When Laura Remembers Harry Potter August 4

When Laura Remembers Harry Potter August 4

When Laura tells her children years from now the story of Harry Potter and The Order of the Phoenix, she will remember where and when she first heard the story. On the way to her great-grandmother’s 90^th birthday party on the beach at Corpus Christi. Four long days from her home in Liberty and back, strapped in the rear seat of Papa and Nana’s big car, stopping every couple of hours at Burger King or McDonald’s for chicken nuggets and a toy. Listening every minute on the road to the 17 tapes telling the story of Harry’s struggle with Lord Voldemort. His friendship with Hermione and Ron. His love of Sirius Black. His suspicion of Snape. His awe and admiration of Dumbledore.

Laura may not remember the blowout we had at 70 miles an hour on I-35 just out of Temple. The noise was that of a giant semi bearing down on us from the rear. We pulled to the shoulder and scrambled out of the car. I-35’s reputation as trucker’s alley from south Texas to Canada is well earned. Giant 18-wheelers two abreast roar by just inches from our stalled car. We run from the car across a grassy area and an access road to stand beneath a scraggly tree. I call AAA on my cell phone. Forty-five minutes later a Temple Tow truck drives up behind our car. A few minutes later, the driver has replaced our blown tire with the baby version that all recent model cars now carry.

Gary Crossley Ford in Liberty had put four new Goodyear tires on our 99 Crown Vic just days before we left for Texas. “About 10 miles,” the tow driver said when I asked for the nearest Goodyear dealer. “Ask for Roy or Nathan.” “I’m Nathan,” said the man behind the desk a short time later. A few minutes later he showed us a tire filled with ground rubber. He had drawn a small circle on the tire wall. “See this hole?’ He asked. “That’s what caused the blowout.” He said we would have to buy a new tire.

“But it’s a new tire. What about the guarantee?” “ Something punctured the tire. It’s not guaranteed against road hazard.” Our conversation is beginning to heat up. “Let me call my dealer back home,” I say. When Todd Crossley comes on the phone and I explain everything to him, he says, “Tell them to put on a new tire. Bring me the bill. We will reimburse you.” My love of my hometown and my faith in its local business people is again affirmed.

“Haven’t we stopped here before?” Laura asks as we pull up in front of Osceola Cheese near seven o’clock in the evening on our last day out. We had just spent the day at Silver Dollar City. We had gotten soaked on water rides first thing that morning and walked around wet all day, giving us relief from the 100 degree heat. “Yes, we stopped here another time on our way home,” we say to Laura. “It’s tradition,” Laura exclaims as she jumps from the car.

The last Harry Potter tape plays out near Clinton. Laura asks to hear tape number two again, the one where Harry visits Sirius. It ends on the outskirts of Liberty. “I’m anxious to see Daddy,” says Laura. “Can I run up to the door as soon as we stop?”

Time with family we seldom see. Playing in the waves at the beach. Pizza at the pool. A giant birthday party. A day at Silver Dollar City. Staying enroute with artist friends and viewing their work. Dinner at a Czeck Restaurant in West, Texas. The bucking inflated rubber horse at the pool in Kimberling City, Missouri. Eight days and 2300 miles on the road. All the time hoping that Dolores Umbridge will be deposed as Hogwart’s Grand Inquisitor and Dumbledore will regain his position.

Queen of Angles Miles 6365-6405 August 10

I’ve stopped several times on hot days at Queen of Angels Monastery to fill my water bottles. But I can’t remember the sister’s name when she comes to greet me today. “Imelda. Like in shoes,” she says. Bingo! Next time I come, I’ll think of Imelda Marcos and her thousands of shoes. And I’ll call Sister Imelda by name. I watched this tranquil place rise in a cow pasture along side a country road east of Liberty over several months. They opened their doors in 2000. Nine sisters of the Benedictine Order currently live here. This week they are holding Vacation Bible School in Excelsior Springs.

Sister Imelda grew up in a family of nine children in Nebraska. Her parents both considered religious life “until they met in the watermelon patch”. Her parents were always helping the priests. Two of Sister Imelda’s sisters became sisters. Sister Imelda took her vows when she was 21. “I love to talk. I just had to help tell everybody about God’s love. More than 50 years now, Sister Imelda has lived the simple community life of prayer and work. She is radiant as she hands me a written prayer to take with me. “Please pray this prayer that we will have more women come to us to live and work among us.”

Time comes for evening prayers as we sit talking in the living room and Sister Imelda must go. As prioress at Queen of Angels, she has obligations. I let myself out and stand for a while by my bike, watching cows in the field across the road, hearing the cicadas and the birds, feeling the gentle breeze. I ride this road in front of this place more often than I stop, but each time I pass I feel the peace and purpose that reside here.

The Plattsburg Rotary Club Miles 6405-6495 -August 11

The Plattsburg Rotary Club has gathered for their weekly Monday noon meeting in a basement room of the Clinton County Courthouse. Jennifer Turley has invited me to come and tell about my Greater Liberty Bike Ride. Jennifer is part owner of JJ’s Restaurant just across the street and is catering today’s lunch.

“From Liberty to Plattsburg to Stewartsville to Cameron to Lawson to Excelsior and back to Liberty—the first Century I ever rode. I call it the Plattsburg Century. I used to come here a lot when Bert & Ernie’s were serving their Kay-loin Sandwich. Then they closed and I quit coming. Now JJ’s is here. And I’m back.”

“I named my ride Greater Liberty because it is greater liberty I seek for those who think they must limit their lives because they have MS. I also seek greater liberty for those who have been hurt because someone hates them for religious or racial reasons. I seek more publicity for the good guys than the bad guys get.”

The hour from high noon to 1 PM is packed. We are called to order. We face the flag and recite the Pledge of Allegiance. We go through the line and get our food. The business session begins at 12:25. They are buying shoes for children in Honduras. “How much time do you need?” Club President Randy Broyles, asks me before we begin. “I can fit my remarks to whatever time we have,” I say. “We begin to lose people after one o’clock,” he says.

Jennifer rises to introduce me. “One of the good things about owning a restaurant is all the interesting people you meet. Ed came in about three weeks ago. We were fascinated by his story. Ed, it’s all yours.” In 10 minutes I tell them about MS and HateBusters and bike riding and answer several questions. They are with me. I can tell. I finish at five minutes to one. Several come to talk to me. We go outside for a picture.

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