ehmeegee: He used to tell this story of returning from the war,…
He used to tell this story of returning from the war, just enough change in his pocket to get on the train in Seattle and make it to the first stop in Spokane. From there he would disembark, suitcase in hand, anxious to make it back to the empty prairie and his father’s ranch but without the apparent means to do so, his last dollars spent. He told me he saw a coin-operated gambling machine in the station- the type you would put some quarters in, pull the lever and hope for the best. The first time he tried it he won enough to buy a ticket to the next stop which would take him through northern Idaho and into Montana – and he tried again to get change for something to eat. As the story goes he repeated this until he was so close to the homestead he could feel it, his gambling for transport a string of fortune bringing him home. As he approached the last of these machines, the only obstacle between the end of the war and his homecoming, a fellow train passenger slipped in front, pulled put his quarters and yanked the lever – the jackpot was struck! and he, I imagine, exclaimed in joy while my grandfather cursed under his breath.
I’m not sure how he got home; the conclusion to that story is lost in a haze. Maybe he walked the thirty miles, maybe he grabbed a ride on the back of someone’s hay cart. I know he made it back, but sometimes I imagine him still gambling the last of his luck in the chance he would make enough for the train to bring him home.
Rest in peace, Grandpa.
Reposted from http://ift.tt/1gdiGaw.
