Susan Mustard Gilliland, Going Home Again

Susan Mustard Gilliland, 1960

Editor’s Note: Susan’s family moved during sophomore year, causing her to transfer from East High to Southeast. She keeps up with East High friends in Wichita and on this website.

In my early days at hospice, I learned the value of reminiscence. We all have stories that we tell again and again. As a hospice social worker, I learned to listen to stories of dying persons. Most often those stories were ones of childhood and teenage years – precious memories that help us make meaning of our lives. 

In February 2019, I wrote a letter to my childhood home on South Roosevelt in Wichita.  From Topeka I mailed a letter to that unknown person and explained that I’d lived in that house from birth to age 16. All my childhood memories were there – the cherry tree in the backyard, the crickets in the basement, the neighbors, walking to Sunnyside, playing croquet in the front yard, and drinking Kool-Aid under the shade tree. When we moved after one semester at East High, I’d never been back. Only then did I realize all that I had lost, the most important being my friends.

Within days, I received a two page typed letter from Alan. He and Vicki had lived there 45 years and reared 4 children in my childhood home. Alan and I were the same age. He had grown up one block East (Quentin) and attended Catholic schools. Our paths had never crossed. He said that the cherry tree was gone, but the crickets were still there. He told me about neighbors that we’d both known. He invited me to visit on my next trip to Wichita.

A couple of weeks later, Vicki welcomed my sister, Nancy, and me into her home. We spent time talking and talking! We walked into every room, recalling stories, reminiscing. In the kitchen we were shocked to see the original yellow Formica countertops from 1942. I had to see my basement bedroom, but the steep narrow staircase was not the way I remembered it. “My bedroom” was stacked wall to wall, floor to ceiling with Alan’s “treasures.”  I didn’t hear the crickets, but Vicki assured me they were still there. After two hours, we said our goodbyes and thanks for the memories. More puzzle pieces added to my life story. A few months later I moved back to Wichita!

Susan Mustard Gilliland (above right in 2017)

Southeast High, Class of 1960