Mama E's Travels

So why the detour? My dad invited us. Originally, we planned on meeting up in Brookings. However, because the boys and I started late, those plans shifted from lunch at the church picnic to supper at the clubhouse.

My first job

The road construction outside of town led me past the farm where I strawberry-picked one June. I told my city slicker sons about how my parents dropped me off in the morning, and I picked until the farm had enough to sell for the day. Afterwards, I would ride my bike home unless there were flats that didn’t sell the day before.

Next, we stopped by my dad’s house and followed my aunt and him out to the golf course and clubhouse. 

As we drove through town, I was struck by how much had changed. Most of the roads were torn up for construction, but we wound our way past familiar spots while I shared nostalgic stories with my boys. 

Confirmation: Then and Now

I recalled being confirmed with just a handful of students, spanning six grades, in the tiny Catholic church that seats about 100. It was a sharp contrast to my oldest’s confirmation at the Cathedral of St. Paul. The group from our church was so large that it had to be split into three different groups.

As we drove by the White Historical Society and the house next door, I remembered aloud that I wanted to buy the house. I couldn’t remember why, but then again, it was the fancy of a young lady who moved to seven different places within the first thirteen years of her life. I suppose I wanted to become part of the life in White, but God didn’t have those plans for me.

When we passed by the football field and track, I remembered when it was on the outer loop of town. I would walk out that way and beyond into the country during the summer to get my tan on. I remembered when people started to build houses over there. I remembered going to football games as a part of the drum line. 

Remembering My High School Crush

I blushed as my mind traveled to thinking about my high school crush, who was on the football team. Many girls considered him handsome, which he was, but I crushed on him because I saw him as intelligent. I loved competing with him intellectually, which I’m pretty sure he hated. However, he was one of the few guys who lived in town. As long as his mom didn’t have plans for him, he would be nice to me when I stopped by to visit. I didn’t realize my intense fascination with him was what is called hyperfixation, which is a sign of ADHD. (Something I didn’t realize I had until 30 years later. I just thought it was part of my quirky personality.)

Because of the construction in town, or maybe my dad’s route, we ended up driving near my best friend’s house. We didn’t go down the road, so I could point it out to my boys. However, I made a mental note that I wanted to pass by there and then drive us past the house I lived in before we left town. I was all prepared to tell them about how I ran across town from her house to my house when the streetlights came on so I wouldn’t get in trouble for being late.

The Missing GPS Pin

I’m glad we followed my dad instead of meeting him out at the clubhouse. The GPS pin is not set in the right place. I had a faint idea of where the golf course clubhouse was, but my memory map was from when it first opened 20 years ago. Honestly, if I would have lost track of my dad, I would have driven north out of town until I got to the golf course. Then, I would have figured out the rest, like I did when I was a kid on a bicycle without a phone or GPS. What I didn’t calculate for was being thrown off by the housing growth in that area. All those new houses were never in my mental map, because I don’t travel that way to update it. 

After living in The Cities for 20 years, I didn’t expect much for food, but I hoped for a decent small-town, hometown meal. I don’t recall open-faced roast beef sandwiches on the menu, but I wasn’t disappointed with what we got. We all ordered something that could be whipped up in a jiff: chicken strips, buffalo chicken salad, hamburgers, and fries to share. We pulled our beverages from the cooler.

While our food cooked, I took a self-tour of the land surrounding the clubhouse. I wanted to take some pics of the place so I could write it up in my blog as a review.

My dad and I chatted a bit, and he greeted his neighbors who came in either to buy a round of golf or to get a bite to eat. Then I realized, the clubhouse has taken the place of the (closed) Palace Cafe as the local gathering spot. 

A silent vibration came across my watch, letting me know that the KOA in Mitchell was calling. So, I excused myself and picked up the phone. They were wondering when we were planning on showing up. It was getting late, and the lodge was going to close soon. After apologizing to my dad, we cut the conversation short, scarfed down our food, and rushed out the door. 

Even though we were in a hurry, I swung by the house I lived in and the school I went to. I told my boys about how the kids from three towns created that school.

Mischief Makers Walking to School

Then I told my boys the story of my brother and his buddies thinking they were going to walk to their school. The elementary school was ten miles away, up that north road. They were going to walk to school because they missed their bus. They missed their bus because he and his buddies messed around while waiting for it to leave the high school. Out on the north road, which ran by the golf course, the bus driver picked them up and drove them to school. Boy, did they get a talking to from the driver, most likely one from the principal, and I heard my brother get another one when he arrived home from school.

In the end, this detour wasn’t about the food. It was about memory, place, and allowing my boys to catch a glimpse of who I used to be.