This week, especially coming home, was one of nostalgic reminiscing. This sign started it for me... when I was Hannah's age my Grandpa (Mom's Dad) would pick me up in his old Mercedes, filled with Cigar smoke and his dash board donkey, to take me home with him for a few weeks out of the summer. He would tell me stories, we would listen to the radio and I would ask a million questions. Well, my favorite of favorite stories he would tell me, was one that kept me busy and amused still to this day.This is how it went... Their was an Indian family and they were looking for food (or a place to live?) and along their way... Falling Rock, their son, lost his way. So the parents have posted signs all over the country so Americans would help them find him. I would look out the window and count the signs and every time my Grandpa saw a rock close to the line or falling off the hill side or just to keep me interested he would say... there he is, keep watching we might find him or he must have come through here... Remember to always watch for him.
I still haven't found him, :) but realized this week, now my daughter hunts for
I still haven't found him, :) but realized this week, now my daughter hunts for
'Falling Rock' and it gives me goose bumps. I have found that Hannah favors my Grandpa in looks more and more... He passed away 4 months before Hannah was born, but not before we got to tell him we were pregnant. Thank you God for that....
So, when you are traveling on the road, keep a look out for 'Falling Rock'!
3 comments:
I adore that story and how you've passed it on to Hannah. We don't see many signs about falling rocks (goes with not having any mountains), but we see plenty of Flood Gage signs which seems a little odd as we are so dry normally.
Flood gage...flood gage. I can't think of a way to make that work, but I like your Grandpa's story and I'm going to keep trying to work with it. Flood gage...
We used to have a game we played on road trips. It actually started out with my Grandmother and cousin. They picked me up once on the way back home (I was visiting an out of town friend). Anytime we saw a purple car we'd shout out 'Bingo!' As you can imagine, there weren't many of those on the highways so we switched it to Yellow. When we got home, my folks and sister also picked it up... but instead of 'bingo,' Dad insisted on saying 'quizmo' which was something from his childhood. Thus was born 'Quizmo' everlasting. I still think it in my head every time I see a yellow car.
What a fun story. I'll never see this kind of sign again without looking for Falling Rock!
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