Growing up happily in Nebraska in a simpler day and age

By Rennie Philips

Probably most of us, if asked about our childhood, would give a positive response. I know I would.

I would have to go one step further and say I grew up in an almost ideal place to almost ideal parents.

You could say the same thing, and I'd probably believe you up to a point. But honestly, I can't think of much I'd change about growing up in Nebraska.

Were my mom and dad perfect? No, by no means. But they were darn good parents.

Dad was born in 1903; Mom in 1911. So when I came along in 1950, they were 47 and 39 years old, respectively.

One of my two sisters was 16 years older than I was, so in a way, I was raised by parents who could almost have been my grandparents.

Dad was a lot more laid back than Mom, and a lot easier going.

There were days when Mick, my younger brother, and I would be gone riding horses all day.

Mom was probably in a fret, but Dad figured we'd be OK. Most of the time, we were.

Mick and I both have some aches and pains from some of those horse-related incidents.

There were times when Mom and Dad would have a spat, but not real often.

Most of the time, Dad would go do something outside and let Mom fume and fuss in the house.

After a few hours, Dad would come back, and it always seemed like things had worked themselves out.

I can't ever remember them yelling at each other, but by the time I came along and could remember, they had been married for 20 years or so. They were good parents.

Up the road, probably 6 or 8 miles, was where Mom's parents lived.

Grandpa and Grandma lived in an old sod house that was a second home to me and my brother and sisters.

Both Grandpa and Grandma were short. Grandpa was maybe 5-foot-6 at the most, and Grandma was closer to 5-foot.

Grandpa was skinny, and Grandma was plump and round.

They were neat grandparents. I loved to stay up there.

There were times when I got to skip school and go fishing with Grandpa, who always called me Leroy after a cousin of mine.

Leroy and I must have been like two peas in a pod.

But there were a bunch of other families that had an influence on us as we were growing up.

There was a family called the Mahans that lived east of Grandpa's place. We spent a lot of time visiting there.

Then west of Grandpa's place was a classmate, Diane Nielson.

Ted and Mary Fry lived about 2 miles west, and we'd go visit them pretty regular.

Then a valley north of us was Darwin and Shirley.

Off west of them was where my Aunt Johanna and Uncle Bertie lived. I can't remember staying there, but we sure visited them a lot.

I was getting pretty good sized when they got electricity.

Aunt Johanna and Bertie had those old glass lamps all over the house. I thought that was neat. I always wanted one of those to remember them.

Then just west of them was Robert McElhaney and his mom.

She was a great lady, and Robert was a real character.

And then a couple miles west of them was the McMullens.

About 7 miles south of us was the town of Arthur with all of its 175 residents.

Everyone knew everyone, so there weren't any strangers.

We'd go visit the Steinkes or Mrs. Hartman. Now and then, we'd go play with the Dorris kids.

I sure enjoyed their dad, Wilton. He knew about as many local ponds as Dad. That was impressive.

If something was going on and Mom and Dad couldn't be there when we got out of grade school, we'd ride into Arthur with the teacher and then stay at someone's place 'til they got home. No big deal.

It was like everyone was there to help each other and to just be neighbors. But this was true of about everybody.

It seemed like there was almost always someone staying at Mom and Dad's over the weekend or during the summer.

Some of them were cousins, and some were just friends.

Some were my nephews and nieces.

It didn't seem to bother Mom and Dad if there were a few extra mouths to feed.

And with all honesty, Mom would wail on them just like Mick and me if they didn't mind.

But Mom and Dad expected our neighbors to wail on us if we didn't mind.

I think the most scared I've ever been was when Ted Frye gave Suzanne, his daughter, a whipping.

Man, I thought I was next. I figured that 6-foot-7 giant was going to work me over.

Relief! He didn't.

I guess what I've been driving at is there was community back then.

It's a lot the same but different now.

We don't visit like we did back then.

We don't socialize like we did back then.

Back then, you'd look a man in the eye and shake hands, and that was more binding than any paper some lawyer would write up.

Dad never locked a vehicle. He figured if someone came by and needed to borrow it, the keys would be in the ignition.

He always left his gas tanks unlocked.

If someone needed gas, then have at it. They would pay him back the next time they saw him.

I think there were a lot of communities like this all across America back in the mid-1900s.

Today, we have Facebook, which I truly enjoy.

There is a sense of community on Facebook. But honestly, I think we need to go one step further and have a community day where we meet face to face and eat and visit with our Facebook friends. Just a good old-fashioned carry-in dinner.

Have a great week.