Home .... and Heart ... and Old Friends ....

Robert Frost wrote in his poem "The Death of the Hired Man":

... what else but home?
It all depends on what you mean by home.
...
Home is the place where, when you have to go there,
They have to take you in.

But, as the old idiom posits, home is also where the heart is. And the heart resides not only in the place where your head finds your pillow, where you are safe from rain and wind, where your family now surrounds you. Home is also held close in mind and memory, within our very souls ... memories of long-ago places, and well- or half-remembered faces, and friends and family and lovers long gone ... or perhaps just misplaced in the rush of life.

I recently traveled about a thousand miles (each way) over five days, from our present "home" in Las Vegas, through portions of southern Nevada, and Arizona, and New Mexico, and the Texas Panhandle, ultimately all the way to Childress, my "home" for sixteen years. I drove by my grandparents' house ... but Mamaw and Papa and Scott and Mother are of the past, though in my heart, and the house doesn't look the same, and it is no longer "home" to me, except to the extent that I am able to recall the love and life that once lived there. I drove by the "old" (our) high school (now the junior high school), and though the building looks very much like it did in 1963, it is not the "Home of the Bobcats" and of my youth that it once was to me. Yet "home" is in the faces of Raenell and Marilyn and Dana, and that welcomes and warms me.

I found my Childress "home" again, up the road in Amarillo, in Pat's bright greeting and hospitality, in the faces and eyes and the hugs exchanged with Nicki and Jim, and the conversation and reminiscences over coffee and bacon and eggs. So basic ... yet "home". And then I was in the "home" conjured by the music and lyrics of old familiar songs, scenes remembered and illuminated as I drove from Albuquerque on my return trip, watching the full, pale gold Hunter's Moon set in the last hour of darkness.

Now I am "home" again ... home as it is now, as Simon and Garfunkle sang, "home where my thoughts escaping ... where my love lies waiting, silently for me." In the "epitaph" for "Fiddler Jones" in Edgar Lee Masters' Spoon River Anthology", Masters writes in Jones' voice:

The earth keeps some vibration going
There in your heart, and that is you.
...
I ended up ... with a thousand memories
And not a single regret.

Regrets are poisonous ... cherish the "gold" and toss the dross.

There, in my e-mail, another vibration of "home" ... in a story from my dear friend, Jim Spradley, Sr., Mike's dad. It is a memory of Jim's old friend, "Doc" McConnell, Johnny's dad, and how Childress became the McConnells' home. And now I share it with you, with my hope that you will come "home" again and join us here on the blog ... and that you treasure and cherish your "thousand memories", as I do mine.

Jennifer

Thanks to Mike for the picture below of Jim Sr. and his dog Champ.

Jim Sr. said:

After learning of Johnny McConnell`s demise recently, I thought of the following true story concerning his Dad. Then, out of the blue, #2 Son Mike asked me to relate it to anyone who might be interested, so for what it`s worth, this it.

This is the story, as told to me by Dr. J.P."Doc" McConnell, DDS, Lt. Cmdr. USN, Ret, of how he elected to reside and set up his dental practice in Childress, Texas.

Doc`s Naval service in World War 11 was carried out in the San Francisco area, probably at Alameda or Treasure Island, I'm not certain. He was discharged from the Navy, I believe in 1945, at San Francisco and was traveling by train, on his way home to Azle, Texas, located a short distance North from Ft. Worth.

He was on the old Ft. Worth & Denver passenger train, that went through Childress every night about midnight. It had stopped in Childress for about 30 minutes, for water and coal, and on the spur of the moment, Doc decided to get off the train and walk around downtown Childress, just to unlimber his legs. Remember, the train depot was located very close to the South end of downtown Childress. After a brief walk, he re-boarded the train and proceeded on his way to Ft. Worth. However, during the last leg of his trip, he thought more and more about Childress and decided that would be the ideal place to live and practice dentistry. With that decision made, even though he had only seen Childress in the dark, he proceeded to move to Childress, bought a house, and set up his office on Ave. E, just East from the Courthouse, which incidentally, was next door to our office (General Adjustment Bureau). That's where I first met him and we remained very good friends until he passed away. He called me "Jim" when we were around others, but always referred to me as "Chum" when we were alone. He and his wife Gladys, visited us quite often after we moved to Lubbock, which was also occasioned by Johnny and Jackie living only a short distance away. My wife Lornadee and Gladys became very close friends, having shared the same birth date, Dec. 20, and remained so until my wife's demise April 22, 1996. They were just one of the many couples, who made our 9 year stay in Childress, most enjoyable.

Jim Spradley, Sr.