It Takes a Village

Our neighbors from Sixty-Fifth Avenue became a family that helped us raise our children. With our parents residing so far away, they frequently took on the role of stand-in grandparents for school activities. During Trick or Treating, we would gather in one of our driveways for a communal meal, followed by one set of adults distributing candy while others took the children around to collect their treats. On the Fourth of July, we came together to share fireworks, lighting them up for everyone’s enjoyment. Additionally, we celebrated various milestones with parties held in the backyard of Terry and Sue James' home during the warmer months. I cherish the memories of my Avenue family deeply.

A favorite activity of my eldest, Joanna, was Omaha's Railroad Days sponsored by the Durham Museum. The event included riding Ollie the Trolley to three different railroad museums, Lauritzen Gardens, and the Historic Dodge House. With two young children and Ericka working, I needed help maneuvering the event without losing a child or my sanity. One year Terry and Sue stepped in to save the day.

Upon our arrival at the Durham Museum, we encountered numerous families exploring the vibrant exhibits and interacting with displays that showcased historical trains. Joanna quickly became overwhelmed; her voice rose above the din of the crowd, and she refused to stay close to us as we navigated through the throng towards the hallway leading to Ollie the Trolley. Her increased sensitivity to noise and crowds transformed the straightforward act of waiting in line for our trolley ride into a daunting experience. Once we boarded, I found it necessary to sit between Joanna and Josephine, as Joanna struggled to keep her hands to herself. I desperately hoped that the crowd would be less dense on the other side of the bridge in Council Bluffs.

After the fifteen-minute journey, Ollie the Trolley deposited us in front of the Union Pacific Museum. As we stepped through the entrance, we found ourselves immersed in the 1800s, the era when pioneers constructed the Transcontinental Railroad. While Josephine strolled sweetly beside Sue, Joanna dashed through the replica railroad tunnel, gleefully shouting "choo choo"! The kids didn't show much interest in the stereographs or the large mural, so we opted to explore the America Travels by Rail Exhibit instead.  While other children enjoyed sitting in the different train cars and examined the myriad artifacts on display, Joanna was unable to focus and darted through each car while making boisterous sound effects.  I made several attempts to keep her focused with soft reminders, yet her natural curiosity and enthusiasm for trains led to behaviors that tested my patience. After what felt like an eternity, we made the decision to hop back on Ollie so we could head to Lauritzen Gardens.

The second ride on the trolley was a bit smoother, because Terry and Sue sat with Joanna at the back while Josephine and I stayed up front. Upon arrival, we decided to split up the children before navigating through the intricate display of meticulously crafted model trains at the Lauritzen Gardens' exhibit. I watched Terry and Sue wander off with Josephine and couldn't help but feel a growing sense of frazzled annoyance as Joanna’s behavior took center stage. The vibrant colors and mesmerizing movements of the trains were captivating to most, but for Joanna, they were merely a backdrop for her overwhelming impulses and distractions. While I struggled to keep her focused on the intricate landscaping and detailed miniature towns, she darted from one exhibit to another, her excitement bubbling over in an uncontainable whirlwind of energy and chatter. I could see her fascination with the trains turn into a whirlwind of racing thoughts, flitting from one idea to the next, as she tugged at my sleeve, pointing out different features in rapid succession. Resisting the urge to scold her for being difficult, I reminded myself of the beauty of her enthusiasm, even as it pushed me to my limits. It was a constant battle between my desire for a peaceful afternoon appreciating the artistry of the exhibit and my understanding of Joanna's unique way of experiencing the world. Our visit became more about managing each other’s frustrations than fully embracing the charm of the model trains, leaving me to wonder how I could strike a balance between nurturing Joanna’s spirit and finding a semblance of tranquility amidst the chaos.

At long last, we boarded the trolley one last time and headed back to the Durham Museum. After a long morning, both kids were feeling cranky, so we decided to take a break and indulge in a nice lunch at the original Soda Fountain in Union Station! We gathered our order of hotdogs, chips, and root beer floats before settling into vintage chairs at a chrome and Formica table. For a wonderfully joyful ten minutes, the five of us enjoyed our food in tranquility. Joanna was the first to finish, and much to my dismay, she started urging Terry to take her to the gift shop. He quietly consented, provided she understood that they wouldn’t be buying anything. Sue and I breathed a sigh of relief as the two headed toward the shop, leaving behind a blissful silence.

Later, Terry recounted how, as soon as they entered the store, Joanna zipped from one aisle to another, her tiny hands eager to explore everything from model trains to stuffed animals, her excitement palpable. Each time she noticed a new toy, a chorus of "please, Terry!" echoed through the shop, each plea growing more desperate as his “NO” solidified. As her demeanor shifted from joyful eagerness to an exaggerated display of emotion, replete with dramatic sighs and sulks worthy of a trained performer, Terry took her hand and headed towards the exit.

Sue and I glanced up when they made their way into the main terminal, and we heard Joanna's disappointed wails bounce off the walls. Hoping to rescue Terry from the impending meltdown, I stood up, but was surprised to see him scoop her up and hold her directly in front of his face. With a calm expression, he spoke to Joanna until she languidly hung in his grasp, her head drooping in resignation. Once she settled down, he guided her back to our table. Looking at my exhausted children, I concluded it was the perfect moment to return home for some nap time.

As we stepped out into the afternoon sunlight, the kids each hugged Terry and Sue and thanked them for joining us. As I watched the loving scene, it made each chaotic moment of the day a memory worth cherishing. I held onto that thought as we drove home, knowing that through all the ups and downs, our Sixty-fifth Avenue family was just the village we needed to help Ericka and I raise our children.