When I close my eyes what do I see? The little town that made me, me…

MURDO MATTERS

I found out they tore down the old Jones County State Bank, today. Do you know what that means? Murdo has temporarily lost another iconic building. Before we know it, the fifties and sixties will be nothing but history. I have personally been waging a war against changing Murdo.

In my stories about the Brick House gang, I have already reprised the old Murdo High School and the elementary school buildings. Fern’s Café and Mack’s Café have both reopened. We still have those two great places where we can enjoy fresh cinnamon rolls, chocolate cake, and hot beef sandwiches. Joy Payne’s dress shop, the Murdo Show house, and Gambles are purring along. Beckwith’s Jewelry Store is next to Joy Payne’s. Mr. Beckwith is good at fixing watches and his kids are good at music.

The Post Office is back where it should be, and Thune Hardware is next to the drug store. The dry cleaners, on the other side of Mowell’s Drug Store, is still a much needed business in Murdo. There’s a locker for people to take their meat if they don’t have a freezer at home, and the Buffalo Bar is across the street from the locker. The Gem Hotel, the Murdo Hotel and the Laundromat are all uptown, too.

Super Value still has the Frosty Freeze attached to it, and we have five or six full service gas stations. In addition to Mack’s and Fern’s, you can eat at Highway 16 Café with all the tourists and the Teepee. It’s pretty new.

Most importantly, Sanderson’s Store is just as it always was…Aunt Tet lives upstairs and the Leckeys are living in the apartment across the hall. Doc Bork is our dentist and Doc Murphy makes house calls. Uncle Jerry Miller, Delmer Miller and a guy named Reginator, build all the new houses and Dad has a plumbing and heating business. When someone asked him how many guys were working for him, he said about half of them…

Graham Motor Lodge is under construction and they’re going to have a swimming pool. Mom runs our little motel called the Chalet which is across the highway from Grahams. The Gonzales, Boysens, and Wheelers have motels and the Iversons own the Red Top. I heard a family by the name of Edwards just bought it. Laura Hayden has motel rooms all over town. (I might have spelled some of those names incorrectly.)

There are a couple of beauty shops in Murdo and Kitty Reynolds sews for more than a few families. People buy their cars from the Ford Garage and the Pioneer Auto Museum is as well known as Wall Drug.

The ladies in town play a lot of bridge, and drink a lot of coffee. They probably gossip more than they should. Nobody likes to miss coffee because they can only talk about the ones who aren’t there. After coffee, Mom and Aunt Elna go home and call each other to gossip about the gossip. It’s a lot to keep up with. Grandma Sanderson goes when one of her girls will take her. She always has her hair done and wears her beads. She never repeats gossip because she’s very hard of hearing and she fears she’ll tell it wrong.

The school boys have football, basketball and track and the girls have basketball. There are no home economics classes offered, but the moms who can cook, teach their girls. Makes sense to me. I already know how to make chocolate chip cookies. What else do I need to know?

I love the new Swanson’s fried chicken TV dinners and Mom makes baked potatoes with chicken pot pies. We mush them all together on our plate. It’s very filling and good! She makes roasts and all kinds of other good stuff.

When kids go steady, the girls sit in the middle of the front seat of the boy’s car, even if the car has bucket seats. They drive around town for hours. They go around Brunskill’s hill and up and down Main Street. We don’t have street signs. I don’t even know the name of the street I live on. I also don’t know how kids can do all that driving around. Gas is 35 cents a gallon. The girls who go steady wear the boy’s class rings and make them fit by sticking wadded up tape under the wide part.

There are lots of little stock dams where guys like Grandpa Sanderson like to fish. You can boat but you can’t swim at the North Dam. It’s where our drinking water comes from. We swim at the East Dam, sometimes called Seymour’s Dam, and fish at the South Dam. One time when Billy was going to be late for school, Mom didn’t make him go. We all hate to be late for anything. Anyway, he went fishing at the South Dam and someone caught him and called him a truant.

Yup…I’m taking it upon myself to keep Murdo just like it was, so whoever wants to help me is more than welcome. Those guys who tore down the bank can just put it back together again. Oh, and leave our Post Office alone. A real nice lady runs it.

Guess I’ll put an ad in the Murdo Coyote.

When you hear people talking about growing up in a small town, you hear all the cliches, like, “People know what you’ve done, even before you do it.” It’s true. I remember being out later than I should have been on a school night, and when I got to school the next morning, a teacher confronted me. It was a long day. I felt everyone’s eyes on me. They were just waiting for me to doze off in class.

When I was a freshman in high school, I went to the prom with a guy who was a sophomore and had just started driving. He was allowed to drive the family car for the occasion, but a problem developed. We were both inexperienced daters and he didn’t have the courage to tell me he was supposed to be home with the car at a certain time. I wasn’t smart enough to know when I should ask him to take me home.

When I finally walked into my  house at 3:00 a.m., my dad, who never worried much about my activities, was fit to be tied. I was highly offended that he might think I had gone someplace I shouldn’t have. After all, in a small town, there are very few places you shouldn’t be.

Dad finally went to bed when I told him my date said we put fifty miles on his dad’s car. To make matters worse, his dad was my typing teacher. I still can’t type very well. He never helped me learn how to find the numbers without looking and I was afraid to ask.

You’re probably thinking I wasn’t brave. Well, I wasn’t, but I was adventuresome. I made it all the way to Texas didn’t I?

Living in a small town, is like being part of a big family. Everyone knows you, and you know them. The people who move into town are usually preachers or teachers, so they don’t really add any mystery to the fabric of the town.

Everyone knew everybody else’s dog, too. None of the dogs had to eat real dog food, and in Murdo, they didn’t have to stay in their own yards. When my dog, Penny, had puppies, my cousin told me the father was another cousin’s dog who had been visiting from Pennsylvania. I’m pretty sure I have this right. I know my cousin, Valerie, will correct me if I have the details wrong. Her dog’s name was Midnight. He was smart and Uncle Al taught him all kinds of tricks. Midnight deflowered Penny, left town and never looked back.

My cousins, the Millers, had Scamp. He was afraid of fireworks. One time he somehow got inside one of our motel rooms without anyone seeing him. In the middle of the night, after the firecrackers stopped and he felt safe, he came out from under the bed and scared the devil out of the poor tourists.

How did I get off onto dog stories? Mom told us about her friends, Dan and Harriet, telling her about their little puppy. Harriet adored him, but sadly, one of them backed over him in the driveway. Harriet said, “At least it didn’t hurt him.” (Meaning he died instantly, therefore, he felt no pain.) Dan said, “What do you mean it didn’t hurt him? It killed him!”

I’m a huge dog lover. Maybe it’s only funny if you hear Mom tell it, and it’s years later.

There is so much to tell about growing up in a small town. Even years later, you feel a sense of belonging somewhere, whether you’ve moved on or not. When I first left Murdo, I actually wondered what certain people were doing every day. It seemed strange that their lives went on just like before even though I wasn’t there to be a part of it all.

I have made some good friends, through this blog, who are from small towns and they get it. We all have fun looking back.

 Yes, looking back to a time when there were no tiny homes. At least not on purpose.

Today is a very special day. It’s the fifth anniversary of my very first blog. It’s also the fifth anniversary of the very first day of the first long trip that Kip and I took in our new, old motor home. Oh, the adventures we’ve had on our trips and at home.

In some ways it seems like I’ve been writing this blog forever. I have reaped so many rewards and had a ton of fun. New friends have become old friends and old friends from years ago, have come back into my life. I am truly blessed.

The blog was first called, See Ya Soon, which is the name of our motor home. When Kip and I headed out that first day, my brother, Billy, suggested I write a blog chronicling our trip. That way family and friends could read the daily blog, or if they didn’t, I wouldn’t have to worry about remembering everything when I told everyone about the whole two months we were gone. I could just refer to my blog. That’s the second time Billy has made that mistake.  He once treated Grandpa Sanderson, to a trip to California and a wonderful time was had by all. When Grandpa came back to Murdo, Billy gave him a map to refer to. Everywhere they had been was highlighted in red so Grandpa wouldn’t (couldn’t) forget anywhere they went, anyone they saw, and everything they did. He hauled that thing out so many times that we all knew that trip six ways from Sunday. Billy should have known better.

Oh the stories I could tell…and I did. I want to thank all of you for reading them. Like Grandpa Sanderson, I have repeated some of them several times. Now I have thousands of stories and as you all know, I don’t forget a thing.

Here is a repeat of the very first blog…

We’re starting this blog to let family and friends know what we’re up to as we venture out on our first long trip. Actually, this is only our 2nd time out. We managed quite well on our 38 mile, 2 night trip.

We’re travelling with our three pooches, (Cyndie, Sammie, and Pattie), and Dollie the cat is around here somewhere, too.

We are on our 3rd day out and we’re now proud to say we’ve made it 193 miles. We’re having a wonderful time in beautiful downtown Wichita falls. There is a story to tell, but we won’t go into that now.

We would like to thank our son-in-law, Brad, who set up the blog. He is in no way responsible for the content. I’m sure he is grateful for that.

Take a look back fifty+ years. What do you remember?

It’s nineteen sixty-seven and it’s early in September.

An American lunar lander, landed on the moon.

You were waiting at MHS, for the whistle to blow at noon.

The Beatles’ Magical Mystery Tour was released in the UK.

 Otis Redding recorded, “Sittin on the Dock of the Bay.”

We heard the best new movie was, “Guess who’s coming to dinner.”

It took two more years for Murdo to get the academy award winner.

You could go to Mack’s cafe and buy a pop for just a dime.

 South Dakota voted yes… to daylight savings time.

In May of 1968… you made plans for a celebration.

You were ready to go and spread your wings…right after graduation.

I’m delivering a message… from Marilyn Kinsley Strait,

To the Murdo High School graduates of 1968.

(information below)

Come and join the gathering, and talk about old times.

I just have one more thing to add. (I’m running out of rhymes.)

If you’ll take a moment to stop and think,

You’ll see it’s quite a coinkydink.

Since ’68 you’ve come so far,

 68…is now how old you are.

(My mother, Loretta, graduated 80 years ago. You might recognize the names of others in her class.)

 

Below you’ll see the info, so be sure and save the date.

Call or email Marilyn or Cheryl. Don’t wait til it’s too late.

****************************

MHS Class of 1968  (Others are welcome to stop by)

A get-together is being planned to mark 50 years since our high school graduation.

A buffet evening meal will take place at the Buffalo Lounge and Restaurant Party Room on Saturday evening, August 18, 2018.

We need to have a RSVP from you by June 29^th so meal plans can be made.  Please let us know how many will be in your party.

The buffet will be $12 per person.  Ice tea and ice water will be provided with the meal.

Alcoholic beverages may be ordered from the bar.

Social Hour 5:30 to 6:30

Meal 6:30 to ?????

Cheryl (Hoard) McMillan 669-2674

Marilyn (Kinsley) Strait 669-2808  cmstrait@goldenwest.net

25301 Little White River Road, White River, SD 57579  Also on Face Book

We are making an effort to contact all the graduates, but please pass this on to other classmates.

RSVP  by June 29th

Name:_____________________________________________________________

_________Will attend       ________Will not attend

Number attending buffet meal:_________________________________________

          ********************************

FYI…

Below is a list of all the people in my family who have graduated from MHS/JCHS. The years range from 1926 to 2011. Jeff Sanderson’s wife, Irma Bork Sanderson, also graduated from MHS. Vava Bowers (Robert), and Margaret Anderson Francis (John), taught in Murdo, but were not MHS graduates.

1. Bowers, Margarete, 1926
2. Bowers, Robert, 1929
3. Bowers, William (Bev), 1933
4. Francis, William, 1937
5. Francis, John, 1934
6. Francis, Charles, 1942
7. Francis, William, Billy, 1962
8. Francis, Mary, 1970
9. Sanderson, Wayne, 1930
10. Sanderson, Ella, 1933
11. Sanderson, Jeff, 1933
12. Sanderson, Helen, 1935
13. Sanderson, Loretta, 1938
14. Sanderson, Elna, 1944
15. Sanderson, Terry, 1959
16. Sanderson, Jeff H., 1965
17. Sanderson, Mark, 1970
18. Sanderson, Rhon, 1986
19. Sanderson, Len, 1987
20. Miller, Andrea, 1967
21. Miller, Stephanie, 1971
22. Miller, Greg, 1973
23. Miller, Renee, 2003
24. Miller, Jordon, 2007
25. Miller, Matthew, 2011

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Woven threads of color,

A beauty to behold;

Each thread a chapter of a life.

The tapestry unfolds.

There within the richness,

Are tears of golden hue;

While silver threads of laughter,

Are gently woven through.

Hanging there in splendor for all the world to see;

The beauty of a life well spent, in richest tapestry.

As part of our journey into the world of minimalist living, we have been planning a family day to go through things Kip and I no longer need or have room for in our tiny home. We felt our family should be given the chance to take a look inside the boxes and keep anything that was meaningful to them.

Today was just the beginning of the process. We realized rather quickly that this couldn’t be done in one day. As it was, it took a few of us some time to get with the program and deal with all of the mementos and photographs that represent our individual and collective ties to the past.

It was an amazing day to witness and be a part of. I will write a blog about the fun, funny, and awesome moments of discovery, tomorrow, but tonight, I want to share some photos from one album that has been hidden in a box stored in the attics of the different homes we have lived in over the years. It’s full of photographs from the 1940’s. Someone else’s memories.

My Grandma, Mary Sanderson, with her daughter, Ella, in California. Grandma traveled from South Dakota to California by herself. She was hoping to get there before her son, Jeff shipped out. She didn’t make it in time and my mother told me she wouldn’t look at the ocean the whole time she was there because it took her Jeff away. Jeff is on the right in the second picture. I don’t know who the other two men are, or the baby. They are standing in front of a fountain, which may have been in California or wherever they were stationed.

From the left in the bottom picture is my dad’s brother, John, and his wife Margaret. I don’t recognize the tall man. Standing to the right of him, is Ella Sanderson, Bill Francis, and my mother, Loretta. I don’t know the blond lady next to Dad in the second picture with Ella, Mom, and Margaret.

Grandma Sanderson with her oldest grandson, Terry. It says April, 1942 on the bottom. This must have been taken in Murdo. Grandpa, (M.E.) Sanderson is in the second photo. It looks like he is in the Black Hills. I’m not sure when he purchased his cabin there. 

This picture of Bob Haverberg was in the album. He married my mother’s sister, Helen Sanderson. I was struck by how much his son, (my cousin, Bobby), looks like him.

I loved looking at pictures of my family when they were just beginning their adult years. I wish I had asked more questions about their lives back then. Wartime was full of uncertainties. These young South Dakota men and women went places that I’ve never been. They met new people, some of which became lifelong friends. I remember Mom talking about someone she called, Skeeterbumpererguypalschmidt. I’m not kidding. She and her husband lived in Merced, California. They kept up with each other for quite a few years.

This probably isn’t of too much interest to my blog readers who aren’t like me. I love looking at old pictures no matter who is in them.

In this case, I know how the tapestry of most of the lives of the people pictured above unfolded. There were silver threads of joy, and tears of golden hue…each of us has our own unique tapestry. Some are more golden, and some have more silver threads.

Looking through this album, I saw moments in time captured…just waiting for me to see them.

I’m going to show you a few priceless pictures that were taken today…Yes… that long lost teddy bear was Kip’s childhood friend. Hudson fell in love with him.

The need for Queenology can’t be overstated

I don’t know if you know this, but Queens aren’t regulated

You don’t have to pass a test or prove qualifications

 

No license is required, to be the Queen of Queen ruled nations

You can soak up all the glamour and not do a lick of work.

Folks bow to your feet, hoping for a Queenie perk.

But being a Queen ain’t as easy as you’d think

Queenology tells us, it can truly stink

You must wear a crown, or a hat most every minute

And that formal dress? They want to see you in it.

 

No jeans or tennis shoes and you won’t be eating steak.

You really can’t afford it. No money will you make.

If you eat all that good bad stuff, you soon will realize,

You won’t fit where you used to. Sunroofs are just one size

 

Yes Queens are pretty special. I’m sure you’ve seen a few,

BUT SERIOUSLY!!!…HAVE YOU SEEN THESE TWO?

 

Long live the Queen…and she is… believe you me.

But you’ll get tired of waving, and sick of drinking tea.

When you’re little you’re a princess, looking for a prince.

When you get a little older, he just might make you wince

Go ahead and be a Queen, now that you know it can be done

But if it really was that easy… wouldn’t all old broads be one?

 

 

I think Mom and my aunt were two of the cleverest people who ever lived. They were never without a plan. They were never caught flat-footed. I never, ever, saw them unable to meet a situation that called for a plan, without one.

 

 

Let’s use the telephone as an example. Back when I was growing up, if the phone rang, you answered it. There was no way of knowing who was going to be on the other end. It could be an important call that you wouldn’t want to miss. If it was juicy news, and you didn’t answer, the caller would just go on to the next person on the grapevine. There was no such thing as voicemail, either. If you missed an important call, you could only hope the party would call back. But then there were those “other” calls. The ones you would rather have missed. The ones from the PTA asking you to bake cookies, or the ones from the ladies who could talk for hours and not tell you one iota of interesting news. These are the calls that gave birth to the plans.

My aunt always answered the phone with a pitiful voice… (cough)…hello…(cough). If the caller was someone she wasn’t in the mood to spend time conversing with, she could say she wasn’t feeling well, and would weakly ask if they could call back another time. If it was someone she wanted to hear from, my aunt recovered quickly.

I’ve told you about Mom’s trick. She would hang up when she was in the middle of a sentence. She said no one would ever believe she hung up on herself. They’ll think they got disconnected. If the party called right back, the line would be…busy. It’s hard to believe anybody would ever call them, isn’t it?

I remember Mom’s excitement one day when she read Erma Bombeck’s plan for dealing with unexpected visitors. Don’t worry about getting caught with a dirty house, she advised. You should invite them right in. All you have to do is put some get well cards all over and people will think you’ve been too sick to clean. It’s funny…I don’t remember my mother ever being “for real” sick. I would be afraid all of that pretending would tempt fate. I would fake being sick and then really get sick.

Mom came up with some good plans, but she was always willing to learn from others like Erma Bombeck or Ann Landers.

You’ve gotta love small towns. I’ll always love my hometown.

Speaking of Murdo, I got a message from Marilyn Kinsley Strait. The class of 1968 is gathering contact information for a potential get together. You can send information and updates to cmstrait@goldenwest.net (Marilyn).

It’s been fifty years since you spent your last day as classmates and I really hope you have a well attended reunion.

 

 

I was looking at the only MHS annual I have. It belonged to Connie Jackson and was given to me by her brother, Eddie. He discovered I spent most of my high school years trying to be “Connie like” and knew how much I would treasure having a little piece of her history. It’s the 1967 annual which was the year all of you were Juniors. (My small town smarts in action.) Some of the comments you classmates wrote inside are priceless.

 

 

I hope you give yourself the gift of going back and sharing memories of those high school years. Please pass the information on to anyone who might not read Murdo Girl. There can’t be that many.

A few youngsters from the class of 70

Songs from 1968 to get you feeling nostalgic…

https://playback.fm/charts/top-100-songs/1968

Happy 50th!

 

When they said they were going to put in our water and sewer this week, they didn’t mean today. Just thought I would let you know. They did come by sometime this afternoon and put in two more little flags in preparation. We must have seven or eight flags now, marking the spot where they will sooner or later be digging. Shoot, I’d go dig it out with a spoon if it would speed things up.

It’s okay…we have more to do than we can say grace over, and we’re so much slower than we used to be… and we tire easily. We are moving things in and making plans to be rid of those things that will no longer have a place in our lives, though still in our hearts. Oh come on! It’s just stuff!

We took our broken pictures to Michael’s in Mesquite yesterday to be framed. We also took two of Kip’s Grandpa, on his ranch in Big Piney, Wyoming, to be re-framed. Big Piney is always the coldest spot in the nation. We all love these pictures of Grandpa McNinch wearing his holy felt hat and frayed denim shirt. You can see the photos being transported in the shopping cart, but I will take better pictures of the pictures when we pick them all up in two weeks.

We also shopped, yesterday, for short stools to fit around our little kitchen island and tall stools for the high counter. We won’t have a table, but six people can sit comfortably in those two places. Of course, there will still be room for the plate balancers who can sit in the recliners in the living room. (I hate recliners, but if I want to stay married to Kip, I have to tolerate them.) We didn’t buy any high/low stools yesterday, but we did today. They’ll be here Thursday.

So as of right now, we’re still only visitors in our tiny home, but we love the neighborhood and we’re going to love our tiny house, big brown barn, and teeny shed.

Lovely lighting under the cabinets.  I can’t wait to sit by the fire pit and drink my coffee in the mornings. I can even see the lake from my perch on the porch.

Thankfully, we didn’t ruin the “Stick with Me” canvas I got as a housewarming present for Kip when we moved into our previous abode, the small house.

We’ll let you know how the water watch works out tomorrow. Remember the only people with perfect lives are the ones we don’t know very well. ( I just heard that phrase and I like it.)