Jonathan Lankford

Jonathan Lankford

Across the street from my grandparents old home place there was an old Texaco station. It had been there from when I was a child and before. My two uncles would come home from Delaware, where they worked for Dupont and would sit around and tell us about how they used to sit at the back of the Texaco station and hear old-timers reminisce about days gone by. There was an old pot bellied coal burning stove that heated the place in the winter. The stove and its heat became the centerpiece for recounting the trials of men. We lived in the country and I remember as I got older I used to like to go over to the station and you guessed it, listen to old-timers tell stories.

I heard them talk about hunting, politics, lack of rain and the good Lord. It was all about remembering. There is something in us that needs to remember. My uncles told me when they were kids they would go across the street and hear the conversation about how WW 2 was going. They listened as the older men rehearsed their trials and told war stories about WW 1.