When my oldest son returned home after spending the last three years in Ireland, he not only brought the lifetime experience of studying in a foreign land – he brought back a wife as well. He and Agne were both working on doctoral degrees in the same department, started dating, fell in love and got married last month. My wife and I are both thrilled since she is a lovely young lady and has become the daughter we never had.
Agne, I think, was a little apprehensive about living in a rural area since she had never lived outside the city in her life. She was born and raised in a city in Lithuania before moving to a city in Ireland to conclude her studies, and since all the teaching jobs for which Seth has applied don’t start until August, they have temporarily set up housekeeping in one of our farmhouses about a mile away.
Seth had to do a ‘sales job’ in assuring her that our little farm community is the safest place in America and stated, “Nothing ever happens out here in the sticks, so there is no need to fear anything.” I’m not sure she believed him completely, but she agreed.
While Seth is working at a non-teaching job for right now, my wife has taken it upon herself to make sure that Agne doesn’t get bored staying out here in the country. Judy has been teaching our new daughter-in-law how to drive a car (that, in itself, should lead to an interesting article in a few weeks) and meets the young lady for a walk most every afternoon. Agne was, at first, reluctant to walk along the lonely country roads that crisscross our little corner of the earth. “Aren’t you afraid we will be robbed or assaulted?” she asked my wife before their first adventure.
“Don’t be silly,” Judy replied, “this is the country. Nothing ever happens out here.”
Agne even asked me to hang some new window blinds in the old farmhouse because she would, “Just feel safer knowing someone wouldn’t be able to peep in.”
I agreed to add the amenities to the windows while still trying to reassure her that, “Nothing ever happens out here in this rural setting.” She still wanted the blinds hung.
On only their third afternoon walk, both Judy and Agne were scared half out of their wits when a shiny, new truck came barreling by them, on the one-lane county road, at 70-80 MPH with three police cruisers right behind them; sirens blaring. We heard on the news that night that it had crashed about two miles southwest of our home and the driver had escaped on foot. Officials were warning the locals to lock up their homes and vehicles until he could be found. Seth and Agne complied with the request, as did most everyone around here.
The next morning, as I headed out to feed and check cattle, I noticed the overhead door in the building next to Seth and Agne’s house was halfway open. Thinking that was odd, I proceeded to turn around and go investigate. Peering inside, I could see that the bicycle that Judy had loaned Agne, was gone. I called the Sheriff’s office to report a theft and they told me they had just found a bicycle on the side of the road about a mile away and the escapee had been captured another mile away from the bike. He had used it as a getaway vehicle.
Checking in on Agne after the Sheriff returned the bike; I asked her if she was okay after all the excitement. “Yes,” she responded, “but I think I need to do more study on the English language.”
“What do you mean?” I asked, “You speak English better than I do.”
Smiling, she answered, “Evidently, I don’t know the exact meaning of the phrase, ‘nothing ever happens out here.’”
Jerry Crownover is a farmer and former professor of Agriculture Education at Missouri State University. He is a native of Baxter County, Arkansas, and an author and professional speaker. To contact Jerry about his books, or to arrange speaking engagements, you may contact him by calling 1-866-532-1960 or visiting ozarksfn.com and clicking on ‘Contact Us.’
