A Kansas Audio Odyssey
A Kansas Audio Odyssey
Driving east toward Quinter, Kansas one Sunday evening last year, my thoughts centered on the week ahead, and the extraordinary man I was about to meet. I am an audio book publisher, and after seeing this man on CBS News, I wrote him a letter asking if I could acquire the audio rights to the book he wrote, and would he also do the reading. "Yes," came the answer to both questions from R. Waldo McBurney, centenarian, beekeeper, record-setting gold medalist, harmonica player, and author.
I was attracted to his book, My First 100 Years!, by its optimistic title. Upon reading it, however, I realized that Waldo's story proved that the promises of abundant life given to us in the Bible are true if we live according to its precepts, and I wanted to help spread that good news. Arriving in Quinter was the next step to fulfilling that desire.
The entire town embraced me and my project from the outset. I was given a quiet room in the beautiful Jay Johnson Public Library where I could set up my recording equipment and record for as long as necessary. The county newspaper took pictures, and wrote a nice article about me, and the townsfolk introduced themselves freely. They welcomed me as if I had just returned home from an extended trip. If Quinter is indicative of all Kansas, I know why Dorothy was anxious to get back home from Oz.
On Monday morning, I met with Waldo at his office where we took care of some papers and agreed upon a schedule for the week's work. There was an instant ease between us. We were two men--generations apart--but with a common goal of furthering his testimony of faith. As we worked, visited, broke bread, and walked the streets of Quinter, I was in awe of his energy, intellect, wit, and wisdom.
All my male role models had expired in their eighties, or before, and most of them had suffered compromised mental faculties in their later years through either dementia, or Alzheimer's disease. Both they and I had been robbed of this fellowship that I now enjoyed with a 104-year old man whom I had just met, yet who seemed close as a brother.
At lunchtime, we walked to the senior center where I met more of Waldo's family and more townspeople. With a precision born of tradition, when the noon whistle blew, we rose to our collective feet, faced the American flag, and with hands over hearts in a town carved out of amber waves of grain, we pledged our allegiance. The blessing extended beyond the food to encompass the comings and goings of this visitor, and sought comfort for friends who were ailing or grieving. My face grew wet, proud to be among such people. Even without this demonstration, I knew they loved me because they introduced me to a Kansas delicacy--bierocks!
I had been warned by the librarian that school children hang out in the library from 3:30PM to 5:00PM and use the computers, and since our quiet recording room was adjacent to the computer area, we might consider suspending operations between those hours. Such news would normally distress me, but my mind focused instead on the idea that school children in Quinter frequented the library after school, and I wished for a way to make this a nationwide law. I was shocked at 5:00PM on Monday when we finished work and came out of our room to find the library full with children silently using the computers. My admiration for Quinter parents ballooned.
For the next three days, Waldo and I worked to record his book, breaking only for the daily lunch routine at the senior center. He read and re-read, without complaint, everything that I asked him to read. The one and only sign I got that he was growing tired of this audio book business was on Thursday as we walked to lunch. It was a particularly beautiful day, and Waldo remarked that he should be out with his bees, but then quickly added that today, our table lined up to eat first.
Parkinson's Law states that work will expand to fill the time allotted for it. At 5:00PM on Thursday we finished our recording. Waldo and his wife, Vernice, had invited me to supper at their home, so I packed up the equipment, and drove the shortest distance possible to a home cooked meal. Parting from loved ones is a weakness I'll always have, so after a great meal and a short visit, I determined that I had interrupted these lives enough. As one would quickly remove a bandage to minimize pain, I took my leave. The balance of the evening I packed and settled my motel bill so I would not disturb the front office by my 5:00AM departure.
Driving west in the early morning darkness, I reviewed my days in Quinter, and the extraordinary people I met there. Behind me, a red-orange sun rose over green fields of future food. It's not too late, I thought. I could turn around and be back there in an hour; back to where school children hang out at the library, and have respect for their elders. Back to where townspeople pledge their allegiance at noon, and welcome strangers come to dine. But home has its pull, too, and clicking my heels will not land me in Quinter.
Over the next few months, I pieced together the readings that Waldo made for me, and added a bit of his harmonica playing so you might know the breadth of talent incumbent in this Kansas centenarian, beekeeper, record-setting gold medalist, and author. I am pleased to present My First 100 Years!, by R.Waldo McBurney--his story, in his own words, and in his own voice.
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