Friesen Story
Collection: Tornado Stories
Title
Friesen Story
Scroll down to view the document; press Ctrl+F (Windows) or Cmd+F (Mac) to search within the PDF file.
Subject
Tornadoes--Hesston (Kan.)
Description
Account by Freda Friesen
"Sent in both Friesen and Hartzler round-robin letters shortly after tornado" -- hand-written note at the bottom the letter.
Creator
Friesen, Freda
Publisher
Hesston Public Library
Date
3/27/1990
Rights
Format
application/pdf
Language
English
Type
Correspondence
Identifier
TornadoStories_Friesen.pdf
Citation
Friesen, Freda, “Friesen Story,” Hesston Public Library, accessed November 21, 2024, https://hesston.digitalsckls.info/item/116.
Text
March 27, 1990
March 13, 1990. 5:00 p.m. Time to head home. The car radio is broadcasting the
news. It’s been one of those days and a quick push of a button gives me uninterrupted classical music. The sky sure is black. As I drive I scan the horizon for funnels. Sure wonder what one really looks like. As I approach Hesston, the black seems even heavier and more ominous. Turning onto Sunset Drive I notice the neighbors are all out in the street looking west. I drive into the garage, carry the groceries into the house and ask Paul why everyone is outside. He has supper nearly ready and comments, "Don’t you hear the sirens?" I listen and I do. He goes out to the back yard and calls me to come and see what a tornado looks like when it touches the ground. We oh and ah and he grabs his camera and goes out front to take pictures. It starts to rain big drops and I call for him to come in. He does but steps out on the back porch and says "That’s the noise they talk about when they call it a freight train." It is loud; real loud! I stay on the porch a minute while he goes to the basement. A sky-to-earth swirl of debris comes around the corner of the
house and I call Paul to come and see. He yells for me to "get down here!" I run
downstairs and together we watch it swirl by—and in. We step back when the glass starts to fly in. Then silence. Total silence.
We walked out to the family room and saw another broken window. We walked upstairs and there was glass everywhere. Broken windows; shingles and 2x4’s in the living room. The hallway a thick glass carpet where our full length storm door had splattered itself. We went from one room to the next. Broken glass and debris everywhere. Back in the kitchen, supper was on the table and it was still hot. We had been in the basement perhaps two minutes. So we sat down and ate supper.
We were half way through our pie when Paul’s nephew Stan knocked and came in.
Grateful to find us okay, we walked around and surveyed the outside. It was not pretty. Stan took pictures and left. Isabelle called. Were we okay? Yes but we had a big mess. She would come and help clean up. Someone else knocked—is everyone here okay? Yes. Chuck stopped by and said he’d help. Isabelle came over. Our mod guys all came. We tried to call Chelle and Cyndi and couldn’t get through. Chelle came and fell apart when she saw it all. Cyndi got through finally and learned we were okay. Betty called to inquire and said Linda had called to say they found Ruth in the ditch.
Isabelle and Chuck cleaned up the glass. I learned what it feels like to be able to do nothing. I brought up the oil lamps and lit them to give some light and a semblance of warmth. More people came; I don’t know who all. Looking out the kitchen window we saw missing roofs all around us. Reports began to filter in.
Betty calls again to say Ruth is dead. Harold is in the hospital; had learned that day he had cancer. He lost everything—his house, sheds, equipment, vehicles, wife. We have a lot to be grateful for.
It’s quiet. It’s dark. The people are gone. Paul and I sit down at the table with the oil lamp for light and pretend to read. We can’t and feel we need to go to Chelle. We walk over to the college (the garage door is destroyed and will need to be removed piece by piece later but we can’t get the vehicles out). It’s dark and eerie. No street lights. No lights in houses. We pass people in the dark and no one says anything. We get to the college and it’s dark. And quiet. No lighted dorm rooms. No radios blaring. The students are huddled in groups in Bontrager Student Center. Someone finds Chelle for us and we huddle. Suddenly Cyndi is with us. We huddle together for a long time. We talk to other students then go over to Dan’s apartment so Cyndi can see that he is okay and he can see that she is okay. They
hold each other a long time. After a few quiet comments we start walking home. In the dark. In the rain. A generator has the downtown section lighted and people are working in the newspaper office. We meet Kirk Alliman and Jim Mininger out surveying the town and learn Kirk has lost his house—all of it. We walk north along Main Street. There are no words to describe it. You’ve seen the pictures.
We go home and go to bed. We sleep in our own beds and are grateful. The Red Cross has set up cots in the high school but only about a dozen people use them. Neighbors and friends with houses have extra people tonight. Wednesday morning we wake up with the ringing of the phone. Ruth needs to know before she goes to work that we’re okay. She was lucky; many others tried and didn’t get through. The phone remains erratic all day.
It’s cold. We get up and dress warmly. I find some canned heat in the cupboard and
we heat some water for coffee. When I try to pour it, the handle turns on the pot
and it all spills. I get another pot and heat some more. This time we get hot water for coffee. We try not to open the refrigerator more than necessary since we don’t know how long we’ll be without electricity. There is still some warm water in the water heater and we use it sparingly. Cyndi must wash her hair though and does it Nepal style.
John and Chuck come to help with clean up. We all help. We pick up and carry. Pick up. Pile it up. Everywhere. Pick up. Pile it up. Gabriel came last night.
Connard comes this morning. He rakes the front yard after it is picked up. Then he
sits at the dining room table. Just sits there and says nothing. He is just getting
over the chicken pox and I encourage him not to overdue. Early afternoon a carload of students come from Tabor. Sixty-five in all. Dozens, maybe hundreds, are here from Bethel College. Hesston College has no classes and the students are out working. Cars stream into Hesston—estimated about 5,000 workers in all. Everyone helping to clean up. We take the car to Newton to get our shattered rear window replaced. Then out to Ruth & Harold’s place. Total devastation. Total. Harold is numbly sitting in Cal’s van. Cal had taken him from the hospital to the church to make funeral arrangements. We climbed into the van and sit and look. Harold says he’s ready to go back to the hospital. Paul stays to look and Cal and I drive him back. He says little, "Why was I left?" Cal takes me home and stays a bit. Paul has brought salad and rolls home for supper. I heat water over canned heat and we have hot soup. After supper Cyndi goes over to the college, taking a thermos and some coffee with her to bring us hot coffee for in the morning. Paul and I build a fire in the fireplace and using our oil lamps for light get warmed up and read awhile before we go to bed.
Thursday morning and the sun is shining. We sit down for breakfast and Dan comes in with our thermos of hot coffee and some rolls from the Doughnut Shop. Cyndi had spent the night in Chelle’s bed at the college. Chelle had gone along with the van to visit EMC as planned. It would be good for her to get away awhile; she was still a zombie. I go over to Isabelle’s to take a shower and clean up. When I get home, the radio is blaring—we have electricity! We drive to Newton to see Harold. He is feeling much better and says the doctor has told him he can leave. Sons David and John are also there along with Cal and one of his pastors. He will go to stay with
John and his family for the weekend at least. We take him some new underwear, socks,
and a shirt. A friend has already arranged for a suit for him. He has nothing
except what he had with him in the hospital. But his mood is greatly improved and we
feel better about him.
What to do first! Where does one start! Paul takes all the storm window frames into
the Glass House for new windows. They have so much extra work they are working around the clock. Kropf Lumber men come to measure for new inside windows. Pastor Fred comes over to visit and tells his story. Everyone has a story and wants to tell it. We talk. We listen. Someone knocks on the back door. "May we turn on the gas?” Of course! He goes down to light the pilot and soon we again have heat. I’ve been vaccuming—vaccuming glass and more glass and more glass. Cyndi’s new senior pictures have cuts where the glass hit. The walls have flying mud splatters, dents from more firm objects. Some cleans up; some doesn’t.
Friday. The brothers start coming. They will sing at Ruth’s funeral and practice here before we all go. They plan to meet at 2:00. At 1:30, a large truck and something else arrive and start to remove the piles of rubble. They are in process when the brothers arrive. All eight are together and their singing is therapeutic.
We go to the funeral home for the funeral. It was to have been a private service for the immediate family. It is packed. The eight brothers sing "Victory in Jesus" and "Take Thou My Hand Oh Father,” the second one in German at Harold’s request. Time is given for sharing and Harold gets up to talk to the children about what has happened. Son John, holding 2-month-old Dorothy, talks. There are no dry eyes. The service is concluded and people file out. The family meets together for a few minutes before we all go to the cemetery for the committal service. The gray skies and cold wind are right. From the cemetery we go to the home site. We walk around. It has already been cleaned up a lot. The quiet is sinister. Individuals pick up a piece of paper here, a piece of dish there, a spindle. Anything that has a semblance of memory. A shatter-proof peanut butter jar is found with the peanut butter swirled along the edges creating a hole in the middle.
We drive to Cross Wind and enjoy supper together. Forty-five of us. Harold gives us a detailed account of the time he and Ruth spent together on Tuesday. Nothing spectacular. But all of a sudden, she seemed in a hurry to leave so she kissed him good-bye and headed home. Then Stan, having gone there from our house, tells what he found. The ambulance was already there; Ruth was lying with her legs in the ditch and head and shoulders on the road. He put his arms around her, held her, kissed her good-bye, then took off for Hillsboro to tell John. John was home alone and right after Stan told him, an uncle also called to tell him. David in Derby was notified and he went to Newton to tell Harold. One of Harold’s brothers was already there and also his pastor. We talk. We listen. We are grateful to be together. We pray. Harold asks that we pray especially that he will know what he’s to do; what the purpose of his being here is.
Saturday. More cleanup. Half houses all around are being bulldozed to the ground. Empty space is growing. Behind us 14-15 basements are covered with plastic where only a few days before beautiful homes had stood. Nick and Mike bring Cyndi from Tabor. Nick and Mike were planning a bike trip to the Ozarks over spring break but have decided to stay and work with MDS all week. They will live with us. Several brothers help Paul put on a new garage door. An MDS worker with a chain saw cuts up the seven felled trees into firewood. By late afternoon the back yard is overrun with Friesens all helping to carry the brush from the cut-up trees away.
At 6:00 Dan & Phyllis bring chili, relishes, bread, cookies, for 35 people. We eat.
We talk. We laugh. It’s a family reunion! Frank and Marvin have been staying with
us. John and Sharon stayed Friday night also. Nick and Mike will stay starting
Sunday night. So the house is full. And lively. And warm! And light!
Sunday morning we go to church. The service is geared to the Tornado aftermath. The church is full of clothing except in the sanctuary. Trucks and trucks loaded with
all kinds of clothing have come. Whitestone Church is a grocery store. I get a call to come and get some. I go. I’ve never done anything like this before but I can use the food with all the extra people around. And I’m grateful.
After appropriate readings and songs, time is given for sharing. It has to be stopped. People are grateful. Many have lost houses, personal possessions. One lady says she still has a home; she just doesn’t have a house to put it in right now. Gratitude is the overwhelming emotion.
The Mennonite Men’s Chorus practices in the afternoon. Paul and Cal go. Frank, Marvin, and John all go to help sing also. They say it is grand! Four hundred men all singing together! Then we go to Alexanderwohl for the men to practice again.
The ladies have prepared faspa for all of us. We eat and visit and continue the family reunion. At 6:45 we move into the nearly-filled sanctuary. The church fills up. The choir files in and leaves an empty chair —where Ruth should have been. The congregation sings "What a Friend We Have in Jesus." I can’t sing for half a verse and then find I truly can sing—we do have a friend in Jesus and the grave isn’t the end! The eight brothers sing the same two songs except in English this time with only one verse in German. The choir sings "Peace, Perfect Peace" and "It Is Well With My Soul." The life scan is read, the sermon is given, and the entire audience stands to sing 606, "Praise God From Whom All Blessings Flow." The big old church echoes with the grandeur of it. We go downstairs for cookies and coffee but mostly to meet all the people and rejoice in Ruth’s graduation.
Monday. Frank and Marv leave for home. Paul, Cyndi and I return to our jobs. Nick and Mike report to MDS. At supper we rehash the day and laugh until our sides ache. The scene is repeated for five days. Nick is sure he is using muscles God never intended to be used. Friday night and the week is ended. Chelle is home for spring break. It is sleeting, thundering, and lightning. We build a fire in the fireplace and eat our pizza in front of it. We play Outburst. We talk. We joke. We listen. We enjoy. We create memories. Pleasant memories.
Sunday morning again. Another very short sermon as sharing time takes up most of the service. Gabriel and Tukura have joined us. Sunday dinner. Nick tells Mike to enjoy it; they’re going back to the college in the afternoon. Mike says, "By 5:00." At 4:45 they load into Mike’s car and leave. We’ll miss them! They’ve worked hard, really hard!
Another week of work. It’s Tuesday, two weeks later. Gabriel leaves today to go with a van to Dallas. Shinsi will join us. Tukura and Shinsi are both from Japan and will stay with us during spring break. Behind us rafters are going up on the apartment house. Across the way a mobile Pizza Hut is making pizzas to go. At Sav-A-Trip the steel is going up for a new store and gas pumps. All over town new roofs are going on, new windows are going in, new carpets are being installed, plans are being made for new houses, and businesses are operating in different locations.
Harold has re-entered the hospital to begin chemotherapy. He says he’s going to win!
And uppermost in the hearts and feelings of everyone, above all the other emotions which have been intense, is the feeling of gratitude. Much, much gratitude.
Original Format
typed document
Title
Friesen Story
Scroll down to view the document; press Ctrl+F (Windows) or Cmd+F (Mac) to search within the PDF file.
Subject
Tornadoes--Hesston (Kan.)
Description
Account by Freda Friesen
"Sent in both Friesen and Hartzler round-robin letters shortly after tornado" -- hand-written note at the bottom the letter.
Creator
Friesen, Freda
Publisher
Hesston Public Library
Date
3/27/1990
Rights
Format
application/pdf
Language
English
Type
Correspondence
Identifier
TornadoStories_Friesen.pdf
Citation
Friesen, Freda, “Friesen Story,” Hesston Public Library, accessed November 21, 2024, https://hesston.digitalsckls.info/item/116.Text
March 27, 1990
March 13, 1990. 5:00 p.m. Time to head home. The car radio is broadcasting the
news. It’s been one of those days and a quick push of a button gives me uninterrupted classical music. The sky sure is black. As I drive I scan the horizon for funnels. Sure wonder what one really looks like. As I approach Hesston, the black seems even heavier and more ominous. Turning onto Sunset Drive I notice the neighbors are all out in the street looking west. I drive into the garage, carry the groceries into the house and ask Paul why everyone is outside. He has supper nearly ready and comments, "Don’t you hear the sirens?" I listen and I do. He goes out to the back yard and calls me to come and see what a tornado looks like when it touches the ground. We oh and ah and he grabs his camera and goes out front to take pictures. It starts to rain big drops and I call for him to come in. He does but steps out on the back porch and says "That’s the noise they talk about when they call it a freight train." It is loud; real loud! I stay on the porch a minute while he goes to the basement. A sky-to-earth swirl of debris comes around the corner of the
house and I call Paul to come and see. He yells for me to "get down here!" I run
downstairs and together we watch it swirl by—and in. We step back when the glass starts to fly in. Then silence. Total silence.
We walked out to the family room and saw another broken window. We walked upstairs and there was glass everywhere. Broken windows; shingles and 2x4’s in the living room. The hallway a thick glass carpet where our full length storm door had splattered itself. We went from one room to the next. Broken glass and debris everywhere. Back in the kitchen, supper was on the table and it was still hot. We had been in the basement perhaps two minutes. So we sat down and ate supper.
We were half way through our pie when Paul’s nephew Stan knocked and came in.
Grateful to find us okay, we walked around and surveyed the outside. It was not pretty. Stan took pictures and left. Isabelle called. Were we okay? Yes but we had a big mess. She would come and help clean up. Someone else knocked—is everyone here okay? Yes. Chuck stopped by and said he’d help. Isabelle came over. Our mod guys all came. We tried to call Chelle and Cyndi and couldn’t get through. Chelle came and fell apart when she saw it all. Cyndi got through finally and learned we were okay. Betty called to inquire and said Linda had called to say they found Ruth in the ditch.
Isabelle and Chuck cleaned up the glass. I learned what it feels like to be able to do nothing. I brought up the oil lamps and lit them to give some light and a semblance of warmth. More people came; I don’t know who all. Looking out the kitchen window we saw missing roofs all around us. Reports began to filter in.
Betty calls again to say Ruth is dead. Harold is in the hospital; had learned that day he had cancer. He lost everything—his house, sheds, equipment, vehicles, wife. We have a lot to be grateful for.
It’s quiet. It’s dark. The people are gone. Paul and I sit down at the table with the oil lamp for light and pretend to read. We can’t and feel we need to go to Chelle. We walk over to the college (the garage door is destroyed and will need to be removed piece by piece later but we can’t get the vehicles out). It’s dark and eerie. No street lights. No lights in houses. We pass people in the dark and no one says anything. We get to the college and it’s dark. And quiet. No lighted dorm rooms. No radios blaring. The students are huddled in groups in Bontrager Student Center. Someone finds Chelle for us and we huddle. Suddenly Cyndi is with us. We huddle together for a long time. We talk to other students then go over to Dan’s apartment so Cyndi can see that he is okay and he can see that she is okay. They
hold each other a long time. After a few quiet comments we start walking home. In the dark. In the rain. A generator has the downtown section lighted and people are working in the newspaper office. We meet Kirk Alliman and Jim Mininger out surveying the town and learn Kirk has lost his house—all of it. We walk north along Main Street. There are no words to describe it. You’ve seen the pictures.
We go home and go to bed. We sleep in our own beds and are grateful. The Red Cross has set up cots in the high school but only about a dozen people use them. Neighbors and friends with houses have extra people tonight. Wednesday morning we wake up with the ringing of the phone. Ruth needs to know before she goes to work that we’re okay. She was lucky; many others tried and didn’t get through. The phone remains erratic all day.
It’s cold. We get up and dress warmly. I find some canned heat in the cupboard and
we heat some water for coffee. When I try to pour it, the handle turns on the pot
and it all spills. I get another pot and heat some more. This time we get hot water for coffee. We try not to open the refrigerator more than necessary since we don’t know how long we’ll be without electricity. There is still some warm water in the water heater and we use it sparingly. Cyndi must wash her hair though and does it Nepal style.
John and Chuck come to help with clean up. We all help. We pick up and carry. Pick up. Pile it up. Everywhere. Pick up. Pile it up. Gabriel came last night.
Connard comes this morning. He rakes the front yard after it is picked up. Then he
sits at the dining room table. Just sits there and says nothing. He is just getting
over the chicken pox and I encourage him not to overdue. Early afternoon a carload of students come from Tabor. Sixty-five in all. Dozens, maybe hundreds, are here from Bethel College. Hesston College has no classes and the students are out working. Cars stream into Hesston—estimated about 5,000 workers in all. Everyone helping to clean up. We take the car to Newton to get our shattered rear window replaced. Then out to Ruth & Harold’s place. Total devastation. Total. Harold is numbly sitting in Cal’s van. Cal had taken him from the hospital to the church to make funeral arrangements. We climbed into the van and sit and look. Harold says he’s ready to go back to the hospital. Paul stays to look and Cal and I drive him back. He says little, "Why was I left?" Cal takes me home and stays a bit. Paul has brought salad and rolls home for supper. I heat water over canned heat and we have hot soup. After supper Cyndi goes over to the college, taking a thermos and some coffee with her to bring us hot coffee for in the morning. Paul and I build a fire in the fireplace and using our oil lamps for light get warmed up and read awhile before we go to bed.
Thursday morning and the sun is shining. We sit down for breakfast and Dan comes in with our thermos of hot coffee and some rolls from the Doughnut Shop. Cyndi had spent the night in Chelle’s bed at the college. Chelle had gone along with the van to visit EMC as planned. It would be good for her to get away awhile; she was still a zombie. I go over to Isabelle’s to take a shower and clean up. When I get home, the radio is blaring—we have electricity! We drive to Newton to see Harold. He is feeling much better and says the doctor has told him he can leave. Sons David and John are also there along with Cal and one of his pastors. He will go to stay with
John and his family for the weekend at least. We take him some new underwear, socks,
and a shirt. A friend has already arranged for a suit for him. He has nothing
except what he had with him in the hospital. But his mood is greatly improved and we
feel better about him.
What to do first! Where does one start! Paul takes all the storm window frames into
the Glass House for new windows. They have so much extra work they are working around the clock. Kropf Lumber men come to measure for new inside windows. Pastor Fred comes over to visit and tells his story. Everyone has a story and wants to tell it. We talk. We listen. Someone knocks on the back door. "May we turn on the gas?” Of course! He goes down to light the pilot and soon we again have heat. I’ve been vaccuming—vaccuming glass and more glass and more glass. Cyndi’s new senior pictures have cuts where the glass hit. The walls have flying mud splatters, dents from more firm objects. Some cleans up; some doesn’t.
Friday. The brothers start coming. They will sing at Ruth’s funeral and practice here before we all go. They plan to meet at 2:00. At 1:30, a large truck and something else arrive and start to remove the piles of rubble. They are in process when the brothers arrive. All eight are together and their singing is therapeutic.
We go to the funeral home for the funeral. It was to have been a private service for the immediate family. It is packed. The eight brothers sing "Victory in Jesus" and "Take Thou My Hand Oh Father,” the second one in German at Harold’s request. Time is given for sharing and Harold gets up to talk to the children about what has happened. Son John, holding 2-month-old Dorothy, talks. There are no dry eyes. The service is concluded and people file out. The family meets together for a few minutes before we all go to the cemetery for the committal service. The gray skies and cold wind are right. From the cemetery we go to the home site. We walk around. It has already been cleaned up a lot. The quiet is sinister. Individuals pick up a piece of paper here, a piece of dish there, a spindle. Anything that has a semblance of memory. A shatter-proof peanut butter jar is found with the peanut butter swirled along the edges creating a hole in the middle.
We drive to Cross Wind and enjoy supper together. Forty-five of us. Harold gives us a detailed account of the time he and Ruth spent together on Tuesday. Nothing spectacular. But all of a sudden, she seemed in a hurry to leave so she kissed him good-bye and headed home. Then Stan, having gone there from our house, tells what he found. The ambulance was already there; Ruth was lying with her legs in the ditch and head and shoulders on the road. He put his arms around her, held her, kissed her good-bye, then took off for Hillsboro to tell John. John was home alone and right after Stan told him, an uncle also called to tell him. David in Derby was notified and he went to Newton to tell Harold. One of Harold’s brothers was already there and also his pastor. We talk. We listen. We are grateful to be together. We pray. Harold asks that we pray especially that he will know what he’s to do; what the purpose of his being here is.
Saturday. More cleanup. Half houses all around are being bulldozed to the ground. Empty space is growing. Behind us 14-15 basements are covered with plastic where only a few days before beautiful homes had stood. Nick and Mike bring Cyndi from Tabor. Nick and Mike were planning a bike trip to the Ozarks over spring break but have decided to stay and work with MDS all week. They will live with us. Several brothers help Paul put on a new garage door. An MDS worker with a chain saw cuts up the seven felled trees into firewood. By late afternoon the back yard is overrun with Friesens all helping to carry the brush from the cut-up trees away.
At 6:00 Dan & Phyllis bring chili, relishes, bread, cookies, for 35 people. We eat.
We talk. We laugh. It’s a family reunion! Frank and Marvin have been staying with
us. John and Sharon stayed Friday night also. Nick and Mike will stay starting
Sunday night. So the house is full. And lively. And warm! And light!
Sunday morning we go to church. The service is geared to the Tornado aftermath. The church is full of clothing except in the sanctuary. Trucks and trucks loaded with
all kinds of clothing have come. Whitestone Church is a grocery store. I get a call to come and get some. I go. I’ve never done anything like this before but I can use the food with all the extra people around. And I’m grateful.
After appropriate readings and songs, time is given for sharing. It has to be stopped. People are grateful. Many have lost houses, personal possessions. One lady says she still has a home; she just doesn’t have a house to put it in right now. Gratitude is the overwhelming emotion.
The Mennonite Men’s Chorus practices in the afternoon. Paul and Cal go. Frank, Marvin, and John all go to help sing also. They say it is grand! Four hundred men all singing together! Then we go to Alexanderwohl for the men to practice again.
The ladies have prepared faspa for all of us. We eat and visit and continue the family reunion. At 6:45 we move into the nearly-filled sanctuary. The church fills up. The choir files in and leaves an empty chair —where Ruth should have been. The congregation sings "What a Friend We Have in Jesus." I can’t sing for half a verse and then find I truly can sing—we do have a friend in Jesus and the grave isn’t the end! The eight brothers sing the same two songs except in English this time with only one verse in German. The choir sings "Peace, Perfect Peace" and "It Is Well With My Soul." The life scan is read, the sermon is given, and the entire audience stands to sing 606, "Praise God From Whom All Blessings Flow." The big old church echoes with the grandeur of it. We go downstairs for cookies and coffee but mostly to meet all the people and rejoice in Ruth’s graduation.
Monday. Frank and Marv leave for home. Paul, Cyndi and I return to our jobs. Nick and Mike report to MDS. At supper we rehash the day and laugh until our sides ache. The scene is repeated for five days. Nick is sure he is using muscles God never intended to be used. Friday night and the week is ended. Chelle is home for spring break. It is sleeting, thundering, and lightning. We build a fire in the fireplace and eat our pizza in front of it. We play Outburst. We talk. We joke. We listen. We enjoy. We create memories. Pleasant memories.
Sunday morning again. Another very short sermon as sharing time takes up most of the service. Gabriel and Tukura have joined us. Sunday dinner. Nick tells Mike to enjoy it; they’re going back to the college in the afternoon. Mike says, "By 5:00." At 4:45 they load into Mike’s car and leave. We’ll miss them! They’ve worked hard, really hard!
Another week of work. It’s Tuesday, two weeks later. Gabriel leaves today to go with a van to Dallas. Shinsi will join us. Tukura and Shinsi are both from Japan and will stay with us during spring break. Behind us rafters are going up on the apartment house. Across the way a mobile Pizza Hut is making pizzas to go. At Sav-A-Trip the steel is going up for a new store and gas pumps. All over town new roofs are going on, new windows are going in, new carpets are being installed, plans are being made for new houses, and businesses are operating in different locations.
Harold has re-entered the hospital to begin chemotherapy. He says he’s going to win!
And uppermost in the hearts and feelings of everyone, above all the other emotions which have been intense, is the feeling of gratitude. Much, much gratitude.
Original Format
typed document
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