Outside the box

Dad was one of the original “outside the box” thinkers, the best and most unconventional type. One of the ideas he considered was for our family to work with the harvest crews and pick cherries. He probably thought that between two adults and his growing family of six children, we could pick a lot of fruit and make pretty good money in the fields following the migrant, Mexican illegals through California, Oregon and Washington states. I was twelve years old at the time and mortified at the notion. Jesse, the baby was barely two. Thankfully the idea of being a migrant fruit picker never came to fruition.

For a time, Dad strongly considered the idea of living in a home with no electricity like some of his hippie friends. To him the back-to-basics approach made a lot of sense. Not using electricity would save money. To that end, he considered moving to an Amish community, where you had no bills to pay and could live free.

Mom lobbied hard against this grand idea as well. She said that while the values of the Amish were great, she didn’t want to wear black all the time, and would not go through life without wearing make-up or owning a mirror.

We were constantly looking for ways to earn money to make ends meet. For a time, we picked up the discarded aluminum cans from roads, collecting them in big, black garbage bags. You could easily spot the Hansen clan along Highway 12 in Idaho as well as the side roads and near landfills. Anywhere there were cans; we were picking them up and putting them in great, plastic bags.

Crushing them was the fun part. Collecting them in public was mortifying. I was incredibly concerned that my friends from school would see me and my life would be forever ruined. We lugged all of our bags of crushed cans and were rewarded with a mere pittance for all of the time and effort we put into the endeavor.

​Thankfully Dad decided it wasn’t worthwhile and I realized there was a God who loved me after all.