A Million Little Pieces Of My Mind

Easter morning of 1982 found us in Rhoades Park in Blair, Nebraska, baskets in hand and excitement running high. Dottie, Karen, Jenny, and John darted across the grass in search of brightly colored eggs, their laughter carrying through the crisp spring air. What began as a simple family outing quickly became a treasured memory, captured in 24 photographs that freeze-frame the joy, the scramble, and the small triumphs of childhood discovery. Looking back now, those images tell a story not just of hand-decorated eggs, but of a moment in time when the world felt wide open and every find was a victory.

We had decorated the eggs the night before, as was our custom.

We weren't really churchgoers but in 1982 it was expected that parents would buy their kids their "fancy" outfits for Easter; the outfits would then be worn at special occasions throughout the year, until the next Easter. And church folk would, of course, wear the outfits to Easter services. I decided to, instead, make it a family photo day.

The playground itself reflects the mid?20th?century style of small-town parks: a modest set of swings, slides, and climbing frames designed for neighborhood children rather than large crowds. By the early 1980s, the equipment had already become weathered from years of use, its painted metal surfaces showing the patina of countless summers. It wasn't a sprawling installation, but rather a simple, sturdy play area that gave kids a place to burn off energy before or after family gatherings. In that sense, the playground was less about novelty and more about continuity: a reliable backdrop to community traditions, standing in a park whose roots stretched back to the 1920s.

But it gave the kids more "enrichment", as we say in the 21st century, as we had a couple hours giving the kids the run of the place while I clutched my camera and snapped away.

We didn't know it at the time, but this would be our last Easter in Nebraska.