and forth, trying to figure this out. There had to be away. But every time I thought I had the courage to do it and I’d go over to the hole and look at the little gofer and as soon as my hands moved toward him, I’d stop, I couldn’t do it. After sometime trying to work this out, an idea hit me — daddy.
I ran in the house where the adults were all gathered around drinking their coffee laughing and talking and I grabbed daddy’s arm, crying. He was like, what’s wrong? I blubbered out between my tears about the sad little gofer caught in the mean trap, “please daddy, come help him”. He gave a little light laugh and then he called out to my brother and he said, “go help your sister with the gofer”.
So my brother followed me out to where the gofer was in the trap and after a moment, he did it. My brother is eight years older than I am. I guess there are things one might be afraid of at age fourteen, but being bit by a gofer isn’t one of them. I was so happy and so grateful, the little gofer was free again.
Over the years my little gofer saving day made a bit of notoriety as it was retold by the neighbors of my grandparents. As they said, if those kids ever show back up again, may as well take up the gofer traps as the little one will turn ’em all the gofers loose.
My best memory From the trip
I was at the kitchen table; I believe it was early morning and the only other person in the kitchen was Grandma Docktor. She was at the kitchen sink, washing dishes and above the sink I recall a window there. She had on a light sable blue dress and a cream colored apron.
In front of me on the kitchen table was a glass of milk. I’m sure she had poured it for me and had sat it there for me to drink. I asked her, “Grandma, may I have sugar in my milk?” She dried her hands with the kitchen towel that was leaning out of her apron pocket where she had it tucked. She took the sugar bowl from the cabinet’s counter that was adjacent to the refrigerator and placed it on the table with a spoon, she had fetched from the drawer. “Yes” … Ohhh, she’s the best Grandma ever! I put five teaspoons of sugar in that glass of milk and she didn’t stop me. It was great. That was good milk made better.
She died a few years later. That was the only time I ever got to meet her was on that trip. That one moment out of the many of the week, that has been forever etched into the memory of my mind. I don’t recall any other time of being around her, but that one. And if I ever want to see her, I just close my eyes and she’s there standing at the kitchen sink, that’s in front of the window, turning around from her task to see me watching her.
Part Two: The Day of the Reunion (still gathering string)