Memories of Greensburg, Kansas
My Hometown
Written by Mark Stephenson - May 6, 2007
My brother called to tell me and my sister left a voice mail. I called my high school sweetheart and still a friend to Mary and me. The news was the same: Greensburg, Kansas had been destroyed by a tornado.
Destroyed seemed a bit exaggerated and at first I thought that a few homes and buildings must have been pretty badly damaged. I turned to CNN Headline News to see my high school in a heap, nothing left but a few walls of the church where I met Jesus, the movie theatre and all of the downtown area in piles of rubble.
I wept fiercely. I didn’t think it would affect me so deeply. My family members had moved away from Greensburg years ago. But I still had friends there and my heart aches for them. Many of them probably haven’t
yet seen the devastation. They’re still in shelters in nearby Haviland and Mullinville, perhaps watching the coverage or just hearing the reports as they come in.
I was born at the Kiowa County Memorial Hospital which is no more. The tornado has been rated EF-5, the worst possible kind of tornado and estimated at 1.5 miles wide at the base as it moved through town with winds of over 200 miles per hour.
This little town flourished as a farm community in the 60’s and 70’s with the population at about 2,500 people. It has languished in the past 30 years as the family farm has disappeared from the culture. Farm subsidies, government programs, corporate acquisition of farmland, the high cost of equipment and perhaps poor judgment left farmers hurting financially. It was a difficult but wonderful way of life but few could sustain it. Recent population numbers left Greensburg at 1,500 – last count I know of.
I have fond memories of going to the Shamrock Café for breakfast with my Grandpa and remember the great joy and enthusiasm as they discussed the coming wheat harvest over coffee. If it was sunny, we would be in the field at by 6:30am. But my earliest memory of Greensburg was in kindergarten. I remember the class being gathered and the teacher giving us instruction that if we saw a rattlesnake on the playground to leave it alone and come and tell the teacher! It really impressed me to think that my teacher could deal with rattlesnakes.
We moved away the next year to Colorado but returned in the summer to work the farm with our Grandpa. In 9th grade, we moved back to Greensburg and I finished high school. I was a basketball player and my 6’4” height was welcomed by the coach. I finished my senior year as All Iriquois League Center. Sorry to boast, but I was proud of that accomplishement.
I gave my life to Christ as a junior in May of 1969. Greg Schmidt, the local high school drug dealer had become a Christian. Now, I never did do any drugs and have only been drunk once in my life (I couldn’t see the
attraction). Oh, don't get me wrong. I have done plenty of other things wrong in my life though… but back to the story. This guy’s life change was so dramatic that I had to find out what happened. He explained that
our high school counselor had witnessed to him about the Lord and I surrendered my life after hearing his story. We became best friends and with a number of others became quite a force for Christ in that small town.
Two pretty cool and rough guys at our school, Jake Preble and Rich Dishneau, asked me what happened to me and why I was different. They listened while I told them about the change in my life. They didn’t come to faith at that time but respected me for my courage to stand by it. Years after I left Greensburg, when I would return to visit and Jake would see me he would come right up to me and ask, “Are you still a Christian?” I would say, “Yes, I am.” He would say, “Good” and move on. This went on for a few years and one year when he asked me, I said once again that “Yes, I was still a Christian.” His response was, “Good. So am I.” Big smiles all around. I hope Jake and his wife are alright.
As a Christian, I was always invited to the beer parties and I would go, but not to drink. I was invited to watch over everybody and help keep them safe. It was hard but I believed I could make a difference. Once a football player in my class offered me a drink and I said thanks but that I couldn’t do that. He threatened to pummel me but a few of his teammates came to my defense. They called him off and I heard them say, “Leave him alone. You know he’s a Christian.” I hope it made God smile. It did me.
In the summertime, farming was our way of life. Grandma’s cooking was also a way of life. I learned about being a neighbor from Grandma. When she would bake, she would always make an extra pie and take it to a neighbor. It wouldn’t be long before the favor was returned and many times by another neighbor. Grandpa taught us our work ethic. I didn’t like it or appreciate it at the time. The days were long (12 to 16 hours) and the work hard. Now that I’m older, I miss it and am very grateful to my grandfather and owe much of who I am to him. He was a hard man but that’s what I needed. My father had left when we lived in Colorado and I was in 3rd grade.
When we would be in the field west of Greensburg, closer to Mullinville, Kansas, we would see a trail of dust and then the blue and white ’55 Oldsmobile coming down the road and turning into the field. We couldn’t wait to finish the round and pull the 1929 McCormick-Deering 22-36 tractors right up next to the car. We knew that the lunch we were about to eat would be awesome. Here we are out in the middle of nowhere with a spread on the hood of the Olds of fried chicken, potatoes and gravy, green beans, iced tea in Mason jars, and apple pie. My mouth is watering as I write.
My brother called to tell me and my sister left a voice mail. I called my high school sweetheart and still a friend to Mary and me. The news was the same: Greensburg, Kansas had been destroyed by a tornado.
Destroyed seemed a bit exaggerated and at first I thought that a few homes and buildings must have been pretty badly damaged. I turned to CNN Headline News to see my high school in a heap, nothing left but a few walls of the church where I met Jesus, the movie theatre and all of the downtown area in piles of rubble.
I wept fiercely. I didn’t think it would affect me so deeply. My family members had moved away from Greensburg years ago. But I still had friends there and my heart aches for them. Many of them probably haven’t
yet seen the devastation. They’re still in shelters in nearby Haviland and Mullinville, perhaps watching the coverage or just hearing the reports as they come in. I was born at the Kiowa County Memorial Hospital which is no more. The tornado has been rated EF-5, the worst possible kind of tornado and estimated at 1.5 miles wide at the base as it moved through town with winds of over 200 miles per hour.
This little town flourished as a farm community in the 60’s and 70’s with the population at about 2,500 people. It has languished in the past 30 years as the family farm has disappeared from the culture. Farm subsidies, government programs, corporate acquisition of farmland, the high cost of equipment and perhaps poor judgment left farmers hurting financially. It was a difficult but wonderful way of life but few could sustain it. Recent population numbers left Greensburg at 1,500 – last count I know of.
I have fond memories of going to the Shamrock Café for breakfast with my Grandpa and remember the great joy and enthusiasm as they discussed the coming wheat harvest over coffee. If it was sunny, we would be in the field at by 6:30am. But my earliest memory of Greensburg was in kindergarten. I remember the class being gathered and the teacher giving us instruction that if we saw a rattlesnake on the playground to leave it alone and come and tell the teacher! It really impressed me to think that my teacher could deal with rattlesnakes.
We moved away the next year to Colorado but returned in the summer to work the farm with our Grandpa. In 9th grade, we moved back to Greensburg and I finished high school. I was a basketball player and my 6’4” height was welcomed by the coach. I finished my senior year as All Iriquois League Center. Sorry to boast, but I was proud of that accomplishement.
I gave my life to Christ as a junior in May of 1969. Greg Schmidt, the local high school drug dealer had become a Christian. Now, I never did do any drugs and have only been drunk once in my life (I couldn’t see the
attraction). Oh, don't get me wrong. I have done plenty of other things wrong in my life though… but back to the story. This guy’s life change was so dramatic that I had to find out what happened. He explained that
our high school counselor had witnessed to him about the Lord and I surrendered my life after hearing his story. We became best friends and with a number of others became quite a force for Christ in that small town. Two pretty cool and rough guys at our school, Jake Preble and Rich Dishneau, asked me what happened to me and why I was different. They listened while I told them about the change in my life. They didn’t come to faith at that time but respected me for my courage to stand by it. Years after I left Greensburg, when I would return to visit and Jake would see me he would come right up to me and ask, “Are you still a Christian?” I would say, “Yes, I am.” He would say, “Good” and move on. This went on for a few years and one year when he asked me, I said once again that “Yes, I was still a Christian.” His response was, “Good. So am I.” Big smiles all around. I hope Jake and his wife are alright.
As a Christian, I was always invited to the beer parties and I would go, but not to drink. I was invited to watch over everybody and help keep them safe. It was hard but I believed I could make a difference. Once a football player in my class offered me a drink and I said thanks but that I couldn’t do that. He threatened to pummel me but a few of his teammates came to my defense. They called him off and I heard them say, “Leave him alone. You know he’s a Christian.” I hope it made God smile. It did me.
In the summertime, farming was our way of life. Grandma’s cooking was also a way of life. I learned about being a neighbor from Grandma. When she would bake, she would always make an extra pie and take it to a neighbor. It wouldn’t be long before the favor was returned and many times by another neighbor. Grandpa taught us our work ethic. I didn’t like it or appreciate it at the time. The days were long (12 to 16 hours) and the work hard. Now that I’m older, I miss it and am very grateful to my grandfather and owe much of who I am to him. He was a hard man but that’s what I needed. My father had left when we lived in Colorado and I was in 3rd grade.
When we would be in the field west of Greensburg, closer to Mullinville, Kansas, we would see a trail of dust and then the blue and white ’55 Oldsmobile coming down the road and turning into the field. We couldn’t wait to finish the round and pull the 1929 McCormick-Deering 22-36 tractors right up next to the car. We knew that the lunch we were about to eat would be awesome. Here we are out in the middle of nowhere with a spread on the hood of the Olds of fried chicken, potatoes and gravy, green beans, iced tea in Mason jars, and apple pie. My mouth is watering as I write.
We’d listen to farm report and Paul Harvey, eat lunch, give Grandma a hug and kiss, fuel up the tractors and continue to plow until dark. That’s where I learned to sing. I would sing at the top of my lungs over the noise of the tractor. I couldn’t hear it so, I didn’t know if I sounded bad or not. I always thought that I must sound okay even though I couldn’t hear myself. The first time I ever sang in church I was nervous and did just awful. But Shirley Rice, the music teacher came to me and asked me to sing in the chorus. I guess she heard something she thought she could use. She was an encouragement to me. I hope she and her family are safe.
I’ll close here. As I mentioned at church last Sunday, we would go to Hunters Rexall Drug Store and there would be Dickie Huckreide. Dickie went to school with my mother in the late 1940’s and worked the fountain from the early 1950's until the drug store was destroy at 9:45pm on Friday, May 4, 2007.
He was a fixture in town and we didn’t really appreciate the novelty of a 1930’s soda fountain. It was just a way to get cherry
flavor added to a Coke. Years later, Coca-Cola decided it might be a good idea to bottle it that way. It doesn’t taste as good as what Dickie would make. And, yes… it was a nickel. When I went in last Thanksgiving, I think the price was eighty cents. Inflation, but worth every penny. By the way, the reason they call them soda jerks isn’t because they’re rude. If you haven’t seen the process of mixing a fountain drink, there are a few squirts of Coke or Dr. Pepper or Seven Up syrup pumped into the class. Then the phosphate soda is added by placing the glass under the soda fountain and moving the lever back and forth to add the carbonation. The jerking motion of the lever became part of the name.
My brother found Dickie at the shelter in Haviland. He’s okay but his way of life is gone and I’m certain he feels a tremendous loss. I would think that all that time, every day at the same job doing the same thing, and always having a smile and a kind word meant that he was very happy with his life. Pray for Dickie.
That’s it for now. I have too many other memories and stories but you’ve done well to read this far. I’ll leave you with a song (at least the lyrics) that pretty much sums up how I always felt about Greensburg, Kansas. I should probably ask permission to post theses but I would rather ask forgiveness.
Thank you, my friends and my church family for allowing me to grieve over the loss of my hometown. I hope it will be rebuilt. Although it won't be the same, the people with always remain the salt of the earth. Many times we focus too much on our problems and life becomes a soap opera. I don’t want that to happen. I’m certain that the early church wondered about the persecution they experienced and maybe even asked, “Why?” But if it hadn’t happened they would have happily remained in Jerusalem instead of fleeing. In fleeing, they took the good news to the rest of the known world. It is all a part of God’s plan. So, I ask your forgiveness before asking your indulgence again while I remember.
Thanks again for letting me grieve and sharing in it with me. I can move on from it now… soon.
Mark Stephenson, May 6, 2007
Our Town – James Taylor
Long ago, but not so very long ago
The world was different, oh yes it was
You settled down and you built a town and made it live
And you watched it grow
It was your town
Time goes by, time brings changes, you change, too
Nothing comes that you can't handle, so on you go
Never see it coming, the world caves in on you
On your town
Nothing you can do.
Main street isn't main street anymore
Lights don't shine as brightly as they shone before
Tell the truth, lights don't shine at all
In our town
Sun comes up each morning
Just like it's always done
Get up, go to work, start the day,
Open up for business that's never gonna come
As the world rolls by a million miles away
Main street isn't main street anymore
No one seems to need us like they did before
It's hard to find a reason left to stay
But it's our town
Love it anyway
Come what may, it's our town.
