My husband read the newspaper article about the new stage production of The Grapes of Wrath. It brought him back to the year 1926 when the Kunkel family made the move from South Dakota to the Yakima Valley in Eastern Washington. Times were hard on the farm since Norman's father was a hired hand who found it difficult to manage with eight children to care for. Norman's oldest brother had already left home to find his fortune in Yakima and it was this brother who urged the family to buy a truck and make the trip also.

The Joad family of The Grapes of Wrath expected to go west to the land of milk and honey. The Kunkels were no different as they had heard about the wonderful fruit crops out west and expected more opportunity if they could just manage to get there. Little did they know that those who owned the land of milk and honey were not about to share much of their harvest with the likes of the poor Kunkel family. Nevertheless, they had hope and determination.

The old Ford flatbed truck they bought was fitted out with a canopy, much like the covered wagons of old. Norman's oldest sister's husband could drive so he was the pilot while Norman's mother and father, his oldest sister Fran, her baby, and five other siblings set out with all the belongings they could pack into the truck. You can imagine the bedding that was needed for sleeping out on the way and the potatoes, flour and salt pork that supplied the basic diet for the several-week trip. Norman's mother couldn't leave behind her set of encyclopedias or her sewing machine, which took up valuable space on the old truck bed. No matter, they were eventually traded for vegetables, eggs, butter and milk, as they desperately needed fresh produce.

Every night Fran, her husband and baby slept under the truck and Norman's Mom and Dad slept on the flatbed while the kids ran about looking for a level spot to put down their blankets. Luckily it was summer weather but after the sun went down it got colder. Norman said that he would lie outdoors looking up at the stars to lull himself to sleep.

During the day they would stop to rest or have a forced stop when a tire blew out. Once the kids found some wild berries that Mom Kunkel cooked up into a sauce. That must have tasted like ambrosia compared to the perennial potatoes three times a day. Day by day, they repeated the ritual of making a fire, shoring it up with rocks, cooking an evening meal and keeping the fire going so they could keep warm after the sun went down. Many a night the kids would sit around the campfire and their older sisters would tell stories about the old days.

Big sister Fran told a story about living in Missouri. She was always asked to go fetch Grandma, who was a midwife, when her mother's labor pains were coming on frequently. Fran didn't know where babies came from and so she thought, "If I don't go and get Grandma, there won't be another baby to clean up after." But she didn't dare disobey her mother.

Every morning the family would pick up their bedding and store it once more, getting ready for the journey ahead. Norman, who took a great interest in geography, asked about the signs as they approached the Continental Divide. Fran knew that it meant the line dividing all the rivers that run east on one side and west on the other. Norman was excited at seeing the real mountains and canyons, which he had only seen in his older sister's geography book before they came west.

After weeks on the road, the wonderful Yakima valley came into view. Yes, the Kunkel family was facing a life of displacement such as those people who were displaced by the dust storms in the Midwest, by the war in Iraq and Afghanistan and by the recent hurricanes. It is a testimony to the human spirit that the Kunkel family all survived and made their mark in the world. My husband certainly has empathy with any family anywhere in the world that is now facing hardship because he once lived it himself..

Georgie Bright Kunkel writes regularly for these newspapers and can be reached at wseditor@robinsonnews.com