Preparing for Osawatomie

     Howard had his secretary arrange my airline reservations and I needed to travel to Sky Harbor in Phoenix to make a 2:00 PM flight. At least I had enough time to make my flight without driving like a mad man. At my desk, I looked for events, if any in Osawatomie, about which I could report.
     “Damn!!! Mid winter, Mid Week? And I need to report on something happening in a no-where place like Osawatomie, Kansas. I lowered my head onto my hands, rubbed my temples and released a loud sigh. As I glanced up, I noticed everyone in the room watching me. Taking a deep breath, I opened Firefox, typed Osawatomie in Google Search, and began my research.
     I found the official Osawatomie website, and looked for anything of interest. First I checked to see what was happening this week, and there was nothing but a Legislative breakfast, and that was last Saturday. Then I looked for events in March.
     “Hmmm. Nothing,” I thought. “Well, I’m not going to say anything, and I’ll go anyway. It will just serve the old fart right.”

   Then I focused on Osawatomie History, and found a couple of items that interested me. August 30, 1856: When John Brown’s son was shot, he heard that Ruffian (Pro Slavery) forces numbering between 250 and 400 had planned to loot and burn Osawatomie to the ground, then move on to Topeka and Lawrence to do the same. John Browns 40 men held out for a volley or two, then were forced back.
    “Maybe there will be John Brown Days in August and citizens will burn the town to the ground.
     “Thats’ not even funny, I mused.” Then something else caught my eye.
     The Osawatomie State Hospital: I remember Dwayne Joe telling me something about that. Yes, it had been on the cutting edge of psychiatry early in the 20th century. I read on: It had first been called the Kansas Insane Asylum when it opened in 1859. Then my mind drifted to visions of men and women for whom families could no longer provide care, people who would be warehoused for the remainder of their lives. They were simply abandoned, left to rot. I looked away from the computer screen and felt a little sick. I had hardly moved for some time when Isaiah Renkin walked over and placed his hand on my shoulder.
     “You okay?”
      My eyes moved slowly toward his. “Yeah, Isaiah. I was just thinking about something.”
     I looked at my watch and saw that it was after 4:00. I packed my things, and moved slowly to the front door. I had images of men, women, and children in my mind, wearing white hospital garb, just walking in circles, over and over. As I opened the door, the fresh mountain air revived me somewhat, but I couldn’t shake those images.
     I swung into my car, started the engine, headed up Hardscrabble Mesa Road, turned right at Edna’s Café, and then left onto Ute Trail. It felt good to be home. The cabin was cool and smelled of sweet Ponderosa Pine and last night’s Chili. Cheyenne trotted out of the bedroom with her tail swinging lightly. She pushed her head against my leg. “It’s good to see you too girl.”
     I pulled some ice from the fridge, poured myself a double bourbon, opened the front door, and found a chair on the porch. I began to relax and felt the peace I had missed for so long in Kansas.
     I knew I needed to pack and ready myself for my trip, but not right now. No, not right now.
                         
                                                          ....................To be continued.