The Tall Tower

In 1961, I remember coming to Kansas

City with my father after his divorce

from my mother. I was fourteen years

old, and was away from home now

seeing a new part of the world for

the very first time. From a hilltop

above the city at a distance, I could

see the skyline of downtown miles

away. And there was a tall tower, a

self-supporting city landmark dad

told me, that is lighted up from top

to bottom every night. I could hardly

wait until sunset. I missed my home

town of St. Louis; I missed my mother

and brothers too, but was glad to be

with my dad. I figured he needed me

to keep him company. Dad had

been with me the entire fourteen

years of my life. And as far as I

could see, he would be with me

forever, sort of like that tall tower

had been part of Kansas City forever,

like my mother, brothers and home-

town had been part of me forever,

like every place had been part of

the whole world forever, like the

sun, moon and stars had been in

the sky forever. I missed my mom,

and was sad about that, but then

I was glad to be with my dad, and

I could barely wait to see that tall

tower in the distance all lighted up

at night. I was a teenager back then.

In my youthful imagining with the

whole world in front of me, I could

see myself growing up, and becoming

old enough to live forever. At seventy

two years now, having been to places

where I have been, having seen what

I have seen and done what I have done,

seems as if I damn near already have.

Chris Hanch 12-16-19