So while they slept quietly in their suite in a hotel on the edge of the old market in Omaha a few hours away Mother’s house was filling up with her sisters and their offspring and their kid’s kids, all of them dressed in a sea of red. While Donna was still lingering in her slumber her hair fanned across the bed this Husker is up and loafing with a group of locals, old timers and down town residents in a coffee shop two blocks up in the old market. By seven forty five the husker was back in the room with coffee and back at the family homestead four little boys were arguing outside the kitchen window about were arguing about which of the pick up football teams got to be the mighty Nebraska Corn Huskers and who had to be Penn State with their stupid blue and white uniforms. A tussle broke out that was some where between a school yard fight, and a football game. Each boy taking a cheap shot or a punch at another as they ran by or tackled them, just otherwise good kids being rough and tumble as boys will often do. There is always a buzz and an energy on game weekends that starts on Friday afternoons and continues to build up until game time on Saturday. So while the little boys outside were being joined by the bigger boys, who were more commonly know as the men in the family the game grew to a seven on seven exercise the females were still in the house. Girls in the sitting playing dolls in the living room and a few dressed like cheerleaders bounding through the foyer chanting and screeching. The women busied themselves in the kitchen and dining room cleaning up from the morning meal of yesterdays and that morning’s eggs cooked on the old cast iron skillet, bacon grease still wafting through the air. Soon the families would pile in to their Chevy Suburbans, and red mini vans, the occasional sedan for the older folks and the assorted king cab trucks before heading to Lincoln for the rest of the pre-game activities.
While this is happening Donna is slipping into her jeans and red blouse that she had bought for just this occasion, her hair pulled back into a long soft ponytail, running shoes. The last load of plates is put into the second dishwasher and the skillet is rinsed and seasoned by hand left out to air dry. The skillet was a huge old cast iron job that had been passed between grandmother and her oldest grand daughter as a wedding gift for generations. It had traveled with it’s keeper to the family’s kitchens for holidays and pregame meals for the last seventy five years. The Husker and Donna sat over breakfast at the hotel that consisted of wheat toast, eggs over medium, potatoes, and enough bacon to kill an otherwise healthy man. Such indulgences were rarely taken except for Sunday morning brunches but it was after all a tradition, so there was no fruit plate and a small portion of whole grains he typically had.
The meal itself reminded Donna of the Miners, laborers and mill workers from back home, it was the type of meal they would eat at Rusty’s diner. Rusty’s was the only place to eat in the small town she grew up in other than the bars, sportsman’s clubs and the occasional church fund raiser. While they sat there eating it all felt a bit too familiar, a bit too much like home, sure it wasn’t a meal in a cinderblock building surrounded by large dirt and grease covered rough men. Farmers weren’t eating at the counter and old timers weren’t talking to each other from table to table spinning tales about hunting and how much rain they had while nursing their 3rd cup of coffee. She wasn’t worried about falling into conversations with yokels that life’s lot was based on being a member of the lucky sperm club rather than hard work and making ones own breaks. She still was thinking about all those times sitting in that cinderblock diner and all the things she hated about where she had come from, the hopeless acceptance and despair, the unspoken social classes and bigoted closed minds that lacked desire for anything more than what they already had. Until something made her remember who she was at Rusty’s with most often, it was her mother’s brother Dave. The more she thought being at Rusty’s the she just couldn’t recall more than a few times, once maybe twice in her life being there with her family but instead is was Dave who took her to the diner, many times at the beginning or end of a day trip to the city, sometimes it was Columbus other times they ventured into Pittsburgh. He took her to a play once, she remembered sitting there and marveling at the people and the large chandeliers and gold paint that adorned the walls and ceilings.
There were days at museums imagining what the dinosaurs must have looked like and pretending as she walked thought a rooms setup to look like a Greek city and how it must have felt to be have lived back then and art the galleries looking art replica’s and lesser know paintings by the masters displayed next to a random glob of colors also passing for art . Dave was not much more than a backwoods man standing larger and meaner looking than most but she never saw him that way. He was the only man in the family who was a manager, he liked to escape from their small town and his role in life at the chemical plant. He was always fun and taking her places, places beyond anything she would have otherwise seen or known, she wondered what would have happened had he never taken her to that diner or anywhere else she went with him. “Are you ready?” the Husker ask. “”When ever you are.” She replied. “ok well we better get going then it’s about an hour to Lincoln and will take a almost two by the time we get parked with the game traffic.” Donna gathered he things and the pair headed out to the car. As they hit highway 80 it was filled with people dressed in red speeding the same direction as them, all rushing to get there and not miss a thing. Mom and the family had arrived about thirty minutes ahead of them in the pre-assigned spaces in the hay market and as soon as they parked and walked up she realized why he was so obsessed, why all of his casual clothes were red or had that damn N on it, the place was alive pulsating with hope and excitement and energy “welcome to Husker nation” he said Donna just kept walking, this made the pregame at WVU seem like a small time high school event. The small normally quiet town was vibrant and alive in a sea of red.
As his family and friends gathered at the tail gate the food was an eclectic mixture of beef and sausages, dips, cheeses and beers. The occasional glass of wine could be found but the only things to eat insight that weren’t assuring cholesterol lowering drugs a healthy future was the fruit fillings surrounded on all sides by butter filled pie crusts. People were excited to see Robert buzzing around him. It was especially festive as mother schemed in the background with her cronies about the possibility of perhaps finally marring off her son. A mother worries about such things you know. Donna was lovely and cordial blending in to the scene as if she had always been there, her mind sharp remembering names and recalling stories she had heard over her time with the Husker to put her new acquaintances at ease. As the game ended they all left hoarse as the small town businessmen jockeyed for his attention as they walked , the larger family farmers shared their concerns, Robert asked about the years yield and the amount or lack of summer rain. One gentleman was teasing him mercilessly about why in the world he would ever leave his home state and how bad it must be to live in DC. One of which he turned to and said “well, it’s not all bad. I met her and I’ve seen your wife so I’d say I’m just a little ahead of the game.” Turns out the man he was replying to was a member of his staff, a man who had been with the Husker for years and was about to be ask to leave the great state of Nebraska to join him in DC as Christy’s permanent replacement. Lingering after the game the Husker continued socializing with life long friends and family while allowing the mad rush of traffic to clear, the pair finally making their way back to the interstate for the drive up I80. Mother found Donna quite charming, she appreciated her small town background, perhaps herself knowing all to well what type of family that it may entail, but those were details for another day and another time.
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