two hundred fifty two

The things you look at, do you really see them?

 

Wesley Hanna

This man was born in 1900 and died in 1985, he is still alive in my mind and heart. He lived near the town I grew up in, in fact he sold the land to the city where they built their water reservoir. The house he had lived in for 70 years was built from the trees and field stone on the land. 

I didn’t know him until he was older but he had lived a full life of business and farming. He was obviously a large powerful man as a younger man. Now he was a quiet gentle man with a bad heart. His wife was a few years younger but limited by age. 

The interaction between them was fun to watch after more than 60 years together I only saw the end product. I’m sure there were epic fights, crisis and joys along the way. 

I made the mistake at first seeing them as old people. The longer I talked with Wesley the more I realized his mind and spirit were still young. The wear and tare of life plus many hard years had taken it’s toll. I’m beginning to understand this in my own life.

Wesley had not lived more than five miles from where he was born. I’m not sure he traveled much. Some may think he had a limited life but I absolutely know he had a full life. 

He was informed about current events and history. He was well read and owned an amazing amount of books. He quoted everything from Henry Thoreau, William Shakespeare to the King James Bible. He had a college degree and had the wisdom and sharp mind of a farmer. 

By farmers mind I mean he was a weather man, knew commodity markets, math, engineering, carpentry, plumbing, electricity, mechanics, understood the handling and care of animals and yes he could grow and harvest crops. He ran heavy equipment, worked in coal mines and did custom farming. He was a leader in the local Grange, active on the school board and I think he was a county politician.

I didn’t ask about his past because he didn’t seem to live there, what I did find was a man who taught me how to “see”.

I remember the day we walked through his garden. He pointed out the smells, sounds and touched everything and had me touch it. We were on an adventure through an amazing place. From the fuzz on green tomatoes, the smell of a hot radish to the sweet milk of sweet corn. Everything was amazing to him. 

At breakfast he had looked out of the same farm house kitchen window for all of those years and always saw something interesting. How the leaves on the trees were predicting the weather, how the cows were standing or laying down in the pasture, how the insects were acting and what the birds were showing him. 

Wesley had the spark in his aging eyes of a curious child, I wondered if he had learned this or was he just born that way. All I knew is that I wanted to see the world like he did. 

Over the years I remembered Wesley and when I felt like I was missing something or bored with my surroundings I would focus on the things around me and try to see them like Wesley. 

There were a few people in my life that impacted me profoundly, Wesley Hanna was one of them. I doubt he had a clue what he had taught me but perhaps he did.  

(the picture is a stock Ohio farm picture not Wesley's farm)