From the time I was in the first grade I stayed summers at the farm, but I sometimes got a bit homesick. Those attacks didn't occur too often...but when they hit, they hit hard. I remember on several occasions sitting on the front porch waiting for Mom and Dad to arrive from Dallas. Grandpa and Grandma would sit out there with me after supper, and we would watch for car lights coming over the Goddager Hill on Highway 22. Every time a car passed over the hill I just knew it had to be them...and each time the car didn’t turn at Mustang I would suffer an acute case of disappointment. Occasionally, a car would turn off and head toward Mustang. I would watch its every turn. Once a car turned off Highway 22, the chance of it being Mom and Dad was pretty good. We would watch the car turn by the school house, make its way past Coin Tergerson's place, then the lights would disappear behind the trees. We would catch another glimpse of car lights when it came around the curve at Sander Tergerson's house. As the lights came closer I would really begin to get excited. Sometimes the car would turn right and head up toward Rogstads, and it's needless to say how disappointed I would be. Then, our eyes would focus again on the Goddager Hill. I'd watch car after car head up toward the Gap; but eventually another car would turn off and come toward Mustang. I'd go through that same routine time after time, waiting for them to come. As the car came to the second turnoff, the suspense would build again. This time it turned left..."This could be them!".... but they didn't make the turn north. They headed toward Clarence's and Carroll's places.

Eventually another car would make the turn toward Mustang and the excitement and anticipation would be rekindled once again. As cars went past our place, Grandpa would prove his "wizardry" by telling me who was in each car as they went on down the road. He was really good at that. Most of the time he could tell if it was Mom and Dad coming down the road by the time they made the turn by the south field. Grandpa said people traveling from long distances drove faster than the locals of Mustang who usually didn't get in too big of a hurry.

It was always so good to see my folks and find out what had been going on in Pecan Heights. Before long, Sunday afternoon would arrive, and my folks would head back to Dallas. That was a sad time for me...of course, I would try my best to hide it. As they drove away I would usually "choke up" a little bit, but Grandpa would always bring me out of it. He was great about getting me busy doing something so I would get their leaving off my mind. He was a very perceptive and understanding man. On Monday morning things would be great once again. In a few weeks we would be expecting them again. On Friday night I would start my game of "car light watching" and the anticipation of their arrival would start all over.

Once I was plowing at the Nygard place when I was a bit homesick. It was late in the summer and getting time for me to go back to Dallas and start school. As I continued to plow I saw an old gray Ford coupe coming out into the field where I was plowing. The car stopped on the other side of the field near the gate, and two people got out of the car. Of course, any time something like this happened you would play another game called "I wonder who the heck that could be." After I racked my brain as to who it could be, I had to give up. As I approached the strange car I was so surprised to see it was Daddy and Grandpa. I was so glad to see him. He was driving the 1936 Ford coupe he had rebuilt and restored. That car purred like a kitten, and it really was a slick looking car. Daddy had been working on the car for several months, and his finished product was a real "gem" of a car. Grandpa said he would plow a few more rounds and then take the tractor home, so I could go with Dad. He let me drive his coupe so I drove up toward Albert Hasting's place and then around by Belford Grimland's and then home. We shot a few rabbits along the way. I'll never forget that day. Dad eventually traded the coupe to Homer Muirhead for a 1946 Ford pickup. That old truck today sits under the live oak trees north of the barn.*

It was always great to stay with Grandpa and Grandma, but after so long a time it was always great to see my Mom and Dad. Letters from home were always nice to read, but they usually brought on a case of homesickness. In time it would go away as soon as I got back to my daily routine of feeding turkeys, harvesting, or plowing. Grandpa was the best medicine in the world for "the blues" or homesickness. What made it so nice was his ability to apply the medicine when needed.

 *The ’46 Ford pickup was restored/rebuilt by the Andrews High School Auto Tech classes. (Completed in ’98.) 

                JMW/February 15, 1987

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