Walking – a Way of Life It was only a mile to our mailbox to get the mail and two and a half or three miles depending on which school we were attending. Walking was a daily occurrence for most of the year. Gas was eighteen cents a gallon and we each got one pair of shoes for the entire year. Barefoot was what we could always afford. Walking was such an enjoyable experience, especially in the spring as you passed by the meadows viewing new growth of the year. Flowers that brought magic to the singing of the Western Meadowlarks as they greeted us. Even the beautiful majestic ring necked pheasants acknowledged us as we passed nearby and only rarely took flight when maybe our harmonizing singing voices didn’t meet with their approval.

My youngest sister, Alice, and I walked for the mail most often and what a carefree task we so often enjoyed. The wildlife, rabbits, squirrels, prairie dogs and ground hogs that were usually nearby as we walked almost seemed to enjoy our singing as they stood up on their hind legs showing their appreciation as we moved passed them, at least we didn’t scare them away. While walking along we usually sang all the current popular songs as well as the songs we sang at Sunday School every Sunday morning. Many of those songs, like “When it’s Springtime in the Rockies”, and several of the church songs, still linger in my mind.

Having walked to get the mail most days when we were not in school, quite often our timing would be so we would meet the mailman and get to know him as he was delivering the mail. This early encounter proved to be quite rewarding a few years later. Even though we had moved we still ended up on his route. Quite often while I was in high school in Sargent, I would hitch a ride with him on Saturday mornings to get home. I stayed in Sargent Monday through Friday while in high school. If I would mail a letter home it would cost me three cents but by hitching a ride it was really just mailing myself free of charge as I rode along with our mail carrier. While growing up I often thought being a mail carrier would be a wonderful occupation to pursue later in life.

Walking to school was just normal for all kids at that time. Starting school my early years had me enrolled at Mount Custer, just two and a half miles from home and missing a day of school just didn’t happen. I can remember my dad giving us a ride in a wagon pulled by two horses, one time, when it was snowing so hard you could barely see. By the fourth grade I to transferred to Dry Valley so I could attend the same school as my four siblings. That became a three mile walk and soon I began running both ways. In the mornings I liked to arrive early to be able to play before school began and in the evenings running just let me enjoy a snack, before supper, when I returned home.

With so much happiness, being poor never occurred to us.