Helen McGeeney
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Mystery guests make Dad wonder about childhood visit
Funny Side Up
By Helen McGeeney
Our parents used to tell us good stories. Most of them were about their families when they were children. I remember a great one Dad told us.
In 1861, his parents had settled in Pottawatomie County, building their house by a stream called Spring Creek. There, they welcomed and started rearing their children, my dad being the fifth one. In the 1870s, Dad would have been a young, observant and impressionable child.
One day, two horsemen rode down their lane and into their yard. In those days, visitors were always invited in to eat with the family, and this was no exception. The young men entered. It was noticed, and later noted, that the leader of the two went in first, around to the far side of the table to sit facing the door. His back was to the far wall. They visited as they ate, but the young men never revealed who they were. I doubt anyone wanted to ask, for I suppose they wore holsters with guns. Anyway, they were guests, then called “company,” so the kids were happy and excited over their time together.
Later, after they moved to a larger acreage, Grandpa bred horses: trotters and thoroughbred racers. He had many horses and a half-mile racetrack on the farm. As Dad grew older, he became a jockey for his dad, riding in places like Kansas City, Mo.; Chicago; Latonia, Ky.; and St. Louis, Mo. He rode until he went over the weight limit. Even after that, he continued to go because his father was aging and could use help.
Every now and then, they thought of the visitors, but who they were remained a mystery. There was an idea who they might have been, but no way to be certain. It especially stayed in Dad’s mind, on the “back burner,” and became a topic of conversation. Each time they were left bereft of knowledge.
They knew two brothers had traveled around in a few-state area, joining other men, with the group committing bank robberies and some doing other crimes, and wondered if it had been those brothers who had swung by their Spring Creek home years before.
Some years later and some time after the one brother had been shot and killed, Dad thought a golden opportunity had arrived. It was in St. Louis at the racetrack. Dad went with his hunch.
While visiting with the brother who was there, Dad described where his family had lived and the time of the event, then asked “Frank, was it you and your brother Jesse who came to our house and ate dinner with us?” hoping to get an outright answer.
Frank looked at him and answered “I never speak of the past!” So Dad never got the spoken “yes” he had anticipated. However, thinking back, Dad realized Frank, in what we would call “body language” had given his assent. Their guests must have been the James boys.
Dad’s story intrigues me, for I really like a good mystery. It’s fun trying to figure out the answers. I’m grateful for all the mysteries and small miracles experienced in life and give glory to God for His gently revealing the information He wants us to have at any given time. He is also the Master at holding it until the right time for His revelation.
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In 1861, his parents had settled in Pottawatomie County, building their house by a stream called Spring Creek. There, they welcomed and started rearing their children, my dad being the fifth one. In the 1870s, Dad would have been a young, observant and impressionable child.
One day, two horsemen rode down their lane and into their yard. In those days, visitors were always invited in to eat with the family, and this was no exception. The young men entered. It was noticed, and later noted, that the leader of the two went in first, around to the far side of the table to sit facing the door. His back was to the far wall. They visited as they ate, but the young men never revealed who they were. I doubt anyone wanted to ask, for I suppose they wore holsters with guns. Anyway, they were guests, then called “company,” so the kids were happy and excited over their time together.
Later, after they moved to a larger acreage, Grandpa bred horses: trotters and thoroughbred racers. He had many horses and a half-mile racetrack on the farm. As Dad grew older, he became a jockey for his dad, riding in places like Kansas City, Mo.; Chicago; Latonia, Ky.; and St. Louis, Mo. He rode until he went over the weight limit. Even after that, he continued to go because his father was aging and could use help.
Every now and then, they thought of the visitors, but who they were remained a mystery. There was an idea who they might have been, but no way to be certain. It especially stayed in Dad’s mind, on the “back burner,” and became a topic of conversation. Each time they were left bereft of knowledge.
They knew two brothers had traveled around in a few-state area, joining other men, with the group committing bank robberies and some doing other crimes, and wondered if it had been those brothers who had swung by their Spring Creek home years before.
Some years later and some time after the one brother had been shot and killed, Dad thought a golden opportunity had arrived. It was in St. Louis at the racetrack. Dad went with his hunch.
While visiting with the brother who was there, Dad described where his family had lived and the time of the event, then asked “Frank, was it you and your brother Jesse who came to our house and ate dinner with us?” hoping to get an outright answer.
Frank looked at him and answered “I never speak of the past!” So Dad never got the spoken “yes” he had anticipated. However, thinking back, Dad realized Frank, in what we would call “body language” had given his assent. Their guests must have been the James boys.
Dad’s story intrigues me, for I really like a good mystery. It’s fun trying to figure out the answers. I’m grateful for all the mysteries and small miracles experienced in life and give glory to God for His gently revealing the information He wants us to have at any given time. He is also the Master at holding it until the right time for His revelation.