What comes to mind when you hear the phrase…“run into town”
This thought ran through my mind, and then, I thought of the Bill Holland, aka billybuc, Writing Challenge to ‘write about your childhood.’ My problem was, I have (In my mind, anyway) almost no recollections of my childhood, except those prompted by photos… and there are not a whole lot of them, to tell the truth. Now, if childhood includes High School, then, there are quite a few more memories. I’ll let that mull a bit, as I consider the phrase, ‘run into town.’
My use of the term “run into town” was in the context of needing to pick up a prescription from Walgreens in South Town Center of Hollister, about 5 miles away, with no other reason to go out. By the way, ‘run’ implies drive the car, not literally run… for you purists out there! ;-)
I have become increasingly aware of phases used throughout a long life that make little real sense standing alone to be analyzed but seem perfectly logical in context, in conversation. Larry used one last week that was new to me, but perfectly meaningful to him, since he had heard it his entire life. He put a rock behind the camper so it would not roll away, he ‘scotched it’ he said. I had never heard the term, but he had… We always called the accelerator pedal in the car a ‘foot feet’ - now, where did that come from???
From 1942 to 1957 I lived on my Mom and Dad’s farm that was four miles east and three miles north of Coon Rapids, Iowa (“town”). From 1942 to 1952, while the school I attended, Willow #3, was open, I had thought that going into town was mostly a Saturday night grocery shopping and social evening. However, in reviewing the diaries my Mom kept (from 1932 to 1999) I got a very different impression. My Mom was a town girl, a Coon Rapids girl. Her mother and father lived in Coon Rapids. The rental farms my Mom and Dad, Eileen and Pete, lived on were closer to town by about half. It turns out from reading the diaries, there was a constant back and forth among them throughout. “I’m going to ‘run into town’” happened with great frequency, not just when needing a part or some grocery item. Often I was carted along, outside of school times, into town and dropped off at grandma’s house… much more than I would have guessed.
This just confirms my lack of memory of those early years. Once schools consolidated and I went to town for eighth grade, I remember these things occurring regularly. Both Mom and Dad were active in school board business, in the rural district and in the consolidation. Dad was President of the Coon Rapids School Board the year I graduated, in May 1957, and handed me by diploma. I do have many memories of those last five years in town school. I’ll have to be selective at that point if I write something about the time.
With these caveats in mind, I think I can respond to the challenge from Bill Holland, aka billybuc, to write a HubPages article: Childhood - a Memoir - Response to a Challenge. I am certainly going to give it a try. I’ll come back and post the link here, if I do! ;-)
See you down the road… ;-)
