Melanie C. Campos ~ MahTame

MEMORIES OF THE DIAMOND R
The Old Brown Chevy Pickup

Grandma and Grandpa’s farm, The Diamond R, was on a hill, only two miles from the Wichita Mountains and about two miles from their angle to the northwest and Saddle Mountain. When you are standing at the back side of the farm house, looking to the far north, you could see the Slick Hills rolling over from east to west. And in the immediate north of the farm you could see the pasture grass waving in the various directions. The textures of it all seemed to be smooth but once you walk out into them, it is more like a roughness feel to the prairie or pasture grass, except for the blue stem plumes, which were feathery soft. Mesquite trees were scattered about, a plum thicket, and two ponds would readily be seen as you look kept looking northward. One pond was more to the east part of the pasture and the other was directly north of the house. You wouldn’t even know the ground had cobble stones in it and broken twigs and smaller hills all through it, unless you get into the pasture and start exploring or riding through.

Particularly during the holiday season, family members go to the farm and visit Grandpa and Grandma. If we were fortunate, the weather would be decent enough to go out with Grandpa to check on the cows. I can hear all of us kids, which would be around ten or so hollering: ‘Hey everybody, you want to ride with grandpa in the back of his truck? He’s going to the pasture to check on some cows. Let’s go!’ As many a grandchild hollered on top of their lungs. The older cousins got the privilege of sitting on the lowered tailgate, while the rest of us had to sit in the bed. If we sat on the tire area, we sure would have to hold on tight to the side of the truck because every bump and roll surely was felt and could knock you right off the truck. I remember sitting on that wheel hump or next to it many times and always, feeling jealous ‘because Gretchen always got to sit on the tail gate, she was a year older than me, even though we were in the same grade. ‘ The boys would help grandpa unhook the barbed wire gate, pulling it out of the way, so grandpa could go through, then they would hop off the tailgate and close it back up. The road into the pasture was just plain dirt where many years of wear from the truck’s tires matted the grass down into dirt. It looked like two dirt paths rarely curving in and out down the pasture till you got to the end of the barbed wire fence.

Grandpa would rev up the engine of that old truck, and off we would go into the pasture. Sometimes he would speed up and then a terrace in the ground would come up and we would get a jolt which sent us flying upwards for a little bit with lots of screams and laughter. If you got to sit on the tailgate of the truck, your legs would fly up or you can dangle them as the truck goes, but one problem with that, is sometimes there is a small bush or prairie grass in the middle and it would slap your legs as grandpa drives down the road. A lot of little terraces were in that pasture, and grandpa knew just how to go over them, just enough for us to get a thrill, almost like a mini-rollercoaster ride, full of ups and downs and jolts! Then we would come to a stop as grandpa checks out another pasture to the west. The boys jump off and help him open that barbed wire gate. We go through, and they close it again, and grandpa starts to drive off and the boys come running to jump on the end of the truck. And off we go into that pasture, and it is full of terraces! We would fall in the bed of the truck laughing and giggling, getting jilted to and fro, till we get to the west end of that pasture and checking on the cows. Sometimes I wondered if Grandpa just made up the excuse to check on the cows just to give us a fun, bumpity ride!

Actually, when I was a kid, I really didn’t know what Grandpa was looking for when he went to check on the cows. I guess he was counting them to see if they were all there or if one of the mama cows was about to give birth or had given birth. Sometimes we would help give hay that was loaded in the back of the truck and when we came to the cows, we threw bunches of hay over to feed them. Sometimes a cow would bravely walk right up to the truck and stick their wet noses right in your face! Guess they were mighty hungry, or just checking us out, thinking we might be some strange cow, maybe… A mind can go a wondering in all kinds of directions if you got to thinking all the maybes and what if’s in a country and its farm.

Some afternoons, if the weather was just right and a simple jacket would be necessary to suffice the temperatures, Grandpa would take us up to the Meers store and treat us to a soda or some sweet treat. He wouldn’t let you sit on the opened tail gate, but to ride in that old truck was just as fun as if you were in that bumpity pasture. We all would huddle in the bed of that truck, and feel every bump, hole, hill, or any unevenness in that old two way road. He would rev up that engine when he came to the big hill and off we go holding on to keep from falling against the tail end of the truck. You could just hear all of the screams and laughter we all would do as we went up that hill, and the excitement of getting to go to Meers. If you were fortunate enough, your mom or dad would give you an extra quarter or so to get more treats when you got to the store. Grandpa would park the truck next to the store; we all jump off and run in looking at all the sweets and store goods. Meers had a post office too, and Grandpa would check in and chat with the folks that worked in there, while we all check out the sweets and treats. The folks would know grandpa by name and would ask how he was, how is grandma, who are all of us are and whose parents we belonged too, how’s the weather, and such that grownups would chat about. Then you would hear ‘Have a good day Lee, tell Dorothy hello, and enjoy them grandkids!’ and then it would be time for us to pile back into that truck with our treats and off we go back to the farm.

Grandpa would holler to us, if we are all here, then we all holler yea and off we go back east to the house. You can hear that engine revving up and off we go on back the way we came. That hill we went up was so very fun going down. You can hear grandpa putting on the foot pedal to speed up that old truck, and then zip on down that hill like someone was a coming after you! Every time you think you are ready for that downward slope, you aren’t, with a little bump, we fly up then back down and holding on for dear life as the descent was rather steep. In unison you would hear all the ‘Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh’ and ‘ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh’ and ‘wwwwwwwwwwwwweeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee’ then you would hear someone exclaim: ‘I thought I was going to fly out of the truck!’ Our hearts would beat so hard, and then we would start laughing and talking so fast about that ride down the hill. Grandpa sure knew how to drive that old truck to give us the rides of our life! Then the road would be straightened out and up a little hill where the Diamond R sat, and then we would turn into the gravely road and on around to the back of the house where Grandpa parked his truck.

We all would be full of laughter and talk and thanking Grandpa for the ride, and for the treats he bought us at Meers. All of us would tell him it was so fun and when can he do that again so we can experience it again, perhaps even more thrilling than the other times. He would just smile and say next time, whenever that would be, we wouldn’t know, but we knew he meant it. Grandpa would go on into the house, while most of us would just hang around his truck eating our snacks or chewing the penny gum he bought us. The younger ones would follow him into the house and probably telling the other grownups all about our adventures in the pasture, to Meers Store, and especially down that hill like it was a rollercoaster ride!

Those were some fun days growing up and visiting Grandma and Grandpa, the farm, even when Grandma passed on, we all continued to visit grandpa and stay at the Diamond R. Grandpa would still take us grandkids for a ride in the pasture, going over those little rolls in the ground, we all would squeal in delight and laughing like there was no tomorrow. Sometimes when the older cousins were no longer around, we got to sit on that tail end of another pickup truck, letting our legs dangle off the end and feel the grasses on our legs as we went into the pasture. Sometimes Grandpa would go to the east side of the house and he would take us fishing to the east pond. We used cane rods and he would show us how to fish. ‘Just throw the line in and watch the red and white ball go under and if it does, then you have a fish on the other end’ he would say. We watched and watched, be bored as all get out but watch anyway and trying to be quiet as ever so as not to scare off the fishes. Grandpa got a few fish, I got maybe one or two, and someone else would get a fish or two, mostly bites though. He would put them in a bucket with water and then after a long time at the pond, we all got back in the truck and back to the house. Sometimes he would drive around a little bit to give us a fun ride again, with fish flopping around in the bucket and water spilling out and splashing on us. We would smell like fish, eww, but we had fun anyway, because Grandpa would just drive around giving us a ride in the pasture.

Those days are long gone now, us grandkids grew up, Grandpa grew older and since passed on too. The Diamond R is still there though, with one of the kin folks living in it. We no longer have the same kind of fun riding in the back of a pickup truck, with our legs dangling on the tailgate, getting hit by prairie grass or a lone bush, not like it was back then when we were kids. The pastures are still there, and so are the ponds. My cousin, Gretchen, that was one year older than me had passed on from cancer a couple of years ago. The Meers store is now a hamburger place and known as the best Hamburger Joint throughout the world. The old brown Chevy pickup was given to my brother when he was much older. The place still faces the Wichita Mountains to the south and the Slick Hills to the north and my memory comes and goes of those years spent at the farm, including those fun filled bumpy rides in the pasture land.

©Copyright January 27, 2010 by Melanie C. Campos ~ MahTame