Birth date: Nov 1, 1944 Death date: Sep 7, 2021
James “Jim” Truman Harrington, age 76 of Howard, left his earthly home on September 7, 2021 to be with his Lord and Savior. Jim was born November 1, 1944 to Joseph Truman and Dorothy (Sweet) Harrington in Winfield, Kansas. He was Read Obituary
Shooting hoops in our backyard. This is how I remember you. God bless you in this new adventure!
I have nothing but fond memories of my cousin Jim. Always laughing and joking you couldn't be sad or in a bad mood around Jim. RIP Jim. Your suffering is over.
My grandparents sold their house in Wichita, Kansas in about 1957 or 1958. It was about ten acres, a main house, and a small house that my mother and I lived in after I was born in 1945. They were looking for a home in the country that did not have the burden of the high the property taxes of Wichita. They find a home in Grenola, Kansas. It was one of the original homes of Grenola, after the railroad brought the two small settlements of Canola and Greenfield to join at the railroad track through the southern Flint Hills.
I came to live with my grandparents in about 1958. I was in the seventh grade. I sat in the backrow on the far-left side of the classroom. It was a mixed classroom, eight and seven grade, one teacher. I can’t remember her name. It was the old school building, brick two story. High school on the top floor, grade school on the main floor. The new school was just getting under construction. I felt lost.
Jim’s mother Dorothy was the janitor. Jim helped to clean the classrooms and wipe down the chock boards at the end of the school day. I do not remember how it first started, but I started to help Jim with his cleaning. Somewhere back in time we started to go fishing together after school. I had found a friend, I was saved.
We lived on the river, the Big Ganey, Jim and me. Fishing after school, running bank lines, camping out, so many memories, so much fun.
By the start of eight grade, we were in the new school building. Still a mixed class of seven and eight grade, but we were on top. Jess, Bob, Jim and Melba were my classmates. Water guns were our weapons. While the teacher was working with the seventh, we would be engaged in full combat. Until said teacher would come by and connect our guns without a drop in her presentation to the other class.
Jim knew everyone in the country, really, he did. When we were in high school sports and I would be sent in, I would ask him who I was supposed to be guarding. He would say some name, it would mean nothing to me. “What’s his number” I would yell. He would just say the name again. I would look for someone who looked like they needed to be guarded. He grow up with all these people, I was just lost.
“Umba”, well that’s how I spell it. Jim had a different spelling, can’t remember what it was. But it was our own little joke. During class one of us would start the game with a low voice “umba” the other would then counter with a “umba” just a bit louder. This when back and forth until we were called out by the teacher or one of us chickened out. Over the years this never stopped.
So many stories, so much fun.
Time passes, people grow, we all go our different ways. We got together when we could.
One occasion, Jim was able to come out to California and we went to Yosemite camping. Had a truly great time. When we got back to the city Jim started to tell me about the folks back in Elk County. Names of people I had no knowledge of. I listened quietly, but down deep inside I wanted to yell, “What’s his number”.
I miss Jim, he was and will always be, my best friend forever.
UMBA
Brownie (Dave Brown)
