The definition of rural America is: where three people get together and two of them are related while the third person knows the other two real good.
The first 17 years of life were living in rural America. The north-south road was two miles long and the east-west road was one mile long. There were eight farm families and six of them were relatives of mine.
The children all attended a one-room, one-teacher rural school, grades one through eight.
After grade eight, the students rode a school bus to New Richland High School. The students who rode the bus were referred to as “country kids.” The students living in town were referred to as “town kids.” Surprisingly, all the students got along and at high school graduation, they were all New Richland High School alumni.
One of the six related farm families living in my rural America had the last name of Haug. The Haugs had three children, a son and a daughter older than I and a daughter younger than I. The oldest daughter, Ruth, married a farmer named Russell Hanson. Thus, whenever we got together, we qualified as being part of the rural America definition.
I first got to know Russell at an unfortunate car accident. I had just gotten my driver’s license and was on my way to an event at New Richland High School. As I came to a crossroad, I saw two cars hit head on with two occupants in the front set of one vehicle. As a brand new 16-year-old driver, I panicked as to what to do. About that time a calm Russell Hanson arrived as a second person on the scene. He moved me aside and checked their pulse and calmly told me to go back and wait in my car as there was nothing else I could do. They were both deceased.
After graduation from New Richland High School, John Hanson (a younger brother of Russell) and I joined the Navy and went to Mankato College on the G.I. Bill, both getting a degree and going out into the working world.
During all this, I would cross paths once in a while with Ruthie and Russ. The more I saw of the two of them, the more I realized they enjoyed life and both had an infectious laugh. They also taught me the following statement is most certainly true: You may take the boy from the country, but you will never take the country from the boy.
On Saturday, Nov. 21, 2020, Russell received a command: “I have called you. You are mine to dwell in a place I have prepared you.”
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Bob is a retired AAL (Aid Association for Lutherans) agent, currently working on his master’s degree in Volunteering. His wife, Genie, is a retired RN, currently working on her doctor’s degree in Volunteering. They have two children, Deb in North Carolina, and Dan in New York. Bob says if you enjoy his column, let him know. If you don’t enjoy it, keep on reading, it can get worse. Words of wisdom: There is always room for God.