A JOURNEY ALONG THE RED DIRT ROAD, MY STORY

I was born in Kansas City, Missouri and grew up in Norman, Oklahoma. Good public schools and access to the University of Oklahoma had drawn my grandparents to Norman in 1920. They viewed education as the key to better opportunity. By the time of my birth, those hard times that defined Oklahoma during Great Depression had been replaced by considerable optimism and prosperity, at least in Norman. My home was within a few blocks of the main campus. Like most of my friends and family, I was a diligent student and predestined to attend college at OU.

Upon graduation, with a major in English and a minor in Journalism, I struck out on my own to accept a teaching position in Houston. In spite of the miserable heat and humidity, Houston expanded my horizons. Here, I met my husband, gave birth to our child, and spent several rewarding years teaching 8th grade English before co-founding a group of travel agencies with my husband. Those travel agency years were always interesting, and thanks to our dedicated employees, the business grew and was respected for its attention to customer service. After seventeen years in Houston, we were exhausted. We were hungry for a four season climate, fewer seven-day work weeks, and a more family-friendly lifestyle. We sold the business, and in 1987 it was off to the place of my birth, Kansas City.

If Houston was hard, Kansas City was delightful. Over the course of thirteen years, I enjoyed a career in the field of educational publishing, we raised our son, became involved in civic activities, and forged some lasting friendships. My career ended abruptly, due to a series of mergers and acquisitions. We were empty-nesters now, and my husband was offered a nice promotion that required us to relocate to the D.C. area.

Our new home was in the historic Eastern Panhandle of West Virginia, about an hour west of Washington. This spot of heaven in the upper Shenandoah Valley was to be our home for the remainder of our years. It offered natural beauty, cultural opportunities, good friendships, civic involvement, retirement, and easy access to our grandchildren in Washington. What could go wrong? Our son and daughter-in-law did exactly what my grandparents did so long ago. They sought a community with better schools for their kids and better opportunities for themselves. The place - Overland Park, Kansas.

After a couple of years, we followed and are happy to be back in the Midwest. Once again, we are close to our dearest ones and their pets, projects, and shenanigans. We live in far west Olathe, and the window of my study looks out on what was an old farm with a primitive grass runway. Occasionally, the sweet lady who owns the place will taxi her small airplane to the end of the runway, finish her coffee, and go up for a spin around the countryside. I am inspired by my new setting and am more than ready to share a few tales.