Bernie Klauenberg. He was a little different. Single and lived at home with his mother on a farm west of Laurel, Iowa. He was built like an offensive guard for a small college football team. He never talked a lot, but, always seemed to have a little chuckle going.
He never married and when he passed away he left his farm to the county for a land preserve. He was about ten years older than guys around me in high school, but, I guess because of maturity he felt more comfortable around people younger than him.
During the summer on a Saturday night, Bernie would roll into town in his light green 56' Chevy after dinner and pull into the Standard Oil gas station in Laurel. We would usually talk awhile and then make a decision to go to the auto races in Knoxville about fifty miles to the south on highway 14. We never had to worry about safety because Bernie never was known to drink or use drugs.
On a few occasions, Ed Spence and I, who was a grade ahead of me, would go out and work at Bernie's farm. Generally, it would be something like using a spade and chopping out thistles from pasture land.
What was great when working out there was lunch time. We'd usually drive to nearby Baxter and eat at the café connected to the livestock auction barn. The food was fantastic. The hamburgers were made at a time when fat content was still not a big issue. Probably 60/40 or who knows! All I know they were delicious. Greasy and juicy--nothing like it. The thick chocolate malt with lots of malt and ice cream made with real cream. The expression "it doesn't get any better than this" must have originated here!
After enjoying a feast like that and maybe catching a little of the auction, it was back to the salt mine. It wasn't a bad little summer job with a fantastic lunch time perk!
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