Nebraska, Autumn 2010

Lucius Reed .

William H. Reed .

Mrs. William H. Reed .

H. D. Reed? Son of William Reed

We made the mostly-annual pilgrimage to South-East Nebraska this weekend, and, owing to previous experience, it was a much different trip than I was expecting. Since my mother died, my last remaining connections to the place have dwindled and faded away, so the last few trips there have been, at least on a personal level, disappointing. Because of my history in the place and the deep, deep roots my family has there, to have it reduced to “just another place within easy driving distance where we can get away for a night or two” has left me feeling, in a manner of speaking, homeless. Driving up, visiting the cemetery to remind myself of all the relevant dates, and driving through “downtown” – two blocks of shoddy economy and old pickup trucks – just isn’t fulfilling.

In the 1980’s, as relatives began to die off, the house here at Osage became a sort of family dumping ground for all the leftover detritus that no one else wanted to claim. Every dish and pillowcase, every photo album and bit of ugly kitch ended up boxed and tossed into the basement. Little by little, Michelle and I have been culling, finding new homes for some of it, tossing a great deal of it to the curb – I mean, who really needs yet another 60’s era copy of “Blue Boy” – keeping only the items with some use or with real family significance.

There was a box of framed pictures. Large, ornate, multi-leveled frames with small pictures matted in the center. I had no idea who they were except for one, and about him I wasn’t even certain. I called him “Lucius”, after a relative of mine who died in 1880 and who, with his brother William, founded the town of Weeping Water, Nebraska. I have a vague memory – more of a feeling than anything else – of my mother calling him that, too.

This box of pictures, seven in all, has been sitting in my basement since 1984. For some reason, I got it in my head that those pictures needed to go back where they came from, or at least, back to the Weeping Water Museum. My hope would be that, besides clearing out some small space in my own home, they might be able to identify the people in the pictures.

The man in the big picture who I had been calling “Lucius” all these years, is indeed Lucius Reed. Included in the group is his brother, William, William’s wife and their son. The other pictures I’m not sure of. My hope is that, once identified, the folks that run the museum – who are friends of mine from when I was a child – will drop me an email and give me the names.

We got them to the museum and spent a good hour pouring over their archives, talking about the pictures I’d brought up, and, as much as our impatient children would allow, catching up. It was a good visit.