I came home last night to find a new 'friend request' on my Facebook page. Expecting it to be someone from work or a family member that had recently discovered FB; I was pleasantly (no pun intended) surprised to find out the friend request was from a childhood friend named Andy Pleasant. I had not seen or heard of Andy since the end of 5th grade in Craig Colorado.
My family moved away from Craig and eventually Andy moved away as well, and as addresses changed we lost contact. Neither of us ever really knew what happened to the other. I had written a story about Andy on the blog last fall and had mentioned him in a couple of other spots in the blog. He was my best friend, so many of my Craig memories would no doubt involve him. I actually have a couple of more stories I intended to write, but had not got to them yet.
I found it even more surprising how it all came to be that Andy discovered my existence, and then sent me the friend request. I knew some of my family checked the blog from time to time, so I figured I had about 4 readers. Other than an occassional errant web surfer, I doubted that anyone else visited the blog, let alone anyone that might have a connection to Andy.
Shock as it was, it seems that one of Andy's employees found the blog and told him about it. After reading it, I assume he saw the Facebook Badge I have posted on the page and went to my Facebook page, signed himself up, and sent me the 'friend request'. We will have some catching up to do, it's been over 40 years since we knew each other.
Even more surprising, I went back to the original Andy blog post to reread it and see what I had actually said. I was surprised to find that someone named Joyce had seen the post and had sent me his name, location, and even a website for his business. Since her comment was posted some time after I had written the blog post, I didn't even know it was there.
So, I've had two people read the blog that knew Andy, or knew of his whereabouts. It makes me wonder who else may have dropped in to visit. If you're out there reading, and you know me or someone I have talked about, feel free to make a comment. You never know what the end result might be.
Anyway, it is exciting to make contact with an old friend. I spent a lot of time with Andy and his family when we were kids, it will be interesting to catch up.
Thanks to all you readers out there (all 6 of you?). I guess I will blog on...
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
Tuesday, February 2, 2010
Knez Gulch
I was so young that I really don't remember much about my very first years in Craig. I was born in California, but try not to hold that against me. I don't remember anything about the baby years that transpired prior to my arrival in Craig; which I'm sure is quite normal. At some point, when I was less than 5 years old, the family moved back to Colorado. I believe it was my first time to live in Colorado. The older siblings had lived in Colorado before, but not me. My sister Lynn had been born in Craig a few years earlier.
We moved into a house that was south of Craig and it was there that I began my Colorado years. Sadly, I don't remember a lot of details about the time when we lived south of town (I was only 4, cut me some slack). The house was located south of town, across the Yampa river, then east along a county road, past the little bitty airport, and then right on another county road. The house was set off to the right shortly after the turn and was on the private lane that went back to the Morton's house. I remember one of the houses was surrounded by huge trees,though I'm not sure if it was our house or the Morton's. There was a circle type driveway that went all the way around the house, and both houses were surrounded by fields. Outside of the fields were the sage covered mountains that ran to the south and east of the property. The house we lived in is no longer there; it was torn down at some point, and except for a gate next to the road, you'd probably never know it ever existed by the look of it today.
I don't know the name of the county road. Of course, at age 4, one does not really pay attention to the road signs. It was the road that went up to the Knez place. I don't really know what it was called so I just call it the Knez Gulch Road. The Knez (Keh-nez)family was the main family that we knew that lived up there. So, it's no wonder that in my little 4 year old mind, it was the Knez Road. Even today, there are Knez home owners up that road. In my mind, I pictured that road going up into the mountains to a beautiful home surrounded by trees and mountainous terrain. However on my last visit, I drove up there to discover it was just a winding road up a dry sage brush filled gulch. Nothing mountainous or beautiful about it.
The Morton's were very nice to us. I believe they were our landlords as well as our friends. Addie was a cook at the school district and remained friends with my mother long after we moved out of the house. Addie's husbands name was Roscoe I believe, and I seem to remember him as a very skinny old man. He must have been pretty sharp though, because they later sold that property, but he held onto the mineral rights. Later his estate became very wealthy because of that decision. We, on the other hand, did not!
What do I remember about the house south of town? I remember that it had a secret room. It was an old 2 story farm house. Behind one of the built in drawers I believe was a small room. My older siblings found it by accident I think. If you pulled the bottom drawer and crawled through the opening, you were in a small room. I'd like to say it was a panic room, but I don't think they had them in those days. Nevertheless, the kids loved to play in their secret room.
I, being the youngest, was probably not allowed to play it the secret room. I'm sure it was reserved for the 'big kids'. That brings me to another one of my strongest memories of the house south of town. I remember that all the older kids would get up and go to school and I could not go. I was too young! I distinctly remember wishing that I was old enough to go to school. I wanted so much to get on that bus like all the other kids instead of staying home with no other kids to play with. Just little ole me, all by my kidself, all day long. To make it worse, I was born in October and I just missed the cutoff to be able to go to school when I was 5 years old. So, I had to wait another whole year, until I was almost 6, before I could start the big K with Mrs. Rudd at Sunset Elementary. Later,after I began attending school, I recanted all my dreams of wishing I could go to school.
Like most 5 year olds, I loved to run around outside and explore. Trickling down the Knez Gulch was a little stream bed that usually had a little water flowing through it. There seemed to be a lot of water snakes near the water and I was often catching them and playing with the water snakes. One day, my older teenage brother Jim and I went for a hike on the hill east of our house. It was a rather large hill that inclined a couple of hundred feet above the road and it was covered in sage brush. No trees, just sagebrush. As we were walking, I came upon a snake. Fun! I loved to play with water snakes. The problem was that it was not a water snake! Fortunately, Jim was close to me, and I distinctly remember him grabbing me by the shoulder and hurling me backward. I guess he didn't want me to pick up that rattlesnake. We spent a great deal of time after that trying to kill the snake. I was the rock finder. I would run around looking for a good size rock and take it to Jim who would throw it at the snakes head to try and kill it. At one point my direction of travel back to Jim was leading straight toward the snake. Jim started yelling at me to go back and come around the other way. Eventually, we must have won the battle and killed the snake. Jim hauled it home and cut the rattler off. Jim had that rattle for a long time stored in a little magic box. It was one of those wooden boxes that had hidden compartments covered by sliding sides and sliding top pieces. Once assembled, one could hardly tell it had any pieces; it just looked like a solid box. I wonder what ever happened to that box?
The old house was old and drafty. Definaltly not the Ritz. One winter when it was extremely cold and the temperature was well below zero for many days, Dad decided to put the chickens down in the cellar under the house so they would not freeze to death. The interesting part was that when you looked through the cracks in the kitchen floor....you could see and hear the chickens clucking down there. Burrrr.
That's about all I can remember about the old house south of town. I'm sure my older brother and sisters can remember a lot more about the details than I could. Here is a picture of me about that age. I think this picture was taken at that same old house south of town. I'm not sure how long we lived there or why we moved. But the next place we lived was certainly not bigger and better.
Standing next to the Knez Gulch Road. That's Rattlesnake Mountain behind me.
We moved into a house that was south of Craig and it was there that I began my Colorado years. Sadly, I don't remember a lot of details about the time when we lived south of town (I was only 4, cut me some slack). The house was located south of town, across the Yampa river, then east along a county road, past the little bitty airport, and then right on another county road. The house was set off to the right shortly after the turn and was on the private lane that went back to the Morton's house. I remember one of the houses was surrounded by huge trees,though I'm not sure if it was our house or the Morton's. There was a circle type driveway that went all the way around the house, and both houses were surrounded by fields. Outside of the fields were the sage covered mountains that ran to the south and east of the property. The house we lived in is no longer there; it was torn down at some point, and except for a gate next to the road, you'd probably never know it ever existed by the look of it today.
I don't know the name of the county road. Of course, at age 4, one does not really pay attention to the road signs. It was the road that went up to the Knez place. I don't really know what it was called so I just call it the Knez Gulch Road. The Knez (Keh-nez)family was the main family that we knew that lived up there. So, it's no wonder that in my little 4 year old mind, it was the Knez Road. Even today, there are Knez home owners up that road. In my mind, I pictured that road going up into the mountains to a beautiful home surrounded by trees and mountainous terrain. However on my last visit, I drove up there to discover it was just a winding road up a dry sage brush filled gulch. Nothing mountainous or beautiful about it.
The Morton's were very nice to us. I believe they were our landlords as well as our friends. Addie was a cook at the school district and remained friends with my mother long after we moved out of the house. Addie's husbands name was Roscoe I believe, and I seem to remember him as a very skinny old man. He must have been pretty sharp though, because they later sold that property, but he held onto the mineral rights. Later his estate became very wealthy because of that decision. We, on the other hand, did not!
What do I remember about the house south of town? I remember that it had a secret room. It was an old 2 story farm house. Behind one of the built in drawers I believe was a small room. My older siblings found it by accident I think. If you pulled the bottom drawer and crawled through the opening, you were in a small room. I'd like to say it was a panic room, but I don't think they had them in those days. Nevertheless, the kids loved to play in their secret room.
I, being the youngest, was probably not allowed to play it the secret room. I'm sure it was reserved for the 'big kids'. That brings me to another one of my strongest memories of the house south of town. I remember that all the older kids would get up and go to school and I could not go. I was too young! I distinctly remember wishing that I was old enough to go to school. I wanted so much to get on that bus like all the other kids instead of staying home with no other kids to play with. Just little ole me, all by my kidself, all day long. To make it worse, I was born in October and I just missed the cutoff to be able to go to school when I was 5 years old. So, I had to wait another whole year, until I was almost 6, before I could start the big K with Mrs. Rudd at Sunset Elementary. Later,after I began attending school, I recanted all my dreams of wishing I could go to school.
Like most 5 year olds, I loved to run around outside and explore. Trickling down the Knez Gulch was a little stream bed that usually had a little water flowing through it. There seemed to be a lot of water snakes near the water and I was often catching them and playing with the water snakes. One day, my older teenage brother Jim and I went for a hike on the hill east of our house. It was a rather large hill that inclined a couple of hundred feet above the road and it was covered in sage brush. No trees, just sagebrush. As we were walking, I came upon a snake. Fun! I loved to play with water snakes. The problem was that it was not a water snake! Fortunately, Jim was close to me, and I distinctly remember him grabbing me by the shoulder and hurling me backward. I guess he didn't want me to pick up that rattlesnake. We spent a great deal of time after that trying to kill the snake. I was the rock finder. I would run around looking for a good size rock and take it to Jim who would throw it at the snakes head to try and kill it. At one point my direction of travel back to Jim was leading straight toward the snake. Jim started yelling at me to go back and come around the other way. Eventually, we must have won the battle and killed the snake. Jim hauled it home and cut the rattler off. Jim had that rattle for a long time stored in a little magic box. It was one of those wooden boxes that had hidden compartments covered by sliding sides and sliding top pieces. Once assembled, one could hardly tell it had any pieces; it just looked like a solid box. I wonder what ever happened to that box?
The old house was old and drafty. Definaltly not the Ritz. One winter when it was extremely cold and the temperature was well below zero for many days, Dad decided to put the chickens down in the cellar under the house so they would not freeze to death. The interesting part was that when you looked through the cracks in the kitchen floor....you could see and hear the chickens clucking down there. Burrrr.
That's about all I can remember about the old house south of town. I'm sure my older brother and sisters can remember a lot more about the details than I could. Here is a picture of me about that age. I think this picture was taken at that same old house south of town. I'm not sure how long we lived there or why we moved. But the next place we lived was certainly not bigger and better.
Standing next to the Knez Gulch Road. That's Rattlesnake Mountain behind me.
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