Dads First Day of School

This story happened before I was born, so you ask, “How do you know?”. I don’t exactly, but I have some photos, I listened to my father’s stories, and I imagined the rest.

It is August, 1918 in Central Illinois, out in the country, a mile or so from the village called Oakley, four miles as the crow flies from Cerro Gordo, and in those days, an hour’s horse and buggy ride from Decatur.