When I saw the column of smoke from ten miles away, I didn't realize it was a house fire.
A completely different situation than twenty two years ago when we got the call on the 2-way from Charlie saying their home was burning. From our house, it was just a thin wisp of gray. But when we pulled into the driveway a few minutes later, the smoke was billowing black, though we couldn't see the flames. No one was hurt that bitter January evening, but of a houseful of memories nothing remained but icy cinders. The next day, they sifted through the ashes for Millie's diamonds, the only things that could have survived the heat.
That was January 1997, just a few days after Christmas when they showed off, as number one fans, their newest Tarkio Indian shirts, personalized for Grandpa Charlie and Grandma Millie.
I've been going through the piles of massive photo albums upstairs, scanning photos both memorable and mundane. In subtle and drastic ways, life is quite different in century 21 even as the milestones we measure and celebrate maintain a recognizable rhythm.
Winter sports dominated our week nights back then...high school basketball...and a few weeks later, after the Homecoming ceremonies, Millie and Charlie got their 'replacement jerseys' from their grandchildren.
Like this year, there were exciting wins and crushing losses, but, more often, we celebrated humble victories and small milestones with ribbons and photos and donuts.
Do you want to do 18 again?
That year Annie came to Washington, D.C. with us: the magnolias bloomed, bison grazed on the Smithsonian lawn and Grandma Millie and Grandpa Charlie got us into the White House after hours. Ann thought it smelled....
It would be decades before we got in there again!
And Josh didn't mention any particular odors....
There were prom pictures that year....and a high school graduation....and someone in the family turned 40....
I've been on 'mustache watch' while I've been peeking into the past, and clearly forty years of life had not yet convinced Blake that facial hair wasn't his best choice.
He wasn't alone.
June and July 1997 gave us birthdays and baseball. June and July 2019 gave us birthdays and baseball....and more baseball....and more baseball...and for a change of pace, some Bach. County Fair 1997 meant stubborn steers that made a hobby of chewing their halters in two, but hogs rule the roost in 2019. Whatever the year, the show ring was chock full of brothers and sisters and cousins.....
In 1997, we sent the first kid to college...
...it wasn't easy.
And just like this year, fall 1997 brought harvest and Homecoming, floats and football, volleyball, and, of course, the Lord's Acre Day parade to remind us to give thanks not just for our crops, but in all things.
It's so easy to be tempted by nostalgia for what appears to be both an easier and happier time. Like the most appealing portrayals on social media, (which didn't exist in 1997!) these photos tend to follow the motto, "I count only sunny hours." We don't remember the records of the 1997 Indians...or the Missouri Tigers....or even the St. Louis Cardinals. Or what the corn yields were or how many times it rained.
We can survive fires and storms; we do count ourselves blessed by babies and birthday cakes and Christmas cookies and all those other iconic bookmarks of photographic history. And we miss those who are with us now only in photographs and memories; we can't help but mourn the past that has passed even as we carry on and build upon it.
With Thanksgiving.....
