"The
trip to Protection was a memorable one.
Jim Basore accompanied me as far as Wichita--accompanied my snores that
is. At Wichita Union Station I made a
beeline for a bench in the waiting room-my bed for the night. Jim called his brother-in-law; then stretched
out on the adjoining wooden bench.
Vaguely I remember prying open one eye to bid Jim goodbye. In a flash it was 5 a.m.. I was afraid to go bak to sleep; so I got up
for a snack of breakfast soon after--then the Protection-bound doodle-bug at 6.
Three other teachers and Melba Maris, a senior, were aboard. Apparently my powers of slumber amazed
them. The four-hour journey out to these
regions of the plains seemed remarkably short to me. They complained of the rough ride--the bumps
which awakenedthem--and each time they glanced in my direction to see a sound
sleeper."
--Letter
from my father, Protection, Kans., to my mother, Winfield, Kans., evening,
Sunday, November 9, 1947. Two typos per original typewritten letter.
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