You might find this boring

I have been busy here in Missouri but with nothing that would be interesting to read about for most of my audience I'm afraid. We got here Thursday night. We haven't taken many pictures of our boring but busy adventures since getting here.

Most of the last 16-17 years or so, we've come here to Mountain Grove for the 4th of July. I never lived in Mountain Grove but it is where my parents were from and we came here to visit my grandparents all of my life. My parents moved here the same year I graduated from college and got married. It is the epitemy of small town nostalgia complete with a town square, family owned restaurants and grocery stores, old houses, old buidlings, old trucks and old stories.

I don't know how many of you ever watched Andy Hardy movies, but I used to watch them every Sunday after church and before and after Sunday dinner growing up.

Mountain Grove has always reminded me of those Andy Hardy movies. Of course, I didn't see this little town in its hey day 40's but I've seen pictures and heard stories. My parents graduated from MGHS in 1946 and 47. It is not hard to see the charm of this place through their eyes and memories they share. The charm is still here, the spirit that made it in exceptional little town.

In 1991 or so, my dad was part of a group that arranged for a piece of land, not far from the town square or high school, to be donated to the Alumni of the high school. An old spring house, where farmers used to keep their milk cool when they came to town to sell it, was it's centerpiece. Around it, over the last few years, they have built a stone wall with the names of the all the graduates since around 1888. Tables and benches were donated, and shelters for picnic tables and bricks were sold to individuals to pave the center walkway. Two years ago my dad designed and helped build with the time and donations of many volunteers, a large shelter with an enclosed modern kitchen, storage, and restrooms. I have seen the park grow from that old spring house in the middle of a run down lot, until it has nearly reached the vision of the few loyal graduates that wanted to have a special place to gather and remember this most unique town and high school they grew up in.

Around every 4th of July now, the park is home to many class reunions and following a parade on the Saturday closest to the 4th, everyone comes to the park for a bbq lunch. People literally come from all over the world to reunite with their friends and classmates. This has often astounded me. I graduated from a small town high school and have only been back once in 25 years. We've only had one reunion since then. But year after year, the Alumni of this high school gather together. This event is one of the main reasons we come time after time. The first couple of years we came to help trim, mow, and prepare the park as my dad seemed to always end up doing most of the work himself. Then others stepped up to help with those parts and we came to help my dad pick up, heat, and serve pulled pork sandwiches to the hundreds of people that gathered. We brought the bbq sauce bottles and pans and serving trays home every year and washed them. We emptied trash cans and cleaned tables and evesdropped on the stories and laughter that filled the park. It was such a great pleasure to be a little help in this annual event. This year, since my dad is not able to be as involved, our roles have changed. Others stepped in to arrange and serve the food. Caretakers have been hired to mow and clean the park and empty the trash cans. This year we came to help my dad enjoy it, knowing that we might need to keep him from doing too much or help him escape gracefully if he got too tired to stay. We set up tables and chairs and then took them down and that is all we did. We got off pretty easy workwise. My dad did leave a bit earlier than he used to and we stayed behind and it felt a bit strange and good at the same time, that he had done his job, it was taking care of itself now, he could enjoy and go home and rest. He had layed the ground work, he had started the job and now others see the vision and roll up their sleeves to keep it going. It struck me yesterday after he left, what a huge project he had helped to build out of just an idea. He helped build a gathering place like very few others, he helped build new traditions and helped everyone savor the old ones. As I write this, my husband is watching Field of Dreams and I was thinking that a few dedicated Alumni built a park too and people came and people will keep coming. It may seem a bit dramatic, but it is genuine. If you could see it, you would believe it.

So, today, we went to my dad's church to help celebrate its 125th anniversary. It was a fun and special service. Tonight we went back for a Preacher's Quartet and a Bluegrass family group. It was very impressive and entertaining. We have two days left here with a couple of mini adventures planned that I will share later if they happen and we get any pictures.

I thought I'd show you a couple of pictures of my dad and his wife's house they had built not long before they got married 4 years ago. (you may remember that my mom died 13 years ago) It is such a lovely place to visit.

This was last February when I was here and built the snowlady I posted.

This was yesterday.

And now for a bit of sad news. Remember this picture from my last trip?

Well, when we passed by the building where it was, we found they were in the process of sandblasting it away. This is how it looks now. A tragedy.