#130 Walter Chrysler

By the time I became conscious of my dependents on her, My mother's large dark eyes were set in a big powerful woman of the frontier. I was the third of four children she bore in Kansas railroad towns in the eighteen seventies, before the prairies had been tamed. She ate buffalo meat to nourish her sons. Sometimes now I see her eyes looking at me.

Miraculously. out of the face of one of my grandchildren. Sometimes in a mirror. I catch a fleeting trace of her. In my own eyes.

At such times I hope afresh that they were right. Those neighbors. Who would cast a nod at me and say Walt takes after his ma. Work?

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