The Writer's Pen

There are moments in my life that stay with me for no apparent reason. Some are national events that everyone seems to know about, and some are personal events no one knows about. There are also moments I can’t remember, but others won’t let me forget.

I have been around for several decades of our nation’s history, and probably the first big news story I remember was the Russian launch of Sputnik. There was a lot of talk about a Cold War and a space race, but as a young boy, I didn’t understand it. I remember my imagination running wild while looking at the sky trying to determine if the Russians were watching me.

The next big news story I recall was the assassination of President Kennedy. I remember hearing it over the loud speaker while attending high school. Teachers and students were all stunned, nobody was talking, and some were crying. It was a new and upsetting experience for all of us! Though it was a time of turmoil in our country, in some ways it brought people together in ways no one could imagine.

Probably the biggest national event in my lifetime was the terrorist attack on Sept. 11, 2001. My wife, Rita, and I were taking a few days of vacation, and were planning to go to the Clay County Fair on the 12th. I was doing yard work all day, and decided to go to Casey’s for lunch. As soon as I stepped inside I knew something was wrong – but what? Nobody was moving or talking. I took my pizza to the counter, and the manager gave me my change and muttered, “Worst day ever!” I turned on the radio in my pickup where I learned of the morning’s events. We went to the fair the next day, and everyone was glued to radios and televisions in the buildings. It was more like being at a funeral than being at a fair. It was an event that changed and affected everyone!

Some events in my life were not nearly as noteworthy. I recall once when my grandparents were staying with us when our parents were gone. My grandma was getting us together to go inside for supper, and while we were waiting for my grandpa, a big bird flew over and bombed me. I had a warm white streak that started at my jaw and worked its way down. My siblings were all gagging, so my grandma tried to clean me up. Suddenly, my very stoic grandpa started laughing. Grandma gave him a look and said, “It’s not funny!” He tried to stop, but then my brothers joined in. Soon they were all laughing, even my sisters and Grandma. I guess I was the only one who didn’t see the humor of bird poop all over my face and clothes.

Another memorable event in my life happened when my daughter, Melanie, was born. Her older brother, Justin, had cost me an entire night’s sleep waiting for him to arrive. With that in mind, I wasn’t too concerned when Rita told me it was time to go to the hospital. After all, I was playing basketball with two neighbors, one of them a teenager, and I was winning! I had no letters in the game of “horse,” and both of those guys were up to the letter “s.” Rita had other ideas since she had testified in a trial that afternoon, and was forced to maneuver several steps in the courthouse. I guess that got things going, because Melanie was born less than two hours after she pulled me out of that rousing game. Melanie’s birth was mentioned in the court proceedings the next day, but my basketball prowess was somehow overlooked.

My five siblings and I were born in a span of eight years. Things like confirmations, graduations, weddings and having babies all happened in bunches. Consequently, it was difficult for my siblings to spend time together. One afternoon, though, my brothers and I were able to get away for a few hours of fishing. We took some beer and snacks, and were hoping to catch enough fish to fry for supper. We built a fire on a secluded lake near our farm and started fishing. It was getting dark, and since the fish weren’t biting, the beer started flowing. We saw headlights coming toward us and somehow knew it was a sheriff’s vehicle making its rounds. My brother, Bruce, chose that time to tell us he didn’t have a fishing license. Me, being the oldest, said “Hide your fishing rod, and grab that axe. He can’t arrest you for chopping wood.” Everyone thought it was a good idea until Bruce swung the axe at a log, and hit his leg instead. Trying not to make a scene, Bruce waved at the deputy as he drove off without even stopping. Not exactly a storybook ending.

I have lots of these memories tucked away in my mind, and sometimes events in everyday life bring them to the surface. However, there are things I can’t remember at all. For instance, when I doze in my recliner, why do I get up and walk into the kitchen? Am I thirsty or hungry? Do I need exercise, or do I really need to go to the bathroom? Is today Wednesday or Thursday?

Though some things stay with me for no apparent reason, some things also escape from me for no apparent reason. Looking at the big picture, I’m thankful for every moment I have been given – no matter what the outcome.

Roger Brockshus and his wife, Rita, live in Spirit Lake. They are mostly retired, but are both active in their church and community. Roger is a member of the Hartley Writers Group and Hartley Poetry Group.