Behind the barn sat an old
truck. It may have stopped working there
after one last load of grain was hauled from the elevator or perhaps it was
pulled there by Dad on his old Ford tractor.
It wasn’t planned as a play structure.
Anything moving or not became a game or toy for the five kids in our
family.
The old style of door handle was
shaped like a loop. The semi-circle made
a perfect design for tying a jump rope, one girl would twirl and the other
could jump. With the tailgate up was a
great spot for hide and seek and when it was down we made pirates walk the
plank. We climbed to the roof and we
were out of reach of pesky little brothers and we could see down the rows of corn.
My younger brother practiced his
driving skills by the hour, three years old and already accomplished at driving
a stick. A sister learned the dangers
of smoking, when her pretend cigarette caught fire, it didn’t really catch
fire, her finger just sported a really interesting burn pattern for several
weeks. Mom took the lighter out of the
dash after that particular game, but Jeanie never did take up the smoking habit
again.
My last memory of the old truck was
the warm afternoon Mom, Dad and all the big kids searched the farm for my
younger brother. He’d wandered off. We looked in all the barns and storage sheds. The longer we searched the more frantic our calls. He was finally found sound asleep in the truck, the perfect place for an afternoon nap.
Great memories! I remember having so much fun as a kid with the most random things---our imaginations did the bulk of the work, I suppose! My grandfather had an old horse trailer that became everything from a paddy-wagon hauling dangerous outlaws to a general store with all the cousins taking part. fun!
ReplyDeleteWhat a great set of memories. I loved that you shared a picture. I can see how this old truck provided the support for hours of imaginative play. What could be better than pirates walking the plank. You created a great picture with your words for this reader.
ReplyDeleteIt's interesting isn't it how objects, artifacts can lead to such fine writing. The opening line draws me in: Behind the barn sat an old truck. It's as if I am coming upon the truck having just ventured beyond the barn. Setting seems so important here.
ReplyDeleteIt's interesting isn't it how objects, artifacts can lead to such fine writing. The opening line draws me in: Behind the barn sat an old truck. It's as if I am coming upon the truck having just ventured beyond the barn. Setting seems so important here.
ReplyDeleteGreat post and story about days of youth! My grandfathers' barns held similar adventures and stories. I can still see the hay dust held in the sunlight patterns of light like fairy dust. Also, developed severe hayfever as a child due to the hours spent playing in the barns with my cousins. Good times! Did you ever read the John Grisham book, Rainmaker? It also had an old car but was the playhouse of a grumpy old man and some really mean cats. D :)
ReplyDeleteI grew up on a farm, too. Our old truck was one that my father had driven to the state fair and that by the time I came around only came out during harvest season. I still remember the smell of it when climbing up in the cab. Thanks for the memory!
ReplyDeleteI love this old truck - it would make such an amazing painting. Fabulous that you have a photo of it!! Your memories are amazing, too. Love the image of children playing pirate, walking the plank. So fabulous. Thank you for this!
ReplyDeleteAh, the imagination of children to create a world of play from a structure...
ReplyDeleteI think your post will bring many memories to people. I can just picture you and your siblings as children with such great imaginations...and that truck being there. We did not have a truck...but there was an old hog shed that for some reason we were drawn to...easy to get on the roof and play pirates...etc. I liked your part of escaping from your brothers and watching them in the rows of corn. Those were fun times. Jackie http://familytrove.blogspot.com/
ReplyDeleteI loved reading this. My mom used to tell similar stories of an old car with a rumble that she played in as a kid.
ReplyDeleteWhat a wonderful memory. Is that a picture of the actual truck? Lots of playful hours and adventures.
ReplyDeleteWhat a wonderful memory. Is that a picture of the actual truck? Lots of playful hours and adventures.
ReplyDeleteWhen I started reading, I was immediately drawn in by your words, grain and elevator. My husband if from a KS farming background. My kids (city kids) always loved visiting their cousins in the country and exploring the hay bales, the barns, and enjoying the animals. The picture surprised me because my dad had an old green truck too (but his was a Chevy).
ReplyDeleteAs kids we would play on the steam shovels way behind our house. We were lucky we were never caught or got hurt.
ReplyDeleteOhhhh! I love the stories that are living in that truck!
ReplyDelete