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Chuck Hinman: IJMA. Running Away From Home

Chuck Hinman: Running Away From Home Chuck learns "there's no place like home" and never forgot it.
Next earlier Chuck Hinman column - Good Ol' Homemade Chicken And Noodles

By Chuck Hinman

Running Away From Home

I was a little boy, about seven years old (1929) growing up on our farm in Nebraska.

It was winter and the snow was deep. Most everyone was taking a Sunday afternoon nap. I had gotten in a scrap with my brother Bob, who was two years older than I. I invariably got the worst of any confrontation with him. So in between sobs, I announced for the world to hear, that I was RUNNING AWAY FOREVER!


No one cared or even noticed as I loaded my school lunch bucket with cookies. No one cried or begged me to change my mind! Dad seemed unconcerned that his second oldest son was leaving home FOREVER as he snored away on the divan with the newspaper over his face.

Sense enough to dress warmly

I had sense enough to dress warmly. I had my four-buckle overshoes on as I left out the back door. I really was boo-hooing as I trudged down the driveway with my dinner-pail in hand and with Sport, our dog, leading the way. I realized he was my only friend.

I kept looking back to see if Mom or anyone, had come to the door to plead with me to change my mind! My resolve to run away lessened with each step; I wisely decided to think it over!

I crawled through the fence into our neighbor's field just behind the hedge-row that bordered his farm. I decided to hunker down in a snow-drift where I could watch to see what frantic efforts were taking place at home when they discovered I was serious!

And there were none.

Sport licked my tears as I cried my eyes out. "Get out dog, your breath stinks!"

Time passed slowly and the warmth of the house was missing

Time passed slowly and even though I was dressed adequately, I LONGED for the warmth of the house! I could see the smoke curling out the chimney and it looked so inviting! Sport had long since gone home for lack of activity. I was alone and I hated it!

My thoughts focused on how to return home, get back in the house and rejoin the family. I was hoping no one remembered that I was gone.

I've got it! I headed straight for the hen-house and gathered the eggs in my stocking cap. I boldly entered the back-door trying to act cheerful and especially like I hadn't been gone.

I announced in a loud voice, "I gathered the eggs for you Momma!"

"That's a nice boy Chuck; put them in the egg-crate in the vestibule for Momma!"

Glad to be part of the family again

What welcome words! I approached Bob and asked if he wanted to play some Caroms! He said, "Yeah, I get to crack 'em!" I didn't even argue -- I was so glad to be part of the family again! Dad made a funny gurgling noise as he snored. Bob and I snickered. Mom and baby sister Joy Ann were having fun popping popcorn in the kitchen.

I learned as a little Nebraska farm boy "there's no place like home" and I've never forgotten it in all my years.

Written by Chuck Hinman. Emailed: 22 December 2010.



This story was posted on 2013-03-17 06:05:55
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