Every small town back in the dark ages, had their own doctor. Laurel, Iowa, population (200-300) where I grew up, was no exception. Our town doctor's name was Dr. Wilkinson. More detail about him can be found in our town Centennial Book (1881-1981) on page 36. I've also written about his acreage where our Boy Scout troop would camp.
This memory is about his office. When you came in and waited to see the doctor in the reception room, it was a different experience than that of today. The reception room was somewhat dark with stark panneled walls, dark furntiture with very un-comfortable chairs and no soft piped in music.
It did seem like there was a stack of magazines to read-maybe. But, mainly dead silence with the exception of the grandfather clock that sat up on a mantel with the sound of its pendulum slowly moving back and forth, back and forth, back and forth.
When it came to see the doctor, it was a little creepy to be in the presence of the skeleton hanging over in the corner of the room along with the classed in unit filled with medical instruments. And, only hoping that none of those metal objects would be used on you.
Of course, every one of the doctor's patients, at one time or another, took a few table-spoons of Doc's own bottled "white" medicine. Actually, it was clear not really white. Talking to class-mates years later, we all seemed to agree that it probably was just Peppermint Schnapps or similar. An old "medicine doctor?"
He retired to his acreage home north on highway 14, between Laurel and Marshalltown during the late 1950's or so. It seems like on occasion after his retirement, mom would stop by at his place and buy a bottle of that special cure!
Sunday, August 31, 2014
THRILLER OF A DAY!
Before the important story of the day is told let's get to the event surrounding the story first. The Iowa Hawkeyes oulasted a seasoned Northern Iowa Panthers in too close of a contest for Hawkeye fans. 31-23! To know more about the game seek elewhere.
This day (August 30th, 2014) started actually the night before. Jenna Marie Thurm stayed the night with Ilah and I so we could get our journey to Iowa City started early for the big game against the Panthers of Cedar Falls, Iowa. This was to be Jenna's first trip to Iowa City to witness a Iowa Hawkeye football game at Kinnick Stadium. She was not to be disappointed. And, it would be such a pleasure to share the day with her.
The trip started around 8am leaving from Walnut Street, then with a stop, first, at the Williamsburg Grocery for a few yummy pastries. From there east on I-80 to Corralville to the parking lot near the the I-Hop resturant. We boarded the Hawkeye Express train and prepared to travel the ten minute ride to Kinnick Stadium. It does seem remarkable that the train can hold up to 1,200 passengers.
Once, arriving just south of the stadium, we walked up the wide wooden stairs and we wereTHERE! After deciding what and where to go and do first, we could hear the Iowa Marching Band's percussion section performing outside the southwest corner of the stadium. What a way to start the day!
By then it was only 9:30 am or so and game time was not until 11:am. We pulled out our card-board, "we need 2 tickets" signs and went to work. This is the part I love to do! Waking north along the parking lot on the west side of the stadium, and where the "choice tickets can be found," A gentleman approached us and indicated he had two tickets on the "50" yard line. He wanted face value of approx. $50.00 apiece or $100.00. I told him that I didn't even have that much with me, thanked him, and walked on.
Turning around and heading back south another fellow stopped us and said there was this guy looking for us. Before I could react, the same fellow as earlier came running up to Jenna and I and indicated we could have the two tickets on the "50" for just $40.00 TOTAL! I shook his hand and thanked him and I believe, I mentioned a couple more times, that it was Jenna"s first game. They were technically on the 45 yard line (darn) but in row sixteen. We could almost shake the players hands! *That gentleman was with the Hawkeye Weld and Repair of Iowa City. I will get in touch with him somehow to thank him again.
The trouble with this is Jenna will assume that these choice seats are the norm. After coming out of my stunned amazement, we took a stroll down Melrose Ave to check out all the food vendors. I picked a pork on a stick and Jenna had a beverage as we sat in front of Kinnick south of the main entrance while watching the fans arriving and prepared to go in the stadium around 10:am. Now the fun begins.
When we arrived at the gate entrance(gate E), we were informed that I could not take my umbrella in and Jenna's back pack was too big. We then had to go to the nearby Rec. building and "check" them in. When we finally made it to our seats (21 & 22) in row 16 of section 126 we were not disappointed to say the least.
At age 70 and as of this writing, I have never sat in closer 50 yard line seats. Even my season ticket seats of years ago were between the 35-40 yard line and about 20 rows up on the east side not on the "home" west side. It was like watching it on TV only better because we were there. THE place to be in the state of Iowa on that Saturday.
We were able to watch the team warm-up, with both bands performing before the game and at half-time. Northern Iowa's band was impressive with over 300 members but, Jenna still liked the Hawk Band better.
Then with the game ready to begin, came the build-up. In the south-west tunnel the Hawks were prepared to enter the stadium preceeded by Herky to get things started. With ACDC's "Back in Black" blaring for the build-up, out came the team led by coach Kirk Ferentz. Oh My!
One big mistake we/I made was leaving the sun-screen in the bag we checked in and not bringing my hat. When we left it was over-cast and appeared to remain for the day. Wrong! The sun then arrived on and off for remainer of the game and with my black T-shirtit was warm. No heat or sun would spoil this day.
Jenna had the binoculars I brought to her eyes most of the game despite our closeness to the action. I only prayed that the Hawks would win as I didn't want Jenna to experience her first big Hawk football game to end in a loss. She never doubted that the Hawks would fail her. They didn't!
One guy that sat ahead of us was Gary Fletcher and his wife. He used to be an announcer with Jim Zabel years ago for the Hawkeyes. One couple to our right had their seats for 47 years. Another older gentleman ahead of us had his seat since 1961 and was ready stop coming because he could not deal with the stairs any longer.
With the conclusion of the game and the Hawks victorious, we headed back to board the train and at Jenna's request we sat in the upper seats. Cool! It was a conclusion to a Thriller of a day! One I'll never forget!
written 8/31/2014 by Dennis M. Laverty
This day (August 30th, 2014) started actually the night before. Jenna Marie Thurm stayed the night with Ilah and I so we could get our journey to Iowa City started early for the big game against the Panthers of Cedar Falls, Iowa. This was to be Jenna's first trip to Iowa City to witness a Iowa Hawkeye football game at Kinnick Stadium. She was not to be disappointed. And, it would be such a pleasure to share the day with her.
The trip started around 8am leaving from Walnut Street, then with a stop, first, at the Williamsburg Grocery for a few yummy pastries. From there east on I-80 to Corralville to the parking lot near the the I-Hop resturant. We boarded the Hawkeye Express train and prepared to travel the ten minute ride to Kinnick Stadium. It does seem remarkable that the train can hold up to 1,200 passengers.
Once, arriving just south of the stadium, we walked up the wide wooden stairs and we wereTHERE! After deciding what and where to go and do first, we could hear the Iowa Marching Band's percussion section performing outside the southwest corner of the stadium. What a way to start the day!
By then it was only 9:30 am or so and game time was not until 11:am. We pulled out our card-board, "we need 2 tickets" signs and went to work. This is the part I love to do! Waking north along the parking lot on the west side of the stadium, and where the "choice tickets can be found," A gentleman approached us and indicated he had two tickets on the "50" yard line. He wanted face value of approx. $50.00 apiece or $100.00. I told him that I didn't even have that much with me, thanked him, and walked on.
Turning around and heading back south another fellow stopped us and said there was this guy looking for us. Before I could react, the same fellow as earlier came running up to Jenna and I and indicated we could have the two tickets on the "50" for just $40.00 TOTAL! I shook his hand and thanked him and I believe, I mentioned a couple more times, that it was Jenna"s first game. They were technically on the 45 yard line (darn) but in row sixteen. We could almost shake the players hands! *That gentleman was with the Hawkeye Weld and Repair of Iowa City. I will get in touch with him somehow to thank him again.
The trouble with this is Jenna will assume that these choice seats are the norm. After coming out of my stunned amazement, we took a stroll down Melrose Ave to check out all the food vendors. I picked a pork on a stick and Jenna had a beverage as we sat in front of Kinnick south of the main entrance while watching the fans arriving and prepared to go in the stadium around 10:am. Now the fun begins.
When we arrived at the gate entrance(gate E), we were informed that I could not take my umbrella in and Jenna's back pack was too big. We then had to go to the nearby Rec. building and "check" them in. When we finally made it to our seats (21 & 22) in row 16 of section 126 we were not disappointed to say the least.
At age 70 and as of this writing, I have never sat in closer 50 yard line seats. Even my season ticket seats of years ago were between the 35-40 yard line and about 20 rows up on the east side not on the "home" west side. It was like watching it on TV only better because we were there. THE place to be in the state of Iowa on that Saturday.
We were able to watch the team warm-up, with both bands performing before the game and at half-time. Northern Iowa's band was impressive with over 300 members but, Jenna still liked the Hawk Band better.
Then with the game ready to begin, came the build-up. In the south-west tunnel the Hawks were prepared to enter the stadium preceeded by Herky to get things started. With ACDC's "Back in Black" blaring for the build-up, out came the team led by coach Kirk Ferentz. Oh My!
One big mistake we/I made was leaving the sun-screen in the bag we checked in and not bringing my hat. When we left it was over-cast and appeared to remain for the day. Wrong! The sun then arrived on and off for remainer of the game and with my black T-shirtit was warm. No heat or sun would spoil this day.
Jenna had the binoculars I brought to her eyes most of the game despite our closeness to the action. I only prayed that the Hawks would win as I didn't want Jenna to experience her first big Hawk football game to end in a loss. She never doubted that the Hawks would fail her. They didn't!
One guy that sat ahead of us was Gary Fletcher and his wife. He used to be an announcer with Jim Zabel years ago for the Hawkeyes. One couple to our right had their seats for 47 years. Another older gentleman ahead of us had his seat since 1961 and was ready stop coming because he could not deal with the stairs any longer.
With the conclusion of the game and the Hawks victorious, we headed back to board the train and at Jenna's request we sat in the upper seats. Cool! It was a conclusion to a Thriller of a day! One I'll never forget!
written 8/31/2014 by Dennis M. Laverty
Saturday, August 30, 2014
Friday, August 29, 2014
COOKING FOR ONE-DIFFICULT?
It seems like I'm always hearing at the check-out counter in the Burg Grocery, "It's so hard to cook for one!" I've really never understood that statement entirely.
To me it's pretty simple. You just plan a meal of something you like, in my case REALLY like, and go from there. You just think small, buy small, and prepare small. If there is something left over, you pitch it, freeze it or god forbid save it as a left-over. I've always said that the refrigerator is a place you put food until you decide to dispose of it. Kind of a Purgatory!
Several years ago, I was living by myself and had no problem planning meals. Of course, I look at eating differently than most. To me, at the end of the day, the evening meal was something to look forward to as a reward and pleasure not just because I was hungry.
Sometimes, after work I would call my sister and would ask what she was having for supper. She would say something like a slice of left-over pizza. I always felt a little guilty, if I told her what I was having.
I never felt alone eating by my-self either. It was me and something that I really liked. Maybe, Mr. Pork Chop was my guest that evening. Even now, if my significant is gone for some evening, I simply prepare something that that she does not care for, but, that I do! Remember! It's all in your attitude.
To me it's pretty simple. You just plan a meal of something you like, in my case REALLY like, and go from there. You just think small, buy small, and prepare small. If there is something left over, you pitch it, freeze it or god forbid save it as a left-over. I've always said that the refrigerator is a place you put food until you decide to dispose of it. Kind of a Purgatory!
Several years ago, I was living by myself and had no problem planning meals. Of course, I look at eating differently than most. To me, at the end of the day, the evening meal was something to look forward to as a reward and pleasure not just because I was hungry.
Sometimes, after work I would call my sister and would ask what she was having for supper. She would say something like a slice of left-over pizza. I always felt a little guilty, if I told her what I was having.
I never felt alone eating by my-self either. It was me and something that I really liked. Maybe, Mr. Pork Chop was my guest that evening. Even now, if my significant is gone for some evening, I simply prepare something that that she does not care for, but, that I do! Remember! It's all in your attitude.
MY MOM-SPECIAL MOMENTS REMEMBERED
With Mother's Day approaching, I would like to post the following:
The following are a few special moments of or shared with my mother, snapshots if you will, that will always be cherished.
*---wiping the clothes line with a damp rag using her bare hand while hanging the wash out on a cold Iowa winter(Monday) morning.
*---presenting to me year after year at my birthday my favorite cake--chocolate with white frosting.
*---those gentle finger taps to the forehead in the morning to wake me. Even though it was irritating then, I'd give anything to have her wake me one more time.
*---helping her shell peas with the bowl on her lap (and squeezing out a few peas from the shell with your teeth.)
*---watching her spread the dough before making a homemade pizza on a Saturday night.
*-- -seeing her patiently and lovingly waiting at the front door when I arrived home after school off the bus.
*---seeing her sunburned left arm from having the window down while traveling due to no air-conditioning.
*---seeing her come in the front door and the look of sadness the morning my dad passed away.
*---listening to her read at times her favorite poems or passages with enthusiastic enunciation.
*---watching her shuffle and deal a hand of her favorite card game "Pepper" and quickly announcing her "bid."
*---sometimes at night watching her while sitting at the kitchen table playing a game of Solitaire.
*---reluctantly waking me from my sleep in the backseat of the car when arriving home at night and telling me it's time to go in the house and up to bed.
*---carrying a tray of eats, including hot dogs and marshmallows, for the roast over an open bon- fire after the fall "grove clean-up."
*---handing me a birthday present with the same "bow" and not catching on to her special tradition for years.
*---handing me a bowl of hot oatmeal or Cream of Wheat with a cup of cocoa before school at breakfast on a cold winter morning.
*---helping her bring in a basket of towels or sheets off the clothesline and smelling them, and, continuing to enjoy that fresh-air smell after a bath or when getting into bed at night.
*---on those snowed in days, the hours of enjoyment playing Chinese checkers with her.
*---at suppertime watching her fry, in an iron skillet, a hamburger, pork chop or steak in lard. Oh my!
*---watching her walk up from the Pike's Peak look-out on the Mississippi River amidst a beautiful autumn day.
*---visiting and talking on the phone quite frequently and telling her that "I loved her," even though it was difficult for her to say those words.
*---most importantly, being with her the night she passed away in April of 2003 and playing a few hands of her favorite card game-"Pepper."
written originally October 2008
The following are a few special moments of or shared with my mother, snapshots if you will, that will always be cherished.
*---wiping the clothes line with a damp rag using her bare hand while hanging the wash out on a cold Iowa winter(Monday) morning.
*---presenting to me year after year at my birthday my favorite cake--chocolate with white frosting.
*---those gentle finger taps to the forehead in the morning to wake me. Even though it was irritating then, I'd give anything to have her wake me one more time.
*---helping her shell peas with the bowl on her lap (and squeezing out a few peas from the shell with your teeth.)
*---watching her spread the dough before making a homemade pizza on a Saturday night.
*-- -seeing her patiently and lovingly waiting at the front door when I arrived home after school off the bus.
*---seeing her sunburned left arm from having the window down while traveling due to no air-conditioning.
*---seeing her come in the front door and the look of sadness the morning my dad passed away.
*---listening to her read at times her favorite poems or passages with enthusiastic enunciation.
*---watching her shuffle and deal a hand of her favorite card game "Pepper" and quickly announcing her "bid."
*---sometimes at night watching her while sitting at the kitchen table playing a game of Solitaire.
*---reluctantly waking me from my sleep in the backseat of the car when arriving home at night and telling me it's time to go in the house and up to bed.
*---carrying a tray of eats, including hot dogs and marshmallows, for the roast over an open bon- fire after the fall "grove clean-up."
*---handing me a birthday present with the same "bow" and not catching on to her special tradition for years.
*---handing me a bowl of hot oatmeal or Cream of Wheat with a cup of cocoa before school at breakfast on a cold winter morning.
*---helping her bring in a basket of towels or sheets off the clothesline and smelling them, and, continuing to enjoy that fresh-air smell after a bath or when getting into bed at night.
*---on those snowed in days, the hours of enjoyment playing Chinese checkers with her.
*---at suppertime watching her fry, in an iron skillet, a hamburger, pork chop or steak in lard. Oh my!
*---watching her walk up from the Pike's Peak look-out on the Mississippi River amidst a beautiful autumn day.
*---visiting and talking on the phone quite frequently and telling her that "I loved her," even though it was difficult for her to say those words.
*---most importantly, being with her the night she passed away in April of 2003 and playing a few hands of her favorite card game-"Pepper."
written originally October 2008
Thursday, August 28, 2014
FIRST DAY OF SCHOOL-WITH INCIDENT!
It was September of 1949 and the first day of school. This is it. All ready to go in my corduroy jacket, hemmed pants with a perfect pleat and held up with suspenders. It was topped off with a Hopalong Cassidy T-shirt. Don't forget the cowlick. No way you say, but, remember this was 1949.
O.K. here comes the bus.Wait. There goes the bus. No Dennis. He was escorted to school on the first day by his mom. I guess I wasn't ready. A real weenie. I had company though. Bob Baker and I sat there for quite awhile crying our eyes out.
It was a bad start on that path to higher learning. One last thing. I never did appreciate that sweet rag rug at nap time until many years later!
Tuesday, August 26, 2014
VACATION-BEFORE IT'S TOO LATE!
Years ago, while working at Allied Mutual Insurance Company, a fellow employee was about ready to retire. For months it was all he talked about. His wife was about the same age and she too worked at Allied. This gentleman could recite how many weeks, days, and almost to the minute when he would bale out.
He and his wife had picked out a lot at a nearby Lake development and were going to build their dream vacation home and live happily ever after. Oh! Did I mention that they never took a vacation only worked, worked, and worked.
His wife passed away before he retired and it was devastating to him. He eventually re-married and moved on, but, it taught me a valuable lesson in life. Smell those roses while going through life. Still see it going on today with several people I've known. Sad.
No matter where you go just get out of DODGE for awhile. I've always said living in Iowa, just GO even if it's to see some different corn fields. There are alot of neat things to see and do close to home. At least take a day trip somewhere or stay over-nite at a clean Ma and Pa motel that is in-expensive. They are out there believe me. Pack a lunch or a few goodies and/or seek out a great little home town cafe. Do a take-out and find a park and enjoy your meal along a lake shore.
We all have enough regrets through our life to let that be one of them!
He and his wife had picked out a lot at a nearby Lake development and were going to build their dream vacation home and live happily ever after. Oh! Did I mention that they never took a vacation only worked, worked, and worked.
His wife passed away before he retired and it was devastating to him. He eventually re-married and moved on, but, it taught me a valuable lesson in life. Smell those roses while going through life. Still see it going on today with several people I've known. Sad.
No matter where you go just get out of DODGE for awhile. I've always said living in Iowa, just GO even if it's to see some different corn fields. There are alot of neat things to see and do close to home. At least take a day trip somewhere or stay over-nite at a clean Ma and Pa motel that is in-expensive. They are out there believe me. Pack a lunch or a few goodies and/or seek out a great little home town cafe. Do a take-out and find a park and enjoy your meal along a lake shore.
We all have enough regrets through our life to let that be one of them!
NEVER BEEN THIRSTIER!
With all this hot and muggy weather this past few days of late summer, (8/25/2014), I'm reminded of that one last week of August when football practice began while in high-school.
It seemed it was always terribly hot just before Labor Day. School always started after the Holiday not in the middle of August as today. We always practiced with full pads and that didn't help matters either.
The one thing you looked forward to, like a panting dog, was for someone to bring out that metal carrier of six glass quart milk bottles full of cold water.(I'm sure you have seen these in an Antique store) Noticed I just said cold. It came right out of a faucet in the locker room which I cannot believe we actually changed clothes in. It was simply in the basement of the old grade school building and a long way down those concrete steps. Talk about dark and dingy.
But, needless to say, That was the best drink of water you could imagine. How we ever survived without some of these slick sports drinks of today, I'll never know. No! We didn't have a weight room either. We had what you would call lifting 50 lb. bales of hay!
It seemed it was always terribly hot just before Labor Day. School always started after the Holiday not in the middle of August as today. We always practiced with full pads and that didn't help matters either.
The one thing you looked forward to, like a panting dog, was for someone to bring out that metal carrier of six glass quart milk bottles full of cold water.(I'm sure you have seen these in an Antique store) Noticed I just said cold. It came right out of a faucet in the locker room which I cannot believe we actually changed clothes in. It was simply in the basement of the old grade school building and a long way down those concrete steps. Talk about dark and dingy.
But, needless to say, That was the best drink of water you could imagine. How we ever survived without some of these slick sports drinks of today, I'll never know. No! We didn't have a weight room either. We had what you would call lifting 50 lb. bales of hay!
LOVED THOSE PICNICS!
Since it's getting close to the end of summer, I thought I would share another one of my favorite summer memories as a youth. My mother belonged to an organization called the Federated Women's Club. Really don't know all they did or what their mission was, but, a couple of annual events that I recall witnessing or being involved in were the following. These memories go back to the 1950's. Yes! I know. That was a long time ago. So what!
One of their social events included the husbands. They would go to someone's home and play a card game of "500." It would be played as couples but, not with necessarily their own spouse. Through-out the evening, they would keep rotating around, keeping score until a winner(s) were determined. As I recall there was also a prize given for the worst score. What that was called escapes me. Booby prize maybe?
The most important event held annually, in my estimation, was the Picnic held at the Maytag Park in Newton, Iowa. It was looked to with much anticipation for us kids. The park was beautiful, rolling with lots of mature trees. As of this writing it still is beautiful. (2014)
It was a big deal. As people started to arrive picnic tables would be butted together and all the fantastic potluck food would be laid out. Wow! It was fun to just walk around and inspect all the great home-made food that was prepared. It didn't get any better than that when it came to eating. Nothing can compare to today. Fried chicken, potato salad, jello salads. pies and more pies. No deli stuff from a grocery store or card-board pizza. No sir!
Looking back, maybe we as kids didn't appreciate all that great food but, we didn't have Big Macs, Chicken McNuggets, or tacos to compare. Hind-sight says there was no comparison.
Then the long wait, after we ate, until we could go swimming in the pool. One hour. An eternity for a kid. The wait seemed longer than the actual swim time. A silly rule. Ah! Summer-time and the living was easy. Yes it was!
written originally in 2009
One of their social events included the husbands. They would go to someone's home and play a card game of "500." It would be played as couples but, not with necessarily their own spouse. Through-out the evening, they would keep rotating around, keeping score until a winner(s) were determined. As I recall there was also a prize given for the worst score. What that was called escapes me. Booby prize maybe?
The most important event held annually, in my estimation, was the Picnic held at the Maytag Park in Newton, Iowa. It was looked to with much anticipation for us kids. The park was beautiful, rolling with lots of mature trees. As of this writing it still is beautiful. (2014)
It was a big deal. As people started to arrive picnic tables would be butted together and all the fantastic potluck food would be laid out. Wow! It was fun to just walk around and inspect all the great home-made food that was prepared. It didn't get any better than that when it came to eating. Nothing can compare to today. Fried chicken, potato salad, jello salads. pies and more pies. No deli stuff from a grocery store or card-board pizza. No sir!
Looking back, maybe we as kids didn't appreciate all that great food but, we didn't have Big Macs, Chicken McNuggets, or tacos to compare. Hind-sight says there was no comparison.
Then the long wait, after we ate, until we could go swimming in the pool. One hour. An eternity for a kid. The wait seemed longer than the actual swim time. A silly rule. Ah! Summer-time and the living was easy. Yes it was!
written originally in 2009
Monday, August 25, 2014
DORIS THE KID DOES CAMP
The following is taken from a letter written to me from my sister, Doris Yvonne Laverty (Eddy) on July 20th, 1949 from Morris Island, on the Cedar River near Cedar Falls, Iowa. She would have been 13 or 14 years old and I would have been 5.
Dear Dennis,
The meals are pretty good now. The store is open 2 or 3 tmes a day. There isn't any limit on how much to buy. I spend about a dime a day on pop and candy. I got a bracelet to make out of plastic stuff. Like the one I made at day camp.
Tell mother I got her letter. I was going to make you something if you be a good boy. I also got a letter from Sammy. There isn't any telephone, lights, or water here, but, from a pump.
The girls took a course on nature. We hiked around half the island yesterday. We didn't go very far yesterday. They told us Indian Burial ground is where the camp-fire is.
The boy who takes us on hikes name is Dennis Mc Goren. He says "I'M" Irish too. He said this is the wildest place in Iowa. It has all kinds of bugs, snakes, and poisonous trees.
The nurse is nice. She put some merthiolate on a splinter I had. It was a thorn. She isn't as rough as Dr. Wilkonson. *(Laurel doctor at the time)
Yesterday our counselor volunteered us to peel potatoes for the camp. Today Dale, Tommy, and James' cabin had to peel potatoes because their cabin was the dirtiest. Monday night it was cold. Were you? I had all my blankets on. Last night it rained.
There is a fat kid up here who reminds us of Larry in 3 years.
Bye, Doris
Tell mother I got her letter. I was going to make you something if you be a good boy. I also got a letter from Sammy. There isn't any telephone, lights, or water here, but, from a pump.
The girls took a course on nature. We hiked around half the island yesterday. We didn't go very far yesterday. They told us Indian Burial ground is where the camp-fire is.
The boy who takes us on hikes name is Dennis Mc Goren. He says "I'M" Irish too. He said this is the wildest place in Iowa. It has all kinds of bugs, snakes, and poisonous trees.
The nurse is nice. She put some merthiolate on a splinter I had. It was a thorn. She isn't as rough as Dr. Wilkonson. *(Laurel doctor at the time)
Yesterday our counselor volunteered us to peel potatoes for the camp. Today Dale, Tommy, and James' cabin had to peel potatoes because their cabin was the dirtiest. Monday night it was cold. Were you? I had all my blankets on. Last night it rained.
There is a fat kid up here who reminds us of Larry in 3 years.
Bye, Doris
RICK PATTERSON-MY BEST FRIEND
They moved to Laurel from Newton, Iowa. Gossip had it that they must be a little strange and different because they, supposedly, belonged to a church in Newton called the Four Square Gospel.
It was my junior year, 1960, at Laurel and I'm not sure when I first met Rick or if I liked him right away. He was slight and all of 5'7." A small Buddy Holly with those black horned-rim glasses, tight wavy black hair-combed straight back. He spoke precise, but, yet was soft spoken. He never swore or talked badly about anyone. Don't get me wrong. He wasn't perfect. He smoked a little, but, a lot of us did in those days. Conclusion: he was cool, a maverick of sorts. I liked him. I liked his whole family. His dad started and ran his own Auto Body Shop in Laurel and his mother was a teacher and taught at Laurel for many years. They were just plain, likable, honest, and nice to be around kind of people.
He drove his dad's Rambler. A what? What kid would want to drive a Rambler you say! But, it would get out and move. A real sleeper. Enough said. He joined in by becoming the football team manager. Although, most of the guys in our class were good size farm boys, he wasn't. I'll say it again. He was just a cool guy!
In 1961, his family invited me to go along with them on a summer vacation back east. They primarily wanted to visit family in Pennsylvania and from there we traveled to Washington D.C., and up through New York City and back home.
I still have a black and white picture taken with my little Brownie 127 mm camera through the fence at 1600 Pennsylvania Ave. It was a perfectly cropped photo of the White House. I also still have the camera. John Kennedy was preident and may have actually been in there at the time. It was a great trip and one I'll always remember.
After high-school we drifted apart somewhat. He married his high school sweetheart, Sue Boyle. They lived in Shenandoah, Iowa and Rick worked for a local Radio/ T.V. station in advertising sales. I would visit them on occasion while traveling for General Mills.
He passed away far too young. I still think of him often. He will always be the kindest, honest, and most gentle man that I ever known.
It was my junior year, 1960, at Laurel and I'm not sure when I first met Rick or if I liked him right away. He was slight and all of 5'7." A small Buddy Holly with those black horned-rim glasses, tight wavy black hair-combed straight back. He spoke precise, but, yet was soft spoken. He never swore or talked badly about anyone. Don't get me wrong. He wasn't perfect. He smoked a little, but, a lot of us did in those days. Conclusion: he was cool, a maverick of sorts. I liked him. I liked his whole family. His dad started and ran his own Auto Body Shop in Laurel and his mother was a teacher and taught at Laurel for many years. They were just plain, likable, honest, and nice to be around kind of people.
He drove his dad's Rambler. A what? What kid would want to drive a Rambler you say! But, it would get out and move. A real sleeper. Enough said. He joined in by becoming the football team manager. Although, most of the guys in our class were good size farm boys, he wasn't. I'll say it again. He was just a cool guy!
In 1961, his family invited me to go along with them on a summer vacation back east. They primarily wanted to visit family in Pennsylvania and from there we traveled to Washington D.C., and up through New York City and back home.
I still have a black and white picture taken with my little Brownie 127 mm camera through the fence at 1600 Pennsylvania Ave. It was a perfectly cropped photo of the White House. I also still have the camera. John Kennedy was preident and may have actually been in there at the time. It was a great trip and one I'll always remember.
After high-school we drifted apart somewhat. He married his high school sweetheart, Sue Boyle. They lived in Shenandoah, Iowa and Rick worked for a local Radio/ T.V. station in advertising sales. I would visit them on occasion while traveling for General Mills.
He passed away far too young. I still think of him often. He will always be the kindest, honest, and most gentle man that I ever known.
THE MAIN EVENT -THE BIG RACE!
It's hard to comprehend today the event, and ones like it, held in Laurel, Iowa on September 24th, 1904. This year would be the 110th anniversary of that race. It was billed "The Big Field Day" and the main feature of the day was a footrace, a 100 yard dash, between two young men, Henry Smith, age 22, of Laurel, and Haarve Morgan, of Kellogg, for a purse of $30.00
Several interesting observations should be noted about this event. First, what was the Big Field Day? One could assume it was simply a celebration around harvest time and similar to our various fall festivals held still today. Septmber 24th, 1904, was on a Saturday. Many town events could not be held on a Sunday!
Second, to think that a main attraction, anywhere, would be watching two people engage in a 100 yard foot-race. And, the fact that it would attract hundreds of people all dressed up and probably in fairly hot weather. (With no air-conditioning and all those layers of clothing)
Third, the purse was $30.00. Again, for the time, that was a decent amount of money. My Grandpa Smith also had promoters, Ball & Blankey, which it isn't known their exact roll.
Fourth, the Laurel Centennial Book (1881-1981, book, page 63) mentions his rival being a John Donnelson, a farm-hand who was trained by a Bill McIllrath. Despite the discrepancies with different accounts of the name of the competitor, promoters, and the year held, one could assume there were several races during that period of time. Especially, when there were promoters, big purses, and the fact that Henry Smith had his own track shoes, and jersey or shirt which I possess as of this original writing (2008)and currently(2014). Also, I hold the original photograph of the race taken by a professional photographer at the time looking east on a Market Street off Highway 14.
Lastly. and unfortunately, my grandfather lost this race. (See Photoghraph). Of significance was his bride-to-be, Minnie Schultz, age 15, was there attending the race and I'm sure cheering Henry on!
Re-written 8/24/2014 (Picture of race will be posted 8/26/2014)
Several interesting observations should be noted about this event. First, what was the Big Field Day? One could assume it was simply a celebration around harvest time and similar to our various fall festivals held still today. Septmber 24th, 1904, was on a Saturday. Many town events could not be held on a Sunday!
Second, to think that a main attraction, anywhere, would be watching two people engage in a 100 yard foot-race. And, the fact that it would attract hundreds of people all dressed up and probably in fairly hot weather. (With no air-conditioning and all those layers of clothing)
Third, the purse was $30.00. Again, for the time, that was a decent amount of money. My Grandpa Smith also had promoters, Ball & Blankey, which it isn't known their exact roll.
Fourth, the Laurel Centennial Book (1881-1981, book, page 63) mentions his rival being a John Donnelson, a farm-hand who was trained by a Bill McIllrath. Despite the discrepancies with different accounts of the name of the competitor, promoters, and the year held, one could assume there were several races during that period of time. Especially, when there were promoters, big purses, and the fact that Henry Smith had his own track shoes, and jersey or shirt which I possess as of this original writing (2008)and currently(2014). Also, I hold the original photograph of the race taken by a professional photographer at the time looking east on a Market Street off Highway 14.
Lastly. and unfortunately, my grandfather lost this race. (See Photoghraph). Of significance was his bride-to-be, Minnie Schultz, age 15, was there attending the race and I'm sure cheering Henry on!
Re-written 8/24/2014 (Picture of race will be posted 8/26/2014)
 |
| Henry in black |
Sunday, August 24, 2014
MY FAVORITE COACH-TWISTING AN ARM!
Most kids reflecting back through their school days will come up with a teacher or two who had some influence or inspiration that meant something to them later in life. This wasn't exactly true with me. Not one teacher individually can I think of through grade or high school that lifted me to some "greater heights" in life. Looking back most all were good teachers, especially, my English teachers .Seems like, generally, they were good if you did well and, if you didn't do so hot then it was the teacher's fault.
My sister, Doris, actually was one person in high-school, while studying bookkeeping, who helped me see the light. I didn't get those debits and credits at all. To this day I don't know how or what she did to help explain "double entry" methodology, but she did. Praise the Lord! From that point on those little devils were as clear as a Canadian sky. I aced the class.Maybe I missed my calling. No! Being a "bean counter" didn't seem like the right path for me at the time.
There was also a high school Principlal, who during my Junior year, had the whole football team get together in the study hall before the big game with our rival, Baxter, and preceeded to use reverse psychology on us. To get us all pumped up for the big game, he let us know what a bunch of mamma's boys, losers and etc., that we were. I guess it worked because we went out and pulverized Baxter. I've used that quite a bit through -out my life-especially my kids.
During my sophomore year in high school, a new football coach was hired named Leighton Betz. A slight, thin, almost on the "wimpy side" kind of a guy but, never one to get very angry, if at all. He was fresh out of the University of Iowa and his back-ground was track, NOT football. But, he brought along plays or formations Iowa was using at the time.
Not wanting to waste any further time as a line-man as in my freshman, bench sitting year,(yes, freshman at our little school played in varsity sports.) I begged the coach for the chance to try out as a running back and kicker. My older cousin, Larry Laverty was a linenan, but, much bigger. They would of killed me as a line-man.
I was fairly fast as a runner and could kick a football a good distance. It worked out and the coach was not disappointed. It made my football career in high-school an absolute ball. There's a moral here too! Sometimes you have to step up and pat your own back. Generally, no one else will.
My sister, Doris, actually was one person in high-school, while studying bookkeeping, who helped me see the light. I didn't get those debits and credits at all. To this day I don't know how or what she did to help explain "double entry" methodology, but she did. Praise the Lord! From that point on those little devils were as clear as a Canadian sky. I aced the class.Maybe I missed my calling. No! Being a "bean counter" didn't seem like the right path for me at the time.
There was also a high school Principlal, who during my Junior year, had the whole football team get together in the study hall before the big game with our rival, Baxter, and preceeded to use reverse psychology on us. To get us all pumped up for the big game, he let us know what a bunch of mamma's boys, losers and etc., that we were. I guess it worked because we went out and pulverized Baxter. I've used that quite a bit through -out my life-especially my kids.
During my sophomore year in high school, a new football coach was hired named Leighton Betz. A slight, thin, almost on the "wimpy side" kind of a guy but, never one to get very angry, if at all. He was fresh out of the University of Iowa and his back-ground was track, NOT football. But, he brought along plays or formations Iowa was using at the time.
Not wanting to waste any further time as a line-man as in my freshman, bench sitting year,(yes, freshman at our little school played in varsity sports.) I begged the coach for the chance to try out as a running back and kicker. My older cousin, Larry Laverty was a linenan, but, much bigger. They would of killed me as a line-man.
I was fairly fast as a runner and could kick a football a good distance. It worked out and the coach was not disappointed. It made my football career in high-school an absolute ball. There's a moral here too! Sometimes you have to step up and pat your own back. Generally, no one else will.
BRANDON'S JOKE OF THE DAY
What do you get when you dig out the center of a hot dog on the last part on October? A HOLLOW-WEEN-NER!
Saturday, August 23, 2014
YOU AIN'T SEEN NOTHING YET!
It was the 4th of July in 2004. We had just arrived home from an over-nite trip up to the Sioux City area where Ilah, my significant, grew up. On arriving home, we went back to the deck because a huge storm had been brewing and we had been keeping an eye on it as we drove back from our trip to home at 3308 Lily Lane im Marshalltown. The neighbors on both sides of us were out with their children lighting firecrackers and sparklers. Typical 4th of July.
IT actually came right over our house. Straight from the north, flowing due south. It was HUGE. Just one big cloud. All by itself and shaped like ah- well, shaped like a huge blimp! Yes. A blimp! A really big blimp. One thing was different about this blimp-cloud.It was as if someone had taken a pair of scissors and cut the back end of it off, exposing the inside. Here comes the part that made this phenomenon something you would never see again in your lifetime. Several lifetimes!
Inside this cut-open cloud was just static electricity. Not big bolts, as in normal, run-of-the-mill lightening, but, lots and lots of little continuously-shooting zipsand zaps of light. Zzzzt, zzzzt, zzzzt. It was unbelievable. Like something out of a sci-fi movie.
The neighbors on both sides of us didn't even bother looking up where the real show was taking place. Nature's "Really Big" light show. No fireworks show could beat this! And, just like a driven blimp, it slowly moved on south to who knows where-maybe Newton! Who knows.
The next day or two I only talked to a couple of people who witnessed this traveling light show-two older dudes like me. Maybe you have to be closer to going out than coming in to appreciate some of nature's best!
IT actually came right over our house. Straight from the north, flowing due south. It was HUGE. Just one big cloud. All by itself and shaped like ah- well, shaped like a huge blimp! Yes. A blimp! A really big blimp. One thing was different about this blimp-cloud.It was as if someone had taken a pair of scissors and cut the back end of it off, exposing the inside. Here comes the part that made this phenomenon something you would never see again in your lifetime. Several lifetimes!
Inside this cut-open cloud was just static electricity. Not big bolts, as in normal, run-of-the-mill lightening, but, lots and lots of little continuously-shooting zipsand zaps of light. Zzzzt, zzzzt, zzzzt. It was unbelievable. Like something out of a sci-fi movie.
The neighbors on both sides of us didn't even bother looking up where the real show was taking place. Nature's "Really Big" light show. No fireworks show could beat this! And, just like a driven blimp, it slowly moved on south to who knows where-maybe Newton! Who knows.
The next day or two I only talked to a couple of people who witnessed this traveling light show-two older dudes like me. Maybe you have to be closer to going out than coming in to appreciate some of nature's best!
LIKE YOU KNOW MAN!
Somehow the conversation started with the word "Like."
A lady, while assisting her out at the Burg Grocery, asked if I noticed how many times "young folks" used the word LIKE. She was watching a young man being interviewed on T.V. and used the word 17 times. (Can't believe she kept track.)
I agreed, then mentioned about the word "opportunity." At an awards ceremony, someone is always thanking someone else for the great "opportunity" given them blah-blah-blah. Before that we must have used the phrase "given the chance."
Then the lady brought up about someone being interviewed and is asked a certain question and replies; "That's a very good question." Just a way to buy time to come up with an answer I guess!
Then, I had to bring up my personal favorite from FOX NEWS.
They are always saying. "Fair and Balanced." Don't you assume it should be anyway? I know. Some of you believe the "Main Stream Media" doesn't do that. I still find it funny!
This lady thanked me for the "in-depth" conversation and we agreed to do it again on her next visit.
A lady, while assisting her out at the Burg Grocery, asked if I noticed how many times "young folks" used the word LIKE. She was watching a young man being interviewed on T.V. and used the word 17 times. (Can't believe she kept track.)
I agreed, then mentioned about the word "opportunity." At an awards ceremony, someone is always thanking someone else for the great "opportunity" given them blah-blah-blah. Before that we must have used the phrase "given the chance."
Then the lady brought up about someone being interviewed and is asked a certain question and replies; "That's a very good question." Just a way to buy time to come up with an answer I guess!
Then, I had to bring up my personal favorite from FOX NEWS.
They are always saying. "Fair and Balanced." Don't you assume it should be anyway? I know. Some of you believe the "Main Stream Media" doesn't do that. I still find it funny!
This lady thanked me for the "in-depth" conversation and we agreed to do it again on her next visit.
Friday, August 22, 2014
HAS THIS HAPPENED TO YOU?
The other day, a lady at the Burg Grocery, had trouble remembering her PIN number after swiping her debit card. She struggled a bit then PRESTO! This, I'm sure, has happened to us all at one time or another.
Helping her out with her groceries, I mentioned that when someone asks for the last 4 digis of my Social Security number, I have to think through my entire number before spitting out the last four numbers.
Also, when asked about my phone number, and if on occasion go blank, if I write it down I'm OK, same goes for my bank account number. Where I bank now the number is so long that I don't even try to memorize it.
In addition, they tell you for security purposes not to have the same security numbers for everthing. By the time with multiple accounts that we have for computer stuff, it becomes a nightmare to log or remember it all. After all, who can keep straight which account you have that you must log in your pet's name, best man at your wedding, favorite teacher, or your mother's maiden name. Then is it www.OHMYACHING.com. or something else and whether it's your user ID name or Email address.
I rest my case!
Helping her out with her groceries, I mentioned that when someone asks for the last 4 digis of my Social Security number, I have to think through my entire number before spitting out the last four numbers.
Also, when asked about my phone number, and if on occasion go blank, if I write it down I'm OK, same goes for my bank account number. Where I bank now the number is so long that I don't even try to memorize it.
In addition, they tell you for security purposes not to have the same security numbers for everthing. By the time with multiple accounts that we have for computer stuff, it becomes a nightmare to log or remember it all. After all, who can keep straight which account you have that you must log in your pet's name, best man at your wedding, favorite teacher, or your mother's maiden name. Then is it www.OHMYACHING.com. or something else and whether it's your user ID name or Email address.
I rest my case!
WHAT A TOMATO!!
This past Tuesday, 8/19/2014, My good life long friend and class-mate, Jerry Roberts, and I attended an I-Cubs baseball game at Sec Taylor Stadium in Des Moines. It was a beauiful day for a baseball game, sunny, on the warm side, a typical Iowa summer day. We normally try to get in a couple of games a season as we both enjoy baseball and the admission price is extremely reasonable for this level of baseball. (Triple A) Our seats were in the shade with a gentle breeze and right on the first base side. Couldn't get better!
Despite the I-Cubs losing, the game was full of action and we witnessed, Manny Rameriz hit a one on home-run.( Manny was a major player for the Boston Red Socks for many years. Des Moines should consider itself very fortunate to have such a beautiful facility and from most seats a fantastic view of the city, especially the State Capitol building.
When we left the game and arrived back to Jerry's home in Urbandale, he graciously gave me a couple of tomatoes from his garden. When I got home the following evening I had one with my two ears of sweet corn. It doesn't get any better than this.
Slicing this tomato and getting ready to savour and enjoy, you would think I had just opened a bottle of expensive wine and I was this connoisseur ready to take in the aroma or bouquet of a rare French wine. I slowly tapped a little sugar on the first slice and enjoyed. What a delight. This what a tomato should taste like.
Why can't "they" produce a tomato commercially with a rich anf juicy taste of this home grown tomato. Why I ask? Then it dawns on me that only possibly my generation cares about the taste. After all, who really these days sits and eats a sliced tomato either just plain or with a little salt or like myself with a little sugar.
Most people today are using them to make salsa, pizza sause, taco sause or using a slice for a BLT. Well, I will always keep searching and enjoying that "perfect tomato." Maybe I just need to get off my duff and raise my own!
Despite the I-Cubs losing, the game was full of action and we witnessed, Manny Rameriz hit a one on home-run.( Manny was a major player for the Boston Red Socks for many years. Des Moines should consider itself very fortunate to have such a beautiful facility and from most seats a fantastic view of the city, especially the State Capitol building.
When we left the game and arrived back to Jerry's home in Urbandale, he graciously gave me a couple of tomatoes from his garden. When I got home the following evening I had one with my two ears of sweet corn. It doesn't get any better than this.
Slicing this tomato and getting ready to savour and enjoy, you would think I had just opened a bottle of expensive wine and I was this connoisseur ready to take in the aroma or bouquet of a rare French wine. I slowly tapped a little sugar on the first slice and enjoyed. What a delight. This what a tomato should taste like.
Why can't "they" produce a tomato commercially with a rich anf juicy taste of this home grown tomato. Why I ask? Then it dawns on me that only possibly my generation cares about the taste. After all, who really these days sits and eats a sliced tomato either just plain or with a little salt or like myself with a little sugar.
Most people today are using them to make salsa, pizza sause, taco sause or using a slice for a BLT. Well, I will always keep searching and enjoying that "perfect tomato." Maybe I just need to get off my duff and raise my own!
Thursday, August 21, 2014
DORIS MAY SMITH-EARLY YEARS(1913-1931)
She was born on September 3rd, 1913 at approx. 6am at 5 lbs. 3 oz. and was the oldest of identical twin daughters. The youngest, Dorothy Fay, was born immediately there-after and died of pnemonia on April 8th, 1914. (As a foot-note Doris May died on April 8th, 2003 in her home in Melbourne, Iowa prior to mid-night. But, by the time an ambulance was summoned and she was taken to the hospital in Marshalltown and then declared deceased, the official date of death was stated as April 9th, 2003)
The parents were Henry and Minnie Smith and the twins were born on the David Smith farm(her grandfather) one mile east and three miles north of Laurel, Iowa. The twins were deliverd by Dr. Cowgil who came by horse-back and the mid-wife was Emma Fenders. The temperature that day reached 103 degrees.
She first attended school in Ferguson, Iowa and then when her parents moved to Laurel in March of 1921 attended Laurel Consolidated School from at least the time the original school was built in 1922. She graduated from Laurel in 1931, but, did attend 8th grade at Grinnell, Iowa.
When the family moved to Laurel in 1921, her dad operated a resturant and pool hall for most of the time they lived in Laurel. He also delivered monies from the bank in Laurel to a bank in Marshalltown and made the 12 mile journey in a horse and buggy armed wth revolver.(As the story has been told by May)
The family moved to Grinnell in 1926 while the oldest son, Vernon, attended Grinnell College for one year and returned in 1927. Henry remained in Laurel to maintain his business and visited the rest of the family,( mother Minnie, oldest daughter Vivian, and youngest brother Arnold) on occasion by train.
Her school activities included the likes of History and English which she excelled, also, Geometry and Agriculture.(from 10th grade report card) She never missed a day while in high school nor did the other three children. Remarkable!
She was involved in Declamatory(speech) events, school plays, musical groups and basketball. On one clipping from high-school, she had scored 29 points against nearby Melbourne. At that time girls played a "Three Court Style" of basketball. It was changed in 1938 to six on six style and later in the 1970's to men's style played on a full court. *One story told by Doris May was while traveling to a tournament in Centerville, Iowa by train, it had hit an automobile and a person was killed. * Another story goes that someone from the opposing team had spiked their teams beverages as to make them a little groggy.
It should also be noted in her senior year she was elected secretary of the class officers. She graduated then in May of 1931.
*On December 1st, 1932 she was married to William John Laverty in Rock Island, Illinois..... to be continued.
**Story contribution by Doris Yvonne Laverty (Eddy).
The parents were Henry and Minnie Smith and the twins were born on the David Smith farm(her grandfather) one mile east and three miles north of Laurel, Iowa. The twins were deliverd by Dr. Cowgil who came by horse-back and the mid-wife was Emma Fenders. The temperature that day reached 103 degrees.
She first attended school in Ferguson, Iowa and then when her parents moved to Laurel in March of 1921 attended Laurel Consolidated School from at least the time the original school was built in 1922. She graduated from Laurel in 1931, but, did attend 8th grade at Grinnell, Iowa.
When the family moved to Laurel in 1921, her dad operated a resturant and pool hall for most of the time they lived in Laurel. He also delivered monies from the bank in Laurel to a bank in Marshalltown and made the 12 mile journey in a horse and buggy armed wth revolver.(As the story has been told by May)
The family moved to Grinnell in 1926 while the oldest son, Vernon, attended Grinnell College for one year and returned in 1927. Henry remained in Laurel to maintain his business and visited the rest of the family,( mother Minnie, oldest daughter Vivian, and youngest brother Arnold) on occasion by train.
Her school activities included the likes of History and English which she excelled, also, Geometry and Agriculture.(from 10th grade report card) She never missed a day while in high school nor did the other three children. Remarkable!
She was involved in Declamatory(speech) events, school plays, musical groups and basketball. On one clipping from high-school, she had scored 29 points against nearby Melbourne. At that time girls played a "Three Court Style" of basketball. It was changed in 1938 to six on six style and later in the 1970's to men's style played on a full court. *One story told by Doris May was while traveling to a tournament in Centerville, Iowa by train, it had hit an automobile and a person was killed. * Another story goes that someone from the opposing team had spiked their teams beverages as to make them a little groggy.
It should also be noted in her senior year she was elected secretary of the class officers. She graduated then in May of 1931.
*On December 1st, 1932 she was married to William John Laverty in Rock Island, Illinois..... to be continued.
**Story contribution by Doris Yvonne Laverty (Eddy).
IF YOU WEAR BLACK -CAN'T GO BACK
It's getting close to opening week-end for college football. A good reminder for you fans to dress according to weather conditions. Early games always come to mind when hot days are still the norm. When attending the early Hawkeye games, it amazes me how many loyal fans wear lots of Black along with the Gold on a late August or early Setember game. Especially if they are sitting on the east or north sides of the stadium right into the sun. At least the blue-bloods on the west side get the luxury of some shade with the now gigantic press box. Just dress smart.
Years ago, I took my oldest grandson to his first Hawkeye game in Iowa City. We left from Marshalltown in the morning and it was cool, over-cast, and drizzling. He wore this really snazzy, ALL BLACK, slick, athletic looking outfit and was pumped for the big day with Grandpa.
We stopped uptown, Marshalltown, for an early pastry at a local bakery, later a quick breakfast at a eatery along highway 6 in Amana. On to the game and a Hawkeye victory. At half-time the sun came out in full force. All of a sudden I heard; "Grandpa I'm burning up." Good thing he was young and looked good when he took his top off and watched the remainder of the game topless! Grandpa should have brought that white T-shirt along.
Years ago, I took my oldest grandson to his first Hawkeye game in Iowa City. We left from Marshalltown in the morning and it was cool, over-cast, and drizzling. He wore this really snazzy, ALL BLACK, slick, athletic looking outfit and was pumped for the big day with Grandpa.
We stopped uptown, Marshalltown, for an early pastry at a local bakery, later a quick breakfast at a eatery along highway 6 in Amana. On to the game and a Hawkeye victory. At half-time the sun came out in full force. All of a sudden I heard; "Grandpa I'm burning up." Good thing he was young and looked good when he took his top off and watched the remainder of the game topless! Grandpa should have brought that white T-shirt along.
Wednesday, August 20, 2014
KOOSER's MEMOIR-WRITING TIPS
Ted Kooser a native of Ames Iowa, Iowa State University graduate and descendent of the Moser family of Osterdock, Iowa(south of Guttenberg) is the former U.S. poet laureate and Presidential Professor of the University of Nebraska. He is the author of many books of poetry and encourages people to write about their families and has taught memoir-writing workshops.
His mother was dying in 1997 and he felt an urgency to write about his family of his youth. His mother read it before she died and was pleased. Over the years he has published pieces of that work in journals and poems.
All of this was taken from an article by Mike Kilen in the Des Moines Register a few years ago, Kooser believes "that writing about family can give them a bit of immortality. It was a way for me to take a very ordinary people and elevate them into the light." "I have written a lot of poetry about family members.When someone comes upon a poem about my mother, they come into the light."
"Suddenly a person is 70 years old. All this happened and it happened quickly. What do you do with those memories?" "Every day I pick up the paper and look at the obits, like many my age I look at the phographs." "For every one of those faces, there are a million memories taken out of this world. So I am all for putting them down. I hope it inspires people to write about their own families."
KOOSER'S MEMOIR-WRITING TIPS:
*Don't think about writing a book. That's too daunting. Write scenes from memory, little vignettes, that can eventually be assembled into a book.
*Read other memoirs because you learn much from how other people handle it.
* Be economical with words. Why spend 160 pages writing what 60 pages will do?
____________________________________________________
I have tried to follow this advice in my own writing of short stories. Another way of saying it in my classes is by asking the question. HOW DO YOU EAT AN ELEPHANT? One bite at a time!
Good writing to all!
His mother was dying in 1997 and he felt an urgency to write about his family of his youth. His mother read it before she died and was pleased. Over the years he has published pieces of that work in journals and poems.
All of this was taken from an article by Mike Kilen in the Des Moines Register a few years ago, Kooser believes "that writing about family can give them a bit of immortality. It was a way for me to take a very ordinary people and elevate them into the light." "I have written a lot of poetry about family members.When someone comes upon a poem about my mother, they come into the light."
"Suddenly a person is 70 years old. All this happened and it happened quickly. What do you do with those memories?" "Every day I pick up the paper and look at the obits, like many my age I look at the phographs." "For every one of those faces, there are a million memories taken out of this world. So I am all for putting them down. I hope it inspires people to write about their own families."
KOOSER'S MEMOIR-WRITING TIPS:
*Don't think about writing a book. That's too daunting. Write scenes from memory, little vignettes, that can eventually be assembled into a book.
*Read other memoirs because you learn much from how other people handle it.
* Be economical with words. Why spend 160 pages writing what 60 pages will do?
____________________________________________________
I have tried to follow this advice in my own writing of short stories. Another way of saying it in my classes is by asking the question. HOW DO YOU EAT AN ELEPHANT? One bite at a time!
Good writing to all!
BALING HAY AND A LITTLE LEMONADE!
One of the big jobs in the summer, when I was a kid, was baling hay. Before I get to the good part of this story, let me explain a little about baling hay.
When the alfalfa or clover was ready, it was cut with a sickle pulled behind a tractor. Once the hay dried, it was raked into rows resembling long curls or "wind" rows to let it dry further.
In a day or two, a baler was pulled behind a tractor along with a hay rack. The rectangular shaped bales were then formed by the baler with twine to hold the hay shape together. It was pushed back and upward to someone standing on the hay rack and then would stack the bales-usually 40-70 pounds each.
When the hay rack was stacked full, it was taken to the barn to be stored. Most barns had a big door up high at front. With the hayrack pulled up in front of the barn, huge forks were used to hold maybe eight bales together. They were then lifted with a pulley operated by a tractor. Once the hay reached the top and to the open door, it followed a track toward the rear of the barn.
Once it reached a certain location, someone up in the hay mound would "yell out" to drop the bundle. A guy outside and down below would "trip the load" of the forks holding the hay and down the hay would come.
NOW THE STORY GETS INTERESTING! On this particular day, I was the guy up in the hay mound doing the stacking. This was quite an operation if you counted the men out in the field doing the actual baling and then the crew putting the hay into the barn.
It was in the late 1950's and I was in my teens. It was a very hot day and really warm up in that barn with no cool breeze up there. No sir! Plus, it was really hard work for 75 cents an hour.
At some point, I looked down at my arms and realized I was not sweating. Dry to the touch as was my forehead. One minute sweating like "pig" and the next dry and clammy. I knew I had dehydrated. Time to get out! What can I tell you. The rest of the afternoon it was cold lemonade for this guy.
**As a footnote to this story, I used to do a little work for a neighbor named Art DeWitt, who lived just north of us. I will never forget baling hay for him one day.
His wife, Beverly, made lunch and I've always said was the best cook in five counties bar none! That day we had fried chicken, mashed potatoes, and gravy,veggies, complete with pie. We would rest under a shade tree for a while and go back to work. We would then enjoy a sandwich and a little lemonade around four o'clock or so. Then, we go home later and have supper! That's how you stayed slim and trim!
This story was also published in the IOWA BARN FOUNDATION Magazine in the spring of 2009. under Vignettes from Rural Iowa.
When the alfalfa or clover was ready, it was cut with a sickle pulled behind a tractor. Once the hay dried, it was raked into rows resembling long curls or "wind" rows to let it dry further.
In a day or two, a baler was pulled behind a tractor along with a hay rack. The rectangular shaped bales were then formed by the baler with twine to hold the hay shape together. It was pushed back and upward to someone standing on the hay rack and then would stack the bales-usually 40-70 pounds each.
When the hay rack was stacked full, it was taken to the barn to be stored. Most barns had a big door up high at front. With the hayrack pulled up in front of the barn, huge forks were used to hold maybe eight bales together. They were then lifted with a pulley operated by a tractor. Once the hay reached the top and to the open door, it followed a track toward the rear of the barn.
Once it reached a certain location, someone up in the hay mound would "yell out" to drop the bundle. A guy outside and down below would "trip the load" of the forks holding the hay and down the hay would come.
NOW THE STORY GETS INTERESTING! On this particular day, I was the guy up in the hay mound doing the stacking. This was quite an operation if you counted the men out in the field doing the actual baling and then the crew putting the hay into the barn.
It was in the late 1950's and I was in my teens. It was a very hot day and really warm up in that barn with no cool breeze up there. No sir! Plus, it was really hard work for 75 cents an hour.
At some point, I looked down at my arms and realized I was not sweating. Dry to the touch as was my forehead. One minute sweating like "pig" and the next dry and clammy. I knew I had dehydrated. Time to get out! What can I tell you. The rest of the afternoon it was cold lemonade for this guy.
**As a footnote to this story, I used to do a little work for a neighbor named Art DeWitt, who lived just north of us. I will never forget baling hay for him one day.
His wife, Beverly, made lunch and I've always said was the best cook in five counties bar none! That day we had fried chicken, mashed potatoes, and gravy,veggies, complete with pie. We would rest under a shade tree for a while and go back to work. We would then enjoy a sandwich and a little lemonade around four o'clock or so. Then, we go home later and have supper! That's how you stayed slim and trim!
This story was also published in the IOWA BARN FOUNDATION Magazine in the spring of 2009. under Vignettes from Rural Iowa.
Tuesday, August 19, 2014
CHICAGO CUBS/ FIRST NIGHT GAME!
It was August 8th, 1988. It was to be the first night "lighted" baseball game at Wrigley Field in Chicago. It was a big deal. Wrigley was the last major league baseball park not to have lights. All their games were played in the afternoon. The diehards didn't want it. What about tradition and the neighborhood? Television and big money won out.
John McCartan, my sales manager at 1st Realty, 801 Grand, West Desmoines office, invited me to go with him, his two sons and brother-in-law to the game. However, he got tickets to the SECOND night game because the first game was sold out with dignitaries and all. It was OK by me, as I was happy to just have been invited.
We went and stayed at a hotel right off Michigan Avenue and the "Magnificant Mile." What a treat! And here came the kicker. The first night's game was rained out. Therefore we went to the first nigh game on August 9th. What a stroke of good luck.
They played the New York Mets, I believe and won the game 6-4. The following day, on a Sunday, we stayed foe a second game and it had a three hour rain delay.
One important thing happened for me that week-end. I became a Wrigley field fan for sure. It was what a major league baseball park is supposed to be and look like. Years later, I took my grandsons, Grant and Christian, to a game. If I don't first maybe they will write about their experience at Wrigley.
John McCartan, my sales manager at 1st Realty, 801 Grand, West Desmoines office, invited me to go with him, his two sons and brother-in-law to the game. However, he got tickets to the SECOND night game because the first game was sold out with dignitaries and all. It was OK by me, as I was happy to just have been invited.
We went and stayed at a hotel right off Michigan Avenue and the "Magnificant Mile." What a treat! And here came the kicker. The first night's game was rained out. Therefore we went to the first nigh game on August 9th. What a stroke of good luck.
They played the New York Mets, I believe and won the game 6-4. The following day, on a Sunday, we stayed foe a second game and it had a three hour rain delay.
One important thing happened for me that week-end. I became a Wrigley field fan for sure. It was what a major league baseball park is supposed to be and look like. Years later, I took my grandsons, Grant and Christian, to a game. If I don't first maybe they will write about their experience at Wrigley.
Monday, August 18, 2014
DORIS EDDY UP CLOSE WITH ELVIS/ KING OF R&R
It was June 20th of 1974 and Elvis Presley was coming to Vet's Auditorium in Des Moines, Iowa for a one night stand. I was working at Allied Mutual Insurance Company at the time right across the street south from Vets. In those days all you had to do was walk in and order a ticket with cash or a check. You could call in for an order but, there was no online buying or Ticket Master.
In this case, I had ordered two tickets ahead of time but, I didn't jump in early because I wasn't sure about going as at the time I was divorced and dateless. When the tickets arrived they were up in the nose-bleed section but, at least I was in the building.
Tracy Miiller, a high-school class-mate and friend, was going to be in town at the last minute and became my "date." The concert was on a Saturday and my sister, Doris, called me to see if I could get her tickets as she was a huge Elvis fan. Are you kidding me. It was sold out! I'll never know why she didn't jump on tickets a lot earlier. But, I told not to worry as if I couldn't locate any she could have mine as I had seen him in Vegas some time ago. Another story. Besides I should have been more thoughtful and called her when it was first announced.
Only one person I knew could pull off getting those tickets at the eleventh hour. It was Dave Hamilton, a friend, from Grinnell, Iowa. Dave had ecome a good friend from my days at Allied Mutual. He was an Agent and I was his Underwriter. One of the most interesting and influential men I've ever known in my life. Again, another story for another day. I picked up the phone and called Dave. Believe me, simply scalping the tickets would not have been this interesting.
He in turn called Ed Campbell who then was the State Democratic Chairman and also worked for Senator Culver from eastern Iowa. Ed called me later and indicated that he could NOT get tickets and was sorry. I didn't feel too bad as I I was willing to give my tickets to my sister. She was going to see the King.
Later that Friday afternoon Dave Hamilton called me to see if Ed had come through. I indicated that he had not but, it was OK. He told me to stay in my office and to not leave until he called me back. A short time later I had a call from Ed Campbell and said THE tickets could be picked up at will-call. Those two tickets were in the SIXTH row and my sister couldn't have been happier. Not sure if my brother-in-law, Clyde, enjoyed it as much but---.
Tracy and I enjoyed the King from the steep balcony a ways back. Best thing I've ever done for my big sister. Talk about better to give than to-- It also opened my eyes about Dave and what he could do behind the scenes. If I ever needed tickets to a soccer game in Brazil there would be only one man to call!
In this case, I had ordered two tickets ahead of time but, I didn't jump in early because I wasn't sure about going as at the time I was divorced and dateless. When the tickets arrived they were up in the nose-bleed section but, at least I was in the building.
Tracy Miiller, a high-school class-mate and friend, was going to be in town at the last minute and became my "date." The concert was on a Saturday and my sister, Doris, called me to see if I could get her tickets as she was a huge Elvis fan. Are you kidding me. It was sold out! I'll never know why she didn't jump on tickets a lot earlier. But, I told not to worry as if I couldn't locate any she could have mine as I had seen him in Vegas some time ago. Another story. Besides I should have been more thoughtful and called her when it was first announced.
Only one person I knew could pull off getting those tickets at the eleventh hour. It was Dave Hamilton, a friend, from Grinnell, Iowa. Dave had ecome a good friend from my days at Allied Mutual. He was an Agent and I was his Underwriter. One of the most interesting and influential men I've ever known in my life. Again, another story for another day. I picked up the phone and called Dave. Believe me, simply scalping the tickets would not have been this interesting.
He in turn called Ed Campbell who then was the State Democratic Chairman and also worked for Senator Culver from eastern Iowa. Ed called me later and indicated that he could NOT get tickets and was sorry. I didn't feel too bad as I I was willing to give my tickets to my sister. She was going to see the King.
Later that Friday afternoon Dave Hamilton called me to see if Ed had come through. I indicated that he had not but, it was OK. He told me to stay in my office and to not leave until he called me back. A short time later I had a call from Ed Campbell and said THE tickets could be picked up at will-call. Those two tickets were in the SIXTH row and my sister couldn't have been happier. Not sure if my brother-in-law, Clyde, enjoyed it as much but---.
Tracy and I enjoyed the King from the steep balcony a ways back. Best thing I've ever done for my big sister. Talk about better to give than to-- It also opened my eyes about Dave and what he could do behind the scenes. If I ever needed tickets to a soccer game in Brazil there would be only one man to call!
Sunday, August 17, 2014
GUILY OF INSIDER TRADING-SORT OF!
Everybody by now knows about the price of beef. Around the Burg you would think Gold just hit $10,000 an ounce. Expensive steaks have not been moving real well. Having the luxury of working at the Burg grocery, I keep an eye on different items that go on sale, coupons and so on. The other day I had an in- store coupon for a free pound of bananas. I bought 3 small ones and had to only pay a penny. The clerk kicked in the extra from the penny bowl next to the register. Such a deal!
A few of the Porterhouse steaks that didn't sell at over $10 a pound were reduced again and was aware when they were being reduced one more time. Timing as they say is everything. I went in this AM and scooped up two of those babies for $4 a pound. So they were aging a little. So am I. My step- dad once, after I pointed out some doubtful looking cheese in their refrigerator, "hey you know how penicillan is made."
Sometimes, it's nice to catch the market at it's LOW. Eating it will be my HIGH!
A few of the Porterhouse steaks that didn't sell at over $10 a pound were reduced again and was aware when they were being reduced one more time. Timing as they say is everything. I went in this AM and scooped up two of those babies for $4 a pound. So they were aging a little. So am I. My step- dad once, after I pointed out some doubtful looking cheese in their refrigerator, "hey you know how penicillan is made."
Sometimes, it's nice to catch the market at it's LOW. Eating it will be my HIGH!
FALLING OFF THE BARN-ALMOST!
Never, ever would I wish that I had grown up somewhere else but the farm where I was raised. Some might say it would have been too isolated, but, to me it was more of a peaceful and innocent experience during the time I was growing up in the 1950's. No busy highways, no railroads, airplanes, or pollution.
There were places where I could think my thoughts in peace and solitude. I could walk the soft dirt lane west of our corn-crib. And, especially the feel running through my toes of the gentle and clean "mud" after a summer rain. I could climb up the elevator attached to the corn-crib and sit and look at nothing but open and beautiful sky for as far as you could see.
The same could be said for climbing up to the peak of the barn. I could reach it by crawling up on the wooden cattle loader parked on the east side of the barn. Then I would scoot up to the peak and straddle it like a saddle.
The shingles on the roof were wooden slats with an occasional nail sticking out here and there. You had to be careful of those nails especially coming down and a clump of moss also in the mix didn't make it any easier. The wrong move could spell disaster. Yes! You guessed it.
On one occasion, a nail bit me and down I went head first mind you, Just like I was sleding down a hill in the winter. Somebody up there was watching out for me that day, however. Just before I was ready to fall head first over the edge, another nail caught my pant leg of my jeans and in turn saved the day. You've heard the expression "saved by the bell" make that "saved by the "nail."
Who knows how that ten foot drop to the ground might have turned out? Living on the farm could be and most generally was peaceful but, danger lurked once in a while.
This story was published in the IOWA BARN FOUNDATION magazine --Spring of 2009 under article titled Vignettes From Rural Iowa by yours truly.
There were places where I could think my thoughts in peace and solitude. I could walk the soft dirt lane west of our corn-crib. And, especially the feel running through my toes of the gentle and clean "mud" after a summer rain. I could climb up the elevator attached to the corn-crib and sit and look at nothing but open and beautiful sky for as far as you could see.
The same could be said for climbing up to the peak of the barn. I could reach it by crawling up on the wooden cattle loader parked on the east side of the barn. Then I would scoot up to the peak and straddle it like a saddle.
The shingles on the roof were wooden slats with an occasional nail sticking out here and there. You had to be careful of those nails especially coming down and a clump of moss also in the mix didn't make it any easier. The wrong move could spell disaster. Yes! You guessed it.
On one occasion, a nail bit me and down I went head first mind you, Just like I was sleding down a hill in the winter. Somebody up there was watching out for me that day, however. Just before I was ready to fall head first over the edge, another nail caught my pant leg of my jeans and in turn saved the day. You've heard the expression "saved by the bell" make that "saved by the "nail."
Who knows how that ten foot drop to the ground might have turned out? Living on the farm could be and most generally was peaceful but, danger lurked once in a while.
This story was published in the IOWA BARN FOUNDATION magazine --Spring of 2009 under article titled Vignettes From Rural Iowa by yours truly.
Saturday, August 16, 2014
MY ROOM FIT FOR A FRANCISCAN MONK
In desribing the size of the house I grew up in, I would always say that it had an attic on top of the attic! The upstairs had five fairly large bedrooms and one bathroom that was never functional or was not intended to be a bathroom. If you had to go, downstairs you went. I digress.
My bedroom was the smallest of the five and why it was chosen I'll never know because except for my sister, Doris', bedroom in the southwest corner, I could have had my pick. It was the middle room on the south side with a great view looking south in front of our home so I could check the coming and going. Plus, you could see all the way to the corner a quarter mile south where the road that went by our house and the road that went one mile west to highway 14 met.
My room had windows the width of the room with a sitting ledge covered with a soft vinyl covering. It was great for just sitting and looking out or displaying my "collectibles." It was a sunny room with a walk-in closet also with a window to provide light. Also, the closet had 1-inch by 1-inch slats on the upper third of the wall to allow light to go all the way through to the next closet. This home was built at the turn of the century(1900) and they knew what they were doing when there was no electricity.
The solid oak door to my room had a transom above it as all bedrooms did. It had device beside it so you could adjust the glass window above the door to allow air and light to come into the room. It was really cool.
My room was decorated simply. A wood framed double bed with a red cotton looped bedspread, a simple wood nightstand with a plain lamp shade, chest of drawers unfinished and simply clear varnished. Hardwood floor with just two red double loop throw rugs and a metal waste can with college pennants on it.(a collector's item today.) On the wall above the dresser was a paint by numbers cowboy theme wood frame picture. Also, a vinyl covered sling back chair up against one wall. That was about it. Most of my toys were in a northwest bedroom that was primarily used for this and that. Also, some of my prize toy fleet was kept in the kitchen in a lower built-in cabinet.
Unlike kids of today, I also didn't have alot of the tech stuff, sports items and on and on. Plus, in my closet I had maybe a half dozen pants, a few more shirts and no more than three or four pair of shoes. Good dress ones, school shoes, and a pair of tennis shoes.
Yup! Pretty simple. One thing that I did get at one point was an electric blanket. The upstairs was not kept heated in the winter to preserve energy so it got mighty cold on winter nights and on some mornings could see your breath and steam coming off the blanket. You didn't horse around very long getting out of bed in the mornings before racing down-stairs.
It could be a little scary upstairs. There was this time, after my sister, Doris, moved out and before my sister, Deborah, was old enough to move upstairs and have her own bedroom, that I was up there by my little old lonesome!
The stairs to the attic were next to my room. If anyone or ANYTHING would have come down from the attic in the middle of the night, (they never did) I would have been trapped because the stairs to go downstairs were on the other side of the attic stairs and the hallway. I would have been a dead man. At least my sister, Doris, could have made it out alive as she had a straight shot from her room to the stairs down.
Every Saturday I had to clean my room. All clothes were hung up, bed made, floors dusted and throw rugs shook out the window. No "dust bunnies" were allowed to be left under the bed. No sir! Once in a while my mom "the drill sargent" would come up for inspection. I always knew there would be consequences if the room didn't get cleaned. To this day my bed is made each morning. The end.
written originally 2008
Friday, August 15, 2014
FROM BRANDON/ JOKE OF THE DAY
What are 100 rabbits marching backward? A receding "hare-line!! Hare! Hare!
Thursday, August 14, 2014
SHE WAS NO SOCIALITE--
--But, she was my Grandma. As long as I can remember my Grandma Smith, she lived simply in a small apartments north of the down-town area of Marhsalltown or when I was really young I remember visiting her in a small cottage at the Iowa Veterans Home.
She never cooked a meal while visiting and of course living in an apartment didn't garden. I do remember her knitting or crocheting(never knew the difference) But, the work she did was very intricate and detailed despite her poor eye-sight or so it seemed.
For the time, she looked she looked like a Grandma should look. I have one picture of our family in Estes Park, Colorado by the Big Thompson Canyon River. There she sat at age 64 with her print mid-calf dress, black high tied shoes, white hair and of course no make-up.
She did have smooth, flawless, and very white skin. She never let much of her skin get exposed to the sun. That's the way "ladies" of the times did it. No doubt, that's why she had such a beautiful comlexion into her 90's. A lesson ladies!
She would come down and stay with us on the farm on different occasions. The one north bedroom upstairs at our place, I always considered it hers. Any time we had family get togethers she was always included. Years later, it got very difficult to get her out of her apartment for most occasions.
On one of her late birthdays, I had called her the night before to wish her a happy birthday. She didn't answer the phone but, I assumed that possibly my aunt Vivian(oldest daughter) had her come to their house near-by or she had gone to bed early.
Well, the next day was her actual birthday so I thought I would call her then. Why I didn't call my mother or aunt I'll never know. She had fallen and laid there all night and my aunt Vivian found her the next day on her birthday. That poor lady laid there all night. I felt so guilty!
Compared to my Grandma Laverty, Grandma Smith had very little. As a kid you were lucky to get anything for your birthday or Christmas and that was OK.
When she was at the Southridge Nursing Home in Marshalltown I would visit her at least once a month either coming up from DesMoines where I lived while visiting my folks who lived in Melbourne or just straight up to visit just her.
She loved the Chicago Cubs and her knowledge of baseball was embarrasing to the average fan. She knew more basball stats then you really needed to know! She was amazing. My sister, Deborah, had her name announced for her 90th birthdayat Wrigley during a Cub game. She didn't care to watch basketball on TV as the action was too fast and difficult for her to follow.
Her mind was very sharp and memory extremely good for someone in their mid-nineties. The only thing that was frustrating was she wouldn't get hearing aids and it would get tiresome having to almost shout when visiting with her. But, sometimes while your back was to her while leaving and saying something, it was amazing that she knew what had been said??
Bottom line. She didn't have alot, she never said "I love you," or many hugs, but, she was my Grandma and deserved respect and dignity. Most of all, my love.
originally written 7/25/08
Wednesday, August 13, 2014
NOT SURE I WANT TO GO BACK!
Last summer a fellow employee from the Burg Grocery went with her husband to the State Fair to see the Happy Together Tour 2014 at the Grand Stand with oldies groups from the 1960's (or so) like the Turtles, Gary U.S. Bonds, and Mitch Ryder.
It reminded me years ago when in my 40's of going to the Buddy Holly Reunion held annually at the Surf Ballroom in Clear Lake, Iowa. Walking in that winter night, all I seemed to see were guys with balding hair-lines with graying hair and stomachs out well beyond. Well, you get the picture. Where were the young girls with the long skirts and petticoats and saddle shoes. No cute pony-tails! Other-words, where was the magic. Just a bunch of "middle age" people waking around with plastic beer cups in their hands acting foolish!
I used to go to the State Fair when they had the Friday night Oldie show. Only years ago they called it the Rock and Roll Re-union. It was fun seeing the likes of Little Richard and Freddie "Boom Boom" Cannon.
One of my conclusions and reflections is it helps to have a companion or spouse of your age to share those legends. It also helps a little if you have a few cups of the old brew to get you in the mood. I no longer have the first nor do I partake of the latter.
Maybe for me it's best to just enjoy those old tunes and groups from the 1950's and 60's in the confines of my vehicle. I can enjoy and remember when we were all younger still!
It reminded me years ago when in my 40's of going to the Buddy Holly Reunion held annually at the Surf Ballroom in Clear Lake, Iowa. Walking in that winter night, all I seemed to see were guys with balding hair-lines with graying hair and stomachs out well beyond. Well, you get the picture. Where were the young girls with the long skirts and petticoats and saddle shoes. No cute pony-tails! Other-words, where was the magic. Just a bunch of "middle age" people waking around with plastic beer cups in their hands acting foolish!
I used to go to the State Fair when they had the Friday night Oldie show. Only years ago they called it the Rock and Roll Re-union. It was fun seeing the likes of Little Richard and Freddie "Boom Boom" Cannon.
One of my conclusions and reflections is it helps to have a companion or spouse of your age to share those legends. It also helps a little if you have a few cups of the old brew to get you in the mood. I no longer have the first nor do I partake of the latter.
Maybe for me it's best to just enjoy those old tunes and groups from the 1950's and 60's in the confines of my vehicle. I can enjoy and remember when we were all younger still!
Tuesday, August 12, 2014
THE HUSTLER AND OLD MAN QUIGLEY
It was the early 1960's and I was attending Marshalltown Junior College and working part time at a shoe store called Nichol's and Green. On occasion at lunch time and generally on a Saturday, I would walk along Main Street to a pool hall called the Tremont. As I recall, it was like a complex, one side a restaurant, the other side a pool hall and bar. My enjoyment was to go back and watch from one of the "high" chairs, the type you would only find in a pool hall, and watch a game or two of eight ball or billiards. It was a great way to spend the lunch hour.
Typical for its time, there were only pool tables lined up in this huge room or so it seemed. There were probably a dozen or so tables but, seemed like many more. Ther were regular tables where you could play eight ball, billiard tables-no pockets- and snooker tables-with small pockets- a game played with smaller balls.
Each table had one or two metal "warehouse" lights hanging low over them. The walls were bare except for the racks for the sticks. The huge room was designed for one reason only and it said "Let's shoot some pool."
One of my favorite guys to watch was "Old Mr. Quigley." I guess he was older and as far as I knew, he owned a lot of real-estate in town and either didn't have to work much or was retired. He was a good player, always moving around the table slowly, spoke softly, and didn't say a whole lot. A little thin guy, but, could hold that stick steady with his index finger and shoot with so much accuracy. He was my hero! My Minnesota Fats of sorts from Marshalltown.
One day a young guy from Cedar Rapids strolled in with "case" in hand and looking for a "game." The match of the day was about to begin. My hero and the "Cedar Rapids Kid." Or at least that was what I called him.
I really don't recall how many games they played or if they played for much money but, my hero was way out of his league with the "Kid." He waxed the thin man from Marshalltown. It wasn't even close. The hustler from Cedar Rapids walked around the table like he had on ballet slippers, chalking that cue and shooting with lightening speed.
Yup! I learned a valuable lesson that day! There is always somebody a little better. It really didn't matter though, I was still crushed!
Typical for its time, there were only pool tables lined up in this huge room or so it seemed. There were probably a dozen or so tables but, seemed like many more. Ther were regular tables where you could play eight ball, billiard tables-no pockets- and snooker tables-with small pockets- a game played with smaller balls.
Each table had one or two metal "warehouse" lights hanging low over them. The walls were bare except for the racks for the sticks. The huge room was designed for one reason only and it said "Let's shoot some pool."
One of my favorite guys to watch was "Old Mr. Quigley." I guess he was older and as far as I knew, he owned a lot of real-estate in town and either didn't have to work much or was retired. He was a good player, always moving around the table slowly, spoke softly, and didn't say a whole lot. A little thin guy, but, could hold that stick steady with his index finger and shoot with so much accuracy. He was my hero! My Minnesota Fats of sorts from Marshalltown.
One day a young guy from Cedar Rapids strolled in with "case" in hand and looking for a "game." The match of the day was about to begin. My hero and the "Cedar Rapids Kid." Or at least that was what I called him.
I really don't recall how many games they played or if they played for much money but, my hero was way out of his league with the "Kid." He waxed the thin man from Marshalltown. It wasn't even close. The hustler from Cedar Rapids walked around the table like he had on ballet slippers, chalking that cue and shooting with lightening speed.
Yup! I learned a valuable lesson that day! There is always somebody a little better. It really didn't matter though, I was still crushed!
Monday, August 11, 2014
SUMMERTIME MEMORIES OF AGO/MY HIDE-OUTS!
Every young boy on the farm or from the city had a hide-out. I actually had several since that was the beauty of living on a farm. Of course, mine were the best so I thought.
The best spot I'll save till the last. You'll just have to wait. Keep in mind most of my everyday hide-outs were also places you played most days but, my Russian proof place was not really considered a place to play. No sir!
The "cave" beside our house was more like a play area. At one time a house had sat there, moved out and then capped the basement and was used as a fruit cellar but, more importantly, it was my domain as a kid. Besides, it was too close to our house and parents. Another minor hide-out was a large storage area above our detached garage. Up in the balconies of our barn, I could build a secluded fort made of bales of hay. It was a little too dark and lonely.
Also, a fairly long walk to the "ditch" back near the north-west corner of our farm was a good get-a-way. It was where a deep creviced creek started that fed into Rock Creek. It was like a miniature Grand Canyon. It wasn't wide but deeper than most men. Every farm had a place like that to take stuff to dump. We didn't have land-fills.
So much for the suspense! My top secret hide-out could (possibly) not be found. Not even by the whole Russian army. (the cold war was on when I was a kid and they were are big enemy)
A quarter mile south of our home was a gravel road that went west one mile to highway 14. From the corner where that road started you could go maybe one hundred yards and stop. Under the road was a square concrete culvert that ran under the road. It was for water run-off from our farm then ran through the culvert and dropped a few feet(like a small waterfall) into a small creek on the adjoining farm. You could only go through it and waddle like a duck because the culvert was only 3x3 at most. On our side where I entered, the grass was tall and the entrance was hard to detect.
Disappointed? Well, to me it was cool and it was my hide-out. Just mine! The Russians would have never found me not in a million years!
The best spot I'll save till the last. You'll just have to wait. Keep in mind most of my everyday hide-outs were also places you played most days but, my Russian proof place was not really considered a place to play. No sir!
The "cave" beside our house was more like a play area. At one time a house had sat there, moved out and then capped the basement and was used as a fruit cellar but, more importantly, it was my domain as a kid. Besides, it was too close to our house and parents. Another minor hide-out was a large storage area above our detached garage. Up in the balconies of our barn, I could build a secluded fort made of bales of hay. It was a little too dark and lonely.
Also, a fairly long walk to the "ditch" back near the north-west corner of our farm was a good get-a-way. It was where a deep creviced creek started that fed into Rock Creek. It was like a miniature Grand Canyon. It wasn't wide but deeper than most men. Every farm had a place like that to take stuff to dump. We didn't have land-fills.
So much for the suspense! My top secret hide-out could (possibly) not be found. Not even by the whole Russian army. (the cold war was on when I was a kid and they were are big enemy)
A quarter mile south of our home was a gravel road that went west one mile to highway 14. From the corner where that road started you could go maybe one hundred yards and stop. Under the road was a square concrete culvert that ran under the road. It was for water run-off from our farm then ran through the culvert and dropped a few feet(like a small waterfall) into a small creek on the adjoining farm. You could only go through it and waddle like a duck because the culvert was only 3x3 at most. On our side where I entered, the grass was tall and the entrance was hard to detect.
Disappointed? Well, to me it was cool and it was my hide-out. Just mine! The Russians would have never found me not in a million years!
Sunday, August 10, 2014
YOU ARE EATING WHAT?
Recently at the Burg Grocery a lady was checking maybe twenty-five or thirty frozen box dinners.(TV dinners as they used to be called) I said something cute like there seems to be some type of theme here with all this sameness.
She shot back that they were for someone in her family that couldn't cook while someone else in the family was going to be away for "FIVE" weeks visiting family. Since I'm fairly sharp I figured out that her husband couldn't cook.
But, TV dinners for five weeks? Hope his blood pressure is OK. Lots of salt there. When I'm left to fend for myself I look forward to fixing some of my favorites that my significant does not care for or eating out at a resturant that's one of my favorites. Gee guys learn to cook! You just might enjoy it!
She shot back that they were for someone in her family that couldn't cook while someone else in the family was going to be away for "FIVE" weeks visiting family. Since I'm fairly sharp I figured out that her husband couldn't cook.
But, TV dinners for five weeks? Hope his blood pressure is OK. Lots of salt there. When I'm left to fend for myself I look forward to fixing some of my favorites that my significant does not care for or eating out at a resturant that's one of my favorites. Gee guys learn to cook! You just might enjoy it!
CREAM CAN COOKING?
A few days ago after visiting with a close cousin from the Traer, Iowa area I learned something interesting that I had not heard of before. Yes, you can always teach an old dog a new trick or two.
In visiting she mentioned that her son had prepared recently what is called "Creamer Can Cooking." Say that again. He put in a few hams, sausage(lots of it) sweet corn with the shucks on, and lots of potatoes and veggies of all kinds. Add two or three gallons of water and then put the lid on. He has a heavy in ground grate like you would find in a park. He puts the creamer on top and cooks it over the open fire. Within an hour and a half you have some great eating for 30 people or so. (Salads and desserts are in addition.)
Of course, I googled up and found lots of information, recipes, and the like. It's the mid-west's answer to a fish boil. Same principle! Just had not heard of it. If anybody out there does this let the rest of us know. Also, the date and time when we can join you!
In visiting she mentioned that her son had prepared recently what is called "Creamer Can Cooking." Say that again. He put in a few hams, sausage(lots of it) sweet corn with the shucks on, and lots of potatoes and veggies of all kinds. Add two or three gallons of water and then put the lid on. He has a heavy in ground grate like you would find in a park. He puts the creamer on top and cooks it over the open fire. Within an hour and a half you have some great eating for 30 people or so. (Salads and desserts are in addition.)
Of course, I googled up and found lots of information, recipes, and the like. It's the mid-west's answer to a fish boil. Same principle! Just had not heard of it. If anybody out there does this let the rest of us know. Also, the date and time when we can join you!
Saturday, August 9, 2014
KAREN WAS MY MARGARET
Some of you might remember Margaret from "Dennis the Menace" comics. She was always giving him fits. Thus my story begins.
In my school class we had around fifteen boys to five girls at any given time. So why did my closest playmate as a kid have to be a "girl." Only a quarter of a mile away or just down the rode aways. If you were a city kid that was like across the street.
Don't get me wrong, Karen was just an ordinary girl but when you're a young boy most girls seem to be a pain. Her parents were great people and I really liked them. When my Dad died when I was nine, Karen's mother Phyllis was a great comfort to my mother.
When we played together, it always seemed that Karen was well let's say "bossy." She was also a lonely child. Plus, girls like to play their "game" of house and all that generally not cowboys and indians. I think it has to do with nurturing and well that's the way I see it!
There were times when she would get mad at me and would say; "Well, I'm leaving and not coming back here." She always came back! I was the only game in town at least close by.
Sometimes I think growing up with two sisters, my Mom, female teachers, and KAREN, it's a wonder I didn't turn out a little stranger than I did!
In my school class we had around fifteen boys to five girls at any given time. So why did my closest playmate as a kid have to be a "girl." Only a quarter of a mile away or just down the rode aways. If you were a city kid that was like across the street.
Don't get me wrong, Karen was just an ordinary girl but when you're a young boy most girls seem to be a pain. Her parents were great people and I really liked them. When my Dad died when I was nine, Karen's mother Phyllis was a great comfort to my mother.
When we played together, it always seemed that Karen was well let's say "bossy." She was also a lonely child. Plus, girls like to play their "game" of house and all that generally not cowboys and indians. I think it has to do with nurturing and well that's the way I see it!
There were times when she would get mad at me and would say; "Well, I'm leaving and not coming back here." She always came back! I was the only game in town at least close by.
Sometimes I think growing up with two sisters, my Mom, female teachers, and KAREN, it's a wonder I didn't turn out a little stranger than I did!
IOWA STATE FAIR CONTINUED-- WHY I LOVE IT SO!
I've saved the best for last. The FOOD. Usually before heading up the hill for the Cultural Building I make one stop first. I dead head straight south of the Administration Building and just north of the Bill Riley Stage. It's what I wait for all year. The one and only "Gizmo." An Italian sub shaped sausage sandwich which is out of this world. This tasty treat is served warm with the loose sausage topped with mozzarella or provolone and in a soft hoggie bun. What a delight! The guy that started it years ago never had a resturant and just had a stand at the Fair.I've learned to duplicate this favorite at home but, nothing beats it at the Fair and enjoying this annual pleasure.
Another must is finding just the right vendor for a fresh lemonade. The fair would not be complete without sharing at least a funnel cake and there is only one vendor that is along the main con-course close to the Ag Building. The most popular item has been the pork chop on a stick from the Pork Producers location. If you haven't tried this baby you don't know what you are missing. Usually a long line but it moves extremely fast.
Then the last thing before heading back to the car is one last stop for a WONDER BAR! This is located(at least the best) close to the funnel cake stand also on the main con-course.
Hopefully, I will be able to enjoy all the excitement, the energy, charm, and all that the Iowa State Fair shares for many years to come. Each year it seems to only get better especially with the many free stages of quality entertainment. May you live forever.
Another must is finding just the right vendor for a fresh lemonade. The fair would not be complete without sharing at least a funnel cake and there is only one vendor that is along the main con-course close to the Ag Building. The most popular item has been the pork chop on a stick from the Pork Producers location. If you haven't tried this baby you don't know what you are missing. Usually a long line but it moves extremely fast.
Then the last thing before heading back to the car is one last stop for a WONDER BAR! This is located(at least the best) close to the funnel cake stand also on the main con-course.
Hopefully, I will be able to enjoy all the excitement, the energy, charm, and all that the Iowa State Fair shares for many years to come. Each year it seems to only get better especially with the many free stages of quality entertainment. May you live forever.
FROM MOTHER GOOSE AND GRIM
Timmy is sitting in electric chair and Lassie is sitting behind glass and says "Sorry, Timmy I can't pull you out of this one!
Friday, August 8, 2014
IOWA STATE FAIR-WHY I LOVE IT SO!
A few years ago, the Iowa State Fair was recognized by a national magazine as one of the top leisure destinations in the country. Right up there with the likes of Disneyland. As far as I'm concerned, during the month of August it's where to be at least in the state of Iowa and I would bet a few other states thrown in for chuckles.
Where do I start. Let's start with my first phase of of what over the years has been an annual tradition if not once during the ten day run but on occasion at least two trips. First, I never parked inside the fair. Just the out of town people do that, not us pros. My preference was just west of the main entrance on Des Moines street and I would park in someone's yard. Usually a block from the main west entrance. It was almost a sport to locate a "yard" close but not too close. Within a couple of minutes, I was at the main west gate entrance.
Once in, my usual routine was to walk east on Grand Avenue(the main con-course) and make my way up the hill to the cultural building that housed the art work and prize photographs. Every year I said the same thing after viewing a favorite painting. If only I would have purchased just one piece each year of an Iowa artist, what a great collection I would have had. A minor regret.
Coming back down, it was a must to take the sky glider and take in breath-taking view of the fair from above especially around sunset. All the beautiful lighting of the vendors along Grand Avenue and the mid-way and just watching all the fair-goers. Unbelievable.
Once down,you maybe head for a nostalgic stroll through the mid-way especially in the evening when the mid-way looks it best. There is something magical about all the rides at night even knowing how sick you would be on riding most of them. It's fun to watch the carnies trying to coax you into a game of chance or two. Besides, how hard can it be to knock over a lead filled milk container with an extremely light softball.
Next, even though it doesn't change much year to year, it's time to go through the Varied Industries building. Just outside are many venders selling all kinds of things. My favorite is what I call the "slicer-dicer guy." He makes this cutting contraption look so easy to work and easily change numerous cutting blades. Am always amazed that people get suckered into buying this cheap----.
Once inside the now called the Bill Knapp Varied Industries building, we are ready to go through rows and rows of everything from companies selling pianos, organs, soft-water systems, windows, hot-tubs and on and on. Most all with free drawings. Sometimes it was fun to fill in a friend's name and let the poor sucker get the solicitation calls! Upstairs were where they displayed quilts. Call me crazy but, I always enjoyed that.
Generally, after coming down from the Cultural building, I would swing through the live-stock buildings and at least catch the biggest pig or Boer and the biggest Bull along with the exotic chickens, horse barn and much more. I've always said you can't beat watching a thousand pound pig just laying there!
Somewhere along the way you have to find a bench at a good vantage point and just watch people. That may be the best part of the fair! Through the years, I have taken in some judging and competition. That's always great if you have the time and energy to spend a whole day and pick a few select events.
One swipe through the Ag. building is interesting but not my favorite The Old Timer's building is fun if your into the flea market scene and old "stuff." And, not each time, but, once in awhile it's an eye opener to go through the farm implement area and check out a new tractor that is listed for close to $400,000. To be continued.
Where do I start. Let's start with my first phase of of what over the years has been an annual tradition if not once during the ten day run but on occasion at least two trips. First, I never parked inside the fair. Just the out of town people do that, not us pros. My preference was just west of the main entrance on Des Moines street and I would park in someone's yard. Usually a block from the main west entrance. It was almost a sport to locate a "yard" close but not too close. Within a couple of minutes, I was at the main west gate entrance.
Once in, my usual routine was to walk east on Grand Avenue(the main con-course) and make my way up the hill to the cultural building that housed the art work and prize photographs. Every year I said the same thing after viewing a favorite painting. If only I would have purchased just one piece each year of an Iowa artist, what a great collection I would have had. A minor regret.
Coming back down, it was a must to take the sky glider and take in breath-taking view of the fair from above especially around sunset. All the beautiful lighting of the vendors along Grand Avenue and the mid-way and just watching all the fair-goers. Unbelievable.
Once down,you maybe head for a nostalgic stroll through the mid-way especially in the evening when the mid-way looks it best. There is something magical about all the rides at night even knowing how sick you would be on riding most of them. It's fun to watch the carnies trying to coax you into a game of chance or two. Besides, how hard can it be to knock over a lead filled milk container with an extremely light softball.
Next, even though it doesn't change much year to year, it's time to go through the Varied Industries building. Just outside are many venders selling all kinds of things. My favorite is what I call the "slicer-dicer guy." He makes this cutting contraption look so easy to work and easily change numerous cutting blades. Am always amazed that people get suckered into buying this cheap----.
Once inside the now called the Bill Knapp Varied Industries building, we are ready to go through rows and rows of everything from companies selling pianos, organs, soft-water systems, windows, hot-tubs and on and on. Most all with free drawings. Sometimes it was fun to fill in a friend's name and let the poor sucker get the solicitation calls! Upstairs were where they displayed quilts. Call me crazy but, I always enjoyed that.
Generally, after coming down from the Cultural building, I would swing through the live-stock buildings and at least catch the biggest pig or Boer and the biggest Bull along with the exotic chickens, horse barn and much more. I've always said you can't beat watching a thousand pound pig just laying there!
Somewhere along the way you have to find a bench at a good vantage point and just watch people. That may be the best part of the fair! Through the years, I have taken in some judging and competition. That's always great if you have the time and energy to spend a whole day and pick a few select events.
One swipe through the Ag. building is interesting but not my favorite The Old Timer's building is fun if your into the flea market scene and old "stuff." And, not each time, but, once in awhile it's an eye opener to go through the farm implement area and check out a new tractor that is listed for close to $400,000. To be continued.
Dennis: Now and Ago: BRANDON"S JOKE OF THE DAY
Dennis: Now and Ago: BRANDON'S JOKE OF THE DAY: Where do old comedians go when they retire? "The Old Joke's Home!"
Wednesday, August 6, 2014
IOWA STATE FAIR_CAN YOU DIG IT!
It's almost time for the biggest event the state of Iowa will put on for the entire year. No, it's not the Iowa-Iowa State football game.
I love the State Fair. Been going to it off and on for most of my life time. It must be the energy, the people, the action. It just seems to take on a life of its own. For ten days it is where it is HAPPENING!
I don't spenf the amount of time there as I used to nor do I eat the amount of food I used to. But, I love going there to just be a part of something exceptionally special.
This year the plan is to go on a Wednesday afternoon and for sure eat my favorite food-a Gizmo(Italian sausage sandwich) near the Bill Riley stage. Maybe just maybe a pork chop on a stick(wern't real good last year) and for sure a Wonder Bar before leaving.
Will ride the Sky Glider to view the Fair and all its lights and sights from above. Plan on meeting a close friend, Jerry Roberts, to watch one of the many free stage shows.This one being-Hotel California-Tribute to the Eagles. Yes! I can dig it!
I love the State Fair. Been going to it off and on for most of my life time. It must be the energy, the people, the action. It just seems to take on a life of its own. For ten days it is where it is HAPPENING!
I don't spenf the amount of time there as I used to nor do I eat the amount of food I used to. But, I love going there to just be a part of something exceptionally special.
This year the plan is to go on a Wednesday afternoon and for sure eat my favorite food-a Gizmo(Italian sausage sandwich) near the Bill Riley stage. Maybe just maybe a pork chop on a stick(wern't real good last year) and for sure a Wonder Bar before leaving.
Will ride the Sky Glider to view the Fair and all its lights and sights from above. Plan on meeting a close friend, Jerry Roberts, to watch one of the many free stage shows.This one being-Hotel California-Tribute to the Eagles. Yes! I can dig it!
WHAT'S IN A NAME -SCHOOL THAT IS!
Years ago I noticed a school district in south central Iowa called "Interstate 35." My first thought was how could anyone name a school after a strip of concrete. What pride could we take with us into adulthood with fond memories of old I-35.
I grew up around the small town of Laurel, Iowa. It was called Laurel Consolidated School District because it was consolidated from small one room country schools around the area. Then in the early 1960's it consolidated with a near-by town of Gilman to become SEMCO. Then a few years later Laurel, Gilman, LeGrand, and Ferguson consolidated to become East Marshall.
Some schools remain as their name implies- Marshalltown, Williamsburg, Newton, etc. Some today are combined: Adair/Casey, and Aplington/Parkersburg. Another category is quite lengthy: Rudd-Rockford-Marbel-RK Community School District and Sheffield-Chapin-Messservey-Thorton Community School District. Those poor cheerleaders!
The following are some of my favorites. See what you think! The following schools go by letters: BCLUW, AGWSR, AR-WE-VA and H-L-V Community School District. "Give me an A, give me a G, a W, then an S and a R. What's it spell-AGWSR. What were they thinking!
It should be noted that there are 14 schools with the direction West in it, six Souths, eleven Norths and five Easts. I guess the old adage "go west young man" had an impression.
Maybe we should have real estate developers in charge of naming schools. There is an exclusive development near Sioux City called Dakota Dunes. Streets were named: Sawgrass Trail. West Fluire Rd, Spy Glass Circle, Quil Hollow Circle and Sioux Point Road. And, what about Whispering Oaks. A pair of school districts gave it a shot-Morning Sun in Louisa County and Praire View Valley School District.
Let's not forget about the schools like Roosevelt, Lincoln,Washington, and Hoover. Very patiotic and simple. I'm not even going to go there about Turkey Valley. Maybe I-35 wasn't such a bad idea. Actually it probably looks pretty good on a baseball cap!
I grew up around the small town of Laurel, Iowa. It was called Laurel Consolidated School District because it was consolidated from small one room country schools around the area. Then in the early 1960's it consolidated with a near-by town of Gilman to become SEMCO. Then a few years later Laurel, Gilman, LeGrand, and Ferguson consolidated to become East Marshall.
Some schools remain as their name implies- Marshalltown, Williamsburg, Newton, etc. Some today are combined: Adair/Casey, and Aplington/Parkersburg. Another category is quite lengthy: Rudd-Rockford-Marbel-RK Community School District and Sheffield-Chapin-Messservey-Thorton Community School District. Those poor cheerleaders!
The following are some of my favorites. See what you think! The following schools go by letters: BCLUW, AGWSR, AR-WE-VA and H-L-V Community School District. "Give me an A, give me a G, a W, then an S and a R. What's it spell-AGWSR. What were they thinking!
It should be noted that there are 14 schools with the direction West in it, six Souths, eleven Norths and five Easts. I guess the old adage "go west young man" had an impression.
Maybe we should have real estate developers in charge of naming schools. There is an exclusive development near Sioux City called Dakota Dunes. Streets were named: Sawgrass Trail. West Fluire Rd, Spy Glass Circle, Quil Hollow Circle and Sioux Point Road. And, what about Whispering Oaks. A pair of school districts gave it a shot-Morning Sun in Louisa County and Praire View Valley School District.
Let's not forget about the schools like Roosevelt, Lincoln,Washington, and Hoover. Very patiotic and simple. I'm not even going to go there about Turkey Valley. Maybe I-35 wasn't such a bad idea. Actually it probably looks pretty good on a baseball cap!
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