On Thursday we continued west to Rapid City, stopping by the Corn Palace in Mitchell. We were going to leave some of Dad\u2019s ashes here, but Mom suddenly wasn\u2019t feeling as playful about the prospect as we sisters were. (Confession: I sprinkled a pinch of him in the gold pan of a mannequin miner sitting in a chair on the boardwalk in front of a tacky souvenir shop. The handwritten sign pinned to his checked shirt read: \u201cDon\u2019t touch me; I\u2019m crabby.\u201d) Dad loved these tacky roadside attractions, and I know he was chuckling at my daring.\u00a0<\/p>\n
Next stop Wall Drug, the Capital of Tat. Back in the late sixties when we first began stopping here on our way to and from the Black Hills, Wall Drug was just a drug store and small restaurant that offered free ice water. My how times have changed. Dad loved Wall Drug, and he loved discovering the new additions each time he passed through over the decades. No, we didn\u2019t leave any of him here, but I considered it.<\/p>\n
In Rapid City we met up with our brother, Marty, his wife, Jen, and daughter Molly. Mom\u2019s sister has lived in Rapid for many decades, and three of her sons still live here. On Friday we explored the places Dad had taken us to: Custer State Park (bison and rock climbing); Crazy Horse Monument (Native American arts and cultural artifacts); Mount Rushmore (4 dead white guys). At Crazy Horse, we watched Native Americans dance in full regalia, thinking how Dad had always been captivated by American Indian culture. In the \u201970s he was made an honorary member of the Navajo Nation. Someday I may take some of his ashes to Arizona and ask the Din\u00e9 to bless Brother Jim and return him to the land.<\/p>\n
Saturday morning we set the dial for Silver City, the tiny community in the Black Hills where we had rented cabins with our friends the Fentons, spending our days hiking, swimming, tubing Rapid Creek, and exploring. We had become acquainted with an old cowboy-miner who lived in the nearby hills and would wander through town, stopping to chat. Lean and weathered, Sage Brush Jim sported a long silver beard, blue jeans, and a snap-button shirt. Dad would also let his silver whiskers grow on vacation, and he often plied Sage Brush about where to pan for gold.\u00a0<\/p>\n
Marty picked the next spot for Dad\u2019s ashes, a short walk down a grassy bank along Rapid Creek, where Dad had spent hours fishing. \u201cDad took a lot of fish from this spot and ate them. It\u2019s only appropriate that we now feed the fish with Dad,\u201d Marty said. And so each of us took a scoop and waded into the creek, sending Dad afloat downstream. Later, we hopped in inner tubes and floated a short stretch of the water, getting caught in downed trees and flipping out of the tubes. Dad had the last laugh on Marty, whose tube exploded on a sharp tree branch about five minutes into our float.<\/p>\n
Supper with our beloved cousins back in Rapid City, a backyard BBQ at cousin Matt\u2019s, was a fun reminiscence. We recalled stories of South Dakota adventures and of Dad\u2014Uncle Jim. Cousin Bryan recounted a story when Dad and Mom came through on a trip West, long after we kids had grown and left home. Dad was going through a metal detector phase, so Bryan took him to an abandoned mine to \u201clook for gold.\u201d When the metal detector beeped, Dad instructed his companions to \u201cdig here!\u201d After an hour or so of worthless finds, Bryan\u2019s wife distracted Dad while Bryan wrote a note on a scrap of paper: \u201cJim, it\u2019s time to go home.\u201d Bryan wrapped a nickel inside the note then dug a shallow hole and buried it. He directed Dad back to the spot, and the metal detector lit up over the nickel. When Dad dug up his prize, he had a good laugh.<\/p>\n
I picture God coming for Dad: \u201cJim, it\u2019s time to go Home.\u201d\u00a0<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"