Sammie Meadows

You Can Never Go Home Again

I found out what “you can never go home again” means when I arrived at the farm site of our childhood. The barn, looming large, the only building standing, jutted up from the bare Minnesota prairie as I went up the driveway past the grove. The tall trees and pig houses on the east side of the driveway were gone. So was the garage, the old machine shed, the shop, horse barn and chicken house. The pump house right by the barn was barely there, but some repair on the roof and door might bring it back to life.