She had kinda agreed to marry me and I thought I should do it right so I brought my mother over to her place and asked her mother if it was OK if we got married, Florence and me of course. She was a little reluctant I could tell, that's the reason I had my mother with me. I knew she couldn't kill me with a witness. She said it’s up to her dad, and he is out in the pasture watering. I dutifully went out to the pasture and asked him the same question and he asks, do you love her and want to give her a good life? Never having looked beyond tomorrow, I said yes sir, he said OK she is yours.
She was a minor and had to have as affidavit of some kind to get married. It had to be signed in front of a notary by the parents. Her mother signed, but she looked like she was seeing the printing on the form reading"I agree to let this old lecher to marry my sweet innocent baby." That hurdle was passed, now the date and the preacher. Every thing is all set, and I relaxed as much as possible thinking about the repercussions of all this. The morning of the wedding day we got a phone call from her or her mother (I don't know which) wanting to postpone everything for some reason I didn't understand known only to females. Martha took the phone call and tried to explain it all to me. I didn't want to understand, and this day was planned. At least part of it and I said no to postponement.
We went to the preacher's place, he was a farmer and had just come in from milking and had to clean up a little. When he was ready, he still smelled a little like cows but that was OK were ready. He got out the big book and took both our hands in his and began, "we are gathered here" the ones who were gathered were Martha, Florence's sister, Flo's mother, and mine. The preacher had palsy or something that gave him a firm uncontrollable shaking of his hands and lower arms. So as he held both our hands in his the shaking continued on into us. I wanted to do something to ease the situation so I decided to try to steady the shaking and make as unnoticeable as possible. He was a fair sized man and farmer strong so he out stronged me. We were all shaking a little, I was braced against a wooden chair and the chair was moving just enough to make little squeaking noises on the floor, I had better hearing then, it seemed overwhelmingly loud,
I stopped trying to stop the shaking and just go along with it. My hair fell down over my eyes, I looked sneakily around and her sister was trying to not bust out laughing and so was Martha. The mothers looked like, “just get this over with" I had heard nothing between"we are gathered here and you can kiss the bride. I read later about all this stuff I must have nodded my head to.
Seems so vivid now, hard to believe it was over 65 years ago
Thursday, October 14, 2010
Thursday, July 30, 2009
Lemon Maybe? 7-09 -Karl
hi guys
The experience of yours and the Audi reminds me of the first station wagon we had. We had just sold our house in Nampa and I was working on TVs. We bought a Chevy in Portland at Honest John's and it seemed like a good car, the only wear was the driver's seat.
We had used it about a week and had a flat tire. We took the tire in to have it fixed and the tire man said the tire had been re-grooved through three belts, so we checked the others and found the same thing. new set of tires. Felt so good we decided to go to Nampa for the weekend.
Needed a tune up first, so we took it in and they worked on it and said it still had a little miss but OK. in La Grande it developed a severe knock so we went to a mechanic and he said it was quitting and couldn't work on it. Just go on and drive a little slower. He said we had a valve that was sticking. the next day in Nampa we took it to the Chevy garage and they thought the same thing. We needed a valve job. When they broke it down they discovered a broken valve an a chipped piston. we drove back to Kalama and we still had a little miss.
A few days later I was driving home from Longview and heard a clunk and the motor died. It was after dark so with flashlight in hand I checked the motor for what I thought would be a broken fan belt. The fan belt was OK but as I ran the light back over the motor I could see two pistons looking like they were ashamed to be seem all undressed like that. I walked down to the Kalama River Trailer Park and had a heck of a time convincing Billy what had happened. He couldn't believe a Chevy would do that. he finally called Harry Becker and he came out and pulled me home. That was on Tuesday and on Thursday we had a complete motor put in and Friday we drove it down to Woodland and traded for a Ford. a really trouble free car. A lot of TV earning down the drain.
Now the rest of the story. About six months later we were at the dealership where we traded in the Chevy and the manager came over and asked what was wrong with that station wagon. I had showed him the papers on the new motor when we traded. He said they sold the Chevy and had to replace valves and pistons twice and the car didn't sit straight and they even bent the frame and couldn't fix it. They ended up taking the Chevy back and took it took it to a junkyard and disposed of it.
lemon maybe?
Dad
The experience of yours and the Audi reminds me of the first station wagon we had. We had just sold our house in Nampa and I was working on TVs. We bought a Chevy in Portland at Honest John's and it seemed like a good car, the only wear was the driver's seat.
We had used it about a week and had a flat tire. We took the tire in to have it fixed and the tire man said the tire had been re-grooved through three belts, so we checked the others and found the same thing. new set of tires. Felt so good we decided to go to Nampa for the weekend.
Needed a tune up first, so we took it in and they worked on it and said it still had a little miss but OK. in La Grande it developed a severe knock so we went to a mechanic and he said it was quitting and couldn't work on it. Just go on and drive a little slower. He said we had a valve that was sticking. the next day in Nampa we took it to the Chevy garage and they thought the same thing. We needed a valve job. When they broke it down they discovered a broken valve an a chipped piston. we drove back to Kalama and we still had a little miss.
A few days later I was driving home from Longview and heard a clunk and the motor died. It was after dark so with flashlight in hand I checked the motor for what I thought would be a broken fan belt. The fan belt was OK but as I ran the light back over the motor I could see two pistons looking like they were ashamed to be seem all undressed like that. I walked down to the Kalama River Trailer Park and had a heck of a time convincing Billy what had happened. He couldn't believe a Chevy would do that. he finally called Harry Becker and he came out and pulled me home. That was on Tuesday and on Thursday we had a complete motor put in and Friday we drove it down to Woodland and traded for a Ford. a really trouble free car. A lot of TV earning down the drain.
Now the rest of the story. About six months later we were at the dealership where we traded in the Chevy and the manager came over and asked what was wrong with that station wagon. I had showed him the papers on the new motor when we traded. He said they sold the Chevy and had to replace valves and pistons twice and the car didn't sit straight and they even bent the frame and couldn't fix it. They ended up taking the Chevy back and took it took it to a junkyard and disposed of it.
lemon maybe?
Dad
Tuesday, July 15, 2008
Wednesday, July 9, 2008
More Memories Jogged
Susie's post brought back many more memories of spending the night at Grandma and Grandpa's. I don't think I ever knew the address of the first house they lived in. They always had a post office box for a mailing address. (PO Box 222, Kalama, WA.) When I was last in Kalama, I drove by the little house on the hill. It does look very little. I wanted to see how it had changed. It looks run down now and that made me sad. The front door no longer opens out on the street. It was right on the sidewalk, as I remember it. The sidewalk was just gravel and a little lower than the street. Across the street was an under ground garage, the side yard had a Bing cherry tree with grass planted around the bottom of it. In the back there was an old garage. Seems like we used to play in the garage. There was a bed in the corner. Maybe that was a spare room in the summer for one of the kids. The house had to be a little crowded inside, but there was always room for everyone. Susie talked about sleeping with Charlene. I think Aunt Mary Beryl, and Aunt Jacquie also shared that room. I remember an old metal bed and there was gum stuck to the bed post. Reminds me of the song "Does Your Chewing Gum Loose It's Flavor on the Bed Post Overnight". I swear, that song was written about the Jansen home of the l940's! By the looks of the size of that house now, there probably was not much room for many beds in that bedroom. The bedroom on the other side of the hall was even smaller. It was the width of a bed and there was a bed at each end for Uncle Bobby and Uncle Pete. Their door was right at the head of the stairs with just a small landing. There was about a 1 foot ledge alongside the steps up there. What that was for, I don't know. They sure could have used that extra foot inside their bedroom. I don't remember any closets up there, but there must have been one somewhere. There were only those 2 rooms upstairs. Not much room for those sleepwalkers and talkers. Several of us do or did that, you know!
Downstairs there was a living room on the left as you walked into the house off the sidewalk and the dining room to the right. From the living room you walked into grandma and grandpa's bedroom after passing the big stuffed deer head above the heating stove. The living room had one light bulb in the middle of the room that hung down on its cord. Not too fancy of a light fixture and it did not really give off much light either. After great grandpa Jansen passed away grandma and grandpa bought a TV set that set near the deer head. Before he passed away great grandpa sat there with his cane that he would hook around our ankles as we passed by to tease us. On the wall was an oval picture frame with a picture of grandpa's mother and father. Aunt Martha has the frame now with the 1968 pictures that were taken for grandma and grandpa's 50Th wedding anniversary.
To get to the kitchen, you could either go through the dining room pass the stairs and through the door or you could go in from Grandma and Grandpa's bedroom. I remember the kitchen had metal cabinets. I would help grandma dry the dishes. She always told me that a good dish dryer would get what the dishwasher missed, so the dishes looked clean when they went into the cupboard. In the corner of the kitchen, by the dining room door was an old wall hung wooden phone with the mouthpiece on the phone box, or whatever they call it, and the ear piece was on a cord that you held up to your ear. There was a crank on the side that you would crank to ring the operator so you could make your call. I remember my dad calling Aunt Shirley one day and telling her that she should put a paper bag over her phone because he was from the phone company and they were going to blow out the lines and might get dust all over her house. She knew the call came from grandma's house and realized it was a prank call from my dad when he hung up the phone, because that phone would make a dinging sound on the other end of the line when it was hung up. I think Uncle Kenny made a lamp out of that old phone. I wonder if he still has it!
I don't know how much space the kitchen had because it had a door on all 4 walls. One from the bedroom, the dining room, the porch and the utility porch where there was a bathroom and a pantry. The porch off the kitchen was a square area. May have been a patio, but could have best been used as a room if it were added into the house. We used to sleep out on that porch or on the grass. I remember one night Charlene and I were sleeping outside watching the falling stars while in sleeping bags. We had the old black dog, I think her name was Lady. She crawled to the bottom of Charlene's sleeping bag and threw up. Seems like that ended our sleep out for that night. Charlene had a cat named Mouser too, but don't know if Mouser lived in that house or in the house higher on the hill.
I think the utility porch was an add on to the house when they put plumbing into the house. It had the bathroom on one end. I may have described the bathroom in one of the other posts, but will do it again because this bathroom was unique. The toilet sat up on a platform and so you had to step up to it to sit on the "throne". The water tank was hung high on the wall with a long pull chain that you pulled to flush the toilet. Interesting. I have only seen one other toilet like that since in an old hotel in Portland, Oregon. The bath tub was footed. (Sat up on feet) The room was not heated except with a space heater, so was a mighty cold room in the winter. As I remember, it was only heated if you took a bath, not if you were just going in there to do your bathroom business. Those were the only things in the bathroom. No sink, just a tub. The door locked with a square iron box with a lever that you pushed on the top of the box. That house must have been built a long long time ago.
I also remember the firetruck coming around on Christmas Eve. Santa rode the firetruck and I was as impressed with him as much as Susie was. He could remember our names. Imagine, Santa remembering all us kids names, boy were we special. Never mind the presents, Santa knew each and everyone of our names!
We were special, we lived in a family that got together allot. Grandma and grandpa's house was where the action was. From the looks of the size of that house today, it must have been busting at the seams. Grandma was happiest when she had her family all together. The bigger it got the better. I don't know about anyone else, but I felt a lot of love during those times. Still go to Kalama for hugs, 'cuz I know that is where I can get them. I still feel special there.
Downstairs there was a living room on the left as you walked into the house off the sidewalk and the dining room to the right. From the living room you walked into grandma and grandpa's bedroom after passing the big stuffed deer head above the heating stove. The living room had one light bulb in the middle of the room that hung down on its cord. Not too fancy of a light fixture and it did not really give off much light either. After great grandpa Jansen passed away grandma and grandpa bought a TV set that set near the deer head. Before he passed away great grandpa sat there with his cane that he would hook around our ankles as we passed by to tease us. On the wall was an oval picture frame with a picture of grandpa's mother and father. Aunt Martha has the frame now with the 1968 pictures that were taken for grandma and grandpa's 50Th wedding anniversary.
To get to the kitchen, you could either go through the dining room pass the stairs and through the door or you could go in from Grandma and Grandpa's bedroom. I remember the kitchen had metal cabinets. I would help grandma dry the dishes. She always told me that a good dish dryer would get what the dishwasher missed, so the dishes looked clean when they went into the cupboard. In the corner of the kitchen, by the dining room door was an old wall hung wooden phone with the mouthpiece on the phone box, or whatever they call it, and the ear piece was on a cord that you held up to your ear. There was a crank on the side that you would crank to ring the operator so you could make your call. I remember my dad calling Aunt Shirley one day and telling her that she should put a paper bag over her phone because he was from the phone company and they were going to blow out the lines and might get dust all over her house. She knew the call came from grandma's house and realized it was a prank call from my dad when he hung up the phone, because that phone would make a dinging sound on the other end of the line when it was hung up. I think Uncle Kenny made a lamp out of that old phone. I wonder if he still has it!
I don't know how much space the kitchen had because it had a door on all 4 walls. One from the bedroom, the dining room, the porch and the utility porch where there was a bathroom and a pantry. The porch off the kitchen was a square area. May have been a patio, but could have best been used as a room if it were added into the house. We used to sleep out on that porch or on the grass. I remember one night Charlene and I were sleeping outside watching the falling stars while in sleeping bags. We had the old black dog, I think her name was Lady. She crawled to the bottom of Charlene's sleeping bag and threw up. Seems like that ended our sleep out for that night. Charlene had a cat named Mouser too, but don't know if Mouser lived in that house or in the house higher on the hill.
I think the utility porch was an add on to the house when they put plumbing into the house. It had the bathroom on one end. I may have described the bathroom in one of the other posts, but will do it again because this bathroom was unique. The toilet sat up on a platform and so you had to step up to it to sit on the "throne". The water tank was hung high on the wall with a long pull chain that you pulled to flush the toilet. Interesting. I have only seen one other toilet like that since in an old hotel in Portland, Oregon. The bath tub was footed. (Sat up on feet) The room was not heated except with a space heater, so was a mighty cold room in the winter. As I remember, it was only heated if you took a bath, not if you were just going in there to do your bathroom business. Those were the only things in the bathroom. No sink, just a tub. The door locked with a square iron box with a lever that you pushed on the top of the box. That house must have been built a long long time ago.
I also remember the firetruck coming around on Christmas Eve. Santa rode the firetruck and I was as impressed with him as much as Susie was. He could remember our names. Imagine, Santa remembering all us kids names, boy were we special. Never mind the presents, Santa knew each and everyone of our names!
We were special, we lived in a family that got together allot. Grandma and grandpa's house was where the action was. From the looks of the size of that house today, it must have been busting at the seams. Grandma was happiest when she had her family all together. The bigger it got the better. I don't know about anyone else, but I felt a lot of love during those times. Still go to Kalama for hugs, 'cuz I know that is where I can get them. I still feel special there.
Monday, June 30, 2008
Jansen Memories - Susan Fink
My first memory of G’ma and G’pa Jansen was when we had first moved to Washington and my G’pa Weeks was sick. Mom and daddy left us three kids with g’ma and g’pa Jansen while they went to Nampa, Idaho. When they came back (in the night?), they picked up Chuck and left Karen and I. I felt SO bad they hadn’t taken us. G’ma said they would get us soon…she was probably counting the minutes.
Once when we were staying there…I’m not sure if it was at that time or not…Charlene, Karen and I woke up early…we were sleeping with her - lucky girl. She promised me her Coke a Cola that was in the fridge if I would go ask g’pa if we could get up…I didn’t even like pop, but I idolized aunt Charlene and headed down the stairs. I only got half way down the first time, but she gave me a pep talk and off I went again.
I got clear up to the bed this time…I can still see them sleeping peacefully there…I tried to talk myself into reaching out and touching him, but just couldn’t get up the nerve to wake them up…thank gosh! Charlene was pretty upset with me, but must have gotten over it ‘cause she’s always seemed to like me since.
One day, uncle Pete was teasing me so I told g’ma on him, then he said I was a tattletale and was growing a tail like a monkey. I trotted in to tell g’ma that and she said, “do you see a tail? Now go outside and quit tattling.“ I was shocked that she seemed to side with Pete when he was so ‘mean’.
I can remember that house (the old one) so plainly still. It seemed so big, but whenever I drive by it, I’m so amazed that all those people could fit into it…and it’s been added onto since and is STILL small.
I can remember great grandpa sitting in his chair by the stove. His hair was so white and he always had his cane there.
It was so fun to go there at Christmas. We’d all stand out on the porch and wait for Santa to come on the firetruck. It was so wonderful that he (uncle Kenny) would call out all us kids’ names and wish us a “MERRY CHRISTMAS!!” I still love that memory! It was awesome to a little girl. How lucky we were to have such a GREAT uncle! Thank you, uncle Kenny!
After I got my horse, g’pa made a hackamore and chest strap for my horse out of yellow, nylon rope…boy, did I look classy riding around after that.
Once when we were staying there…I’m not sure if it was at that time or not…Charlene, Karen and I woke up early…we were sleeping with her - lucky girl. She promised me her Coke a Cola that was in the fridge if I would go ask g’pa if we could get up…I didn’t even like pop, but I idolized aunt Charlene and headed down the stairs. I only got half way down the first time, but she gave me a pep talk and off I went again.
I got clear up to the bed this time…I can still see them sleeping peacefully there…I tried to talk myself into reaching out and touching him, but just couldn’t get up the nerve to wake them up…thank gosh! Charlene was pretty upset with me, but must have gotten over it ‘cause she’s always seemed to like me since.
One day, uncle Pete was teasing me so I told g’ma on him, then he said I was a tattletale and was growing a tail like a monkey. I trotted in to tell g’ma that and she said, “do you see a tail? Now go outside and quit tattling.“ I was shocked that she seemed to side with Pete when he was so ‘mean’.
I can remember that house (the old one) so plainly still. It seemed so big, but whenever I drive by it, I’m so amazed that all those people could fit into it…and it’s been added onto since and is STILL small.
I can remember great grandpa sitting in his chair by the stove. His hair was so white and he always had his cane there.
It was so fun to go there at Christmas. We’d all stand out on the porch and wait for Santa to come on the firetruck. It was so wonderful that he (uncle Kenny) would call out all us kids’ names and wish us a “MERRY CHRISTMAS!!” I still love that memory! It was awesome to a little girl. How lucky we were to have such a GREAT uncle! Thank you, uncle Kenny!
After I got my horse, g’pa made a hackamore and chest strap for my horse out of yellow, nylon rope…boy, did I look classy riding around after that.
Friday, June 20, 2008
Trip to Idaho 1935 -Karl W. Jansen
Dad had been dropping little hints about going to Idaho, maybe move there in the spring. I was all ears and hoping. A young boy and his dad had stopped in Scandia to visit some relatives for a few days. Our front yard was a pretty popular place for kids fun. Seems like we had kids of our own to fit any age bracket. This kid liked Martha so we got to see a lot of him for a few days. He and his dad were on their way to Idaho where his uncle lived in Challis, Idaho. Hunting, fishing, trapping and gold panning. Still Indians around there, too. I was ready.
I wanted to have some money to spend along the way so I intensified my find a way to make money efforts. I hit all the dumps and alleys looking for anything made of brass, copper, aluminum, and even iron. It took a lot of iron to bring in a penny. It was winter and my sled was the hauler. The biggest addition to my hoard was when I found a fifty-cent piece in the dirt at a blacksmith shop. I made the mistake of telling Jack about it and he thought he should have half of it. Looking back I can’t believe I said, "okay if you will go with me to the Soda Fountain and drink a crème soda with me". Being in a good mood he agreed. That was my first soda pop. I think I sipped on it till it got warm. Sitting in the Fountain having a soda pop really felt big time. One time I almost found some big money, not quite. I was down at the end of main street and I saw that Walt Prebels business was doing a little construction work. He had the ice cutting monopoly to fill the ice house with big squares of ice from the river to cool the townspeople's ice boxes. I noticed a wheelbarrow filled with liquid concrete in front of a mixer. There were a couple of planks leading to some forms. If they could see what a good worker I was they might give me a job. So far so good, no one was looking so I lifted the handles on the barrow and started down the planks. For some reason the concrete started moving from side to side and in a short while I could not slow it down. About ten feet short of the forms it tipped over. No one hollered so I righted the wheelbarrow, backed it to the mixer and fled the scene. I scratched heavy construction off my resume.
The middle of March in Scandia in 1935 is a little hazy for me. Seems like all of a sudden we have a car. I’m sure its not the Baby Overland dad put together because this one has a cab. Dad cut the top off right behind the front seat and built a large box there. It’s hard for me to believe that my memory didn’t think this was important enough to properly etch in my brain.. That box had to be pretty big. All of our belongings and including mom's Dexter Speedex washing machine and room for seven of us. Dad and Jack shared the front seat with a friend, Elmer Crider.
It seems odd to me now that Jack, Martha, and I never talked about this period in our lives. I kinda feel bad because I enjoyed it so much. It was a wild adventure. Well, we are set to go to Idaho. It’s March and clear and cold. I’ve got three dollars and eighty-four cents in my pocket and enough tobacco to last at least a week for my pipe.
The last night in Scandia. We are leaving in the morning. I don’t think I will miss the every year floods of the Republican river or the dust storms, cyclones, the intense cold in the winter and the blazing sun in the summer. I still have a lot of animosity towards June Freed for getting our dog shot. Looking ahead is better than looking back. Dad and mom visited some of their card playing friends down the street a couple of blocks. The electricity had been turned off so for light we had a Coleman lantern. At bedtime I called dad on the phone and ask how to turn off the lantern. He said just turn the little knob till it stops. I did that and the brightness went down but little flames were coming out around the top. I called dad again, I must have been in charge I don’t remember Jack or Martha being there, dad says just set it outside. The flames coming out the top where the handle was were hot on my hand so I calmly panicked and threw it out the living room window which was not open. The lantern bounced out into the yard, probably snow. The hero had saved the house and kids and then went to bed. I wonder if I slept that night
The next morning we all got aboard and left Scandia. Dad, Jack, and Elmer in the cab and the other seven of us in the box - the thrill of anticipation has reached the climax. I wish I could get a glimpse of that box, the size of it, seating, windows anything. I guess that wasn’t important to an eleven year old. Just actually being on the way was the big thing. I don’t recall seeing anything out of a window as we drove along. I do recall stopping and repairing a flat tire occasionally. The roads were pretty bumpy. Snow along the road. I do remember stopping at the Platte River bridge and getting out to look at the river. I recall thinking it odd that the river didn’t seem to have any banks. Dad said the Platte had a reputation of being a mile wide and an inch deep. On the road somewhere, probably in Wyoming, we had a flat tire. We got out and probably Mom made something to eat. We were on a gentle hill fairly flat except the way we were going. No trees, just grass and sagebrush. It was my job to gather fire stuff to keep the tire fixers warm and to be outside the box in a little comfort. It was the first time I had smelled sagebrush burning. I really liked it and I still do. We must have been able to see through the cab and out the windshield a little. I remember no other cars on the road. We must have driven straight through to Cheyenne. Where would we have slept? We had no camping gear, we did have at least two drivers. Must have drove day and night for two days to reach Cheyenne. I think Elmer had relatives there. We stayed at their place for a couple of days. We were out of money. I got acquainted with the neighborhood kids and enjoyed myself playing different games till late at night. One of the things I remember was a big ‘my guess’ a big artesian fountain in the middle of a large area, possibly a square block. As the water flowed out and up it froze and created a very big icicle. It seems that a lot of people had frozen water pipes because every time we went to get water by holding a pail against the icicle to fill, there were other people doing the same thing. That upside down icicle must have been twenty feet high. A hollow chute up the middle where the water shot up to fall on the outside. I would like to go back to Cheyenne and see if I could find a reference or a picture of it taken in 35.
Fun and games over, we needed money for gas to get to Idaho. The folks sold anything they could to get money for including mother’s prized possession, the Dexter Speedex washing machine. The figure I remember was five dollars. No one had any money. Gas was around fifteen cents a gallon, so five dollars worth was quite a lot. No one ever ask me for any of my hoard. When we chanced to stop at a store I would buy candy. It must have been the sixteenth of March we stopped at a little town, being Mary B’s birthday I gave her five pennies. Imagine a five year old in 1935 with five coins, life doesn’t get much better than that. The next place we stopped was Pocatello. I guess we were broke flat. Dad went to the Salvation Army and had to leave mother’s wedding ring to get enough money to get to Paul, Idaho. She did get her ring out of hock later. The house we moved into had been a place where a guy had been using it to skin rabbits. Wild rabbits were plentiful and he probably got a nickle or so for a dried hide. The place didn’t seem too bad after mom and company did a cleaning job on it. Anyway here we are, things are looking up.
These are my memories of our trip to Idaho. Want to hear mother’s story? I can hear her now if someone would ask her about the trip she would just say “it was okay, we just coasted along” what it was like for her must have been a nightmare. She had probably been feeling fairly content in Scandia. Thing weren’t easy but some enjoyable times. Then put in a box. A moving box with seven kids and adults. How do you feed them, when do you have time to cook anything, with what, what do you have to fix to eat. No heat, no facilities like a bathroom, maybe a little pot. No privacy. What to do ,sitting in a jarring box on board seats starring at the walls for hours on end, trying to get a little sleep or rest sitting up. Trying to keep the little ones as comfortable as possible. Yeah, she just coasted along. Losing her washing machine when she had seven kids and a husband and then to possibly lose her wedding ring. I can’t even imagine the sadness she must have felt. I don’t remember seeing any sign of this in her outlook, just do the best you can with what you have. She did get her ring back. I don’t know how long it took to get another washing machine. Maybe two kids later.
I wanted to have some money to spend along the way so I intensified my find a way to make money efforts. I hit all the dumps and alleys looking for anything made of brass, copper, aluminum, and even iron. It took a lot of iron to bring in a penny. It was winter and my sled was the hauler. The biggest addition to my hoard was when I found a fifty-cent piece in the dirt at a blacksmith shop. I made the mistake of telling Jack about it and he thought he should have half of it. Looking back I can’t believe I said, "okay if you will go with me to the Soda Fountain and drink a crème soda with me". Being in a good mood he agreed. That was my first soda pop. I think I sipped on it till it got warm. Sitting in the Fountain having a soda pop really felt big time. One time I almost found some big money, not quite. I was down at the end of main street and I saw that Walt Prebels business was doing a little construction work. He had the ice cutting monopoly to fill the ice house with big squares of ice from the river to cool the townspeople's ice boxes. I noticed a wheelbarrow filled with liquid concrete in front of a mixer. There were a couple of planks leading to some forms. If they could see what a good worker I was they might give me a job. So far so good, no one was looking so I lifted the handles on the barrow and started down the planks. For some reason the concrete started moving from side to side and in a short while I could not slow it down. About ten feet short of the forms it tipped over. No one hollered so I righted the wheelbarrow, backed it to the mixer and fled the scene. I scratched heavy construction off my resume.
The middle of March in Scandia in 1935 is a little hazy for me. Seems like all of a sudden we have a car. I’m sure its not the Baby Overland dad put together because this one has a cab. Dad cut the top off right behind the front seat and built a large box there. It’s hard for me to believe that my memory didn’t think this was important enough to properly etch in my brain.. That box had to be pretty big. All of our belongings and including mom's Dexter Speedex washing machine and room for seven of us. Dad and Jack shared the front seat with a friend, Elmer Crider.
It seems odd to me now that Jack, Martha, and I never talked about this period in our lives. I kinda feel bad because I enjoyed it so much. It was a wild adventure. Well, we are set to go to Idaho. It’s March and clear and cold. I’ve got three dollars and eighty-four cents in my pocket and enough tobacco to last at least a week for my pipe.
The last night in Scandia. We are leaving in the morning. I don’t think I will miss the every year floods of the Republican river or the dust storms, cyclones, the intense cold in the winter and the blazing sun in the summer. I still have a lot of animosity towards June Freed for getting our dog shot. Looking ahead is better than looking back. Dad and mom visited some of their card playing friends down the street a couple of blocks. The electricity had been turned off so for light we had a Coleman lantern. At bedtime I called dad on the phone and ask how to turn off the lantern. He said just turn the little knob till it stops. I did that and the brightness went down but little flames were coming out around the top. I called dad again, I must have been in charge I don’t remember Jack or Martha being there, dad says just set it outside. The flames coming out the top where the handle was were hot on my hand so I calmly panicked and threw it out the living room window which was not open. The lantern bounced out into the yard, probably snow. The hero had saved the house and kids and then went to bed. I wonder if I slept that night
The next morning we all got aboard and left Scandia. Dad, Jack, and Elmer in the cab and the other seven of us in the box - the thrill of anticipation has reached the climax. I wish I could get a glimpse of that box, the size of it, seating, windows anything. I guess that wasn’t important to an eleven year old. Just actually being on the way was the big thing. I don’t recall seeing anything out of a window as we drove along. I do recall stopping and repairing a flat tire occasionally. The roads were pretty bumpy. Snow along the road. I do remember stopping at the Platte River bridge and getting out to look at the river. I recall thinking it odd that the river didn’t seem to have any banks. Dad said the Platte had a reputation of being a mile wide and an inch deep. On the road somewhere, probably in Wyoming, we had a flat tire. We got out and probably Mom made something to eat. We were on a gentle hill fairly flat except the way we were going. No trees, just grass and sagebrush. It was my job to gather fire stuff to keep the tire fixers warm and to be outside the box in a little comfort. It was the first time I had smelled sagebrush burning. I really liked it and I still do. We must have been able to see through the cab and out the windshield a little. I remember no other cars on the road. We must have driven straight through to Cheyenne. Where would we have slept? We had no camping gear, we did have at least two drivers. Must have drove day and night for two days to reach Cheyenne. I think Elmer had relatives there. We stayed at their place for a couple of days. We were out of money. I got acquainted with the neighborhood kids and enjoyed myself playing different games till late at night. One of the things I remember was a big ‘my guess’ a big artesian fountain in the middle of a large area, possibly a square block. As the water flowed out and up it froze and created a very big icicle. It seems that a lot of people had frozen water pipes because every time we went to get water by holding a pail against the icicle to fill, there were other people doing the same thing. That upside down icicle must have been twenty feet high. A hollow chute up the middle where the water shot up to fall on the outside. I would like to go back to Cheyenne and see if I could find a reference or a picture of it taken in 35.
Fun and games over, we needed money for gas to get to Idaho. The folks sold anything they could to get money for including mother’s prized possession, the Dexter Speedex washing machine. The figure I remember was five dollars. No one had any money. Gas was around fifteen cents a gallon, so five dollars worth was quite a lot. No one ever ask me for any of my hoard. When we chanced to stop at a store I would buy candy. It must have been the sixteenth of March we stopped at a little town, being Mary B’s birthday I gave her five pennies. Imagine a five year old in 1935 with five coins, life doesn’t get much better than that. The next place we stopped was Pocatello. I guess we were broke flat. Dad went to the Salvation Army and had to leave mother’s wedding ring to get enough money to get to Paul, Idaho. She did get her ring out of hock later. The house we moved into had been a place where a guy had been using it to skin rabbits. Wild rabbits were plentiful and he probably got a nickle or so for a dried hide. The place didn’t seem too bad after mom and company did a cleaning job on it. Anyway here we are, things are looking up.
These are my memories of our trip to Idaho. Want to hear mother’s story? I can hear her now if someone would ask her about the trip she would just say “it was okay, we just coasted along” what it was like for her must have been a nightmare. She had probably been feeling fairly content in Scandia. Thing weren’t easy but some enjoyable times. Then put in a box. A moving box with seven kids and adults. How do you feed them, when do you have time to cook anything, with what, what do you have to fix to eat. No heat, no facilities like a bathroom, maybe a little pot. No privacy. What to do ,sitting in a jarring box on board seats starring at the walls for hours on end, trying to get a little sleep or rest sitting up. Trying to keep the little ones as comfortable as possible. Yeah, she just coasted along. Losing her washing machine when she had seven kids and a husband and then to possibly lose her wedding ring. I can’t even imagine the sadness she must have felt. I don’t remember seeing any sign of this in her outlook, just do the best you can with what you have. She did get her ring back. I don’t know how long it took to get another washing machine. Maybe two kids later.
Tuesday, May 27, 2008
Our Visit to Hazelton, March 2008 - Karen Brockway
When my husband Ken and I were planning a long road trip from Kelso to Texas this year, my dad Karl mentioned that we would be going right past the town where he was born--Hazelton, Kansas. When he said that he and Grandma Jansen were both born in the same house, 23 years apart, I knew we would make the visit. Mom and Dad had been to that town 20 years ago and so they had lots of advice to offer. One thing they neglected to tell us was that Hazelton is now nearly a ghost town with only unmarked roads leading to it. Our mission was to find the house or at least discover its former location, but compared to locating the town, that turned out to be a piece of cake.
The town of Hazelton is well preserved but most of the buildings on main street are now vacant. We drove down the wide, wide street looking for the senior center where Dad told us we would find names and historical information. We parked our car and walked down the sidewalk to check out the vacant buildings. I remember how noisy it was. Never had I heard so many birds singing and crickets or cicadas chirping. Only one other car was parked on the street, and that’s how we knew the bank was open. A helpful lady behind the desk told us she would call Ralph to open the senior center for us as it is only open one day a week. While we waited for Ralph, we continued to visit with the bank employee and two bank patrons who were passing time with her. When we told them what we were looking for, they all agreed: "You need to talk to Lucille". Lucille, a 97 year old native of Hazelton, would know about the Prock family. She used to be a beautician with a shop right next to her house in a little red trailer and she knew everything, so they claimed.
We saw Ralph pull up at the senior center. He had driven the block from his house in his big old silver Buick because it was too hot to walk. Ralph was about 90 years old and very kind and friendly. He unlocked the doors and pulled out all the books of names and photos but we weren’t able to find anything that would help us. Nothing. It was time to call Lucille. Ralph reached for a bright red telephone on a table and dialed her number. Lucille was waiting for us, he said, just a walk down the street, brick house on the corner past the bank.
It was hard to imagine anyone allowing two strangers to walk right through your front gate and up to your kitchen door but she did. A voice called “come on in!” I expected it to be a caregiver and that Lucille would be sitting in a wheelchair, but it was Lucille herself. She was bustling around in the kitchen making lunch for her son who also lived in Hazelton. She had beautiful youthful-looking skin, flushed from cooking soup in a big kettle. If this woman is 97, I want to move to Hazelton too. Sitting at her kitchen table we were treated to a story of a booming farm town with several churches, three grocery stores, a hardware store, and a theater. She remembered going horse buying with one of the Prock girls and her husband or boyfriend one time. The family was a very nice family, she recalled. She also remembered going Christmas caroling during her high school years with her church group and singing in front of the Prock family home. It was a pretty two-story white house and the family members came out on an upstairs porch or landing to listen to the carolers. The house was located west of town past the grain storage tanks, across the railroad tracks, and down a dirt road about a quarter of a mile. She said we would be able to see some evergreen trees that used to be right next to the house, although the house had fallen down years ago.
Driving back down the main street, Ken and I met two cars whose occupants waved cheerily at us. The whole town knew who we were, it seemed. We saw the grain co-op towers and turned to cross the tracks. We knew the house location when we saw it from Lucille’s good directions. The photos we took don’t really do it justice, and we regret that we didn’t walk back to the small pile of boards and grab one just for a souvenir, but there was a cattle pen and a windmill next to a grove of old trees.
We found out later that Dad had only lived in the house for a year at the most so he didn’t have any memories of it, but we are hoping Aunt Martha can recognize the setting. Experiencing Hazelton, the town where my Grandmother became a wife and mother, the town where my Dad was born, well, that was worth the trip. I only regret that we didn’t take a picture of Lucille.
Photos: Hazelton Main Street, windmill and cattle pen at right side of house location, Karen at left side of house location with evergreen trees.
How I Met My Wife - Karl Jansen
I remember very clearly how I met Florence.
A couple of my friends and I had pulled into the Weeks' driveway. One of my friends was kinda going with Betty, Florence's older sister. Betty came out of the house and was visiting with us, three 'men' about town, when Florence and her mother drove up and as we had the driveway blocked, they parked in front of their place. There was no walkway to the house from there. A little irrigation ditch and grass lawn. They parked across the ditch and walked to the house. We felt a little guilty about blocking the driveway. so we were watching them. They never looked our way, no critical glances even. I watched Florence step across that ditch so graceful and poised and I told the guys that there was the girl I was going to marry. She was 13/14 at that time. I think Betty told her what I had said so she was forewarned. It took 3 1/2 years to win a consent from her and her parents. The two guys with me are both dead, but I have their proxies and we all vote 'yes' this is a true story.
Now Flo has to add a note to this. Jim 'Dub' Banta was one of the guys with him. We remained great friends until Dub died. Every time we saw them he always told me that 'you haven't changed one bit since the day Zeke said 'there's the girl I am going to marry'. Our son Jim is named for that sweet man! The Star guys all had nicknames given to them by another one of their buddies. Karl was given Ezekial Heinovich and that was a name they had seen on a mail box. He was always Zeke to that crew.
A couple of my friends and I had pulled into the Weeks' driveway. One of my friends was kinda going with Betty, Florence's older sister. Betty came out of the house and was visiting with us, three 'men' about town, when Florence and her mother drove up and as we had the driveway blocked, they parked in front of their place. There was no walkway to the house from there. A little irrigation ditch and grass lawn. They parked across the ditch and walked to the house. We felt a little guilty about blocking the driveway. so we were watching them. They never looked our way, no critical glances even. I watched Florence step across that ditch so graceful and poised and I told the guys that there was the girl I was going to marry. She was 13/14 at that time. I think Betty told her what I had said so she was forewarned. It took 3 1/2 years to win a consent from her and her parents. The two guys with me are both dead, but I have their proxies and we all vote 'yes' this is a true story.
Now Flo has to add a note to this. Jim 'Dub' Banta was one of the guys with him. We remained great friends until Dub died. Every time we saw them he always told me that 'you haven't changed one bit since the day Zeke said 'there's the girl I am going to marry'. Our son Jim is named for that sweet man! The Star guys all had nicknames given to them by another one of their buddies. Karl was given Ezekial Heinovich and that was a name they had seen on a mail box. He was always Zeke to that crew.
Thursday, May 22, 2008
Chapter 3 - Karl Jansen
Jack had a shoeshine kit that he would take up town on occasion to make a few coins.
We had pruned a few of our trees mostly for fire wood. Jack and Dad had rigged up a sawing gig to cut the branches to stove length and it was my job to drag the limbs to the back of the house where they were. I whined and complained about the cold. Jack says we are not complaining. I said, I have to walk north. Big laugh. What I was referring to was that I had to walk into the north wind and they were on the leeward side of the house. After that any time someone griped about being cold, someone would pipe up, "Oh you had to walk north". Sound in back ground of teeth being gritted.
There was a part basement under the house. Food stuff like ham, bacon, big crocks for salted stuff. I remember the corn kernels in brine. We had a sieve pan for a dipper, scoop out some corn in a bowl then rinse and rinse. The corn still tasted a little salty. Lots of potatoes, apples, shelves of canned stuff.
We had city water only in the kitchen sink. The turnoff was out in the yard. It consisted of a half inch square rod in a small pipe. The rod fit in a little square hole many feet below the ground for non-freezing capabilities. Once in a while some idiot kid would pull up the rod and we had to dig down to the main pipe and put the rod in again. They never did it twice.
We had acquired another dog, his name was Pal. He was a reddish brown, maybe a foot and a half high with mixed genes. He spent the night on Jack's and my bed, but his favorite spot was in a box behind the stove. He had a problem of bad gas. He would cut one loose then he would open one eye and watch everyone. When one of us turned our heads quick and looked at him, he would jump up and run to the door. The door was opened and he got booted out..
We burned wood, cobs, and coal to heat with, the cobs mostly for cooking. Dad and some of his friends would bring in three big cottonwood logs at a time and every night after school it was my job to saw off three chunks and split them, put them in the wood room; misery-whip time. big saw.
We had concrete sidewalks on two sides of our place and the big thing was an orange crate scooter, consisting of a three foot 2 by 4 upright and another one to stand on behind the orange crate. The wheels were one roller-skate bisected, half in front and half behind. A cross bar for hanging on. Seems like every kid had one. Transportation for small grocery orders. We also rolled hoops. An iron ten inch in diameter ring off a wagon hub. We propelled it with a lath.
We lived across the street from the Presbyterian Church. Someone gave me a hand me down suit to wear to Sunday School. That was the only suit I ever owned. I went to church pretty steady until I outgrew the suit. We gave it to someone else to help them walk the straight and narrow.
Another one of our recreations was to hit the country-side and gather stuff. A lot of farms had been abandoned and the people had an auction sale, then left. We would get volunteer stuff from the gardens. Every farm had fruit trees so we got lots of that. We carried a tote sack. Mom would process anything I brought home.
There was one Christmas vacation I didn't enjoy too much. It started out good. I went to Billy Dunn's place just out of town at the foot of the bluff. I wasn't supposed to play with Billy. His family had a bad reputation. His older sister's boyfriend was a boxer. Billy had all the things needed to make a soap box cart. We built a nifty one, even had a steering wheel rigged to the front wheels with ropes. We made a few runs down the bluff. His younger sisters wanted a ride so we all got on, pretty crowded! I drove down the hill weaving a little for fear appeal. The slope was lined with trees. I headed for one to scare the girls, but when I wanted to swerve back, the steering rope broke. I stuck my foot out to stop us. When we hit the tree my foot was between cart and tree. Big Pain! I couldn't walk so Billy pulled me home in a little red coaster wagon. Here is Billy Dunn with me--how do I explain why we are together. I came up with a story about being beyond Billy’s
Place and stepped in a hole. I know I taxed Mom’s ability to keep faith with some of my excuses. I had to come clean the next day when it hurt so bad. Mom called Dr. Hagman and he said the foot was broken pretty badly, not like stepping in a hole. He put a cast on it and the pain stopped. By the time Christmas vacation was over I could hobble to school.
We had a special treat one day when the PallMall cigarette PR car came to our town. The car was an Austen and the man inside was a midget. Barely room for him with all the cigarettes. Carton and cartons of them. He would drive along slow and holler, “Call for Phillip Morris” What a voice. A few of us town kids followed him all over town and as he left town he threw out a carton of cigarettes for us. We smoked pretty fancy for awhile. I think all the boys smoked, but I don’t remember any of the girls smoking. Have to ask Martha.
A few of us city boys hit an occupied farm one night and got a good watermelon, but we also got caught. We had to work two days picking potatoes for the farmer. What happened to the spank them and let them go theory. I think it was about this time that I thought maybe I was the kind of little boy my mom didn’t want me to play with.
I mentioned the floods. We also had dust storms and cyclones. Run for the storm cellar where ever you hear what could be a cyclone. I don’t think anyone locked them. They were pretty much alike. About five feet below ground, pole and sod roof, slanty doorway. Shelves for canned goodies and bench seats. Big enough for six or eight people. Dust storms every year. Yeah, we are still in Kansas.
One of the sad times I can remember was when one of our buddies stepped on something and cut his foot. He got blood poisoning then lockjaw. We took turns sitting in his room with him. He was in coma condition but his mother wanted us to talk to him as if he could hear us. I was with him when he died, not pleasant.
We had good times too. We had a big city park. Big crowd every week-end. All kinds of race competitions and baseball . The surrounding towns had their own town teams. Mom played on the gals team as the catcher. She caught the ball in her right hand, the left hand jerked the glove off her right hand ball and all. She then grabbed the ball from the mitt and threw it. The moves were so smooth and quick you didn’t really see it. Not many gals stole second base. They didn’t replace her so I guess she did O K.
Later in the day we would have boxing matches. There was a ring with a pad on the floor put up in the dance hall by the ball park. We could choose our opponent. We would go three rounds. The winner go fifteen cents and the loser got ten cents. We could go to the movie for a dime and the winner bought the popcorn and split.
A group of actors, ”The Chick Boys Players” would come to the theater fairly often. When they arrived in the afternoon I would be there and volunteer to help set up. Free ticket being the object. I always got the job. I will never forget the night they did Doctor Jeckle and Mister Hyde. All afternoon I watched them put the props together. The cane that was a weapon, how it came apart. The shattering chairs. I knew it was all phony stuff, but that night at the play Mr. Hyde was real. I was in the third row of seats back. I would duck behind the seat in front of me when he was on stage, but I would look up often to be sure he was still up there. I wanted to go home but it was dark and would he stay in the theater.
Sometimes, maybe during the week they would show silent movies with the writing at the bottom of the screen for the dialog. I think silents just cost a nickel. We could look through a back window and see the back of the screen and try to read the words kinda backwards.
The town jail was in a little park by the theater. Some nights we could hear a locked up drinker singing or another calling for help… “Let me outta here!”
We played baseball at school before school and noon hour. The two biggest kids would take turns choosing a player. I was small and not fast so I was nearly always chosen last. I don’t remember feeling bad about that. When the choosing was over we were equal.
I must have been in about the sixth grade when I played in the school pep band. The main reason for this was to get into all the ball games free. One night I went to the band building to get my clarinet and as I pulled it off the shelf the reed clamp hooked on something and came off reed and all. I didn’t notice it until I got to the gym. I told our band teacher my problem and she said the band building was locked, just go through the motions of playing. She played the same clarinet that I did. After the game I was in the restroom and an older fellow I knew said he had never heard me play so good and he gave me two dimes. I never said I was perfect, there is a good reason for that.
Mom made the best cottage cheese in town. I remember it hanging on the clothes line in sacks to drain. I peddled cups of it around town. Fifteen cents a cup. Mom got a dime and I got the nickel. Dr. Hagman was a steady customer, usually asked for two cups. I would go back later and pick up the cups.
In the spring the first plants to come up was lambs quarter. I really liked it and as soon as it started coming up I would bring a big bunch home. Greens for dinner tonight. Mom always made me feel like a real breadwinner when I brought something home for her to cook.
We had lutefisk for Christmas dinner. Most of the people in our area were Swedes or Norwegians. We fit in fairly well being Danes. Lutefisk was what they had for Christmas dinner ..it looked to me like a piece of cardboard in the shape of a flat fish. It was dry and hard as a board. It had to be soaked in water to rejuvenate it, then cooked. Why anyone thought it was a delicacy I don’t know. It didn’t taste good to me.
When a person paid for their groceries the store keeper would fill a small sack of candy and give it to them. For the kiddies.
While we lived in this house in Scandia, dad was gone most of the summer. I think he liked it out west. There was more work for a person. He would write home I don’t know how often and tell about where he was and what he was doing. Idaho seemed to be the place he liked best. I do recall one letter when he was in New Mexico.
Some of us boys would go down to the hobo jungle by the tracks under the railroad bridge about half a mile out of town. We would scavenge a few gardens and take a few things to the camp, quite a few people did that. There was usually quite a lot of guys there. Not the same ones, just passing through. They would pat us on the shoulder and thank us. I probably told them about dad being in Idaho and how much work there was there. Mom really didn’t approve of me going there but she didn’t tell me to stop. I was in the seventh grade. I could take care of myself. I couldn’t fight very well but I could talk my way out of most trouble. I should have used some of that skill talking myself out of getting into it.
We had pruned a few of our trees mostly for fire wood. Jack and Dad had rigged up a sawing gig to cut the branches to stove length and it was my job to drag the limbs to the back of the house where they were. I whined and complained about the cold. Jack says we are not complaining. I said, I have to walk north. Big laugh. What I was referring to was that I had to walk into the north wind and they were on the leeward side of the house. After that any time someone griped about being cold, someone would pipe up, "Oh you had to walk north". Sound in back ground of teeth being gritted.
There was a part basement under the house. Food stuff like ham, bacon, big crocks for salted stuff. I remember the corn kernels in brine. We had a sieve pan for a dipper, scoop out some corn in a bowl then rinse and rinse. The corn still tasted a little salty. Lots of potatoes, apples, shelves of canned stuff.
We had city water only in the kitchen sink. The turnoff was out in the yard. It consisted of a half inch square rod in a small pipe. The rod fit in a little square hole many feet below the ground for non-freezing capabilities. Once in a while some idiot kid would pull up the rod and we had to dig down to the main pipe and put the rod in again. They never did it twice.
We had acquired another dog, his name was Pal. He was a reddish brown, maybe a foot and a half high with mixed genes. He spent the night on Jack's and my bed, but his favorite spot was in a box behind the stove. He had a problem of bad gas. He would cut one loose then he would open one eye and watch everyone. When one of us turned our heads quick and looked at him, he would jump up and run to the door. The door was opened and he got booted out..
We burned wood, cobs, and coal to heat with, the cobs mostly for cooking. Dad and some of his friends would bring in three big cottonwood logs at a time and every night after school it was my job to saw off three chunks and split them, put them in the wood room; misery-whip time. big saw.
We had concrete sidewalks on two sides of our place and the big thing was an orange crate scooter, consisting of a three foot 2 by 4 upright and another one to stand on behind the orange crate. The wheels were one roller-skate bisected, half in front and half behind. A cross bar for hanging on. Seems like every kid had one. Transportation for small grocery orders. We also rolled hoops. An iron ten inch in diameter ring off a wagon hub. We propelled it with a lath.
We lived across the street from the Presbyterian Church. Someone gave me a hand me down suit to wear to Sunday School. That was the only suit I ever owned. I went to church pretty steady until I outgrew the suit. We gave it to someone else to help them walk the straight and narrow.
Another one of our recreations was to hit the country-side and gather stuff. A lot of farms had been abandoned and the people had an auction sale, then left. We would get volunteer stuff from the gardens. Every farm had fruit trees so we got lots of that. We carried a tote sack. Mom would process anything I brought home.
There was one Christmas vacation I didn't enjoy too much. It started out good. I went to Billy Dunn's place just out of town at the foot of the bluff. I wasn't supposed to play with Billy. His family had a bad reputation. His older sister's boyfriend was a boxer. Billy had all the things needed to make a soap box cart. We built a nifty one, even had a steering wheel rigged to the front wheels with ropes. We made a few runs down the bluff. His younger sisters wanted a ride so we all got on, pretty crowded! I drove down the hill weaving a little for fear appeal. The slope was lined with trees. I headed for one to scare the girls, but when I wanted to swerve back, the steering rope broke. I stuck my foot out to stop us. When we hit the tree my foot was between cart and tree. Big Pain! I couldn't walk so Billy pulled me home in a little red coaster wagon. Here is Billy Dunn with me--how do I explain why we are together. I came up with a story about being beyond Billy’s
Place and stepped in a hole. I know I taxed Mom’s ability to keep faith with some of my excuses. I had to come clean the next day when it hurt so bad. Mom called Dr. Hagman and he said the foot was broken pretty badly, not like stepping in a hole. He put a cast on it and the pain stopped. By the time Christmas vacation was over I could hobble to school.
We had a special treat one day when the PallMall cigarette PR car came to our town. The car was an Austen and the man inside was a midget. Barely room for him with all the cigarettes. Carton and cartons of them. He would drive along slow and holler, “Call for Phillip Morris” What a voice. A few of us town kids followed him all over town and as he left town he threw out a carton of cigarettes for us. We smoked pretty fancy for awhile. I think all the boys smoked, but I don’t remember any of the girls smoking. Have to ask Martha.
A few of us city boys hit an occupied farm one night and got a good watermelon, but we also got caught. We had to work two days picking potatoes for the farmer. What happened to the spank them and let them go theory. I think it was about this time that I thought maybe I was the kind of little boy my mom didn’t want me to play with.
I mentioned the floods. We also had dust storms and cyclones. Run for the storm cellar where ever you hear what could be a cyclone. I don’t think anyone locked them. They were pretty much alike. About five feet below ground, pole and sod roof, slanty doorway. Shelves for canned goodies and bench seats. Big enough for six or eight people. Dust storms every year. Yeah, we are still in Kansas.
One of the sad times I can remember was when one of our buddies stepped on something and cut his foot. He got blood poisoning then lockjaw. We took turns sitting in his room with him. He was in coma condition but his mother wanted us to talk to him as if he could hear us. I was with him when he died, not pleasant.
We had good times too. We had a big city park. Big crowd every week-end. All kinds of race competitions and baseball . The surrounding towns had their own town teams. Mom played on the gals team as the catcher. She caught the ball in her right hand, the left hand jerked the glove off her right hand ball and all. She then grabbed the ball from the mitt and threw it. The moves were so smooth and quick you didn’t really see it. Not many gals stole second base. They didn’t replace her so I guess she did O K.
Later in the day we would have boxing matches. There was a ring with a pad on the floor put up in the dance hall by the ball park. We could choose our opponent. We would go three rounds. The winner go fifteen cents and the loser got ten cents. We could go to the movie for a dime and the winner bought the popcorn and split.
A group of actors, ”The Chick Boys Players” would come to the theater fairly often. When they arrived in the afternoon I would be there and volunteer to help set up. Free ticket being the object. I always got the job. I will never forget the night they did Doctor Jeckle and Mister Hyde. All afternoon I watched them put the props together. The cane that was a weapon, how it came apart. The shattering chairs. I knew it was all phony stuff, but that night at the play Mr. Hyde was real. I was in the third row of seats back. I would duck behind the seat in front of me when he was on stage, but I would look up often to be sure he was still up there. I wanted to go home but it was dark and would he stay in the theater.
Sometimes, maybe during the week they would show silent movies with the writing at the bottom of the screen for the dialog. I think silents just cost a nickel. We could look through a back window and see the back of the screen and try to read the words kinda backwards.
The town jail was in a little park by the theater. Some nights we could hear a locked up drinker singing or another calling for help… “Let me outta here!”
We played baseball at school before school and noon hour. The two biggest kids would take turns choosing a player. I was small and not fast so I was nearly always chosen last. I don’t remember feeling bad about that. When the choosing was over we were equal.
I must have been in about the sixth grade when I played in the school pep band. The main reason for this was to get into all the ball games free. One night I went to the band building to get my clarinet and as I pulled it off the shelf the reed clamp hooked on something and came off reed and all. I didn’t notice it until I got to the gym. I told our band teacher my problem and she said the band building was locked, just go through the motions of playing. She played the same clarinet that I did. After the game I was in the restroom and an older fellow I knew said he had never heard me play so good and he gave me two dimes. I never said I was perfect, there is a good reason for that.
Mom made the best cottage cheese in town. I remember it hanging on the clothes line in sacks to drain. I peddled cups of it around town. Fifteen cents a cup. Mom got a dime and I got the nickel. Dr. Hagman was a steady customer, usually asked for two cups. I would go back later and pick up the cups.
In the spring the first plants to come up was lambs quarter. I really liked it and as soon as it started coming up I would bring a big bunch home. Greens for dinner tonight. Mom always made me feel like a real breadwinner when I brought something home for her to cook.
We had lutefisk for Christmas dinner. Most of the people in our area were Swedes or Norwegians. We fit in fairly well being Danes. Lutefisk was what they had for Christmas dinner ..it looked to me like a piece of cardboard in the shape of a flat fish. It was dry and hard as a board. It had to be soaked in water to rejuvenate it, then cooked. Why anyone thought it was a delicacy I don’t know. It didn’t taste good to me.
When a person paid for their groceries the store keeper would fill a small sack of candy and give it to them. For the kiddies.
While we lived in this house in Scandia, dad was gone most of the summer. I think he liked it out west. There was more work for a person. He would write home I don’t know how often and tell about where he was and what he was doing. Idaho seemed to be the place he liked best. I do recall one letter when he was in New Mexico.
Some of us boys would go down to the hobo jungle by the tracks under the railroad bridge about half a mile out of town. We would scavenge a few gardens and take a few things to the camp, quite a few people did that. There was usually quite a lot of guys there. Not the same ones, just passing through. They would pat us on the shoulder and thank us. I probably told them about dad being in Idaho and how much work there was there. Mom really didn’t approve of me going there but she didn’t tell me to stop. I was in the seventh grade. I could take care of myself. I couldn’t fight very well but I could talk my way out of most trouble. I should have used some of that skill talking myself out of getting into it.
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