There are a lot of reasons to keep a blog like this. It's therapeutic. It's an attempt to explain to the next generation the odd cocktail that makes up a personality. It's s way to preserve small bits of family history, and even the odd bit of history writ large, for better or worse. And it kicks off a lot of old stories. A few of the best of those, courtesy of Mike Flannagan:
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| The best darn tree house ever. |
Flying kites in the field behind your house. The parachute!
Nights looking at the stars on the tennis court.
Walking through the underground sewer system.
Playing in the creek.
Baseball with a tennis ball in our backyard.
Skateboarding down HH. Wasn't that what we called that hill where we would do the hookups?
Your brothers, my brothers.
Skateboarding to Town Square Hair to ask for our sponsorship.
The fort in your attic.
Kilroy
The Buzbee Annual Tennis tournament.
The best darn tree houses ever.
Our dogs!
The Gruntly Team!
Riding bikes to Ridgeview Lake to fish.
Pachinko, Monopoly, chess
Running over to your house to see you. I would run as fast as I could and jump over two bushes at the Mathews' house every time.
Olympics in LA.
That treehouse was epic. I can only add war in the basement with toss across bean bags, playing chase all over Havencroft and the trampolines. Your brothers were terrifying and huge! Bill serving tennis balls at us. Oh boy.
ReplyDeleteAfter you told me boards from the tree house still existed on the tree. I had to go there, to see and touch them.
DeleteThis was shortly after the Royals Game we went to in 14
DeleteBoxing in your living room. Your brothers coming home at all hours picking us up in our sleeping bags and dropping us on the floor. And of course, that Halloween when we went trick or treating dressed as the Festrunk Brothers and no one knew what our costumes were. Shimmying around the old neighborhood was fairly tiring.
ReplyDeleteAnd Duke, the best dog ever.
ReplyDeleteSleeping out on the tennis court - I think back about why we'd choose to lay our sleeping bags on the hard asphalt when we could have picked the grass. It was the stars. Laying there with no trees or bushes to block the view, we'd let our eyes adjust to the dark and we'd see the vastness of the universe, literally looking back millions of years in time. The planets of the solar system. The Milky Way. The shooting stars. Glorious.
ReplyDeleteAnd as much as I give you a hard time about us getting stuck in the Saudi desert, I'll always treasure that night. The sky was breathtaking. No light from horizon to horizon. No distant glow of city lights. No planes passing overhead. Pure darkness with only the stars of the milky way above. And even though we were stranded, I laid down totally at peace. Totally. I had faith that you'd get us all home.
I believe pieces of the treehouse we built out on the hedgerow are still there, behind the Mormon church on 143rd.
ReplyDeleteSavoring every word, even the ones I don't understand. I have always enjoyed the stories and memories of my fellow '66ers.
ReplyDeleteCan't compete with the tree houses, which are fabulous, but will at least claim celebrating Kansas Day. And Kansas. And the Kansans I know.
ReplyDeleteI hadn't noticed how much Meg looks like you until you posted the tree house picture. If you removed your brown hair and replaced it with her blond hair you would have Meg sitting up there with all those boys!
ReplyDeleteWe have officially become Nats fans and will cheer them on all the way to a World Series Championship, in honor of our favorite Uncle John.
Your writing is beautiful and eloquent. Thank you so much for sharing your remarkable hard fought journey with us. But my favorite remark was made by Jim when he said you have such a special family. We love you all dearly.
From, Mary Jane
DeleteRest in peace, my friend.
ReplyDeleteI learned of your passing this morning. While we didn't know one another, we know some of the same people. Your humor and resilience at the end is inspiring. Thank you for sharing, Mr. Buzbee.
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Bill serving tennis balls at us. Oh boy.
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