~it was only around the corner and down the block a ways~

I never knew my grandfathers and that is perhaps one of the saddest of memories which come from my childhood days.  When all the other kids talked about doing something with their grandpas, all I could do was to remember that I had none.  One of them, my Grandfather Brown, died when I was just a tiny baby.  The only memory I have of him is what my mother told me that he said once about me as he held a sleeping little baby girl named Peggy Ann in his arms.

"Wouldn't it be nice to be that young again?"

It's the only personal connection that I have had to carry with me all these 63 years of my life.   Mom told me of it long before she died in 2007 and I wish I would have asked her even more about him.  Sadly, I did not.  My grandmother told me many things about him when I was a young child growing up.  Especially Grandmother Brown told me about Granddad's love for raising up fine bred Morgan horses with his 4 brothers who went by the collective name of "The Brown Brothers".  I saw many pictures that were taken of them as they trained their horses on the Riverbanks Farm in Harvey County, Kansas.  I never knew any of them, but I developed this vicarious relationship with them through the memories of others.

Time went on.  Grandmother died as well as my mom and her two sisters, Aunt Beck and Aunt Dorothy.  Four of my own siblings have died and those that who remain, my brother and younger sister, don't really know or remember anything more than I do these days about what life was like back then.  I can only rely on things that I recall being said about my family's history in order to realize just where and who I came from.  Every once in a while, something will pop up out of the blue that helps to make a connection to the man that everyone called "Sweet Potato Brown" who was actually my grandfather, Andrew J. Brown.

One of those connections was the Chilloco Indian School.

Grandmother Brown told me often about the Brown Brothers' Morgan horses.  For well over 3 decades, grandfather and his brothers bred Morgan horses for sale to a variety of buyers.  Their horse breeding business was among the best and their name was well known in the circles of those who loved Morgans.  In the late 1930's, with two brothers passing and the others advancing in years, my grandfather decided it was time to sell the last of his Morgan horse stock.  It was then that Grandmother said the majority of them were sold to an Indian school in Oklahoma.  As a young child, the idea of Grandfather Brown selling his stock to a place such as that was quite intriguing.  I wondered where on earth that kind of a place could have been.  But the story stopped there with that tiny tidbit of information tucked away into the crevices of my 9-year old brain.

Fast forward 54 years.

Mike and I often make the quick trip north into Kansas from our home here in Newkirk.  Along the way in one of those earlier times this spring, I happened to glance to the west right before we crossed the border.  I caught sight of a tall metal sign with distinct lettering going across the archway on top of it.  It took a moment, but I recognized the name from somewhere.  We went on into Ark City and on the way back home, I asked Mike to pull over so I could get a better look.  The 9-year old that I once was awakened and with excitement in my heart, I realized just where I was! Research that was done for a story about my grandfather and his brothers had identified the Indian school my grandmother had mentioned.  It was actually this one, the Chilocco Indian School.  Only 7 miles north of our new home was the location of one of the places my grandfather's footsteps had once taken him.  Talk about a moment of serendipity!

It was back in the early days of March this year when the photo above was taken.  The gate was locked and one could only imagine where that long road behind it would take someone.  After a bit of research, I found that the school had been closed since 1980 and that much of the campus had fallen into disrepair.  Still I wondered what it would be like to go beyond those gates.

Mike and I had the chance to do just that this past weekend during the reunion celebration for Chilloco graduates and former students.  Although we couldn't do much more than drive through a small part of it, it was the opportunity that I had been only imagining about for the past 3 months.  It was a funny feeling and a strange sense of presence to think about my grandfather and his brothers bringing trailer loads of horses on this very same road well over 75 years ago.  It was sad to see the state of poor condition that the campus is now in but I could only imagine how wonderful it would have looked on the day that he came there to sell the last of his horses.  And to think, his baby granddaughter was now seeing that very same campus in the late spring of 2019.

The world that was once so big is now shrinking each and every day.  
I found my grandfather Saturday afternoon in the most unlikely of places.
When my time comes, I will be looking for him in the "sweet by and by".
There probably won't be a need for introductions. 
I'm sure we will recognize one another right away.

The Brown Brothers

William, Ephraim, Luther, Elmer, and Andrew

Grandfather is the youngest boy on the right.

Grandfather wouldn't it be nice to be THIS young again?

This trophy is from the 1912 Kansas State Fair and was awarded by the Morgan Horse Association for the Brown Brothers' horse, Dude Hudson.  100 years later, I entered the trophy into a display at the fair back home in Hutchinson.  The 7 years that have come and gone since this photo was taken have been filled with many interesting life changes for me.

Dude Hudson, one of the first of many Morgans owned by the Brown Brothers of Halstead, Ks.