In the Quiet – Part One
The house being quiet while I am in the sewing studio is the ultimate. It is amazing what travels through memories when there is quiet all around.
Today is February 2nd, 2020. Many, many years ago on a February 2nd I found out where Riesel, Texas was. It was quite far from Dallas on a flat plain. It was a very small town along the highway and it was cotton gin town. The cotton gins were still productive.
I came to Riesel, Texas, as a newly married farm girl, married to Orlin only a day prior. Why Riesel? Many years before Orlin had been stationed on an Air Force base not far from Riesel. Norman and Elaine ran a newspaper in Riesel and it didn’t take long for a lasting friendship to take hold when Orlin had found his way into town after meeting and dating a gal from Riesel. After the military stint, Orlin moved back to Minnesota alone.
I had met Orlin at the Lake Marin Ballroom off of Highway 15 just south of Hutchinson. Orlin and his brother, Art, were at the ballroom as I was with several of my gal friends.
That was a beginning of a journey that I am still on today.
Orlin owned and was operating a newspaper in the metro and had come to visit his family in Hector. What’s a couple of Hector fellows to do on a Saturday night when Hector rolled up the streets by eight in the evenings.
Orlin and I struck up a conversation. At the end of the evening, Orlin went back to the metro and I went home with the Raduntz girls I had come with. In time when Orlin found his way to my folk’s farmstead in Boon Lake Township, it was indeed a surprise when his choice of vehicle was a gray 1956 Buick hearse. Hmm. Optimum choice for delivering newspapers hot off of the press.
Orlin met up and got along with my family and I met his parents and family in Hector. It was fall. As winter progressed, and as it is today, travel was not an assured thing, but in time Orlin and I were dating. Orlin’s brother ran the Hector theater. When Orlin came from the metro, our dates generally were visiting each other’s family and then the two of us would take in a movie at Art’s theater. Going out beyond that routine never happened.
By that time I was working in the McLeod County’s Assessor Office doing clerical. I liked my job working with numbers. For myself I thought I had found my destiny working for Wes Abrahm. I rented a sleeping room in Glencoe. With no car, Dad picked me up Friday for the weekend and brought me back on Sunday night. My paycheck was $150.00 clear per month. I had a budget. $1.50 per day for five noon lunches across the street at a cafe. I could fix toast at the rental home for breakfast and I always had half a sandwich left for supper from the noon lunch. Saving up for a car was the plan.
One Sunday night towards the end of January, Orlin surprised me by telling me he was moving back to Texas. He had shut down the newspaper and was making new plans. It took me back. Nothing took me back more when he asked me if I would go with him . . . as his wife. I took that weekend to think about it and visit with my parents.
My parents had wanted to meet Orlin’s family. Orlin’s dad, Art, was a repair man for the machinery dealer in Hector. Orlin’s mom, Esther, was the chief cook at the Hector public school and she cleaned offices in town. His parents were hard working good people, just like Lena and Raymond. My parents had an insight on Orlin’s family. In time the two families got together at the Cat and the Fiddle outside of New Ulm.
February 1st, 1964, Orlin and I were married in a quiet ceremony in the metro. Orlin’s brother and his wife were our witnesses. The 1956 Buick hearse had been loaded with our belongs and we were to leave for Texas . . . that is right after two flat tires needed to be fixed before we left the church.
My fingers are weary . . . to be continued.