MERLA chapter 212

One of Della’s best friends was Merla McKee. They had known each other since second grade. Merla lived across the street from Red Deer’s South Elementary while Della lived on top of South Hill. They did many things together and hung out after school — usually at Della’s. They even went to Bible College together although Merla came a year after Della. She began as a student at CBC my first full year. They were also in each other’s wedding party.

Merla married Frank Heck, a young man from the Red Deer Alliance youth group. So Della, Merla and Frank had a long history together. They were married two years after Della and I.

Della and I were both shocked when our friends purchased a farm in Olds, Alberta. We were not so surprised about Frank. He always seems to do well at anything he put his mind to. The man is very bright. But Merla, on the other hand, I could never picture as a farmers wife.

Merla's CBC yearbook photo

Since Olds could be on the way from Saskatchewan to Red Deer when one cut across coountry, we often, no always, stopped to see them on any trips we made from Regina out to visit Della’s family. That was often. It was often easier going west in as straight a route as possible in the winter as the worse of the winter snowstorms usually came out of the north. Every stop with these friends was an overnight stay.

We often arrived early evenings, enjoyed supper, caught up with one another’s current lives and then the reminiscing would begin. Since the three of them all knew the same people I would try to stay involved in the conversation until I got so bored I could no longer keep my eyes open. That meant I was always the first to lose interest in the conversation and head to sleep. The three of them could and would go on for hours. I really was not trying to be rude, but I had no idea who they were talking about and would reach a point when I felt like they might as well be speaking Greek. I had no idea what they were talking about. I had spent two summers in Red Deer working for Alpha Dairy and got to know some of the people, but since they could all got back to their childhood and talk about people I had never heard of or only knew the name — I was lost.

There were times they would tell me, “You met so-and-so at…” Maybe I did, maybe I didn’t. In may cases I probably had met the person, but the meeting was so short or I stood by while one or more of the three of them connected on such a deep level that I may as well have been wallpaper.

Don’t get me wrong. I didn’t mind those “catching up on the old times,” I just wasn’t part of those old times and could not stay engaged. I had tried to stay on track for many of our earliest visits and was content to sit on the side like a bump on a log for a while. They had so much fun and all tried to draw me in. I never felt neglected, just out of place. That was fine. Since it was always an eight hour drive just to get to their place I was tired so in time they all accepted that it would be agreeable that I go to sleep and gets lots of rest and get out of their hair.

Merla was actually a very good farmers wife and Frank was a very hard worker. He had a few animals but mostly grew wheat. I always laughed thinking of city girl Merla taking care of the chicken, gathering their eggs and sloping pigs. Frank always took care of the few head of cattle they had.

Besides being a farmer, Frank worked at the nearby prison as a counselor. He carried both jobs for many years. That is until they moved to Oregon near where we lived. That story will come later.