Summer of 1952, Doyle Russell loaded up his family of six,
into their 1929 Chevrolet truck, leaking fumes and outfitted with a homemade
canvas cover stretched over the back, a truck Doyle’s daughter Mary
affectionately dubbed “Tooky” for that was the sound the engine made as it
puttered along, tooky, tooky, tooky…, and ventured away from his once-again-hailed-out
wheat crop in Weld County, chugged up over the Continental Divide, and moseyed into
the high valley country of Western Colorado, peach country. His hope was to
find an affordable peach farm where he and his family could prosper and get
away from the hardluck dryland farming in Weld
County.
I don’t know how many inquiries he made over there but I do
know that his plan didn’t pan out and soon the family returned home, the truck
laden with peaches, many of them bruised and overripe but suitable for canning
and preserves.
Bob Russell remembers that trip well, especially the trip
home, for he and his brother, Ken, and sister Mary rode in the back with all
those peaches, actually perched atop those baskets of peaches. The two older
kids invented a game, picking up some of the riper peaches, grading them on
just how “ugh” they were, then tossing them into the road ditches, all the
while making sure Doyle and Frances
did not witness this. Bob joined in to their scandalous game.
To this day, in August of the year when
Palisade peaches make their way to our
roadside stands from across the divide, and I bring home a box of them for our
enjoyment, Bob bends over the peaches, inhales their fragrance, and recalls
that summer excursion, an a 64-yr-old memory brought to life again for just a
moment. How different his life would have been, the son of a Palisade peach
farmer, growing up on the Western Slope, away from the crowds and traffic of
the Front Range.
Instead Doyle Russell bought yet another dryland farm, about
four and a half miles north of Wellington, right along the road that was soon
to become I-25, the busiest thoroughfare in Colorado. The family lived there for the next forty-seven years and
rarely thought of that trip across the mountains, that other lifestyle that
almost was.
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