July 5th...

We have two fellows from France visiting us this week, and we've been trying to give them a "Kansas" experience. So last night, for July 4th, we headed to Piedmont, Kansas, just east of Beaumont, Kansas (note: the "monts" are an exaggeration of Kansas proportions). We were going to the rodeo.

Peidmont is a town of maybe 150 inhabitants. The school is long since closed, the post office is a fine brick building, the only one left standing where a downtown may once have been set, and about 12 feet wide... the flag was, indeed, at half-mast for the Reagan memorial. We saw at least two churches that were trim and ready for business which had probably been concluded in the morning.

As we turned off the main highway, we followed a half-dozen cars a mile south to where the first houses showed up beyond the green meadows. The first picture I wanted to take was of a sweet old two-story farmhouse, the flag flying from the gate of its picket fence on that road to Piedmont. We scoped out the scene, discovered the rodeo arena was behind the old school, parked at the end of a long row of cars and pickups, and hiked 1/4 mile to the arena. We carried nothing but money and insect repellent; Sam and Ionel had cameras.

The stands were full - 500? 1000? people had paid the $5.00 entry fee ("contestants must pay"). I headed us toward the concession stand, since I wanted to check on the ready supply of cold water in defense against the 85 degree, 100 percent humidity of the night. Turned out that was also a good place to take our stand... if we had wanted to sit down, we needed to have gotten there earlier, as the stands were full, and the wide concrete walk surrounding the arena had it's full complement of lawn chairs packed two deep against the wire fence.

Jay headed for the announcer's stand to ask him to tell folks about our French guests, which he did very smoothly, after some lessons from Jay on how to pronounce the names. The two brothers are from northwest of Paris, and Jay met them on the Internet, playing Everquest. No applause after the announcement - guess it didn't quite register.

But the croud was polite and relaxed and obviously enjoying themselves. We saw calf-roping, barrel racing, and bull riding. Mind you, this is the first rodeo I'd been to since I was pregnant with Rachel, my 21-year-old daughter, who was with us that night. I teased her about being at her second rodeo. We took some walks together, she and I, around the arena and up to where the fireworks were being prepared, then through the dirt streets of the town. We talked about a new boyfriend and babies and firefighting and beer...she's a joy to talk to. I saw the second and third pictures I wish I had a camera for as we walked: the entry to the rodeo in the sunset; a family on the lawn decorated with small flags, with one little girl sharing her sparkler show with the passersby.

We found seats for about the last hour we were there, which was nice as the fireworks started at 10 pm... they turned off the lights to the arena, the stars started to show, then were dimmed by a wonderful show. It probably wasn't a spectacular as the big ones I've seen, but it was the best small town effort I've ever had the privilege to watch, and of course, very memorable for the circumstances. Coming home, we watched the fireworks of God as the first thunderstorm of the night rolled over the prairie.

Thanks, Piedmont, for a great show and a lovely evening.