July 9, 2001
DOWN HOME:
A wonderful afternoon in the thicket with Popo
___What sparks a memory? For just a split second, a synapse fired in my brain, and Popo and I still were in a wild plum thicket in the middle of one of the best afternoons of my life.
___His name was Leonard Moore, but we called him Popo. He was my mother's father. He lived five months past his 80th birthday, but he would have turned 95 had he lived to this summer.
___Popo had one of the world's all-time best granddad jobs. He was "librarian" of the Santa Fe Railroad's Reading Room in Waynoka, Okla.
___The Reading Room was a company-owned hotel for railroaders, and Popo ran the place. Railroaders who stayed in the Reading Room lived in Amarillo or Topeka, Kan.They would work their freight trains halfway down the line-- to Waynoka--sleep over at the Reading Room, and catch another train back home.
MARV KNOX
Editor
___The Reading Room was a great place for a kid whose Popo was the librarian. It was a big old brick building, full of interesting nooks and crannies, right beside the train platform. And it was filled with old railroaders who loved to tell tall tales to tow-headed little boys.
___But the best part about the Reading Room was Popo's freedom. He and Grammar, my grandmother, lived in an apartment in the building, and Grammar helped run things. So, when Popo wanted to take off a few hours in the late afternoon to take his grandson fishing, he did. Grammar went "out front" to wait on the railroaders, and Popo and I loaded up the Studebaker with fishing tackle and ice water and headed for the stock tanks.
___We never caught much, and most of the time we threw the tiny sun perch back in the water. Mostly, we passed lazy afternoons laughing and talking. Sometimes, he let me shoot his .410 shotgun.
___One afternoon, Popo spied a thicket of plum bushes and decided we'd pick plums. "Boy, let's get us some plums," he said. "You'll like 'em."
___I wasn't so sure, because the bushes scratched my hands. Hands were one of Popo's greatest assets. He had huge, strong hands, and when he was still in his 50s, they were tough as leather. Popo reached into those plum bushes and pulled out what seemed like a peck of plums at a time.
___The other day, out of nowhere, I remembered that afternoon. I could smell the dust and taste the wild plums. Better, I could taste the jelly Grammar made from those plums, spread over homemade bread. Life always should be so sweet.
___Well, pardon the nostalgia. But my memory of that summer afternoon with Popo reminded me that we never know when we'll make a memory that lasts a lifetime. Each day is a treasure. Enjoy it.
___And if you have the opportunity to spend it with a child (or a grandparent) savor it as a gift from God. It is.
___
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