“Home is where the heart is.”
You’ve seen it embroidered on pillow cushions, painted over door hangers, woven in welcome mats; it is a phrase that is kitschy and wildly over-used, but somehow it always manages to be perfectly true. Though my heart lives in many places, its true “home” is in the state of Kansas. My genes descend from long lineages of Kansan farming on both my father’s and mother’s sides. Mom, hailing from the eastern side of the state, and dad, hailing from the west joined forces and moved to California in the late 1980’s with my then 14 month old big sister. They settled in to the Golden State quite well, and welcomed me into the world soon after.
I can remember visits to my grandparents’ houses back from when I was merely two years old, though I know there were visits before then. Many fond memories fill my heart when I think of these places, the places where my heritage was fostered and part of my identity formed. Some memories are of smells: freshly cut wheat, saw dust, and pure, clean air. Some are of sounds: barn cats meowing, the what truck’s creaky door, the hum of the combine engine. Each feeling resonates through me when I think of those special places.
During the August of 2012 I spent two weeks visiting my family and documenting the places significant to me and my heritage. Little did I know then that this would launch into a major ongoing project and continued exploration.
Below are a curated selection of images from that trip, previously presented as a book with the words above as their preface.
Stafford, KS The home town of my paternal ancestry. It is a rural community home to 1,027 people. Stafford has one high school, three churches, one small hospital, and one pizza restaurant.
Main Street, Stafford
Many farmers lease out the mineral rights to parts of their land to oil companies for drilling
Zenith Community Church
Old school house next to the Zenith Community Church.
Power lines across a dusky sky, Stafford, Kansas
A deer grazes in a recently harvested field of dry corn along the road to my grandparent’s farm.
The CO-OP is the center of agricultural life, where farmers bring their crops during harvest time
Kanza CO-OP grain elevator, Zenith, Kanasas
Shop warehouse at the Kanza CO-OP grain elevator, Zenith, Kanasas
Kanza CO-OP grain elevator, Zenith, Kanasas
Passageway to the inside of the CO-OP elevator
Wheat grain left on the ground from harvests past. Wheat is typically harvest during the month of june.
A fallen corn husk remains after the recent harvest. Corn is typically harvested during July and August
Grandpa’s combine harvester is silhouetted in the sunset along side the mailbox.
Sign on the shed of the old school house on the farm. Fred McNickle was my great grandfather.
the barn
My Grandpa’s hat rack stands at its post in the front porch
A note on the garage chalkboard written by my mother on behalf of my sister Kari. This note was left sometime between 1987-1991.
Cans of various tools and fixin’s line the wall in the garage
Sign on the door of my grandpa’s workshop. He is a skilled woods craftsman as well as a farmer.
Grandpa’s woodshop, 2012
Band saw
Milo blossoms in the field Northwest of the Farm. Milo is a grain often used in livestock feed.
Soybean pods in the patch of land just north of the farm.
Rural views on the road from Wichita towards Junction City
Lyona Kansas is the home of my mother’s mother. She and her three siblings were raised here and lived in the houses that my second cousins still inhabit today. My Grandmother’s maiden name is Poland. This road is named after their family and is the street on which she grew up.
Unharvested corn field next to my Grandma’s childhood home. This land is still owned and farmed by our family.
Cows in a field in Lyona, Kansas
The Reichart Cemetery is where a large portion of my ancestral family is buried
My great great grandmother and other family member lie nearby
Ancestral family church. Nearby are some of the family homes.
My mom’s first cousin’s tool collection. Some of these belonged to my great grandfather.
Ralph Poland was my great grandfather
On the farm roads of Lyona, Kansas, looking back of the end of a flatbed trailer