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Ponca City, Oklahoma is a
town with a population of around 30,000. Probably, the outlying district
past the city limits are that much or more. In any modest prairie towns
there were numbers of old historic homes. It was through these old homes
Dee and her friend Chelsea walked for exercise. Driving past them was one
thing but to slowly walk by was another experience.
The hail storm earlier had
given the home owners insurance money to do necessary repairs. Along with
these repairs were the lovely new colors of paint on the exteriors. Each
home was with a careful harmony of hue looking to have been designed by
professionals.
There was a street sign
marking the area as to being heritage homes. The two women had more or
less grown up in and around this very town and it was like they were
stepping back to some forty years ago when these houses were somewhat
newer but certainly no better in appearance than they were now.
One house was so beautiful
with a full veranda around the total structure. The large posters of the
porch were standing on the hewn squares of rock which were a rich dark tan
color. A burgundy paint decorated those posters and lest there is a
standing out of that color in only one place there was also a portion
between the gables to have the same color. That decoration looked a
little like fish scales and with the burgundy color calling attention to
it the high accent was striking as well.
One of the houses was
painted with shades of tans. The columns on it were more like pillars. The
porch was totally different from a veranda but it was equally as striking
with a deep dark red color on that porch and down the wide steps. The
side walk leading to the street came all the way to the curb and widened
out to what was probably, a total car's length. The tall curved roof made
this house different and beautiful.
“Chelsea, do you remember
when we were kids and the houses looked just like this along here?”
“I do remember. But, seems
like they have never been this beautiful since then.” Chelsea was
reflective.
“There is a strange feeling
here too. Do you notice it? Almost like living in another time. Even
the rich growth, the flora, seems to dictate to another mood. What is
it?” Dee was quick to pick up on the moods of things.
“I don't know.” Chelsea
was thoughtful. “I suppose it is all the living and life to have gone on
here. For instance, that house over there? One of my friends daughters
lived there with her first husband. They are divorced now and he lives
there alone. That house over on that side was where one of the girls
lived who was in a class with me at the high school. I think it is just
all the memory. So many generations of people with all their histories
left here.”
The cool of late dusk was
upon them too and Dee was glad when Chelsea wanted to walk back toward
her own home. “I'm ready to turn back. Something about the shadows even
seems stronger.” Dee reached up to touch one of the leaves of a red bud
tree. “Look how much larger these leaves are than on my old clay hill.
They sure make a deep shadow all around at this time of the evening.
There is a strength to that too.”
“Probably these yards hold
years of having been cultivated by one loving family after another. It is
no wonder they are so verdant with these rich dark greens.” Chelsea
commented.
As they walked past one of
the homes, Dee couldn't help but notice its architecture as to being
Spanish in origin. “Isn't this a rare home?”
“This house was once owned
by a doctor.” Chelsea told Dee. “Later on my daughter's uncle and his
wife bought it. And, I don't know who owns it now.”
“It is a stucco, and I
don't care about them.” Dee commented.
“Why not?” Chelsea wanted
to know.
“Oh, I don't know. I guess
because Gramma Jones lived in one over at Foraker. Seems like Dad was
always having to repair the surface of it for her. Also, I don't think
it was very well insulated which made it cold in the winter. There are
more heating capabilities with wood too. Of course, today with insulation
I'm sure this is different.”
For Dee, what started out
just as a walk for exercise turned out to be the nicest of gleaned
information from her friend. They had driven through these streets many
times before and not once was this much knowledge about the residents of
these homes shared. It was like a tiny, misty trip to another world and
if it had lasted only briefly it didn't matter because this softened the
edges of a tedious day for her. |
