INFERNO 2000
Level 3

And I saw a man with a beard. He looked as if he had been up all night loosing an election. He sat in a straight-backed chair at a small wooden desk too low for his knees.

A small tome, the size of a journal or ledger, but much thicker, lay open in front of him. He leaned over the book and read through the bottom half of his bifocals, “Section sixty-one point three hundred and forty-two, subsection (a): An owner or operator of a facility at which the total annual benzene quantity from facility waste is less than 10 megagrams per year (Mg/yr) (11 ton/yr) shall be exempt from the requirements of paragraphs (b) and (c) of this section. The total annual benzene quantity from facility waste is the sum of the annual benzene quantity for each waste stream at the facility that has a flow-weighted annual average water content greater than 10 percent or that is mixed with water, or other wastes, at any time and the mixture has an annual average water content greater than 10 percent. The benzene quantity in a waste stream is to be counted only once without multiple counting if other waste streams are mixed with or generated from the original waste stream. Other specific requirements for calculating the total annual benzene waste quantity are as follows. Section sixty-one point three hundred and forty-two, subsection (a)(1): Wastes that are exempted from control under Section sixty-one point three hundred forty-two subsection (c)(2)…”

He sighed, stood up, and walked past us to a shelf of identical books. The shelf, just above his eye level, stretched from the elevator on his left down the corridor and around the corner, out of sight.

He felt for a book, pulled it down, read the cover, and returned it to its vacant spot in the line of books on the shelf. With his hand he felt down the row of books. Two volumes down he pulled another book off the shelf, glanced at the cover, and returned to the desk with Section Sixty-one Point Three Hundred Forty-two, Subsection (c)(2), and continued reading.

As I grasped the meaning of the bearded man’s fate, I exclaimed to my host, “Surely it will not take all of eternity for him to read the entire Code of Federal Regulations!”

“Ah,” replied my guide with a be-deviled smile. “They make 'em faster than he can read 'em.”

Anonymous Said

I like to read your site. However, sometimes it is hard to understand what the message is all about, but it is good to know people still write. Perhaps a posting explaining some of the teasures within. That would be great.


The Prairie Curmudgeon Replies

Well, I did not know there needed to be a message. Sorry about that, I've never been much good with rules.

Every obscure allusion, every misleading metaphor, every random reference, all the treasures within, make sense only as the product of my own peculiar set of interwoven memories and experiences. Your life sketch creates its own unique understanding of these passages, with a gap or two because you and I do not completely share every memory and experience. I suppose that I could explain the gaps. After all that is what communication is. You might even discern a message. But, I will absolutely warrant that the meaning you derive, through your own imagination, is far superior to any explanation I could provide.

By the way, thanks for the comment about this blog's emphasis on the written word. This purity is an artifact of my technological incompetence. Hypertext markup language is about as far as I can go. It gives me a convenient excuse for avoiding the posting of videos, advertisements, or other annoyances.

Viva, Las Vegas

So, my inbox is stuffed with offers on Viagra, Cialis, Whatever. Leave it to the stupid 'boomers.

They took the comma out of sex drugs and rock and roll.

Death and Carbon Taxes

President Obama wants me to reduce my carbon emissions by eighty percent. If I don’t he will tax the bejeezus out of me.

I guess I’ll buy a Prius. Thirty thousand dollars. It gets 45 miles to the gallon. My old car gets 25 miles to the gallon. That’s almost a fifty percent reduction. I only need 30 percent more. Oh, wait. That’s not how it works. My car’s only one part of my footprint. And besides, isn’t a Prius made out of, like, metal and plastic and rubber? Doesn’t that come out of the ground from iron and oil? Doesn’t mining and smelting and molding and all that leave a footprint? So, I guess if I trade in my old car for a Prius the benefit is something less than 50 percent.

My wife and kids, they can do without a car. They can walk. It’ll do them good. Hey, a hundred percent reduction, there. We’ll have to commute together, though. It’s only 20 minutes for both of us. Oh, wait. We go in opposite directions. That turns my commute into an hour. And how do we get all that softball gear to practice when I’m still at work? Who the hell’s the government to tell me what to do? I guess I’ll buy her a Prius, too, and settle for a lot less than 100 percent.

Then there’s my furnace. It’s natural gas. Nice and cozy. Probably my biggest source of dangerous greenhouse gases, don’t you think? I’ll switch to all electric heat. Ten thousand dollars. Space heaters in every room. I may need a blanket or two. Watch the baby! Oh, wait. Electricity comes from big power plants. Most of them burn coal. Don’t they say that natural gas turbines generate electricity more efficiently than coal? Makes for less carbon emissions. Why aren’t there more of those?

Oh, wait. I’m replacing a gas furnace with electricity made from coal or gas. That doesn’t sound all that efficient, does it? In fact, it’s going backwards. I guess I can’t personally get anywhere near an eighty percent reduction until all the coal and gas fired plants are shut down and replaced with wind and solar generators. That’s a lot of wind.

Might take an area the size of the state of North Dakota, I suppose. Oh, well. What else are we going to use North Dakota for, anyway. Oh, wait. Wind turbines are made out of steel and solar panels are made out of silicon and germanium. Don’t we have to mine those? And smelt them? And just how do we get all those turbines to North Dakota without burning a lot of diesel fuel. I guess we’ll just have to build more electric railroads.

Or nuclear. I bet they have nuclear railroads in France. No greenhouse gas emissions there. I’ll just buy all my electricity from the nuclear power plant my brother-in-law works at. Not enough nuclear plants to go around, you say? Let’s build more. Just concrete and steel and uranium, stuff that comes out of the ground. Oh, wait. Mr. Obama’s probably seen Silkwood.

So, I’ve spent seventy thousand dollars and can’t get my total footprint reduced by more than thirty percent. What shame. In the meantime I guess I’ll just conserve as much electricity as I can.

Did it ever occur to you that the best way to combat global warming is turn off your air conditioner?

Oh, I have to go out to Seattle next month for my niece’s graduation from pharmacy college. I suppose I could drive my Prius, but I don’t have that much vacation. If I fly I’ll leave a huge carbon footprint in the sky. I know, I’ll take one of those plug-in airplanes.

Wait. It says here I don’t have to get to the eighty percent reduction until 2050. Oh, good. I’ll be dead. One hundred percent reduction achieved! Oh, wait. There’s that silly thing called decomposition. My decay is dust and carbon dioxide.

This is hopeless.

Auburn and Nemaha County
Social and Economic Trends
1960-2003

Introduction

Many things have been assumed about the cultural and economic changes in small town America during the last 40 years and many of them are generally true. A study of Auburn, Nemaha County, Nebraska, and the surrounding area confirms some of these theories, but some surprises show up, too.

This study is by no means exhaustive; any conclusions are certainly open to debate. The information comes mainly from a study of the Auburn Newspapers (the Auburn Press Tribune and the Nemaha County Herald). Telephone books from 1960 through 2002 were consulted, as well as U.S. Census Bureau information. Finally, this study relies on the personal knowledge of this writer, who covered the Auburn city council (among other things) as a reporter during most of this period.

My original intent was to track businesses in Auburn from 1960 forward to see just how particular stores changed owners and locations and to see how many businesses remained unchanged after forty years. That turned out to be too much of a bookkeeping quagmire as stores changed owners, moved, changed owners again, went out of business and later were revived by yet another owner.

This study, instead, will show in general the trend of the changes between what existed in 1960 and what we have in 2003. Along the way interesting data turned up, illustrating the character of the community. Particular events have molded our nature and dictated particular approaches for dealing with the social and economic trends besetting small town America in the last half of the 20th century.

Living these events had left me with certain strong perceptions. But, when seen over the whole 40-year span, the view is actually somewhat different.

Population Trends

Some bare statistics provide a foundation for the social and economic trends that have shaped Auburn and Nemaha County in rural southeastern Nebraska during the last 40 years. In 1960 the official population of Auburn was 3,229. It increased to 3,650 in 1970 and then took a drop to 3,482 in 1980. The decline continued to 3,443 in 1990. The census figures for the year 2000 brought the city down to 3,350. Instead of the “tragic loss” of population commonly attributed to the rural Mid-West, the community has actually had an increase of 121 people over this 40-year period.

Nemaha County, on the other hand, has had a population decline over the same time period, from 9,035 to 7,576. Households in the county (as opposed to population) increased from 3,396 in 1970 to 3,495 in 1980. But since then the figure has declined steadily, to 3,047 in 2000.

Although population in the county has declined over these 40 years, the last 20 years have been better than much of the rest of Nebraska’s rural areas. A recent statistic from the USDA and census report indicated 61 of the state’s 93 counties had net out-migration of ten per cent or more from 1980 to 1999. Nemaha County was not among those 61 counties.

The percentage of elderly (age 65 and over) has stayed relatively constant at 18.5 per cent of the total county population. That would be 1,476 elderly in 1990 and 1,401 elderly in 2000. As expected, the overall decline in population thus has affected the number of elderly. A telling statistic is that, in 1996 for instance, the county recorded 83 births and 100 deaths. That ratio alone underscores the magnitude of the population decline. The population of Auburn remains stable because of a net migration influx.

Nemaha County continues to be basically composed of a white population. Less than three per cent are of African-American, Hispanic, or Asian decent, compared with about 13 per cent in the State of Nebraska as a whole. Home ownership in the county is currently at 72.5%, compared with 67.4% statewide. The median home value is $58,200 compared with $88,000 across Nebraska. Eighty-five and a half per cent of the county’s population has a high school diploma and 22.9% hold a bachelor’s or higher degree from college. Those figures are near the state average.

Business

While the fear of empty storefronts continues in Auburn, just as it does in many other small towns in the Midwest, the number of businesses here has actually increased in the period 1960 to 2002. The nature of business and the locations where business is conducted has changed over the years, but a few businesses from 1960 are still going strong.

In the telephone book of 1960 there were 143 total businesses listed for Auburn. Of those, 127 were considered retail, service or a combination of those two. Sixteen were classed as professional (doctors, lawyers, insurance salesmen, and the like). Industries were not included in the total. (There were two.)

By 2002 the total number of businesses came to 201, with 28 classified as professional. So business establishments, in general, increased by 30 in those 42 years and professional businesses increased by 12. There are now three industrial businesses.

Most of the increase in retail business came in the service sector. There were 68 retail stores in Auburn in 1960. There were 28 businesses that were considered service related and nine businesses were a combination of retail and service. By 2002, the number of retail stores had decreased to 66, but service sector businesses jumped up to 66 and seven businesses were both.

That we are becoming a service oriented society is certainly borne out in these statistics.

Another significant difference between today and 1960 is seen in the location of Auburn’s businesses. Even though businesses establishments have increased over all, the number of businesses considered to be in the downtown area (J Street from 6th Street to 15th Street, Central Avenue from H Street to K Street, and the 1300 block of Courthouse Avenue) decreased from 118 to 90. Of course there were no businesses at Crestview in 1960. Currently there are 20 stores in that new development and the immediate area. “South side”, the retail district around the Nemaha County Courthouse at 19th and M Street, has changed little, with20 units in 1960 and 22 stores currently. In 1960 there were 41 enterprises operated from residential homes. In 2002 the figure was 57.

In 1960 the home-based businesses included mostly beauty shops and insurance men, plus three neighborhood grocery stores. The modern scene now includes internet services and day care.

There are a number of business services available today that did not exist in 1960. Other services were available then, but not now. Some examples of new services are storage units, office supplies, computer retailers and copy centers, health care providers, a cable TV provider, video and movie rentals, an art gallery, telemarketing and others. Some examples of business that no longer in existence in Auburn include a tank wagon service, bakeries, paint stores, a sale barn, welding, printers, tailors, cold storage lockers, a pool hall, a hatchery, and a blacksmith to name a few. Some of those goods and services, such as bakery and paint, have been incorporated into other outlets.

Only two businesses, McConnell Auto Repair and Louie’s Barber Shop, are still in the same location and have the same owners as in 1960. Two other businesses, Humphrey Motor Electric and Ingersoll Barber Shop, are still in the same place, but are now owned by the sons of the founders. Six businesses still have the same name and are located in the same place, but have different owners. They are The Auburn Newspapers, Palmer House Motel, Auburn Speed Wash, Grand Central Hotel, Auburn Elevators and State Theatre. The theatre was closed down for several years and has re-opened.

A similar number of businesses have the same name as in 1960 but have moved to different locations. These are OK Tire (shortened from OK Tire Welders), German Mutual Insurance Association, Farm Bureau Insurance, Auburn State Bank, Carson National Bank, Bernard Real Estate, and Earl May.

Several businesses still have family members as owners even though the name or location has changed. Included are Lifetime Vision Center, Casey-Witzenburg-Hall Funeral Home, Bernard Real Estate, Johnson Motors, and OK Tires. The two banks cited above have interlocking directors and are basically owned by the descendents of the founders and their inter-related families. Earl May is still owned by the same corporation as in 1960, while German Mutual and Farm Bureau are co-ops under the same general structure they had in 1960.

There are some striking differences in the nature of business in the new millennium. We now have five firms considered to be building contractors compared with one in 1960. On the other hand there were seven clothing stores before and now only four. These figures get cloudy when one has to decide whether a department in a discount store classifies as a clothier when compared to a full time clothing retailer. There is no doubt, however, that options for many clothing lines are not available in the modern Auburn.

Here are some other comparisons from 1960 and 2002. Grocery stores, there were seven, now there are two, although there are also three convenience stores at gas stations that sell groceries as do a discount department store and a variety-type outlet. Feed and produce, there were seven, now one. Antiques, there were none in 1960, now eight. Gas stations, there were 13, now just three. Real estate, there were two, now there are five. Farm equipment, there were five, now there are two.

The figure that stands in these statistics relates to gas stations. Even though gallons sold have probably increased by multiples, the number of gas stations has decreased by 80%. The business that used to be called a “service” station now is dubbed a “gas” station. With the advent of self-service, cars move through much more quickly, multiple pumps are available, and less manpower is needed.

BUSINESS: PART TWO

One trend, which perhaps started prior to 1960, continues today. The number of non-resident business owners is increasing. In 1960 there were 16 stores, such as the Safeway and Hinky Dinky groceries, that employed local managers but were directed from corporate headquarters. Today in Auburn there are 25 businesses in that category.

The history of grocery stores illustrates the nature of small town business over this period. The trend has been to fewer, but larger, stores catering to a much larger trade territory, resulting in the loss of interest and loyalty by locals. The corporate giants (read Safeway) had stores located in the county seat, but expected only about a countywide trade territory. Neighborhood grocery stores, such as Reed’s and Oakman’s on J street and Midway on Courthouse Avenue in Auburn, provided a living for a couple, the traditional “Mom and Pop” operation. But then the corporations decided that bigger stores would draw from a larger territory and they built new stores accordingly. Although this strategy was the corporate plan, its execution often depended on local happenstance.

A fire destroyed the Hinky Dinky store on J Street. They moved to a new location at 13th and K Streets in 1966. Their new location was not much larger than their old place. The new strategy became evident when, in 1975, Safeway became the anchor store at a new planned development, called Crestview, located on the highway at the south edge of town. The new Safeway store was, for southeast Nebraska, a show place. However, by 1982 Safeway’s corporate management decided their Midwest operations were not profitable and shut them all down, including the store in Auburn. Jack and Jill (a quasi-corporate organization that provides product to a local owner, in a franchise-style operation) filled the Safeway building, but left in 1986. Taking advantage, Hinky Dinky took the opportunity to expand and went to Crestview. They went through several corporate changes, including a so called employee ownership buy-out, and are now called Sun Mart.

After Hinky Dinky moved from the 13th Street location, a store called Super Foods took over the location. This lasted until 1990 when it became J & D Market and was owned by two couples. After a time one of the couples bought the other out and the store is now called Glenn’s Corner Market. That leaves Auburn with only one “super market”. In the meantime the Mom and Pop stores have all closed. But the need for quick “in and out” service, for a loaf of bread or milk did not go away. That need has given rise to the “convenience” stores that now inhabit that niche.

The banking business has had an interesting growth in Auburn during the past 40 odd years. In 1960 Auburn State Bank and Carson National Bank were the only two general banking institutions. The Federal Land Bank was in operation but only for farm loans. These two banks were primarily owned by one family and had interlocking directors, which didn’t seem to bother anybody. They even took ads together announcing their closing hours for holidays.

But in 1968 they began advertising separately. It is not known whether banking regulations took a part in the decision or, as later generations of the families took over, it was the appearance that mattered. It might have been the filing for a charter by a new bank, the Nemaha County Bank, in 1968 that made it prudent for the two to appear competitive. In any event, the new charter was denied by the state.

Another sign of the times came in 1967 when counter checks were abandoned. Up to then stores kept pads of blank checks from area banks on their counters. Customers used them instead of personalized checks. The use of machine-read account numbers and computers dictated the change. Thereafter, stores had to find another source for scratch pads also.

More substantial change came in 1971 when Carson Bank opened a new facility which included an outdoor drive up service window, at Crestview. The same year Auburn State opened a new facility in the lot where Hinky Dinky had burned out. Auburn State Bank added a free-standing drive up window in 1995.

In 1996 Union Bank became a full service operation. Up to then it was a bank for making farm loans. When Union came in, it was the first non-resident banking operation in the city’s history. During this period savings and loan institutions also flourished. The first to locate in Auburn was Falls City Federal Savings and Loan. It was purchased by First Federal-Lincoln and then became Tier One. Several other S&Ls came in but not all survived the economic downturn of the 1980s when inflation bankrupted not only farmers but some other businesses. After the air cleared, the two original family-owned banks plus Union Bank, Tier One and First National Bank of Johnson brought the total number of banks up from two in 1960 to five now.

First National Bank of Johnson (Johnson is a small farming community in the western part of Nemaha County) opened at the location of one of the S&Ls in 1997 and then later built a new facility, including a drive up teller. Tier One has changed from a savings and loan to a full service bank.

A nationally syndicated columnist, Rowland Nethaway, recently summed up the changes in small town business in his attempt to describe our current economy as a “service economy without service”. Here are some of the things he bemoaned.

· “Full-service filling stations now are novelties. Thousands upon thousands of jobs that supported families have been lost.”
· “Where it used to take teams of workers to bring in crops, now most of those jobs have been replaced by big, expensive machines that have automated agri-business on giant farms.”
· “Every city and mid-size town in America once had door-to-door delivery of milk, butter and other dairy products as well as bread, cakes and other bakery products. All those jobs are gone.”
· “Mom and Pop businesses that supported families and formed the backbone of communities across the nation have shut their doors because of the proliferation of mega-discount stores such as Wal-Mart.”

That nearly describes Auburn to a tee, except that we don’t have a Wal-Mart and it fails to recognize the continuing efforts of the community to adjust in the changing economy. As noted, farmers are changing their agri-business methods, but not just by more machinery. Better education and the better use of technology by farmers are also key factors.

Although it is true that certain businesses can no longer survive in the small town, other businesses are developing. One opportunity for local entrepreneurs is a push for additional housing to attract newcomers, taking advantage of the recent trend by city dwellers who want more of the rural “good life.” The pendulum swings and a hopeful attitude for residents of our small towns ride on these changes for a better tomorrow.

Agriculture

From 1959 to 1997 (the last year figures were available) full time farms in Nemaha County dropped from 1,038 to 328. The average farm size increased from 276.8 to 495 acres. The days of needing large families to work the farm no longer exists. Thus children leave, there is no one to take over the home place, and the neighbor buys or rents from the retired older generation.

There is obviously less total acreage in farm production than forty years ago. But the decline in farm population (fewer but larger farms) is not the only cause because government programs have encouraged farmers to take land out of production.

In 1960 the support price for corn was $1.03 per bushel, not far from the figure for 2000 while prices for land and machinery have escalated exponentially. Advanced technology has been both a boon and a bite for farmers. As they increased yields through better hybrids, narrower rows, and the advent of no till farming (with herbicides and insecticides) farm surpluses mounted. The law of supply and demand held prices down. Yields increased measurably but the total dollars per acre barely kept up with costs of farming.

The situation prompted the federal government to step in and buy huge amounts of grain and either ship it to countries with starving populations or destroy it. Other programs paid farmers for taking land out of production. Over the 40 years of this study it has allowed the American farmer to feed a large portion of the world, but done little to improve the lot of Nemaha County farmers. The result has been that bigger farms are producing more but have seriously damaged the “family farm”. The American consumer has gained from lower food prices, but the American tax payer (basically the same people) has an increased burden by paying for farm subsidies.

Some agricultural institutions have faded from the landscape over these 40 years. In 1960 small feeders brought their cattle to local markets, such as the Dovel Sale Barn in Auburn. In the mid 1960s Carl Dovel sold out and quit. A few small auction barns at Humboldt and Tecumseh still served the small feeder. The bigger feeders went to Omaha to sell on the largest auction in the country. By 1970 Missouri Beef Packers, near Rock Port, Missouri, across the river from Nemaha County, were buying cattle directly on the farm. Their buyers, using radio cars, were able to give instant quotes and provide the beef for their company without the middleman auctioneer. Later, Missouri Beef left the area, but the trend in direct buying signaled the demise of the Omaha Livestock Yards.

The Omaha stockyards are now empty and are being considered for designation on the national list of historic buildings. Feeders now sell almost exclusively to packers directly.

By eliminating the cost of the middleman auctioneer, the new trend in selling cattle was first hailed as a boon to the feeders. But now there is controversy over this practice with concerns that the absence of the “honest broker” (read middleman auctioneer) stifles competition. In hearings before Congress, one feeder said, “We have never seen the market as closed and noncompetitive in the history of our business.” It is also said that supply and demand no longer determine live cattle prices. Instead, feeders believe that prices are increasingly being determined by whether or not packers have large numbers of cattle (owned or under contract) that can be scheduled for slaughter if the supply and demand factors are pushing cattle prices up. The legislation being considered would prohibit packers from owning livestock 14 days before slaughter.

A similar change in hog production also affected Auburn. With corporate ownership of mega-sized hog farms, the small operator was virtually forced out. The local hog buying station, operated by Wilson & Company, closed in March of 1989.

On the other hand, the story on the grain side is a little more encouraging. Not only did government grain programs establish grain bin storage sites to hold the surplus grain it bought, individual farmers were given money to build storage units on their own place. After a certain period of time, and the required amount of grain storage, those bins became the property of the farmer. Eventually the plan worked and the surpluses were gone. The now unneeded structures at the bin sites were sold at auction. They now serve private enterprise and store everything from old cars to furniture. The on-farm bins are now used to temporarily store grain until it can be sold for the best price.

Farm land prices rose to extremes in the 1970s and then dropped off, causing bankruptcies. Although it was much more complicated, essentially what happened was the value of farm land was so high, loans for new equipment were easy to get. When the land prices fell, the collateral decreased and loans were called in. An example of high land prices came in 1976 when the McIninch farms sold for $1,372,000. The top price, for one of the farms, was $1,290 per acre. Later in that decade some farms with good improvements sold for as much as $2,000 acre. From 1970 to 1980 farm land values more than tripled, much more than inflation for the period.

AGRICULTURE: Part Two

Farmers decried the system that did not allow them to set their own prices or even negotiate for them. They were forced to take whatever price was offered by the meat packer or the grain company. When crops were good, supply and demand brought the price down. In a bad year even good prices couldn’t help when there was nothing to sell.

That brought about the National Farmers Organization in 1963, dedicated to organizing the producers to control supply (much like OPEC in the oil business). Other farm groups, the Farmers Union and Farm Bureau, to that point had not taken such a direct approach. So the NFO found recruits for their efforts. Their success was nominal, mainly because farmers are an independent lot and getting them to agree to let any organization dictate when, where, and to whom they could sell their grain was unlikely from the beginning.

In 1977 the NFO organized a march on Washington using tractors to get there. Tractors lined the streets of Auburn as they prepared to make the trip. Thus the organization became more of a political statement than a bargaining unit.

In 1981 a true political approach came about with the organization of the American Agricultural Movement. Corky Jones, a Nemaha County farmer, was involved early on and became national vice president in 1984. He was elected president in 1985 and served three years in that post. The inability of the NFO to be effective on the economic side perhaps fostered the growth of AAM and the emphasis changed to a political focus. Jones later ran for Congress on the AAM platform but did not succeed. And tractor trips continued also.

While farm organizations had dubious results in changing the lot of farmers their ideas may have helped shape today’s modern farmer. By 1982 computers were being used to get information from the University of Nebraska through a site called AgNet. More and more farmers are now college graduates, using new technology and advanced business practices. Local marketing firms are springing up to help the individual do what organizations such as NFO could not. Direct sales of processed meat, such as pork, is now happening here. Although not happening in Nemaha County, some areas of the state are experimenting with diversified activities, such as raising buffalo for meat and building trout farms.

Again, the new trends in agriculture have been both good and bad for the farmers. While he can not make a living on the prices he gets for his product, modern technology has allowed him to get the work done on more acres in less time. That allows him to take on a separate job in a nearby town to help support his family. Between the new marketing procedures, the political process, and other factors, maybe farming can be turned around.

The history of the Farmers Co-op in Auburn mirrors some of the woes of agriculture during the 1980s and 1990s. The organization had flourished as a supplier of fuel and fertilizer for farmers who bought stock in the local cooperative. The stock had little monetary value and dividends were paid in additional stock, but the system provided lower prices for raw materials. Local co-ops were owned by the farmers and they in turn owned the umbrella organization, Farmland Industries.

At the peak of good times Farmland Industries bought eight acres of land at the edge of Auburn with the announced purpose of building a feed manufacturing plant. After some time, the ground was found unsuitable and eventually the project was abandoned. About the same time the farm economy began slipping and the local co-op was feeling the pinch. In an effort to survive, they bought a manufacturing plant that had failed and opened an annex to handle farm products. But things only worsened and by 1998 not only was the Co-op gas station closed down but the annex also.

Cenex, a Minnesota co-op, bought the gas station and Johnson Motors remodeled the annex into a new car showroom and service center.

Farmland Industries, based in Kansas City, Missouri, also started expanding during this period. In addition to oil refineries, feed, and fertilizer they began selling direct- to- consumer products. Whether it was too rapid of an expansion or just the economy, Farmland Industries filed for bankruptcy in 2001. They sold off refineries and other assets in 2003 and were hoping to salvage enough to stay in business strictly with food products.

Signs Of The Times

Gasohol came to Auburn in 1979 when Tiny’s 66 Service offered it. The mixture of a corn based alcohol and gasoline is currently being touted as the answer to high fuel emissions and dependence on foreign oil.

The first radio station opened when Rich Stites went on the air with KAUB in 1981. It later closed down and was purchased by KNCY radio in Nebraska City. While there is still an office in residential Auburn, for all intents and purposes, it serves mainly as an outpost with daily newscasts and an occasional sporting event broadcast.

Perhaps a start of the service economy happened when American Lawn Care opened for business here. Up to this point, a smattering of individuals (mainly teenage boys) offered lawn mowing services. But this business offered chemical applications and landscaping as well as mowing. Because it did not depend on walk in traffic, it was operated out of a home. A number of similar businesses are now operating here.

If lawn care was a start of the service economy, the 1990s saw more established as home occupation licenses were awarded to a variety of businesses, mostly in the computer field. Everything from a business selling forms for use with computer printers to the buying and selling of antiques on line have opened. Pinning down the number of such enterprises is difficult because not all have business phones, or if they do, are not easily identified. One empty storefront was filled in 1985 with a telemarketing firm that employs a number of people yet today.

Other signs of the times came in 1996 when LT&T, the “phone company”, moved their district manager out of Auburn and subsequently shut down their office here. The national trend in telecommunications mergers was seen here as the larger company eliminated jobs by using sophisticated electronic systems at larger service centers. Not too long after the phone company left, Peoples Natural Gas also eliminated the local manager and shut down their walk-in office. It was also merged into a larger utility and contact for service now goes to an automated system in Lincoln.

Economy

Even though the rural economy has deteriorated, the ability of Auburn and Nemaha County to keep from slipping even farther into decay can no doubt be attributed to a couple of things. One is the local promotion of industry. Auburn is the home to three major factories and several smaller industrial businesses. Another factor is consistent elected leadership which has encouraged up to date municipal facilities and affordable housing.

While folks over age 50 can remember nickel coffee, it can be instructive for younger people to see what inflation has done to prices over the past 40 years. An ad in the 1958 edition of the Auburn Press Tribune touted pork roast at 39 cents per pound, ground beef at 49 cents, oranges at two pounds for 25 cents, cauliflower for 19 cents per pound and yams at two pounds for 19 cents.

In 1961, Sunday dinner at the Auburn Hotel was $1.20 for a half fried chicken. For the more affluent, turkey or ham was $1.50 a plate. In 1964, the chicken dinner during the week was on special for 75 cents. By 1978, at Wheeler Inn (a more up scale eating establishment) the Thursday night special was $2.75. It went to $2.95 shortly thereafter and by June in the same year it was $3.25 as inflation began to rear its ugly head. The price stayed at $4.75 for a long time, went to $5.25 and continued up to its present figure of $8.95 ($12.95 for certain entrees).

In 1962 you could buy a new Chevrolet Bel-Air six cylinder for $2,250. The V-8 version went for $2,580.

First class postage went to six cents in 1967, which was double the price it had been for many years, but far under the 37 cent stamp of 2003.

The local financial scene mirrored the national economy. Carson National Bank noted their assets in 1919 were $518,369.9l. By 1969, their 50th anniversary, the assets totaled $5,366,076, more than ten times their initial figure.

Neither of the local banks offered interest on checking accounts until competition forced the issue. Even passbook savings brought only two or three per cent. In 1960 a savings by mail offer from American Thrift in Omaha offered four per cent. In 1968 both Carson and Auburn State were promoting certificates of deposit at five per cent. But by 1981 a six month money market account at Auburn State was being offered at 14.68% annual yield. About the same time an Otoe County bank was paying 17.5% for Individual Retirement Accounts in an effort to get into that new government program. The pendulum began to swing and by the turn of the century interest was back down to the four per cent range for CDs and two per cent on passbook savings.

Discovery of minerals in the county brought the hope of prosperity but nothing every materialized in this area.

In 1970 deposits of gypsum were found in the western part of Nemaha County by the University of Nebraska. After the initial announcement no other mention was found in any of the newspapers researched for this piece. Apparently the cost of mining exceeded the prospective return.

Since a producing oil field has existed in neighboring Richardson County for some years, it was not surprising to find interest in the adjacent county. In 1972 test drilling produced dry holes. In 1982 digital testing with instruments, instead of drilling holes, apparently discovered some possibilities. At any rate in 1984 Coastal Oil and Gas of Denver, Colorado, filed papers in the county indicating the intent to drill test wells. Nothing came of any of these ventures and some of the wellheads can still be found on farmsteads in the county.

Energy use also followed national trends. In 1960 the gas company was promoting the use of yard lights (obviously in an effort to increase sales of natural gas). But as the so called energy crisis emerged in the early 1980s the utility took a 180 degree turn and shut off gas to the outdoor lamps as a means of conservation.

Solar energy began to be a big item in the 1980s also. Rooftop panels began to pop up around the county. The use of wood stoves also was popular. Once the price of oil started to rise, however, oil companies around the world began to discover great quantities of oil and the energy crisis quietly subsided.

A further blow to the economy, albeit a minor one, occurred with the announcement in 1995 that the local National Guard armory would be closed in a state-wide restructuring move. Although most of the men who served locally would be transferred to other units, the empty building served to emphasize the decline of small towns. The county, however, stepped in and purchased the structure and made what is now called the Multiplex building. It houses some of the offices from an overcrowded county courthouse. The county also leases out a large part of the building for a wellness center operated by a non-profit private concern.

The Carrot and the Stick

Many improvements have taken place over the years, not only in the private sector but also on the governmental level. One area, however, has created controversy and has yet to be resolved.

The need for, and improvements to, a local airport have had proponents and opponents for a number of years. There are those who say handy air transportation is vital to the luring of industry and other business to rural America. Opponents say the need is overstated and the cost is too high. Others say that if the need can be documented then the cost ought to be shared by the whole county instead of Auburn alone, which it is now.

In April of 1983 the Auburn city council authorized a study after an engineering firm owned by Richard Snyder told the local board he had expertise in obtaining federal funds. He said a successful application for paved runways could bring 90% federal funds, five per cent from the state and the remaining five per cent from the city. Based on the estimates at the time, the total cost would have approached $750,000, meaning the cost to the city would be $37,500.

In November of 1984 Snyder informed the council the city would have to demonstrate a need for the federal funds. In order to do so they would have to make certain improvements. His plan envisioned a new hangar for $40,000 (all local money) and a new administration building, which could be built with 50% of the money from the state and 50% locally. After all this, the city’s share of the runway paving would be only three per cent, a mere $22,500.

In May of 1985 the council opened bids on a 4-place hangar. The carrot continued to dangle. In July of 1986, the council was told they could improve their chances of getting federal money if they would only authorize funds for land acquisition, since the current runways were not long enough. In November of the same year, Snyder urged the council to continue the project, claiming that he had a verbal commitment from the state aeronautics board “to consider” funding. In 1987 the city finalized negotiations with Dr. C.A. Reid for additional land adjacent to the airport.

In 1989 a low bid of $98,500 was received for grading, seeding and fencing at the airport with the cost being shared by the state and city. In 1991 an engineer was hired to apply for federal funds for the long sought after paved runways.

In July of 1993 the council was asked to request additional funding. They had been tentatively allowed $200,000 for asphalt paving but bids came in over that amount and were turned down. Councilwoman Mary Kruger asked that additional funds be allocated so they could go for concrete paving. Not only did the additional funds fail to get council approval, the original request for $200,000 rescinded.

Efforts to pursue the project continued in 1995 and it received the endorsement of the Auburn chamber of commerce. In July the city council voted 4-1 to look into forming an airport authority. At the August meeting, however, the proposal was defeated on a vote of 3-2 with four votes needed from the six members (one was absent).

In 1997 Councilwoman Kruger said the ten-year struggle was not worth it since now runway lighting was recommended to secure federal funds. However, in September of that year 4,000 feet of runway lighting was installed at a cost of $55,000 with the local Board of Public Works doing most of the work. Actual out of pocket cost to the city was 20%.

The struggle continued on. In 2003 the city council finally voted to form an airport authority and it is currently being organized. The irony of the airport saga is that Nebraska City applied for funds in the late 1990s to build a new airport and within a comparatively short time had approval. The new facility, about 15 miles north of Auburn and five miles south of Nebraska City, is now in use.

Affordable Housing

One of the things emphasized throughout the past 40 years was the need for affordable housing, not only for the ever increasing elderly population, but to attract new industry. In 1960 not one such housing facility was available. The Avenue Apartments, an old hotel converted to permanent living units, and the Grand Central Hotel were about the only commercial living units. Later conversions of large homes and two small hospitals provided some rental apartments.

In August, 1965 federal funds became available and in 1968 Valley View Homes, now commonly called the Hi-Rise Apartments, were dedicated. The money was made available through a federal organization, now called Housing and Urban Development. The apartments are administered by a local housing authority. Rent is based on income.

Next to come was a nursing home built by the Good Samaritan Society. Its construction was aided by $70,000 raised locally. It was dedicated in November, 1967 as a 68 bed nursing home. It was expanded to 75 beds in 1969 and again in 1987 to 114 beds.

Good Sam, being a care center, is not considered in the affordable housing pool but it is included as a facility that adds to the local housing mix.

A number of different funding methods have been used in the building of apartments. The Hi-Rise was all federal money and so was the next venture, Crestview Square. These 28 units, at a cost of $395,000, were built near the new shopping center and were designed for low income, not necessarily elderly, renters.

Another boost from the federal government came in 1987 when a grant of $178,500 was provided for home upgrades. Low income home owners could get low interest loans to improve their dwellings. As these loans were paid off, the money was put into a revolving fund for others to use.

Two more apartment complexes were built in the mid 1990s with federal funds. Sheridan Apartments (1993) in mid town and Westbury Heights (1994), near Good Sam, provide income-based rental units. At Westbury, residents must be age 62 or over or handicapped.

The availability of federal funds attracted large contractors into the business. A combination of HUD’s money, the contractor, and local organizations all go together to form a housing partnership. South Glen apartments and Auburn Village have been built in the past ten years. Currently a 16-unit facility, called Terrace Heights, was expected to be finished by October, 2003.

All of these are income-based rentals with government subsidies making up the difference in some cases. Some partnerships had government low interest loans issued to fund the building of their facility, but do not get rental subsidies.

The Good Samaritan Society has now opened another facility, called Longs Creek Village, which provides assisted living in 24 apartments for those who need less help than a nursing home.

In addition to converted buildings for apartments, other privately financed conventional complexes have also been built. The Witzenburg Apartments on Q Street and Country Side on Central Avenue are two examples.

So from two buildings designed for apartments in 1960, Auburn now has the original two, two conventional and seven income-based complexes, plus two care centers. The income-based facilities now total 129 units and the two care centers house up to 138 patients.

Annexations and Additions

Over the years Auburn has expanded through annexations of surrounding areas, thus the naming of particular sections, such as Nixon’s First Addition, Howe and Nixon’s Addition, and others. During the past 40 odd years most of the additions have been small, with the exception of Crestview.

In 1964 Highland Addition came in and several homes were built just south of 16th and H Streets. Later, a much larger subdivision was added south of that area called Brookridge Terrace. In 1966 some new homes just off 26th Street were built by a developer, Clyde Hagar. The subdivision was annexed and is called Hagar’s Addition.

The largest addition in the modern era came in 1967 when Crestview was developed as a residential area followed by a shopping center dedicated in 1974.

Also in 1974 an area east of F Street and south of Highway 136 was annexed but later was subjected to “de-annexation” when heirs owning the property objected by claiming the land was still strictly agricultural. In the 1990s the same property was purchased, developed and brought into the city and is called Sheridan Crossing. It now has a half dozen new homes.

Small additions have come in during the 1990s, mainly to accommodate new housing. An area was brought in northwest of town to accommodate the Good Samaritan organization in building Longs Creek Village, an assisted living project. In the same area a new church is currently under construction in an addition called Glenrock. An old part of town nearby (Grandview) had never been annexed and was brought in recently with new paving to connect these two areas to Highway 136. The Glenrock Addition has building sites for sale but no homes on it yet.

Some other areas came in during 2003 with little addition of population. They include Skaggs Industrial Site, Pine Ridge, and Westgate. Terrace Heights includes the new 16 unit housing west of town in the Good Sam area. Pine Ridge has three or four homes, Westgate one, and Skaggs none.

None of the town’s industries have been annexed. The two north of the city are not contiguous, but are getting closer with the annexation the Longs Creek property. Unwritten assurances that they would remain outside the city limits were given as an incentive to locate here. Annexation of the Auburn Consolidated Industries and the old Danny Dare site has been politically “untouchable”. A motion to annex them by the city council in 1969 was killed. ACI’s original firm, Auburn Machine Works, was the subject of annexation before 1960 but a threat to move the company out of town squelched that action.

A Dog Named Rusty

1992-2007



This has nothing to do with growing up in a small town. We live in the 'burbs, now. Have since 1978. But dogs, and the children that love them, are universal, whether or not you live in the smallest city or the biggest village.


So here's the story of Rusty, the Wonderdog. No one knows how Rusty got his nickname. He never pulled Timmy from a well, barked until all the children fled the burning house, or crawled 1600 miles across the tundra to rejoin his family after being left for lost at a truck stop in North Platte.


He did, one Saturday morning, come get me out of bed when Jo, fetching the paper, slipped and fell on the ice and lay flat on her back on the cold driveway in her nightgown and twisted ankle. But that was long after he had the nickname.


Rusty was a found dog, which is the best of breeds. I was away on business one summer's day when the kids coaxed him out from under their cousin's porch over in DeSoto. I called home to tell Jo that I was going to find a motel in Rossville because the project was running a little long. The kids, then 7, 5, and 3, all shouted into the phone, "Can we keep him?"


Now, I had a cat or two when I was growing up. My wife had a dachshund named Cindy all through school. So, as grown-ups, we were at loggerheads over larger pets. (Much like the Methodist-Lutheran thing until that got resolved). But a found dog is a gift to children not to be trifled with.

When I got home from Rossville, the dog was still at our cousin's. I told the kids it was alright by me if they wanted to keep him. "We've named him Rusty, " they said. "That's good," I said, "because I had a dream last night about a dog named Rusty. "So we checked with the local vet in DeSoto and put up a flyer at the Post Office and grocery store. No one was missing a brown and white mutt.

He was just a puppy when we found him, grew up with the kids, and watched them all turn the corner into adulthood. Never much trouble, didn't bark much, didn't run away much, Rusty was not very social with other dogs but loved his family totally. Rusty's chief duty was to put each of the children to bed, staying with them until they were asleep and then moving off to the next staggered bedtime, finally at the end of the day, crawling under our bed and putting us to sleep.

I don't think that Rusty ever caught a squirrel or a rabbit. He certainly thrilled for the chase, up to the very end, when he was too arthritic to leave the porch. He had given up, some years ago, chasing the birds from the backyard when the crows retaliated with a dive-bombing campaign.

We cried at the end, as all good families should. Dogs are part of God's perfect creation. Rusty's loyalty and devotion, his unconditional love, was a revelation of that truth to us.

Honest John, The Coffee Game

The most long-lasting and recurring event of our almost 50 years in Auburn has been the daily (sometimes twice or more) game to see who buys coffee for the shopkeepers and businessmen who gather each morning and afternoon for a cup of Joe.

When first started in late 1959, the game was played mostly by downtown businessmen (many of them retailers) who opened their stores at 8 a.m. and by 9 o’clock were ready to get a cup of coffee on their way to or from the bank with their daily deposits. The merchant class has practically been eliminated in small towns and the retail establishments that remain are owned by women with a social fabric of their own. Moreover, the stores now open at 10 a.m. So the old pattern no longer exists and women have never been a part of Honest John. Consequently, the current participants are mostly morticians, insurance men, and retirees.

The game was introduced by an insurance man, Dick Miller, who has long since departed. It has been refined over the years, much like contract bridge, with strategies designed to improve ones chance of winning, or in this case, to improve ones chance of not losing.

The game is simple enough. One person writes a concealed number on a paper napkin. The number must be between one and five hundred. It cannot be either one or five hundred--the reason being lost over the years. Each player, starting at the writer’s left, guesses a number. The writer then says whether the number guessed is higher or lower than the one he has written. The guessed number then becomes the new outside boundary. The number-guessing proceeds around the table, progressively honing in on the written number. Assuming that no one makes an unlucky guess (and is “stuck”), when the guesser immediately on the writer’s right picks a number, the writer must take the next higher number (or lower, depending on which direction the guess is from the written number). Thus, if the guess on the writer’s right is one off from the written number, the writer himself can be stuck for coffee on his own number.

Over the years it has become a principle to make an effort to stick the writer. Because of this, the coffee drinkers became reluctant to write the number. So another rule was introduced. Now someone selects a letter of the alphabet and conceals it on a paper napkin. Another coffee drinker selects a letter at random and the alphabet is recited around the table until someone says the concealed letter. The one who picks the letter has to write the number.

This all may seem terribly time consuming but in point of fact it goes quite quickly. The narrowing down of numbers, particularly if the guesser halves what is left, speeds up the process and most mornings, the game takes only four or five minutes of the usual half hour allotted for the coffee time.

Many stories have come out of the coffee game--inept players, complicated strategies, intentional “sticking” of a player, and the like.

One of the earliest ruses was using a pre-set number to stick a newcomer to the game. For instance, the regulars knew that 123 would be used if an out-of-towner sat in on the game. They would then maneuver the guessing so that when the newcomer’s time came, either the next logical guess would be 123 or, better yet, that would be the only choice left.

Most of those who had to pay for coffee under these circumstances figured they had been “had” but they all took it gracefully.

During one political season a candidate for congress sat in on coffee and was promptly stuck with the pre-set number. He left thinking he had chosen the wrong number but happy enough to buy coffee for some potential voters. The next day his opponent was treated the same way. However, the opponent knew he had been hoodwinked and volunteered to pay for coffee the next day if he was told how it was done. It was generally agreed the second candidate would get our vote since he at least knew he had been duped.

The set up backfired occasionally and eventually caused the pre-set number to be abandoned. One day a county commissioner came to coffee for the first time. The pre-set number was invoked. Floyd Pohlman, now deceased but mayor at the time, wrote 123 and we proceeded to play the game. We were not able to arrange for the commissioner to get the number the first time around but sufficient room was left to do it on the next. However, Gene Ely, also now deceased, was sitting at Floyd’s immediate right and he guessed 122. That required Floyd to take 123 and he was stuck for the coffee. Obviously he couldn’t complain because that would compromise the set up. Later, Ely swore he was not aware of the pre-set number. He was not a regular regular but had been to coffee a number of times so we thought he knew the fix was in. His reputation as a practical joker did not help to convince us he was not trapping Floyd but he maintained his innocence to the grave.

As the years passed and participants changed, the pre-set number was used less and less. Our group had gotten the reputation for managing to stick a newcomer and so they avoided us. And some wags thought it would be funny to repeat the Floyd Pohlman ruse and intentionally force one of the regulars into paying.

A rule that developed over time was that if the writer forgot his number and the game proceeded past the point where the high or low designation was incorrect, the writer became automatically stuck. Further refinement decreed that the writer was allowed only one peek at his concealed number. Many players become flustered and do indeed forget what they have written. One man, Delbert Otis, also now deceased, was so concerned about forgetting the number he would always write easy-to-remember numbers such as 111, 222, 333, and so on. After a while his pattern became obvious and whenever he had to write, he would be easy to stick. He would play for days without writing and seldom have to buy coffee. But then he would get the letter and when he wrote would promptly be stuck. He would stay away for days at a time after having to buy but then would come back for free coffee until his well-known idiosyncrasy did him in, again. He never did catch on.

Delbert was not the only one to have difficulty in remembering a number. Roy Steinheider had a penchant for nines and sevens--mostly nines. If he wrote, most of the players knew the number would end in nine or seven and avoid them. After getting stuck several times in a row, Roy might rarely change but then he would soon revert to his old habits and we could rely on free coffee when he wrote.

In order to avoid being a victim of habitual tendencies like Roy, Floyd Pohlman used to select numbers from his surroundings. A number just rung up on a cash register, the phone number on a passing truck advertisement or last Saturday’s Nebraska football score would be things he used. His tendency to avoid tendencies hurt him in the long run since the group caught on to it and many times figured out what cue he had used for his number.

Even though there is honor among thieves, self preservation can be a factor in a player’s decision making. Many years ago, Roy Casey, the patriarch of the Casey Funeral Home family, had to write the number and he happened to be sitting next to his nephew, Fred Kiechel (an attorney, but at that time, I believe, manager of Auburn Machine Works) Roy was not too careful in concealing the number and Fred saw it. When the game progressed with no one picking the number and it was Fred’s turn, he chose the one that would require Roy to take the adjacent number and that was that. After Roy fumed a while about getting stuck, Fred admitted he saw the number. Roy indicated he was abashed to think his own nephew would take advantage like that but Fred answered, “I just said to myself, what would Uncle Roy do?” Both these gentlemen have passed on but the story is repeated as each new member is initiated into the unofficial coffee drinkers club.

Rev. Gordon Patterson, as did many ministers through the years, frequented the coffee hour. Dale Stuck, an employee of the funeral home, but now deceased, did not believe in following any guidelines with regard to honor. He maintained the object of the game was to not get stuck--not the time-honored tradition of sticking the writer or the out-of-towner. Consequently he might cut two numbers off in front of someone and stick them. This was considered inappropriate by most of the regulars.

Another unwritten rule was that a person with a birthday the day of the game would pay for coffee even though he did not lose. The birthday was not usually announced until the game had been played and the loser would be “taken off the hook.” Dale had cut off two in front of Rev. Pat and stuck him two days in a row and it was all the good Reverend could do to keep his temper. The third day, Dale did it again but this time the number he chose was the one written and he stuck himself. Rev. Pat was avenged, but only briefly, when he had to announce it was his birthday and had to pay. The minister was overheard to say, under his breath but loud enough for most to understand, “There’s no damn justice!”

On some occasions, elaborate plans would be made ahead of time by two players who would conspire to stick a particular individual just to listen to them howl.

With regard to buying on one’s birthday, a pattern began to evolve that added some interest to the game. The one with the birthday would play the game completely without honor, such as cutting two off in front of someone. After listening to the complaints for a while, he would then admit to the birthday and the required buyer would be relieved of the responsibility.

Some of the players were not as regular as others and they had a tendency to distrust the diehards who never missed. They thought they might be the subject of subterfuge so they devised methods of circumvention. One fellow, Dan Favero, who was an intern at the newspaper office, would go outside to write if he had to pick a number. Jim Grant Jr., was so sure he was being conned he wrote a letter and a number and put it in his pocket before he came to the café to insure secrecy.

Ross Speece, superintendent of schools at the time, got stuck so many times in a row he became desperate. He would deliberately try to get stuck by picking an obvious number, such as 250. He figured his luck was so bad there would be no way he could pick the right number. It worked. At least he thought it did because his streak ended.

Alan Casey said he lay awake one night and came up with a method that would make it impossible for the gang to stick him. He volunteered to write the number and he promptly got stuck in one round of guessing.

During one period the coffee group met at Smokey Briar’s cafe. There was a large table in the front with a huge wall calendar right along side. Whoever got stuck would be noted on that square in the calendar and at the end of the month a total would be taken to see who got stuck the most. As it turned out there was little difference in the number of times any one individual had to pay. The odds of being stuck pretty well averaged out evenly for those who played the game regularly. Bob Hemmingsen, a retail clothing store owner now deceased, had a terrible month, however, and at one point refused to come to coffee for a time because his luck was so bad. Even though he was a reasonable man and understood probability, Bob plainly became frustrated at not being able to be in control of this silly game.

At this same coffee shop Bob Blankenship, also deceased, set a record which stands to this day. It was common practice at the time to charge ten cents for the first cup of coffee and a nickel for a refill. Those who had time stayed for the refill and played another game to see who paid. Some, with more time on their hands than others, would even play a third game for a sack of peanuts. One day Bob got stuck for all three games but one wag claimed someone else had accomplished this feat so they agreed to play a fourth game for cigars. Bob got stuck a fourth time and has the distinction of holding the record for the most losses at one sitting.

Tom Adamson, another deceased player, was a regular but his insurance job moved him to Lincoln. He still had clients in Auburn and periodically would be in town and make it to the game. He also found himself on a losing streak and he got stuck four days in a row. He declared very seriously to the assembled group, “Actuarially, that’s not possible!”

As noted earlier, part of the fun was to get someone other than regulars to pay for coffee (known as “out-of-town money”). A newcomer happened to get the letter and was forced to write. Since the pre set number could not be used, a player next to the writer took a peek and signaled what he had written to the players on the opposite side. He did this by flashing the numbers one at a time behind the newcomer’s head. Dean Niemann, another deceased regular, took the number right next to the one flashed so the player next to the writer could force him to take his own figure. The best laid plans don’t always work. Dean either misread the signal or the sneak peek was not a good read. In any event, the number Dean picked was it and he got stuck. Again, no complaint could be made without disclosing the intended ruse. Later, when the stranger was gone, the argument over who as at fault raged for several sessions.

False signals again created embarrassment, this time between a high school principal and his superintendent. As it is customary to buy coffee on one’s birthday, one day Alan Casey announced (before most of the crowd arrived) that it was the birthday of a member of the group who was expected but had not yet arrived. He knew this, he said, because he had been invited to the fellow’s birthday party that night. Marvin Gerdes, principal at Auburn high school, was present for the announcement and later Superintendent Albert Austin (Marv’s boss) came in and sat next to him. The supposed birthday boy, a fund raiser for Peru State College, came in and the game proceeded. When it came Marv’s turn to guess he took two off in front of Albert, figuring to get a rise out of him but confident the Peru man would take the buyer off the hook because of his birthday. As it happened, the number did in fact stick Albert. Everyone in on the knowledge of the birthday let him stew awhile, waiting for the fund raiser to offer to buy. But that didn’t happen. We found out later his birthday wasn’t until later in the week. The birthday party was moved up since some invitees were unable to attend on his real birthday. He was oblivious to some of the strange looks around the table when he didn’t own up as everyone had expected. It is not known whether Marv’s later move out of the education field had anything to do with the incident.

Over almost 50 odd years the game has been played at some eight restaurants. It started out at Smokey Briar’s on the south side of Central Avenue downtown. The hotel coffee shop was used, mainly as an afternoon session but it burned down. After Smokey shut down, the group moved across the street to Marie’s Cafe and were there for a number of years. For a time the gang also met at Wheeler Inn when it opened as a drive-in but before it was converted to a steak house. When Marie’s went out of business, The Corner Kitchen became the meeting place but it also succumbed and Kelly’s Cafe became the site. All these locations, except for Wheeler’s, were within a couple blocks of each other downtown. After Kelly’s burned down in 2000, the game moved to Darling’s Cafe on the north end of town on Highway 75. At this writing the coffee group has returned downtown to a new place called The Avenue Cafe.

As observed earlier, many of the players are now deceased and the current membership is more diverse. At one time most of the coffee drinkers were from downtown businesses. That prompted the late J.R. “Red” Childers, an outspoken auto parts dealer located on the highway, to dub the group, “the Stoplight Gang.” The one and only stoplight in Auburn is at the intersection of two highways downtown. Red felt much of the politics of the city was handled by this group, as is the case in most small towns, because business owners held positions of influence in city government, chamber of commerce, civic clubs, and churches.

Today the remaining players are fewer and come from mostly non-retail establishments. It is easier to write about those players who have passed on since they can no longer object to what is said about them. The current crop is composed of two working and one retired morticians, a retired lumber yard manager who works part time at the funeral home, two insurance men who work in the same office, an owner of an office supply/computer business, and this writer.

These current players have many of the same idiosyncrasies exhibited by the earlier cast of characters. Many of them use a number derived from that day’s discussion to help them remember what number they wrote. For instance, the score of the most recent sports event talked about comes into play quite often. Another more obscure device was used by Rich Vlach. The talk was about construction work being done on Highways 75 and 136 so he added them together an used 211 for his number. Bob Engles, one of the insurance men involved, conforms to a different pattern. He always picks a number from 490 to 499. Everybody at the table knows he does this but even though his odds are one in ten for being stuck, he probably doesn’t lose any more often than others.

A recent incident points up how having to write the number can cause a person to become confused. Ben Hall, co-owner of the funeral home and a relatively recent player, was the writer and chose 112. The game progressed until only three guessers were left and the numbers 111, 112 and 113 remained. Rich Jansen (one of the insurance men) was the first guesser and he took 111. At that point, Ben handed the napkin, on which the number was concealed, to Bob Engles, the other insurance man, who was next in line and said, “One-twelve is the number, thanks Bob”. Bob, of course, pointed out there were two numbers left and he would choose 113, so Ben was stuck on his own number. Making obvious mistakes like that is not uncommon, even for old hands at the game.

Each player has his own method in an attempt to keep from paying. As a former Army artillery man I like to use the over and under style in guessing to “bring fire on the target” quickly and efficiently. I get razzed for it but using that method, which I think increases the odds of narrowing down the number and getting it back to the writer. I also espouse the theory that one should always split on the high side--never change ends if splitting is not feasible. All of these theories are just that--theories--and the real key is consistency. If you play the same way all the time the odds are better, much as a baseball manager uses his team’s tendencies in planning his strategy.

Under One Roof

The Move to Auburn

Ken’s Story
We moved from Stanton to Auburn in the fall of 1959, into a small house on the corner of 15th and M Streets. The house was rented for us by my boss, the publisher of the Auburn Newspapers, for the sum of $65 per month. One of my motivations for moving to Auburn was the better pay. Most of my salary increase went into that rent.

Sam’s Version
It wasn’t a bad little house, a little drafty, but not too bad at all. We had a great big old tractor tire for a sand box. The neighbors were a little odd, but having come from Stanton that was no big deal. I felt a little like Dennis the Menace completely surrounded by Old Mr. Wilsons. The house across the street had an oval window and the old maid teacher up the street drove a 1932 Chrysler.

700 Sixteenth

Ken’s Story
In 1960 we moved into another rental house at 700 16th Street, out on the edge of town. Because the new house had a formal dining room, Mother bought us a used dining suite - table, chairs, and a buffet. She paid $45. Twenty years later our daughter, Kay, and her husband had the whole suite refinished at a cost of more than $1000. Another twenty-five years later and it’s still in use. A comparable suite today would probably run five grand.

Sam’s Version
What a house! Big rooms with steam heat and lots of closet space to hide in. A huge yard and porch. The empty lot across the street had a real baseball diamond laid out on it and even old benches to sit on. Across the street in the other direction was an old farm house with a grape arbor and lots of interesting places to hide.

Hiding seems to have been a theme of mine in those days. Might have something to do with the infamous swan experiment. Now let’s see, what would happen if you sat in a dark closet with an inflatable pink plastic pool toy and a sharp pin? I was somewhat startled by the results. The answer is this, you make your sister cry.

The best thing about the house on 16th Street was that it was owned by the local mortician. The funeral home was next door. Kay and I would take turns running the rent check over to the office. We had to practice being solemn and quiet in case there were dead people in the parlor.

The Shop

Ken’s Story
Janice worked for about six months as a fill-in linotype operator at the newspaper. Her stint as an operator provided some good humor (not at the time, of course, but funny now).

One incident happened like this. One of the newspaper’s country correspondents wrote out her copy in long hand. It was a tedious portrayal of who-visited-who that week, page after page after page. When Janice finished setting the type, she added a remark at the bottom. “Thank God, the end, Amen.” She expected the proof reader would enjoy the comment and then mark the line for deletion. Either through lax editing, or pure orneriness, the comment did not get deleted. The paper’s entire readership was treated to the barb. The publisher did not appreciate the humor. He was of the old school and thought a woman’s place was in the home - not on a linotype.

Sam’s Version
The Auburn Newspapers gave me my very first paying job. The paper published “Funeral Notices” for the two local mortuaries. These were small black-bordered cards with the name of the deceased, the time and place of the funeral, and a very brief obituary. For 50¢ I delivered Funeral Notices to all the local businesses. The store owner would place them on the counter for customers to read. Since the newspaper was published only on Tuesday and Friday, the Funeral Notice was a far more trustworthy method of drawing mourners than the newspaper’s sometimes tardy obituary.

My sister soon joined me in this little delivery business. We would take turns running to the “shop”, as everyone called the newspaper office, after school to see if anyone had died. It was a good day for undertakers and delivery boys when two stacks of black-bordered cards were setting on the glass counter - a whole dollar for the same amount of walking as fifty cents. That bought a lot of Circus Peanuts.

When I say we delivered funeral notices to all the businesses in town, I meant only the respectable retail stores and cafes. Not the bowling alley, pool hall, or taverns. The newspaper also printed sale bills for the local auction house, primarily advertisements for upcoming estate sales. For a very profitable $1.50 we delivered these also, and got to go into the pool hall, to boot. I guess the theory was that the folks in the tavern probably wouldn’t go to the funeral, but they just might show up at the estate sale to bid on a box of used hand tools.

We delivered funeral notices and sale bills not only in the four-block area of downtown Auburn, but we had to walk all the way up Courthouse Avenue and deliver to the businesses in South Auburn around the courthouse square. It was quite a job for a fourth or fifth grader and we were quite proud of the responsibility. Being a patronage position, we held on to the job well into high school, long after teenage tastes outstripped the revenue stream.