The Song Is Ended...
by
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With the Gustavus turkey plant on the left and the old railroad “pelican pond” on the right, I left the sidewalk and crunched on the cinders and gravel toward the GN depot. A dozen cars colored the parking area, and thirty or so people were milling around the platform. Inside I bought my ticket from Miles Thaw, the agent. “College, huh?” “Yeah.” “Major?” “Maybe History.” “G’luck.” “Thank you.” I walked outside. There were a few pigs grunting in the Gustavus stockyards south of the tracks and the flash of a red wing leaving a cattail in the ditch. To the southeast I heard a low diesel horn. Two girls I didn’t know and their families edged toward the tracks. Other people filtered out of the waiting room. As the dark spot resolved itself into an orange diesel, I could feel the excitement grow inside me. Soon the engine was rumbling beneath the overpass. Suddenly, a ’56 Chevy brodied into the parking lot, almost hitting the platform and drawing an expletive from an old man next to me. The horn sounded at the Salem Street crossing. The shotgun door opened and Meg jumped out. Another horn at the Chicago crossing and Meg was pushing her way toward me. I could see her anger, and I knew she was shouting at me, but the diesel noise, the bell, and the goodbyes drowned her out. I saw Ronnie, looking sheepish, lean over from the driver’s seat, and give me a little nod. Meg thrust a book with a green and yellow cover at me. It was The Herd, the Caseyville High yearbook. Why is she giving me this? What am I supposed to do with it? Abruptly, Meg snatched it back, opened the front cover where there were little messages from her classmates, and pointed to some writing I immediately recognized: “Dear Meg, Well, here we are at the end of our junior year. We’re almost seniors, can you believe it? Lots of luck with Ronnie. You’re a great couple and I’m sure you’ll be very happy. I pray that God will let Chris learn to love me as much as I love him and as much as you and Ronnie love each other. God bless you. Ich liebe dich, BethAnn” “’boar-r-rd!” The old man picked up his suitcase and joined the others moving toward the coach, although a few people held back in embraces. “Well?” “Well, what?” “Doesn’t that mean anything to you?” “’boar-r-rd!” “It’s too late.” “No, it’s not. You didn’t know it, but BethAnn planned to go to Minot after graduation next year and go to nursing school at St. Francis. It was a surprise.” The goodbyes and kisses had almost stopped; the platform was bare of suitcases. “It’s too late.” I handed the book back and picked up my suitcases. The conductor came over and touched my arm. “You’d better climb aboard, son; you’re the last one.” “BethAnn loves you.” “Bye, Meg.” I started walking. “Wait, Chris!” I kept going until I reached the step. “’boar-r-rd!” I stepped up and looked at Meg. She came closer, holding the yearbook open. “You’re a fool! A blind fool!” “Yeah, I know.” The horn sounded and I walked into the “varnish.”
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About the Book
Chris Cockburn was one of the lucky Americans who grew up in a small town in the Midwest between the end of the Korean War and the assassination of JFK, ten years filled with school, Initiation, football, Homecoming, dances, detention, basketball, tournaments, proms, yearbooks, class rings, class night, and graduation. Time marked by family, funerals, best friends, worst enemies, late nights, first dates, first loves, going steady, break-ups, and moving on. A time of hot cars, car clubs, twenty-five cent gas, radios, deejays, drive-ins, hangouts, movies, hunting, swimming, roller skating, picnics, rumbles, after-school jobs, baseball, and comic books. Small triumphs, helplessness, tragic and comic events, all combined to mold a teenager’s life, a life underscored by the rhythm of rock-n-roll. A time when, as the poet said, “To be young was very heaven.”
About the Author
Kenneth C. Gardner, Jr., was born in New Rockford, ND, and was raised on the drift prairies in the central part of that state. He has been a teacher for over forty years: at Kenmare (ND) High School in 1966-67 and at Drayton (ND) High School ever since. He and his wife Carol raised three children—Kathy, Kenny, and Jeff—and each has gone on to a successful career. He is the author of a non-fiction book, Echoes of Distant School Bells: A History of the Drayton Public School, in two volumes.