Charlie Continued..

Last week, I started telling you about my visit with Charlie and Neola Richter. There’s no way I will be able to do the man and his story justice, but it needs to be shared nevertheless.
Charlie graduated from New Rockford High School in 1945 and joined the Marine Corps in 1946. He wanted to go to college, but they were still drafting at the time, and one of his buddies convinced him. After being stationed in California for two years, he could either sign up for four more years or take a discharge. He took the discharge and got married to Neola in 1950. “She’s never thought of divorcing me, but she has said murder occasionally,” said Charlie as they both laughed. At this point, Neola came over to explain.
“We’ve been married a long time, sixty-three years on October 1st. We’ve been lucky, how many couples get up to sixty-three years? We have a big family.” They raised their seven kids in New Rockford, moving between their farm house and town house every summer. In 1952, Charlie’s father passed away, leaving him the farm.
“I’ve been scratching ever since,” said Charlie. “There are a lot of things that you don’t understand until you farm. You’re trying to scratch a living out of the ground, and Mother Nature hails you out, but you always go back for more.” Besides farming, Charlie drove across the country as a semi driver for fourteen years. He has been in every state except Hawaii and Alaska. “There’s a lot of country out there,” he said, speaking of his love for travel despite the fact that they have always stayed in North Dakota. Neola added that she doesn’t mind the traveling, “as long as you’re home by sun down.”
We talked about traveling a bit more, and when I told them I would be going to college in Idaho, Charlie excused himself for a minute and came back with a huge atlas—the one he used as a truck driver. He showed me Idaho’s page and the route he took, pointing out Rexburg, the town I will be moving to, and telling me about the dam that broke there in 1976. He told me I will have to check out the whole museum they have dedicated to it, because every time he tried to visit it on his way through Idaho, it was closed. I promised I would, and also that I would take pictures and bring them back when I visit next year.
Once again, I am out of word space this week. Next week, I promise—pinky promise—that I will finally cover the reason I spoke with Charlie in the first place. But seriously, if you have never gotten sidetracked while spending an evening talking to your grandparents or, in this case, someone else’s, I highly recommend it. You never know what little things you will be amazed to learn from them.
Always, Anna