#1 Freeman Hughes- Farmer in Eminence, Missouri

​Stranger, Then Friend

Freeman is on the top of my list of strangers, even though he wasn't  a stranger for long.

This list is really about people I have met and never seen again. But I have to make an exception, here.  

My encounter with Freeman in 1977 is an example of how you can strike up a conversation with someone you don't know and it can turn into a friendship...even when that someone is 4 times as old as you!

​Freeman at Home
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I met Freeman when I was with fellow college students, in a small-town cafe in the Missouri Ozarks.  We struck up a conversation and he bragged about his cattle. Next thing you know, I was milking one of his cows. (An accomplishment that had been on my bucket list!)

After that initial visit to Freeman's farm I visited him many times. He always whipped up noon "dinner" on his 585-pound wood burning stove.  Spinach, okra and poke greens from his garden...biscuits with homemade jellies and freshly churned butter...and cow's milk!

Acting His Age?

​Freeman was 79 and I was 19, when we met.  I wasn't used to having much in common with someone of another generation.  But I observed and I was in awe of what a man his age could accomplish. What was even more surprising to me, was how Freeman spoke, when he got past his funny stories and began to reflect on the past. 

I felt like I was talking to a peer.  He talked about the strength of his wife who had died years before. He spoke about the ability of women to change the world. He pondered about religion and how people abused it.  It was honestly the first time I respected an older person as a human being, not just as an elder. 

​Growing Older

Freeman and I wrote letters until he died, in his 90's.  We wrote letters to each other, but sometimes Freeman mailed surprises.  Sometimes he wrapped up okra or berries form his garden. Once he sent homemade butter, wrapped up in newspaper. 

When I married, he sent a wedding gift.  It was a quilt, created by women of his town, made from the printed material from flour sacks. 

Years later, I returned one last time to Eminence with my two year old daughter, Heidi. Freeman was moving a little slower and he had replaced his straw hat with a trucker's hat.  He drove us out in his truck to see his cattle, but he didn't bother to get out this time. He just hollered from his window, "HOOOOWEEE!" 

​Remembering Freeman

I think about Freeman so often, especially when I see cows.  

I can almost hear that high pitched old voice, hollering out to his cattle!   

​Thanks Freeman!
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You weren't a stranger for long.  You changed my view of "older people."   I will add a new "Stranger Memory" to my list each week, but none will be quite like you.  Like the others, though...I will sadly never see you again.
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