Currently, I am transposing the writing on my Grandmother Florence Hill. She is the grandmother who traveled from Springfield to Guffey to escape the Dust Bowl. As I read her words, I recognize her deep desire to share this unusual part of her story. Her words provide personal insight into the detailed preparation, careful consideration and courage that this journey took. I sense her hope, the risks they were taking, and even the loss of their leaving. Here is an excerpt from her story:
We looked back on the land, once covered by beautiful fields of golden wheat. They were gone and only a vast wasteland lay to the mercy of the winds. Always shifting to and fro as though playing hide and seek. Always searching for a place to hide and rest as it raced back and forth across the prairies, a farmhouse, shed, barn, or just a weed or tree. They were being covered as the dust piled high near them. The garden, the important part of the farm was hidden under the dust. The tractors and machinery also seemed as useless now as they lay half exposed. Dry weather had started this disaster, and farmers had not farmed properly. In my final installation piece, I will use some of her words. Either through recordings that I have of her speaking about it, or through the stories she wrote. They are a true treasure of my family's heritage and our shared connection to the land.
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Melody EppersonA profoundly curious artist exploring what it means to be human through art and life. Archives
January 2025
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