My first gem for any miners out there
Once upon a time in 1949 in an ice storm in late January, God set this creature on the earth. God had lots of other things going on, but took the time out of his busy schedule to drop me into a little house on a hill outside of Columbus, Kansas. This was about 10 years after Dorothy and Toto had their big splash of publicity. Not much was made of my appearance. The folks didn't even get around to notifying the state of my official name. My birth certificate still reads "Baby Pierson." This still causes me some concern at times.
Although I have lived in Texas for more than 40 years, I still tell people I'm from Kansas. Something very weird about this I would think. Everytime I go back to Kansas, it looks more and more run down and depressed. Don't get me wrong, there are new and expensive houses being built all over the place, but the old familiar hauntings are looking BAD. It's possible they don't look a whole lot worse than the last time I was there, I just didn't see things as they really were. I've been back there probably 20 times in the last 30 years and oddly enough, I never seem to run into anyone I know in High School. They're still around but I guess they don't get to Pittsburg while I am there.
I have 5 kids and they don't understand why I didn't leave Kansas on the day I was born. After growing up in the fourth largest city in the US, they really don't understand how anyone could live in a town of 850 people and not go crazy. It's not something very easy to explain, you kinda hav-ta have been through it to understand it. No there's not a lot to do (as far as outside entertainment). You may even have to drive 15 or 20 miles to see a movie (in a theater). Professional sports more than 3 hrs away in any direction. Theater, you have to go to Kansas City, MO or Tulsa, OK (I don't want to hear any crap outta NYC about broadway, off broadway, off off broadway, way way far far off off off broadway....I think somewhere in Conn. and not even in NY).
I grew up (formative years) in small town USA, where a handshake and a smile was a binding contract. If you didn't hold up your end of the deal, it stayed with your family for generations, not just for a short time. When I was 15 or 16, I could remember my grandfather telling of a guy that cheated another out of a pig right after WWII (Some 20 years earlier). People in that town would still not deal with him, he had to deal with people from other towns in the area (not that there weren't lots of them 5 to 8 miles apart mostly. The people in the other towns usually didn't have a whole lot to do with other small towns except when relatives were involved, then they knew practically nothing about the town except the part where there relatives were.I guess that is a little strange when I look back. I know when my wife and I and our first 2 kids lived out in the country around Weir, I was accepted totally a local by the towns folk. My Gr-grandparents, grandparents and parents all lived in that town before me. My kids were accepted as home town folk. My wife on the other hand was a outsider because she grewup 12 miles away in Pittsburg. In Houston your can drive 4 times that far and still be in the city limits.
With the large schools, big sub-divisions and general big city of Houston in their up bringing, I can see why my kids have no concept of how their parents grew up. There are more than twice the number of familys (1900) in the subdivision I live in here in Houston than the total population of the town I lived in in Kansas. There was a little fascination with my childhood from my kids because they would sometimes want me to tell a story about some of the stuff Roger (my little brother) and I would do when we stayed with our grandparents during the summers when we were kids.
I wouldn't say all of your kids wonder why you didn't leave Kansas the day you were born. I enjoyed it there when I was a kid.
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Does your birth certificate really still say "Baby" Pierson? I don't remember ever hearing that story before, but I always thoroughly enjoyed hearing stories about you growing up around the farm. I still tell some of those stories you told me to other people. Although I'm sure I mess them up from time to time.
Glad to see you finally got the blog up and running. My site is being moved.
Number four son out.
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Yes, it does still say baby pierson, I didn't think it worth spending the money to have it changed.
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Looking forward to reading more.
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I guess my original reply never made it through.
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I always tell people I am from a town of around 500 people. I guess you should know since you worked for the Census Bureau. I remember when your family moved back to Weir. You and Butch and Roger spent a lot of time at our house. You all introduced me to Justin Wilson. I couldn't understand a thing that man said back then. We had a lot of fun. I was from a big city too and hated living in Weir. It was such a relief to get out of there and move to Houston. I too feel the same way you do about the old town. It is very depressed and there is a new element moving in there now that has changed it from the folksie place it used to be where we left the keys in the ignition of the car and didn't even have a key to the house.
I enjoyed reading this and look forward to more. Good job.
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Bea,
I'm sorry I missed you at dinner last week. I hope we can get together soon. I didn't know you were from a big city. Which one and when did you move to Weir?
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Interesting stories. I can appreciate the beauty of small-town Southeast Kansas after moving away from it and seeing more of the world.
I'm looking forward to reading more of your blogs.
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Chuck,
I definitely relate to this story, even though I'm only in my 29th year of life. I was born in Fort Worth, Texas and lived there (mostly) until I was 11 when my dad moved us to California. Still, to this very day, when people ask where I'm from I tell them Texas. Then, when they realize I've lived in California for 18 years (excluding the 3 I lived in NY), they sarcastically remark that I am a Californian. They couldn't be more wrong. My fond memories of Chocolate shakes and Texas Toast grilled cheese sandwiches from Sonic, chicken fried steak and gravy from Grandy's, sweet tea and peach cobbler, the noises the locusts' would make in the trees at night at my grandparents house in Emory, Texas and the state fair we so religiously went to every year are a continual reminder that I am a Texan, through and through!
I wanted to read your blog from its beginning, so I started here. Looking forward to more!
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