#49 Kenny and his Junkyard

​Curious Encounter in 1977

Kenny was 52 years old when we met in 1977.  I was exploring an area in the Missouri Ozarks with some college classmates when we came upon what appeared to be a dump in the middle of the woods.

I can't recall when we first laid eyes on this jovial hermit, but I still have some notes and photos that bring back this interesting character.

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​Kenny's Yard

Luckily Kenny wasn't bothered that we'd come upon his secret world.  He shared a toothless grin and offered to show us his home.  First he took us to his main home, a converted school bus.  We walked past an old round washing machine and onto a sagging roofless porch and climbed the stairs into his home.

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​Inside

We stepped inside a cluttered, filthy space with a sagging mattress in the corner and kitchen counters built beside the windows.  It was hard to imagine children sitting in this bus once. Kenny opened up a tiny refrigerator (I don't recall how this bus was powered) and offered us some of his brew that filled a large, chipped crock.  Kenny used a mug to scoop out a sample of the beverage made from brown sugar, yeast and rice.  I declined politely. I have a feeling this brew was the key to Kenny's good spirits.

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The Saddest Part
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Kenny didn't act like someone who wanted to be pitied.  In his somewhat tipsy state, he seemed pretty proud to be tour guide.  When I asked how long he'd lived there, he pointed to a tree through the window.   "I ate a pear once and now there's a tree."  I'm not sure I believed that, but I did believe that at one point Kenny had made this bus his "home".  There were signs of attempts long ago to decorate. There were curtains on a back window and photos tucked above the side windows.  There was one photo of a young Kenny with what I presume was a wife and children.  I was haunted by that photo for a very long time.  He had been a surprisingly good looking man, with a family.

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Kenny's Trailer
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Next door to the bus was a trailer.  I don't remember if we even went inside, but I remember we said good-bye at the door.

Promise
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We promised Kenny we would come back and visit.

Winter
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We did return the next winter when there was snow on the ground.  Kenny didn't offer us any brew and I remember he seemed sober.  Maybe it was just the fact that he had on more clothes, but I like to think he was healthier.

Thanks, Kenny. 
You didn't run us off with a shot gun or hide inside to keep us wondering.  You shared a little of yourself and we respected you for that.  Maybe you really were content living that life, but I selfishly hope your life got a little better. 

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