Day Trip Number One

The girls counted down their last four hours of the school year on May 22. By May 23 I already began hearing, "There's nothing to do!" Those words ceased the minute I informed them that I could find something for them to do, like washing clothes, washing the car, washing the floors...lots and lots of washing. However, their heavy sighs and hunched shoulders whined more loudly than any mere word.

At ages twelve and eleven, Katie and Hailey are not only fun travel companions, they are also excellent Hannah helpers. I decided I would plan hopefully-weekly girls days out this summer, probably one of the last summers that my girls will consider a day out with mom fun.

Yesterday morning I loaded my Hoveround while Katie and Hailey packed lunch boxes of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, cheese and crackers, fruits and veggies and drinks as well as a sack of extra clothes for Hannah Savannah and drove the ol' Tahoe to Coffeyville, Kansas. I began our outing with a hasty prayer along the lines of, "God, help us have a fun and successful day. And especially help us to be patient when things go wrong, because something surely will. Amen." Norman Vincent Peale (whose name is hyperlinked there, dang this dark background!) probably would not have approved, but if you've trekked anywhere with kids, you know my prayer was pertinent.

Our first stop was The Dalton Museum, home of all things Dalton Gang related.






In 1892 five men attempted to rob two banks in Coffeyville. Four of them were killed by Coffeyville citizens and the fifth was reformed after doing a stint at Lansing. We had already toured the museum once, a few years ago, and found it to be somewhat boring, so I promised the girls we would make this stop a short one. However, this year we all enjoyed it, thanks largely to John and Wendy, the husband and wife team who were manning the museum that day. They gave Katie and Hailey a scavenger hunt list of twenty items as well as plenty of hints when the girls became discouraged. John even offered to keep an eye on Hannah so I could help, which took constant concentration since many items, including but definitely not limited to an old cash register (so many buttons to push) and an antique metal bathtub (just her size), were kept on the floor. Here she is standing beside an antique bottle capper.

This mural remains the most memorable element of the museum, a movie-screen sized portrait of the four dead Dalton Gang members. The sign below it reads "CRIME DOES NOT PAY." Many fliers of that picture and caption were distributed in the late 1890s in an effort to deter criminal activity. What do you suppose would happen if we did the same today? Or if we laid out a row of overdosed drug addicts with the caption "DRUGS KILL."





On the television to Katie's right we could have watched an excellent documentary produced by The History Channel, but I'd seen it before and knew Hannah would never sit through it.

We just had to do the tourist-y pose:

The girls correctly answered all of the questions on the scavenger hunt, which merited them a couple of mock newspapers about the infamous day. After saying our goodbyes we headed towards the bank the Dalton Gang held up, which has been preserved. First I wanted to stop at the Tahoe for a drink, so I asked Hailey for the keys. I had handed them to her because her shorts had pockets. She looked in the back pocket of my Hoveround where she had put them without my knowledge, but they weren't there.

"I saw Hannah with them," Katie informed us. "In the museum."

I wanted to sarcastically ask, "And you didn't take them from her?" but I held my tongue. Maybe that prayer had some efficacy.

We returned inside and sure enough, they were on top of the old-timey cash register. Whew!

On our way to the bank we spied this fountain, a kid magnet if I ever saw one.

We entered the bank through the adjacent Chamber of Commerce, where we also took Hannah for a bathroom break. While I helped Hannah, Katie and Hailey held my keys and checkbook. I've GOT to buy a purse.

Inside the bank:

Inside the vault inside the bank:

We left the bank in time to arrive at the Brown Mansion, (again, there's a hyperlink) with about fifteen minutes to spare before the next tour, just enough time to eat a few bites at the picnic table under a shade tree on the grounds.


Katie and Hailey leisurely unloaded the lunches while I grabbed my checkbook, which contained the tickets I had purchased at the Dalton Museum. Except I couldn't find it. My checkbook that is. Everyone frantically reloaded the Tahoe and we tore out for the bank, hoping the checkbook would still be there.

Sure enough it was, but now we had an hour to kill until the next tour began at the mansion. I called my new friend, John, to determine where to find a park for playing and picnicking. On his recommendation we drove to Pfister Park, an excellent recommendation indeed.

As we packed into the Tahoe yet again, Hannah had her one and only meltdown of the day. Not too bad.

I could go on and on about the Brown Mansion. I've toured it at least four times, but this was the most enjoyable. The tour guide allowed Hailey into this chained-off room to play the piano. She also took us out onto the...what's it called...veranda? Terrace? I'll say "veranda." It's the upper porch/deck in the picture above. What a view!

Hannah snapped the picture below.

Hannah also took this picture. She and I sat on the main floor while the tour guide took Katie and Hailey through the basement. I didn't feel like taking that many stairs.

As I worked with this picture, I noticed the sign. Oh well.

This was our final stop. I HAD to buy a purse.