Oklahoma that calls me out. I don't know what it is, exactly. But whenever I cross the Red River
into Oklahoma, I end up breathing a little easier and feeling a little freer.
In my life I only spent one year in Oklahoma - in Durant, to be exact. After my husband and I got
married, we lived in tiny garage apartment along with big bugs and a broken fridge, eating Taco
Casa tacos night after night. I worked at the Sonic as a carhop and some-time fry cook. I also
went to Southeastern Oklahoma State University, where I developed a lifelong taste for
learning and exploring - a pursuit that eluded me in high school. Oh yeah, and it was in Durant
when I learned how to drive and bought my first set of wheels (a 1978 Ford LTD we named
"Lulu"). So maybe that's why I love Oklahoma - it's a memory bank of firsts for me.
But its history and geography fascinate me as well. Oklahoma is a crossroads of all sorts of
cultures and the resulting culture clashes. European, African, and Native Americans all share
strong histories throughout the state. Some of American history's biggest tragedies have
played themselves out on Oklahoma soil, too, such as the Trail of Tears, Dust Bowl, and the
Oklahoma City bombing. However, most of what makes America America has roots in
Oklahoma as well, like the cattle trails, the buffalo hunts, Route 66, Will Rogers, and the Joads.
Oklahoma sits smack-dab in the middle of Tornado Alley, and has the scars to prove it. Its
cities and towns can make one nostalgic, as the pace and look reflect those by-gone days
(providing there's no Super Wal-Mart in the area). And the landscape, with rusty red earth
jutting out from beneath rocky hills and sweeping prairies, paints an amazing picture.
I live an hour's drive south of the Oklahoma border. Driving to cross the river is not that difficult,
and I do so at least twice a month. Sometimes, however, just visiting doesn't do it for me, and I
have to camp out a while. When I do, I make sure to take my camera along so that I can share
the beauty that I discover with you. Maybe you will see what I see in the photos I've posted here.
In any case, enjoy the pictures, as they are my own little ode to Oklahoma.
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Joads came from. By
Dorothy Lange,
WPA photo, Library
of Congress
near Guymon, Oklahoma. By Dorothea
Lane, Library of Congress.
