LDKBox

For Kellen and Kirk time has stopped.  Almost as if they are traveling along at the speed of light.  Their moment is infinite in a finite time.  Now they are able to have those discussion of what once was and what could be.  Without moving or caring these two souls become absorbed in each others experiences.  Kellen is able to fully absorb the feelings of his Father.  His Father better understands the needs of the youth.

Both become aware at the same instant that their feelings are being experienced by more than the each other.  Neither were concerned.  Merely aware yet comfortable with it.  The feelings simply added to the experience.  It truly means “the more the merrier” in this case.

The family connection is something that cannot actually be controlled.  It is a gift of the Hage Clan.  It was not in Kirk to suffer as to why?  Kellen on  the other hand was a soul full of questions?   Those feelings (spelled questions) were about to become overwhelming when waves of  experience from previous fathers spread over the two of them.  Making their space in time become even slower in this finite set.  Sitting on the bench.  Side by side.  Smiling for the moment.  Gazing into a past that is both of their futures.  It is a rare trait that allows focus on the youth and the father simultaneously .  Although, as has already been mentioned,  the simultaneous focus of two brother”s,  of which KIrk was a part, would show a precedence  of rare, to.. if it ever existed before scenerio?  To believe in the Hage trait one must accept.  The portrait picture of Kellen and Kirk sitting on the bench, frozen in time, and  enjoying the moment is enough for the two of them to accept the gift and continue with life.

As Kellen readied his question to his Father through the requisite feeling wave a new much stronger more demanding wave of feeling came between the two.  It not only caught them off guard but garnered their attention and respect. It was Kirk’s Grandfather Lewis.  He came with an information wave that would help them both.  Such a wonderful thing…the Hage Wave Trait.

Lewis Hage had been an immigrant.  Kirk had spoke of the stories of Lewis living in Norway to Kellen many times.  Making his living as a farmer and a fisherman.  Fighting the elements of Norway and tiring of the battle in the process.  Now that the wave has flowed through them they are able to see the trip that Lewis made from Norway.

Lewis traveled from Norway by steamship  to Riker’s Island in New York.  He was in-processed after signing the departure manifest.  The same manifest that is archived on the internet.  Kirk reminded Kellen of that fact many times in their ten years together. He booked passage on the next available train from New York to the east of side of Iowa.  It was in Eastern Iowa where Lewis  obtained information about land in the Northwest part of Iowa near the South Dakota/Minnesota tri-state borders.  He purchased land North and west of Inwood Iowa.  It was here that he started a family of sons and daughters.  The oldest of which is LLoyd the Father of Kirk.

Lewis wanted to impart a new feeling wave on Kellen and Kirk.  He deemed it necessary  for them to view this information together.  IT is all part of the puzzle of the wave portrait feeling and it s special uses.  Lloyd,  the son of Lewis is part of this process.

Chapter three  A,

Now that time has stopped Kellen and Kirk can see the activities of the day slowing down to a snapshot.  People that were milling are as frozen living statutes.To the north are the buses lined up.   The bus drivers greeting the kids with smiles on their faces.  To the West is the street to the city park replete with community shelter house,  several covered building beside the campsites for tenters as well as RV’s, tractor pull facility and baseball park.  The oft attended ballpark where Kirk spent many glorious moment of his youth.  Kellen got to feel Kirk’s no hitter in Hawarden in Pee Wee baseball,  batting 1.ooo% in Kirk’s freshmen year of high school baseball,  playing on the first undefeated football team in West Lyon history,  and his marriage to Kellen’s Mother to mention but a few.

Lewis wants the two of them to stop focusing on the people of Inwood. ” Those frozen images are yours to keep.  Concentrate.  Focus on where  Lloyd is at.  Concentrate on Lloyd’s wave and feel it!

They are drawn to an image.  Northwest of Inwood, Iowa on the Lewis Hage farm circa 1930′s.  Lloyd is with a bunch of men.  All farmers.  All of similar age. All were engrossed in the viewing of an old Indian motorcycle that had come into the possession of Lloyd.   They were all working together to ready the motorcycle for operating condition.  It was obvious by the activity that no one really knew what they were doing but with enthusiasm alone it was apparent that they were going to preserver and get the engine to pop over.  Once compression could be obtained all were confident that the engine would run.  This is where Kellen and Kirk join the wave of Lloyd and his compadres.

With all of them gathered around the Indian motorcycle, Lloyd finally agrees that the engine has compression.  He stated quite clearly that he was tired of trying to kick start this old engine.

“I want to try something else fellas.”  Lloyd said to no one in particular.  ”Anyone have an idea for me ?”  as he sat astride the old motorcycle.  Virgil Bahnson had been involved with the kick start method and was in total accord with Lloyd thinking about trying a new method when he said, “Ya Lloyd.  it’s always something?”

IT was the spring of the year.  Late April with remnants of snow on the North side of everything.  The  hills towards the river west of of the farm place showed strips of white snow against the green of the pasture grass, tree lines,  and ditches as they gazed down the hill towards the creek in the back pasture.  Together it was deicded that they were going to use the push start method to get the old motorcycle to run.

Quickly the motorcycle was pushed through the open pasture gate, Virgil followed him, and the rest of the gang after that.  Kellen and Kirk have a clear image wave of the happening.   Many good men in that group.

Lloyd,  the father of Kirk.  Owner of the motorcycle stands six foot high.  His reddish locks are curly(which brings a giggle to both Kellen and Kirk because Kirk and Lloyd both end up being bald).  Lloyd has a vibrant voice and a hearty laugh.  His laugh could be heard over many voices in a crowd.  It was clear that when LLoyd Hage laughed he was really enjoying himself.

Virgil, was of a small build.  Although shorter than some he made up for it  with tenacity and natural athletic ability.  Virgil was a guard on an Inwood basketball team during those years.  He went on to play a barn storming basketball game with the Harlem Globetrotters and Inwood won.  He has a sandy head of hair with blue sky eyes that never miss a trick

Lloyd has now positioned the motorcycle on the cowpath the milk cows will soon be using when called for the evening milking.  The west pasture is quite steep  past the mix of  apple,  Oak , Walnut, and  tree’s considered a windbreak amoungst the poplars. With the snow banks on his right and the fresh green grass sprouting  on the left  the cow path headed west down the hill towards the creek that flows into the Big Sioux River a few miles further to the west through the rolling hills of Blood run.  With the setting sun in their faces they stop and ponder  their actions.

Virgil was the first to ask.  ” What do you think, LLoyd?  How are we going to do this?”

Standing astride the motorcycle facing the sun to the west,  Lloyd cast big shadow back to the fellows of the group as he stood in the late afternoon sunlight.  A natural leader.   He was forced into managing a working farm years before he would be called a man.  Force into adult hood while still a teenager.  Now he stood looking down the hill at the creek below. ” Was this a proper thing to do?” he thought to himself.  Of a sudden while in his pondering moment astride the motorcycle atop the hill on the steep cow path to the creek the feeling waves start to come over him.  He is not sure what to do?  All those young years where he was forced to make adult decision while still a teenage came to a head.  He was completely aware of the dangers.  His adult self says no. His youthful self says go ahead.  The wave is having it effect.

He makes his decison and states to Virgil.”Get the boys and have them help us push this thing to get it started right now.”   Each started motioning for the others to get  into postion to aid in the push down hill.  LLoyd takes the stick shift for the transmisson in his hand then places it in the second of three gears.  His thought was that it would turnover easier and still have enough power to fire the pistons. Well he was right.  Sort of…?

The feeling wave is getting his unconscious attention.  Something is warning him.    The wave is filling him.   It is mixing him up.  He is not used to questioning his own decisions.  He motions for all to push the motorcycle.  Virgil sounds the charge as if leading the group up San Juan Hill with Teddy Roosevelt. Together the boy’s quickly push the motorcycle down the trail.  Just as quickly the boys trailed off with Virgil, the fastest of the bunch, the last to to make the final push for Lloyd  who remained atop the Indian motorcycle headed down the cowpath, of the west 80 acre pasture,  towards the creek which is flowing full from the April showers,  and the warm sun that is melting the winter blanket of snow.

Now the fathers of the Hage clan send feeling wave after feeling wave to show Lloyd the error of his ways.  The creek is flowing full. The small walk bridge at the bottom of the hill is to rickety for a touring motor bike to with stand the impact at road speed.  The path is slightly wet at the bottom of the hill thus not facilitating proper ground contact of the wheel to the ground to move the wheel that make the transmission move to turn over the engine that will fire the piston to make the engine run.

With the clutch disengaged  the wheels are  free wheeling down the hill.   Lloyd can hear the voices of encouragement from  his friendsback by the groves tree lined fence.  The years of feeling wave  from the Hage clan envelope him.  All of his senses are telling him to not let the clutch out.  His fingers were trembling slightly fighting the feeling wave of the Hage clan as it coursed through his body.  ”Why is this wrong?” he thought in his head.  ”What is this feeling that is beckoning me to jump?  Would I not be better to release the clutch to turn the  rear wheel to fire the engine?”  He has reached his maximum speed and the ground is streaking with wet spots.  Some slicker than others.  He has seen this but is not aware.   It is now or never  and as slowly released his grip on the clutch,  It was this tentativeness that started the epic fail.

As he slowly released the clutch the wheel did try to grab some traction.  This action allowed the wheel to slide to the ride bringing the motorcycle perpendicular to the walking wood bridge that the cows used to cross the over flowing creek.  At that moment the Hage Clan feeling wave presence was felt.  With all of his might Lloyd pushed up and to the left as the motorcylce started going down on it’s left side.  The Hage clan feeling wave gave him extra strength to push up and away from the out of control motorcycle.  With the aid of the Hage clan Lloyd managed to land on his feet.   Avoiding any contact with the flowing creek at the bottom of the hill.  IT cannot be said of the old Indian motorcycle .  IT slid right into the base of the bridge and completely demolished the old rickety bridge.  The cows will have to ford the stream this date.

Now all of the fellows are running down the hill.  Some are laughing.  Most are concerned .  All can see that Lloyd managed to avoid any injury so the worry was about the bridge and what Grandpa will say.

That was Lloyds introduction into the Hage clan feeling wave.  It made Kellen and Kirk continue to smile in their moment of frozen time within the Hage clan feeling wave.

Comments (0) Nov 04 2011

Kirk and Kellen  sat on the bench for long moment savoring the connection or bond that the two of them now shared.  The yoonger son is wondering what this will do and the older  man is wondering how he will do the things that will be necessary in the days, weeks, months and years ahead.

The connection between father’s and son’s of the Hage clan goes back centuries. IT is not known how it was accomplished but the Hage genes give the ability to silently communicate between father and son.  A feeling can become a request.  A willful thought can be curbed.  The father of Kellen has already had his day of connection.  He remembers the day that the connnection was made between Kirk and his grandfather Lloyd.

Kirk was about ten years old when the connection was made.  Kirk had been attending grade school and had been returned home by the local school bus.  The yellow 60 passenger school bus rumbled down the country roads bringing up dust each mile it travelled.   The dust softly settled down and blew away when the bus eased itself to a gentle stop to let the children off at their homes.  When Kirk step down onto the road after exiting the bus he waved to the students and to the driver as they left.

As Kirk turned to go towards the house he could see that his father’s yard was ripe with the activities of a corn harvest .  He could see the whole yard spread before him.  The house on the left was a large two story .  The top floor had a balcony on the south side and a sunporch on the North. The main floor had an entry balcony/covered porch on the south side that was little used.  On the east side  a new addition had been added to the Northeast corner of the building giving access to the addition with a nice concrete set of steps with wraught iron bar hand rail on each side.  The home was all covered with white aluminum siding that was still wearing strong.

In the middle of the yard was the light pole for night work.  On the pole were the power meters for the farm.  The shop was just north and slightly to the east of the house.  In it were all the tools that Kirk’s father had accumulated during his career as a farmer.  It was a simple shop as was his fathers mechanical ability but his efforts were always the subject of the neighbors since Lloyd seemed to never plant his crops the same way twice.

To the east of the house and the light pole were the  blue glass lined steel silos that A.O.Smith and Harvestor silos built the year that Kirk was born.  These silos held the food for the aninals that Lloyd purchased and raised for a living and a profit during the early 60′s.  Kirk could see the hired men moving tractors and wagon into position to attempt to blow the silage that had been chopped by the Gehl harvester being pulled through the field by a tractor with a wagon in tow.  One hired man was pulling away from the blower to return to the field to gather another load of silage from my father who was operating the forage harvester.

The second hired man was sitting on a 520 John Deere tractor when he motioned to the boy walking down the driveway after existing the bus from school.  Kirk meandered his way, Family Circus style, going from point to point as if each stop was something important and valuable at each turn.  The hired man finally motioned more frantically to the boy.   It wa determined then that Kirk better get his butt moving and see what the man wanted.

Dave,the hired man, was  35 years old.  He had dark hair that was mottled and thick.  H wore a cowboy hat which was unusual for our area.  He was a western South Dakota cowboy that had come to the big city of Sioux Falls, SD. to seek employment.  He had heard of the work on our farm through an advertisement that Kirk’s father had placed in the Sioux Falls Argus Leader.  At  five foot ten inches he was of average height but severely over weight.  He definitely has had one to many beers each night to acquire such a prominent beer belly. He really had a  big belly overhang. It was funny to watch him waddle with all the extra weight  while slipping between tractors, wagons, silage blower belt, pulley’s and pto shafts of all of the implement that were needed to blow the silage into the blue harvestor silo.

When Kirk approached the hired man it was Dave that started the conversation.  ”Hi there Kirk!  Glad to see you home from school.  Your Dad wanted me to get you to help me when you returned from school today.  I would like you to help me unload this wagon of silage so I will be able to go and feed the cattle.  Would you please  unload this load of silage for me.”

Kirk had unloaded silage on several occasions with his father but had never attempted to unload a wagon all by himself.  It made Kirk feel proud that his father trusted him enough to let him work like a man yet  still only a child.  That was often the way of it during those days.  Farm children worked and they usually worked hard.

“Sure Dave, I will do it for you. You go on.  I will finish this load up for you while your in the steer pen.” said Kirk as he looked at all the machinery .

Dave said, “I have everything set up and ready to go.  I will start the blower up.  You go to the back of the wagon and start raking silage into the hopper of the blower.”

As Kirk turned to the east he could see the Brown Swiss milk cows standing in the cow yard wishing,  for that moment at least,  that they were steers.  They knew that silage was soon to be feed the steers.  They always stood at the fence yearning for the fresh molasses spiked corn silage feed.  Mooing in an awful  mournful fashion.  He didn’t feel bad for the cows.  He knew that he would be feeding the cows ground corn and protein by hand when he went to the barn to milk the four cows later on that afternoon.

Where approaching  the end of the wagon,  Kirk picked up the the four pronged silage rake.  He began to move material into the hopper.  Once on the rubber tread mill like machine it headed toward the spinning hammers on the  blower and was soon out of sight and headed to the top of the silo.  As he worked on the load  from the Roorida silage wagon into the hopper Kirk’s little brother Karl came out of the house.

Karl, was four at the time.  Average height but slightly rollie-pollie.  He had blonde hair underneath an old baseball cap that had been worn by all the Hage boys of the family. It was weather worn but something that Karl was proud of since his Dad and brother all wore the same hat.   Karl like to wear his bib overall because his father wore them everyday.  This day wa no exception and his bibs were on and he was proud.  You could see it in the walk as he approached his brother Kirk standing on the ground at the end of the wagon dragging silage out of the wagon and into the hopper of the blower.  Karl said to Kirk. “What are you doing?  I don’t think Daddy would like it that you are unloading silage wagons.”

“It will be OK.”  Kirk said.  Dave needed to feed the cattle and still get back to the field to gather up another wagon for Dad.  It is safe enough if I keep my hands away from moving parts.  Why don’t you carefully go back to the tractor and sit on the seat until I finish unloading this wagon.   We can move the tractor and wagon together.”

“Ok, Kirk I will be careful.  Hurry up and finish.  I love driving the tractor.” Karl said as he smiled impishly and scurried off to the tractor seat to await his brother.

Upon finishing up the loaded wagon Kirk needed to shut down the blower tractor.  Normally he would walk towards the front end of the silage wagon tractor.  Keeping him away from all moving parts that could catch his pants or sleeves.  But today he was in a hurry.  Karl was anxious to drive the tractor.  So instead of going to the front end of the silage wagon tractor Kirk decided to cross over the PTO bar that drives the mechanism for the silage wagon. (it must be noted that the shear pin on this wagon was a 16 penny nail instead of a bolt and the shaft did not have a rolling shield which is the standard safe practice of industry these  days.)

Karl was attentive and watched as Kirk did his tasks.  When Kirk decided to cross over the PTO shaft of the silage wagon Karl released a hold of the steering wheel,  turned his body 180 degrees, and knelt on the John Deere tractor seat to gain better access to watchn  his older brother.  Kirk was smiling and acting like a self important ten year old kid showing off to his little brother.

Kirk turned and stepped on the left side from of the rear end of the tractor to gain a little height to cross over the spinning shaft of the silage wagon tractor.  Normally one would shut off the silage wagon tractor then jump down and turn off the blower tractor.  Then jump back down and return to the silage wagon tractor.  Then drive away.  Not this time.  Because Karl was in the seat of the silage wagon tractor Kirk did not want to bother Karl so he decided to cross over the turning PTO shaft that had a shear pin that had been replaced with a bent nail.

Kirk had taken all the steps to cross over the PTO shaft.  His left foot clear of any obstruction as he placed his  left foot on the transmission frame hooked to the rear end and the drawbar.  Lifting his right leg over the PTO shaft and placing his right foot on the frame of the tractor transmission on the right side.  Once in this position Karl and Kirk are face to face.  It was at this position that Kirk felt a tug at his right pants leg.  It did not hurt at that time but it was a persistent tug.  IT was happening all so quickly.  The tug. Then it was a slam.  Now the rubbing was beginning.  Kirk did not have time to react.  He was being pulled down by the action of the PTO shaft that had a nail for a shear pin.  The shear pin had caught the pant leg and was now pulling it and Kirk between the PTO shaft and the draw bar of the tractor.  This was a space of less than one foot.  Kirk knew that he was going down and could do nothing to stop it.  To late to do anything Kirk held firm in his position and Karl of a sudden turns and shuts the PTO shaft off in the nick of time.  Just as he shut off the PTO on the tractor the pants had finally been ripped off of Kirk’s body exposing the rub mark burn on his left leg where the shaft had been rotating under power of the tractor.

It was this event that first introduced the boys to the trait that is inherent in all the Hage men.  Voices of the father communicated that date to two brothers and one Grandfather.  No one heard a thing.  It was felt.  Karl received a feeling. It was the thing to do.   Shut off the PTO drive.  Do it now.  Kirk felt it but ddi not say it.  Karl felt it and acted on that feeling.  Kirk was saved by a grandfather helping his grandchild.  The guiding angel that only communicates through feelings.  The special trait or bond of the Hage clan has been introduced to the two brothers but they will not actually know about the trait till many years later.  Never the less the bond has been made with the grandfather and two grand kids.  That is the way of the Hage clan.  They feel without knowing and understand without question.  Between the two of them they know.  It is a special trait.

Comments (0) Nov 02 2011

It was the start of October on a typical fall afternoon in Iowa.  Many days of similar feel have been experienced by the 600 residents of the little farm town in Northwest Lyon county over the years.  The wind is constantly changing in speed and direction.  The sun is glowing warm .  Temperatures resting the high 60′s with the afternoon settling into a warm and glorious day.  Which is typical for this little town.

Sitting in front of the post office is a little bench.  On this bench a person can view the main street of Inwood.  To the south is the business district with fifty businesses.  The bank has a new building to serve the people.  There is a bar and a restaurant.  A True Value Hardware store, a four lane bowling alley, two grocery stores, several feed mills for livestock, service stations and repair shops, hairdressers and blacksmith shop.  There is a dentist and a doctor office on each side of main street.  A weekly newspaper, boarding house, a plumbing contractors office, and a used car lot.

To the north is the residential section.  Streets lined with oak, ash and walnut trees.  Everyone had at least one evergreen and some had hedges surrounding the garden that had vegetables and fruits, surrounded by a green lawn.  Iowa soil will always produce something if given any water at all.  Such wonderful soil.  The soil is not black and it is not yellow but an earthy grey brown tone that allows the rain  water to filter through the soil to reach all the roots of the beans and corn of the surrounding area. The water is held for later use by the clay that is underneath all the topsoil.

Farming is the life blood of the area.  The post office is the central place that everyone comes to meet and greet.  The conversations could get  a little heated in this friendly little spot.   Everyone was equal at the post office.  Everyone was there for the same thing.  Word from the outside.  You know places like Des Moines, Sioux Falls, Minneapolis, and Omaha.  The big towns of the midwest.  The bench in front of the post office was the scene of many of these converstations.

Sitting on the bench on this fall day is Inwood resident Kirk Hage.  Although born in the area,  he is one of the many that left seeking what ever it is that people go out and look for then return later in life only to realize that it was all right in front of them.  He comes everyday to the post office.  He checks his mail each time and has many conversations with the locals but he has other  motives for securing his seat in front of the post office.  Not only does he get to meet and greet locals he is able to observe the coming and going of the children as they pass from school classes  to the gym which is on the corner directly east of the post office bench.  He sits,waits, and watches for the son that came late into his life.  The son that attends the school across the street from the post office bench where Kirk is sitting.  It is here at this bench that Kirk is going to see his life in a different way.

IT has been his habit for years to dress in working attire consisting of khaki shirt and pants with white white socks and brown Romeo fisherman slip-on shoes.  The clothes fit well on the six foot two inch frame.  His body still stands erect and walks true.  The years of wear and tear show in the etching of the furrowed brow. His hazel colored eyes have a light that truly only shines when he sees his son.  To others the light cannot be seen.  His voice is like a screeching horned owl.  The after effects of treatment for tongue cancer years earlier. His hand are thick, broad, and strong from his work as a construction worker now retired.  No longer callused and cut from years of disuse.  The scars still show the wear that the the years have wrecked up them.  Battered but not broken his hand reaches out to anyone.  When you get finished shaking hands with Kirk you know your hand has been shook.

The activity  on the street is starting to build since school is soon to be dismissed.  It is a normal activity for the town residents to meet and greet each day around the time of school dismissal.  Kirk always arrives early to sit and enjoy the beautiful weather, the fall foliage, and flowers while waiting for his son.  It is funny how Kirk sits and waits for his son and the Anderson’s, Bahnson’s, Johnson’s, Jenson’s and Knudson all were waiting for their sons as well.  It always brought a chuckle to Kirk when he thought about all of the sons in Inwood.  Some how he was glad that his name was Hage and not Lloydson or Kirkson.  It could have been his name if his family had used an old tradition of adding “son” to the end of the first name of the father.

As the big bell rings on the south side exterior wall of the big red brick school house Kirk notices his son is first to get out out the door.  He is easily seen.  His thick raven black hair  is a striking contrast to all the blonde headed kids that were surrounding him as he exited the building and walked toward his father sitting at the bench beside the post office.  As was his custom Kirk did not rise when Kellen approached the bench.  He merely said, “Hey buddy!  How are you doing?”  As Kellen would lean down,  give his dad a hug,  then sit beside him at the bench and say, “Hi Dad, boy it was a tough day.”

“Why is that?” Kirk asked.

“I don’t know Dad?  It is hard to learn all of this stuff that the teacher try to teach me.” he said as he looked at the other kids getting into cars and busses heading home for the day.  ”I think it is hard to get along with kids in school and at recess.  They call me names and make fun of me because I cannot run very fast.”

What do you do about it, Kellen?  his father asked

His face lit up when I asked that question.  It was very apparent that Kellen liked to see interest in the eyes of his father because of his question.  ”I try to throw them off with something witty.  A laugh always seem to throw them off guard so they leave me alone as long as I keep them laughing.   I am always picked last because I am so slow.” he said as he bowed his head in embarrassment.

His father said, “Do you want to talk about it, Kellen?”

“No Daddy, I don’t think you can understand my problem?” Kellen answered.

” You think that because I am old I would not understand about how it is to be a kid?  Kirk said as he looked hard at the boy with the cherub face with worldly thoughts in a childish fashion.  Typical kid of the day.  High tech but not much interest in the rural industry of farming and the physical work that it takes to be a farmer.  ”Do you have time to listen to a story befoer we get into the pick up to go home?”

Kellen picked up his head and a smile came upon his face when his eyes refocused onto his father and said, “Daddy, now is not the time for one of your stories.”

Kirk had heard this before from his son.  This was a game that we had played since he was born. It is part of their humor to say things that are really outrageous.  It is outrageous of Kellen to say to his Father that now is not have the time to listen.  We always have time to listen if we choose.  Underneath it all Kellen really wants to hear the story.  Many times through the years he had been told as he  headed out the door that there would be a call to the neighbors that he was going to visit to make sure that he did not have any fun while he was out playing.  Between the two of us he knows that I will never call to check on him for not having fun.  He knows that the intent of his father is for him to have as much fun as possible.    So his answer was typical of their interaction .

“Well,  we will just will have to make time, Kellen.  Now won’t we?”  Kirk said as they both smiled and settled into the bench in front of the post office after a long day at school.

“You know Kellen,  hard as it is to believe , I was once a young man just like yourself.  I went to the same school that you are attending.  I can remember the day in fifth grade When Mr. Johnson lined us all up in PE class to do the first presidential fitness test enacted by  President Kennedy.  It was an exciting day for all of the kids to have a class where all we had to do was exercise and have fun.  Kind of like a recess but with a teacher.  Or so we thought?   After our warm up of jumping jacks , sit ups, push ups and stretching we stood in line waiting as each kid was timed and counted.  Every one picked a partner.  While one partner was doing sit ups the other partner would hold their feet down.   Then they would count the sit-ups while Mr. Johnson would man the stop watch to time each exercise.  When it came time for the 50 yard sprint it was abundantly clear that I was the slowest in the classes because Mr Johnson  announced the time of each contestant as they crossed the line.  So everyone not only heard the results announced by Mr.Johnson they could see that I was more  than a second and a half slower than the fellow I raced against who happened to be the fastest guy in the class.  I will never forget Mr Johson announcing the results. The fastest runner was Don Metzger and the slowest runner was me.  I do not know why Mr. Johnson found it necessary to announce the slowest runner in the class.  Everyone got a good laugh out of it.  It is the first time that I remember being embarrassed in public.  So I think I understand how you feel Kellen.”

The two sat  on the bench in front of the post office that afternoon as the school was dismissed with a smile on their faces, a glow in their hearts, and lost in the moment .  Each into their own thoughts.   Kellen dreaming of his future world through his Father’s eyes.  His father reliving his past world through his sons eyes.  Time has stopped for the two of them.  Each is living a dream.  Different dreams but the same trait.  It is this trait that keeps them coupled.  Secure in the fact that only the two of them can share this feeling.  It was instilled in Kirk by his father who had recieved it from his father.  It has now officially been handed down to Kirk’s son.  They see each others visions with out even being aware.   It is this connection that all Fathers in the Hage line share.

Comments (0) Nov 01 2011