Run, Boys Run!

In the summer of 1969, my family and I came to Todd County to visit my Grandparents on their farm. During our stay, my cousins from Missouri came to visit as well, and we were all young boys eager for adventure. One day, while we were hanging out with Grandpa, he announced that he was going to town and offered to take us with him. Of course, we eagerly agreed, as we were all hoping to snag some candy while we were there.

All five of us piled into the back of grandpa’s truck, which was our favorite mode of transportation back in those days. As we arrived at the town square, Grandpa parked the truck in front of Elkton Hardware to get some supplies. This was our chance to make a mad dash into the Ben Franklin Five and Dime to grab some candy.

As we hopped out of the truck, Grandpa reminded us to be back in the truck when he comes out, or he would leave us behind. We thought he was joking, as Grandpa always loved to joke around.

Excitedly, my cousins and I placed our candy on the countertop beside the cash register, eagerly anticipating the sweet treats we would soon devour. However, to our dismay, the cashier, an older gentleman seemed to be moving at a snail’s pace as he pecked the cash register keys for each item one-by-one.

As we anxiously watched the seconds tick by, we suddenly noticed through the window Grandpa getting back into his truck, that’s when I heard the dreaded sound of the engine humming as it came to life. Panicking, we begged the cashier to hurry up and ring us up so we could make it back to the truck before Grandpa drove away without us.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the cashier finished ringing up our purchases. With lightning speed, we grabbed our bags of candy and frantically scrambled out the door, hoping to catch up with Grandpa but it was too late, he had already grabbed first gear and was leaving.

Our hearts pounding in our chests, and in a full-blown panic as we ran as fast as we could, trying to catch up to the truck. We aimed for the tailgate, but no matter how hard we tried, we couldn’t gain any speed. Grandpa drove around half of the Square and then turned north, all the while we were panicking, thinking we’d be stranded and have to walk home.

As we ran behind the truck, getting within about two feet of the tailgate, Grandpa would speed up, leaving us even more out of breath. It was then that I caught a glimpse of him in the rearview mirror, laughing hysterically.

Eventually, he slowed down past the old IGA, allowing us to pile back into the truck. We were all laughing about the wild run we had just experienced, and It’s a memory that still brings a smile to my face and one that I will always treasure. It was just another unforgettable adventure of life on the farm.

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