Loose Ends
The Early Years
I remember, I remember the day that I was born....
I remember, I remember the day that I was born....
but then I was born at a very early age.
I don’t know where these two phrases came from. They have stayed in my head all these years, probably part of the remembrances of my father, who died at age 50 before I really got to know him.
Actually, I was born December 30, 1929. (I always had trouble remembering whether it was December 30, 1929 or December 29, 1930. But that didn’t matter because I could always remember my age. Except for the last two days of the year, the last digit of my age coincided with the last digit of the current year.)
My birth date is significant since two months earlier, on October 30, 1929, the stock market crashed and the Great Depression began.
My family had not been long in my birthplace, Clark, South Dakota, and we stayed only a little while after my birth...13 days to be exact. My father was an early victim of “downsizing” because of the depression. He worked for the local newspaper and the owner’s son had come back, since college was no longer affordable, and he took my dad’s place. We had to move to Wynot, Nebraska, and the newspaper owned by my grandfather.
Daddy took my two older sisters back to Wynot and Mother stayed long enough to get her strength back after my birth. When I was 13 days old, Mother began the 200 mile trip in a January snowstorm. She got a ride to nearby Redfield, S.D., where she got a hotel room overnight in order to board a train the next morning.
As she told the story, she didn’t dare leave me alone in the room but was too weak to take me downstairs so she went without supper. My dad and his brother, Roy, met Mother in Yankton, South Dakota and they began the short car trip to Wynot. On the way, however, the car broke down and the snow forced them to find shelter in a nearby farm home. The car was eventually repaired and the trip resumed, but the short version of the story is that Mother brought me to Wynot at age 13 days through a 200 mile snowstorm.
When the depression hit and my dad lost his job, there was nothing to do but go back to Wynot. Subsequently the railroad through Wynot was abandoned, retail stores left, and the newspaper proved inadequate to support more than one family. Grandpa decided it was time to move on and he picked Schuyler, Nebraska, as a larger town where a newspaper could support two families. It was there he founded the Colfax County Call.
My first memory in Schuyler was going to kindergarten at age four, where we had to bring our own rug to lay on and take a nap in the afternoon. Another thing I remember is the lack of attention paid to my birthday. Since it came just a few days after Christmas, there was never enough money or desire to make a big thing of it.
One year I was invited to a girl’s party the same day as my birthday. I brought a piece of her birthday cake home and saved it so long it got rock hard.
We lived on a corner lot with a big yard and I remember the neighbor boy, who was much older and bigger than me, would come out to play football. He roughed me up, bullied me, and made fun of me; but I loved it -- and him -- for paying attention. When he moved away he gave me that tattered old black leather football and I thought it was the most wonderful thing anybody could do for me.
My next older sister, Rose Marie, was always late to school in Schuyler because her route took her through downtown and store windows attracted her attention. The same tardiness arose in the family many years later when my son pretended as if he was blind and tried to walk to school without opening his eyes.
My dad was a volunteer fireman. I can remember him coming home with his clothes frozen from water sprayed on him at a winter fire. Another story I remember was the storage building fire that wouldn’t succumb to water. As it happened, a lot of paraffin was stored inside and it caught fire and floated on the water. Today, foam would be used.
By this time it was 1935, Grandpa was 72 and the Call apparently was not doing that well against the long-established Schuyler Sun (which is still in existence). It was time for Harry Sr., to retire. He and Grandma Delina moved in with their daughter Ruth, who by now was married and head of the pharmacy department at Lutheran Hospital in Omaha.
I don’t know where these two phrases came from. They have stayed in my head all these years, probably part of the remembrances of my father, who died at age 50 before I really got to know him.
Actually, I was born December 30, 1929. (I always had trouble remembering whether it was December 30, 1929 or December 29, 1930. But that didn’t matter because I could always remember my age. Except for the last two days of the year, the last digit of my age coincided with the last digit of the current year.)
My birth date is significant since two months earlier, on October 30, 1929, the stock market crashed and the Great Depression began.
My family had not been long in my birthplace, Clark, South Dakota, and we stayed only a little while after my birth...13 days to be exact. My father was an early victim of “downsizing” because of the depression. He worked for the local newspaper and the owner’s son had come back, since college was no longer affordable, and he took my dad’s place. We had to move to Wynot, Nebraska, and the newspaper owned by my grandfather.
Daddy took my two older sisters back to Wynot and Mother stayed long enough to get her strength back after my birth. When I was 13 days old, Mother began the 200 mile trip in a January snowstorm. She got a ride to nearby Redfield, S.D., where she got a hotel room overnight in order to board a train the next morning.
As she told the story, she didn’t dare leave me alone in the room but was too weak to take me downstairs so she went without supper. My dad and his brother, Roy, met Mother in Yankton, South Dakota and they began the short car trip to Wynot. On the way, however, the car broke down and the snow forced them to find shelter in a nearby farm home. The car was eventually repaired and the trip resumed, but the short version of the story is that Mother brought me to Wynot at age 13 days through a 200 mile snowstorm.
When the depression hit and my dad lost his job, there was nothing to do but go back to Wynot. Subsequently the railroad through Wynot was abandoned, retail stores left, and the newspaper proved inadequate to support more than one family. Grandpa decided it was time to move on and he picked Schuyler, Nebraska, as a larger town where a newspaper could support two families. It was there he founded the Colfax County Call.
My first memory in Schuyler was going to kindergarten at age four, where we had to bring our own rug to lay on and take a nap in the afternoon. Another thing I remember is the lack of attention paid to my birthday. Since it came just a few days after Christmas, there was never enough money or desire to make a big thing of it.
One year I was invited to a girl’s party the same day as my birthday. I brought a piece of her birthday cake home and saved it so long it got rock hard.
We lived on a corner lot with a big yard and I remember the neighbor boy, who was much older and bigger than me, would come out to play football. He roughed me up, bullied me, and made fun of me; but I loved it -- and him -- for paying attention. When he moved away he gave me that tattered old black leather football and I thought it was the most wonderful thing anybody could do for me.
My next older sister, Rose Marie, was always late to school in Schuyler because her route took her through downtown and store windows attracted her attention. The same tardiness arose in the family many years later when my son pretended as if he was blind and tried to walk to school without opening his eyes.
My dad was a volunteer fireman. I can remember him coming home with his clothes frozen from water sprayed on him at a winter fire. Another story I remember was the storage building fire that wouldn’t succumb to water. As it happened, a lot of paraffin was stored inside and it caught fire and floated on the water. Today, foam would be used.
By this time it was 1935, Grandpa was 72 and the Call apparently was not doing that well against the long-established Schuyler Sun (which is still in existence). It was time for Harry Sr., to retire. He and Grandma Delina moved in with their daughter Ruth, who by now was married and head of the pharmacy department at Lutheran Hospital in Omaha.
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