Morning Thoughts

On Climbing Mt. McKinley

October 14, 2024

On Climbing Mt. McKinley

from the Second Verse Collection (Barbara McKinley)

The tape I made,

my inner voice,

became my companion.

. . . An important part of my continuing.

Put your foot here . . . keep yourself moving . . .

Don’t sit down . . . Keep yourself going . . .

Step by step,

I take the mountain.

I relax.

I make myself ready.

Always alert.

I watch. I wait.

I know when the storm will blow

and work as a team,

with my voice,

toward the goal.

When I reach the summit,

once on the summit,

I feel—not joy.

Not a jumping-up-and-down-feeling,

but a quiet peace and calm.

A place of no color.

No wind. Air.Blankk and silent.

On returning, once more

To the green and color.

Extremely felt and

observed.

Air pushes against my movements.

I resist. I move through air as a

vessel moves in water.

And I hear sounds

other than the voice

in my head and

the wind.

In the end, the feat wasn’t

technically so challenging

or difficult,

as a matter of willpower.

And on returning, I work to keep

the summit ever ahead.

Never finished.

. . . keeping the silence within

while moving midst

color, pressure, and sound.

I wrote this poem from listening to a climber describe how he managed to complete his goal of climbing Mt. McKinley. I listened intently since I had been aware of my name, McKinley, all of my life and felt it had significance. Interestingly, not long after hearing the interview of this mountaineer, the mountain in Alaska was officially renamed by the federal government as Denali, meaning the “high one,” named long ago by the Koyukon, the people of Alaska who settled in the interior area north of the mountain.

Our goals may change or take on different names, but the drive remains

el día de los muertos en México. The Day of the Dead

October 13, 2024

el día de los muertos en México. The Day of the Dead

In Texas, where I’ve been living, we observe el día de los muertos, or the Day of the Dead, at the same time as Halloween or the day following, November 1.

I learned much more about this celebration when I taught at a high school for adolescent immigrants from Mexico. In my advisory class, we wrote a short skit and performed it for another class. All of the students were from Mexico except for one. Luyen was Vietnamese. She was put off by the play in a local cemetery. A colleague brought over some slides of family altars his aunt had prepared. I learned this was a day to celebrate those who had passed recently or years ago. The altar included food, clothes, music, or other items the relatives enjoyed. A can of Coca-Cola. Flowers. An album of a favorite musician.

The students were learning to put ideas together in English. Inspired, one student stood up enthusiastically, “It’s about life. It’s about death in life.” That was what the skeleton and costumes that showed skeleton frames meant. The butterfly, or mariposa, symbolizes a rebirth or transformation in life. In performing this play, we were all transformed. Luyen understood about the alter because they had an alter in her home when her grandfather passed away. Friends would bring flowers, food, or other items for the family.

They all decided they would like to see butterflies in the cemetery during the play to convey the idea of rebirth. The Mexican students and Luyen came closer that day. I learned more about my colleague. And the students felt confirmed by sharing this part of their culture deeply – and not just with “food” and “fun.”

Luyen means “to love, especially the love of one’s country.” We felt love that day. The students experienced a rebirth in their new country. We honored the cultures and countries of the students in our class that day. This alter, in the picture, is a memory of that day—and that play.

el día de los muertos en México.

1926 Ingleside Seed Farm Catalog Cover

August 11, 2024

The Ingleside Seed Farm was founded in the early 1900s by John Willis McKinley and his wife, Virga Mae Pridy.

They both began as schoolteacher and then, as the farm developed, they improved seeds that would grow well in the dry Kansas climate with the help of a primitive irrigation system and a greenhouse.

They built a garage for the seed business, complete with scales where bulk seeds were measured out on the spot for buyers. The trees on the farm were planted by the McKinleys and the Works Progress Administration (WPA) in the 1930s to keep the winds from blowing dirt. Seven rows of trees were planted to surround the farm—one row of Russian Olives, one of Long-needle pines, two rows of locusts, two rows of cottonwood, and one of a flowering shrub.

This is the sign still on the side of the old garage used for storing, weighing, and storing seeds.

Ingleside Seed Farm

July 16, 2024

The picture above is a colorized photo my grandfather created in the darkroom on their farm, the Ingleside Seed Farm. The farm represents my grandfather’s blending of science and art. And my grandmother was with him every step of the way.

Ingleside represents a place residing in the heart. It is an interior landscape. A place we all crave. It is built on happy childhood memories. On the dreams of ancestors. From their ancient voices, we hear how to slow our lives down. We feel Ingleside in our quiet moments and thoughts. In our recollection of family. When we experience joy.

Education can also spark a journey to this place, making life meaningful. The McKinleys began a seed farm that flourished during the Dust Bowl and Depression by adapting seeds for the dry, dry climate. They grew everything under the sun in their outdoor laboratory. They built this seed farm on 120 acres with love, artistry, grit, and know-how.

My grandparents were both educators, and they educated a generation of children using the farm and everyday experiences. Their story and legacy will continue to grow in new and heartwarming directions.