As a married couple, Katie and I have lived in seven different locations in four different states. I guess we have been somewhat nomadic. Of all of our moves, the most memorable to me is the interstate trek from Davis, California to Yakima, Washington in 1991. Our U-Haul truck, pulling the little Honda on a tow dolly, was led by the “command car” Toyota driven by Katie. By virtue of my truck driving experience at summer camps I was the “truck er.”
The cab of the U-haul held me, one child and Jumper the dog. Riding “shotgun” was a rotating honor shared by Dan and Becca. Cece was slurping in a last taste of California at Ronnie Way with loving and doting grandparents. She later told me that she was hoping we’d come to our senses and either leave her there to live or return immediately having realized our mistake. Neither happened and of course her coming to Yakima forged the life-changing event of her meeting Rusty. (She has yet to thank us for that.)
Driving the truck was exciting and the kids loved it…Jumper seemed to enjoy it too. At rest stops the riding order would change and once I was even left with just the dog when Kate had some edible goodies in the car. Driving through the Sacramento Valley was a piece of cake and I was full of fantasies of driving a W.H. Parrish truck in the 1920 heyday of our family’s drayage firm. Even the climb out of Shasta Lake and through Weed was easy and we pulled into Klamath Falls on the evening of July 22nd, my 40th birthday.
Stopping at a Motel 8, Dan and I went for a walk down to see an old derelict Weyerhaeuser Timber Co. steam shovel on the shore of Klamath Lake. Becca and Kate went to the hot tub at the hotel. Kate got a scare as Becca got overheated, and slithered out of the tub, collapsing on the tile edge. Kate got her back to the room and cooled her down thankfully with no adverse effects. Later that night, Jumper was successfully smuggled into the hotel room from the cab of the truck, much to Becca and Dan’s delight.
The next day we drove straight to Yakima, sslloowwllyy pulling up the steep Maryhill Grade out of the Columbia River Gorge. That down and up gave me a few grey hairs and the truck lugged along slowly…but we made it and by late afternoon got to the top of the Toppenish Grade overlooking Toppenish, Wapato and the Gap to Yakima, our future home for the next 16 years.
There was a comical waiting period while we parked the truck nearby and circled the Occidental, Gilbert, Carlson Road loop several times until the Haines had finished moving out the last of their stuff from the barn. Finally, nearing dusk, we entered our new home and began to move a few items in until darkness stopped the progress.
That night there was an incredible thunder and lightning storm, the entire Yakima Valley was ringed with lightning strikes and never ending thunder. All of us were sleeping on the floor in the “sun room” huddled in our sleeping bags, the kids like Velcro between us. It was a rather novel and scary event…sleeping in an old, empty, unfamiliar house in the country, surrounded by no one known to us yet, all strange surroundings, etc. etc. I had visions of ghosts in that old place. Every creak and groan of the settling house woke me up.
Morning brought the sun and joy, fears vanished and happy exploring of the whole acreage, barn, everything. Rooms were claimed: Becca’s had two old dormer closets! Dan’s had a secret escape tunnel…actually the old ice box…literally…as his room had been the pantry in the 1921 vintage house. Cece inherited the beautiful front view. The barn would be a great home for Nellie, which was being transported by auto carrier from Sacramento. All was well, so the perambulating Parishes set down roots in Yakima which lasted the longest of any place we’d ever been.
JP 12-2011
No comments:
Post a Comment