Pink Houses

      I can remember when I was young I had the typical mind of a kid when it came to traveling. That would include the endless"When will we be there's" with the answer being the same every time, wondering what we'll eat next, and dragging me kicking and screaming to go sightseeing when all I wanted to do was go swimming at the hotel. With the exception of eating, the opposite now holds true.
      I love to fly in airplanes. I love the whole experience. Everything from the drive to the airport, to checking in my bags, the announcement chimes, taking off and landing, and watching different people from all over the world and wondering what their story is. But a long car ride is something else that gives me a rush. There's usually a reaction of astonishment whenever I tell someone I will be taking a 12- hour road trip and that I will not be flying. I have no problem riding in a car and staring out the window regardless of how long it takes as long as there is bed with a comfortable mattress and a glass of wine waiting for me when I reach my destination.
      12 hours on the road with kids in the car and regular stops is the equivalent of about an 800 mile road trip. A lot of things can be experienced within those 800 miles. The Iowa state line is always a sight for sore eyes after spending most of the day driving through the state of Illinois where there's not a whole lot to see with the exception of several police cars watching very closely on the side of the road and a very large state penitentiary. The lush green crops on miles of flat lands compliment the blue sky overhead. I admired the wind mills off in the distance as well as the ones that were close to the road as my phone nearly blew out of my hand when I tried to photograph them. The terraced farmland and the wide open highway ahead of us shimmered as the sun was setting at dusk. After a good day with good conversation with my mother, we had arrived.
       The drive was short the next day as we crossed the state line into South Dakota where we had to have been in one of the few places in the US where the speed limit had been raised to 80 mph. We got where we needed to be in much less time where time itself stood still. It was a place I had visited before. Children were riding their bikes on city streets until dark, houses that were 50 years old looked the same with the only difference being a fresh coat of paint and no one locked their front doors.
        About a 5 minute walk from my aunts house which overlooked a lovely view of the Missouri river, there was park.The park was made of history, beauty and nostalgia as though it were the heart of the city in which it resided. It wasn't a park that was built sometime around 2009 or so. It had a slide, a merry-go-round, and a jungle gym all of which was separated and deep within the concrete which held it all into place for decades. We threw stones in the water of the pond that was there and we followed the ducks around. I watched my children play where I once did but had to leave the older ones in charge since no one cared to join me when I decided to take a walk.
        I walked through an area of historical preservation just outside the park that dates back to 1860. I had always been a fan of Little House on the Prairie but it is always good to have actual reminders right in front of you. Some of which dates back to when my own ancestry once occupied the actual ground at which I stood. I saw One room school houses with a coal burning heater, manual sewing machines, oil lamps on kitchen tables, railway cars, an old water pump and an outhouse.
       From the foothills where the park was located stood a chapel that could be seen at the top of a hill. Bishop Marty Chapel looked more like a small cathedral with the ornate architecture and it's tall steeple which decorates the city skyline. It was a Thursday and the pews were empty. The lights were dim and the soft and very calming organ music could be heard as the organist was practicing in preparation for the upcoming service though she did
not know anyone was there. The light shone through the stained glass casting a colorful glow against the marble floor. A church service would have been nice if it were on a Sunday but I was glad I visited someplace that could not be visited at the place where I live.
        And then it was finally time. I was hungry. I had seen an old sign for a pizzeria located near the park. I could picture the red and white checkered table cloths, red candle holders with lit candles inside with the netting on the outside and the size variety pizza pans hanging on the wall near the kitchen. When we returned to my aunts house, there was a mentioning of pizza for lunch and I became hopeful. The next thing I knew, we had followed her in our car to that exact location and got as far as the parking lot. Sadly they changed their minds at this time as they had something better in mind.










Location: Yankton South Dakota
Date : 6/18/2015
Restaurant: Godfathers









                                             Pink Houses: John Cougar Mellencamp