I’m a Nebraskan. I now live in Colorado and yet there’s something mystical that exists in all of us as we refer to our home. It may not be a physical place, it’s more understanding where your roots took hold, no matter the location, and mine took hold in Nebraska.
Time after time, quip after quip, people relay how absolutely boring it is to traverse I-80 across Nebraska. I might have entertained that idea if I hadn’t grown up there. But it’s home with a river running beside the Interstate, often out of view. The Platte holds my memories there – the joy of seining for bait, hopping onto every size of sandbar with my siblings, followed by jumping into the shallow summer water, splashing each other while our parents and grandparents dragged fish nets through deep water holes hidden near the banks, hoping to capture minnows.
Home is the fall harvest and childhood years of riding on top of corn ears piled high in the wagon as my father drove the tractor down the dirt lane leading to corn bins for storage. The sun and crisp air stirred across my face as I wore my plaid flannel shirt, my eyes closed as I inhaled the world surrounding me. These memories are stored deeply, rarely withdrawn, but always there if needed to remind me of who I am and where I belong, even if far away.
Home is Nebraska football. There’s probably not a Nebraskan who hasn’t experienced the packed stadium loaded with people donning shades of red and a never-ending hope this season will be the good one, even though last season’s hope was squashed in Ireland by the Northwestern team, with my family present to observe it. At least the pep rally was fun.
Home was Thursday night and the girls’ volleyball team filling the stadium, setting a record for attendance at any women’s sport – in the world! As so many said, the night was magical. The excitement was palpable, even if my husband and I were sitting in our usual recliners. Even more profound was knowing the fans were there to watch women play. Women. It gives hope that women’s sports will thrive even more. It’s clearly happening, and Nebraska is leading it. Who would have thought? And that’s home. So, maybe driving I-80 across Nebraska isn’t so boring after all. You just have to know it.
An excellent heartfelt description of HOME. I’m still connected to my Kansas roots even though I haven’t lived there in 65 yrs. It is still and always will be HOME.
It’s fascinating, isn’t it? How HOME never leaves us.
This piece brought home back home, where roots took hold. Love it.
Thanks Sal. Home and our roots become even more clear as we get older.
When I think of Nebraska, I think of my love of books by Willa Cather. Someday I hope to visit Red Cloud. But I also think about the sandhill cranes who make Nebraska their temporary home as they migrate north in the late winter. Magical!
Minnesota is my home and I can’t let it slip by that the University of Minnesota beat Nebraska this week in the first football game of the season. Sorry! (Not really!)
You do have to visit the Willa Cather Museum at Red Cloud. I went with my sisters a few years ago and it’s great! I love her writing, too. As for the football game, well, what can I say? Since watching Colorado yesterday, the Nebraska team might be shaking in their boots!