South Dakota
In the high passes, I remembered an earlier visit to these parts with Grandpa and Grandma. I’d asked about the large rodents whose pointy noses appeared over the brow of the bluff above us. Grandpa replied, “That’s what you call marmots. Hmm. I wonder if they’re looking down at us and saying, ‘That’s what you call Marmons…’”
August isn’t one of the hot months in South Dakota. If South Dakota has any hot months. The Presidential display seemed to impress Rick less than it did his accompanying ancestors.
Uncle Ken and (Mammy’s big sister) Aunt Verna Carter were serving as missionaries to the Crow Indians. This trip gave us a chance to pay them a visit and to add to a venerable and traditional series of Verna-Leola tandem photographs.
Another recollection: we enjoyed our first Colonel Sanders’ Kentucky Fried Chicken in this general vicinity. Before they were everywhere, and while the Colonel was still alive. Both Ken and Pappy were both notably tickled by the discovery. Later, the kids would call it “Fricky-Fried Chicken,” and it became our standard fare on the days when a new family member would come home from Boston Lying-in Hospital.
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Updated Jan 2014 [Stan43.htm] Page 35-048