Losing Gene had been difficult for everyone. A family is like a puzzle, and now there was a big piece missing. There would always be an empty space.
Seven months later, Norma gave birth to a little girl named Linda. And the good news was the baby wasn’t nervous at all, and Macky came home safe and sound.
* * *
THE WHOLE TOWN’S TALKING
* * *
by Mrs. Ida Jenkins
The whole town’s talking about the attractive new stand-up console television set in the display window at Morgan Brothers.
Also happy to report that the annual Easter egg hunt was made special this year by the personal appearance of the Easter Bunny, who delighted the children.
Thank you to all who came early and hid the eggs. Lots of pretty polka dot and striped pails were supplied by Warrens’ Hardware. Don’t forget, next week the pony man comes to town, so be sure to get your child’s picture taken on the pony. I still have one of Norma and on that very same pony, I believe.
Now that Easter is past, time to gear up for Mother’s Day. Next week, the Garden Club is preparing to make corsages for all of our mothers and grandmothers out at Happy Acres Nursing Home.
You know I do not like to be the town naysayer…but…I saw the new Western movie High Noon, starring Gary Cooper as a sheriff, with the beautiful Miss Grace Kelly taking the role of Mr. Cooper’s long-suffering wife, while in reality, Miss Kelly should have been cast as his daughter. Here is my question: Who is doing the casting for these films coming out of Hollywood lately? Methinks it must be old men, blinded by a lot of wishful thinking. I do not recommend this film for that reason.
Also hate to end on another sad note, but we lost our beloved citizen Olaf Olsen last Wednesday. Condolences to his wife, Helga Olsen, and his daughter, Beatrice Swensen. Our younger readers may not remember Olaf, but for those of us who grew up seeing his friendly face in Morgan Brothers’ shoe department, he will be sorely missed.
* * *
Ida failed to mention that the Easter Bunny had been her sister, Elner Shimfissle, dressed in a homemade bunny outfit with big fluffy ears and feet.
In November of 1952, Katrina’s younger brother, Olaf Olsen, came up to Still Meadows and was overjoyed to see Katrina again. He said, “Katrina, you wouldn’t recognize the dairy anymore. It’s so big.”
“How is my darling niece, Beatrice? Still happy?”
“Oh, yes. She and Ander are doing so well and so is the dairy. I think they are the richest people in town. They live in a big two-story brick house. Can you imagine, Katrina? From where we came from, so poor, and now one of our family owns the biggest house in town with heat and hot and cold running water. Wouldn’t Momma be so proud? And you won’t believe this….After I retired, Helga wanted to move back to the country, so we moved into your old farmhouse.”
“Oh, Olaf, I’m so glad. I was afraid somebody might have torn it down.”
“Oh, no…it can never be torn down. You know how Ander loved you and Lordor. He pulled a lot of strings and had that house declared a state historical monument. He said, ‘I had so many happy times in that house, I couldn’t bear to lose it.’ ”
“Oh, what a sweet boy.”
“He is. And did you know that you now have a grandniece named Hanna Marie?”
“Yes, it’s wonderful.”
“Yes it is….The sad thing is, Katrina, she was born deaf.”
“So I was told, the poor angel.”
“But I must say, she does very well in spite of it. I know she’s my granddaughter, and I’m prejudiced. But Katrina, I think that little girl really is an angel. A real one. There’s just something about her. She has this way. You can’t help but love her.”
Just then, Gene Nordstrom called out, “Hey, Uncle Olaf! Guess who this is.”
Olaf called back, “You don’t fool me. It’s my nephew, Gene Nordstrom, with the big giant feet….”
“That’s me. Glad you’re here, Uncle Olaf.”
—
AND WHAT OLAF SAID about Ander was true. He had idolized Lordor, and had learned everything he knew from him. One afternoon, when Ander was about sixteen, he and Lordor had been headed over to the barn at milking time, when Lordor said, “Ander, I’m going to tell you the secret of what makes for a good dairy farmer.”
Ander was all ears. “Yes, sir?”
“Are you ready?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Keep your cows happy, and they will make you happy.”
“Oh…but how, Mr. Nordstrom?”
“Just like with women, Ander. Every day, tell them they are beautiful. Watch.” Lordor walked over to a big red cow grazing in the meadow. “Ah, there is my beautiful Sally. Ah, you are looking so pretty today, my love.” The cow raised her head up, batted her eyes, and followed Lordor right into the barn, swishing her tail as she went. No question. Lordor had a way with cows.
Ander never forgot it. When he took over the dairy, he’d instructed all his workers to name every cow and tell her she was beautiful daily. Even when they had to switch to milking machines, Ander invested in top-of-the-line machines and the most comfortable ones for the cows. He also instructed the workers to stay and talk to the cows while they were being milked. It must have worked, because the dairy’s production numbers kept going up.
In 1950, when Ander had a professional logo designed for all the products, it was a colorful portrait of a pretty red cow with long, curly eyelashes wearing a Swedish lace hat. Underneath the picture was a quote:
SALLY THE SWEDISH COW SAYS, “YA, IT TASTES JUST LIKE FROM THE OLD COUNTRY.”
(Only the finest milk and cheese products provided directly to you, courtesy of the happy cows in Elmwood Springs, Missouri.)
1952
Robert Smith, the pharmacist at the drugstore, had a young son named Bobby. And Bobby, along with all the other kids in town it seemed, had a sweet tooth, so anytime he had a nickel, he would run into the bakery and get two doughnuts, one maple and one chocolate-covered with sprinkles.
The bakery was now completely back to normal, but at home, Gerta Nordstrom still had not moved Gene’s things out of his room. One night that summer, when they were sitting out on the porch after dinner, Ted said, “You know, little Bobby Smith was in again this afternoon. He sure is a cute kid.”
“Oh, he is. He reminds me of Gene at that age.”
“Yeah…anyhow…I got to thinking that he might just get some good use out of Gene’s old baseball glove, and maybe the basketball. They’re just going to waste, sitting in his closet like that.” Tears sprang to Gerta’s eyes at the thought of parting with any of Gene’s things. But her husband reached over and took her hand and said, “It’s time, honey…and I think that’s what Gene would have wanted.”
She nodded. “All right…if that’s what you think.”
“I do.”
—
THE NEXT MORNING, ON his way to work, Ted walked over to the Smith house with a big cardboard box. When Dorothy Smith came to the door, he said, “I’m leaving a few things I thought Bobby might get some use out of.”
Dorothy opened the screen door and called out, “Oh, thank you, Ted. I know he will.”
When Bobby saw the box, he was thrilled. He grabbed the metal toy car first. “Wow! Look at this,” he said to his mother. “It has real rubber wheels!”
—
ANOTHER SUMMER ROLLED AROUND, and up at Still Meadows the smell of freshly mowed grass was so pleasant; as Gene Nordstrom noted, “It’s especially pleasant when you aren’t the one having to mow it.” Everybody everywhere, above and below, loved summer. Out on the hill, the clouds were so pretty. They looked like big balls of white cotton floating by.
During these beautiful warm days, Beatrice would often take little Hanna Marie out to the farm to visit with Elner. Elner kept big, fat chickens in her yard that she spoiled by feeding cornbread and milk, so she always had lots of baby chicks on hand for Hanna Marie to see.
Today, when
Beatrice and Elner were sitting out on her big screened-in back porch watching Hanna Marie laughing and playing in the yard, Beatrice said, “Oh, Elner, she just breaks my heart. She’s so happy out here with you, but when we take her to the park, she tries so hard to talk to the other children, but she can’t. After a while, they just move away from her, and she doesn’t understand, and I can’t even explain to her why.”
January 1953
Dwight D. Eisenhower had just been sworn in as the new president of the United States, and former president Harry S. Truman, and his wife, Bess, were on a train from Washington, D.C., headed back home to Missouri.
Several days later, a group of Elmwood Springs ladies drove up to Independence and were among the fifteen hundred cheering people who stood outside the Truman family home at 219 North Delaware Street to welcome them back.
Although Ida was a Republican and had voted for Thomas E. Dewey, she joined them. She had not appreciated the way people in Washington had called Truman a country bumpkin and made fun of his blunt Missouri accent. “They are the ones with the accents,” she said.
As she was standing there in the crowd, waiting for the Trumans to return, Ida thought to herself: “Thank God it’s January and Elner is wearing her long winter coat. There’s no telling what she is wearing underneath. But she has on that old ratty black hat. Now she wears a hat!” Norma’s wedding had been a formal afternoon affair, and Elner had been the only lady there without a hat. “Elner never did understand occasion,” thought Ida. She often wondered whether blood really was thicker than water…or if maybe she had been adopted.
With her fox furs and new alligator purse, snakeskin shoes, and long brown leather gloves, Ida was adorned from top to bottom with the remnants of a number of dead animals, and she felt swell and elegant. Ida, a slave to fashion, would have draped a kangaroo over her shoulders if she had seen it in Glamour or Harper’s Bazaar magazine. Beatrice, on the other hand, who could afford anything she wanted, remained conservative in her dress, in a neat black suit with a white satin collar and had, unlike Ida, let her hair go gray around the temples.
Finally, the long wait was over, and the Trumans arrived. They walked through the cheering crowd up to their front porch and stood there and waved to everyone. Bess Truman shielded her eyes from the flashes going off and squinted over toward the group from Elmwood Springs, then called out, “Is that Elner Shimfissle I see over there?”
Elner called back, “Hi, Bess! Welcome home!”
Bess punched Harry in the ribs. “Look, Harry, it’s Elner Shimfissle.”
He looked over and saw her and smiled. “Hey, Elner, good to see you.”
“You, too, Harry!” yelled Elner. “Welcome back to Missouri!”
Ida was dumbstruck and turned and stared at Elner like she had never seen her before in her life. Finally, when she could speak, she asked, “How do you know Harry and Bess Truman?”
Elner, still waving her white handkerchief in the air, said, “Oh…they stopped by the farm once.”
“Why? Why would they stop at your farm?”
Elner looked at her and said, “Well, why wouldn’t they?”
—
WHEN THEY GOT BACK into the car, Ida turned to Elner, somewhat irritated. “Elner, why didn’t you ever tell me you knew the Trumans?”
Elner shrugged her shoulders and said, “You never asked.”
Ida sat in a stunned state of silence all the way home, and it tickled Elner to death. She didn’t tell Ida that Harry and Bess had stopped at her farm for the same reason that everybody else had. They had been lost. Thanks to that bad turn on the road to Joplin, she had met some of the nicest people.
The real truth was it had never occurred to Elner that the Trumans would even remember her. It had been years earlier, long before he was president. But Elner had not taken into account how many people in their lifetimes the Trumans would meet who had a blind possum named Calvin Coolidge that ate ice cream out of a dish at the table, and a three-legged banty rooster. And then there were the fig preserves she’d sent them every year. Harry had been a farmer and during those troubled years in the White House, those preserves had made him think of home.
But then, Elner had never told Ida about meeting Bonnie and Clyde, either. Or that she’d given them directions right to Herbert’s bank and told them to tell him that Elner sent them. Thank heavens they hadn’t gone there and held it up or she would never have heard the end of it.
As upset as Ida was over the Truman affair, her next column had this glowing thing to say:
* * *
THE WHOLE TOWN’S TALKING
* * *
by Mrs. Ida Jenkins
This week, the whole town’s talking about our recent motor trip to Independence to welcome home our longtime family friends, former president Harry Truman and his wife, Bess, from his stint in Washington, D.C., and add our “Well done, Harry” sentiments.
* * *
In her weekly column, Ida had sounded like everything was hunky-dory, but she was still very upset with Elner. As she told her husband, “My one chance to hobnob with notables, and she doesn’t even tell me she knew the Trumans. If I had known that, I would have been sitting up at the White House having tea with them within the week.”
Herbert asked, “How would you do that?”
“Easy. You know me. I would have gotten myself up to Washington, D.C., as fast as I could, knocked on the door, and said I was Elner’s sister and just dropped by to say hello.”
He laughed. “Oh, Ida.”
“You may laugh, but I guarantee you that before I left that day, I would have gotten you a high-ranking position with the government, an ambassadorship, if nothing else. But no. All Elner said was, ‘You never asked,’ and here we sit, stuck in Elmwood Springs, Missouri, when who knows how far we could have gone. I could just strangle her.”
Herbert looked at his wife and shook his head in sheer amazement. He smiled and said, “Honey, you’re wonderful. Crazy, but wonderful.”
1954
Eight-year-old Hanna Marie Swensen was taken to Springfield twice a week to learn sign language. Beatrice and Ander would often sit in on the lessons and learn signing as well, so they could talk to their daughter.
Signing was harder for Ander, with his big, beefy hands, but he tried. He’d practiced over and over, and on Hanna Marie’s eighth birthday, he surprised her by signing, “You are the most beautiful girl in the world.” Ander didn’t know it, but he had signed, “You are the most beautiful squirrel in the world.” Hanna Marie had giggled at his mistake and hugged his neck. She loved her daddy.
Ander had a particular interest in mentoring young people, as Lordor had before him. Every summer, Ander trained all the young 4-H Club members how to care for and raise cows properly. Many grew up and worked for him at the dairy.
Also years ago, Ander had established a “Bring Your Child to Work Day” on the first Monday in May. He felt it was good, even for the younger children, to see what their parents did to make a living, and he thought that this might help to instill a good work ethic at an early age. But besides the practical side, it was a lot of fun for everyone. The kids loved running all over the dairy, petting all the cows and seeing every aspect of the dairy business, from the milking to the bottling to the making of the cheese to watching the office workers handle the billing and ordering.
Hanna Marie loved going to work with her daddy on this day. And he delighted in taking her around to all the different departments, introducing her to each of his employees. She would shake hands with everyone she met while Ander beamed with pride.
This year, when Hanna Marie saw little Miss Davenport, who worked in the office, Miss Davenport had been surprised at how she had grown. She looked at Ander and said, “Oh my, Hanna Marie is almost as tall as I am now.”
At the end of the day, there would be a big outdoor party for everyone, and Hanna Marie and Ander would help scoop ice cream for the children.
Every year, when
they would come home, they both would have ice cream all over their good clothes, but Beatrice didn’t care. She knew that day meant so much to both of them.
—
HANNA MARIE WAS UNABLE to attend regular school with the other children in town, but Beatrice and Ander hired a private teacher who specialized in teaching the deaf to come and live with them. Soon Hanna Marie was learning to read and write, and was quite excited about it.
Several months later, Elner went to her mailbox, and was surprised to see a letter written in childish, but quite readable handwriting, addressed to
AUNT ELNER SHIMFISSLE
COTTONWOOD FARM
RURAL ROUTE 216
ELMWOOD SPRINGS, MISSOURI
Dear Aunt Elner,
This is me, Hanna Marie, writing a letter to say hello to you. I hope you are fine. I am fine. Mother and Daddy say hello to you too. Please write a letter to me sometime too. My teacher said that I can read very well. I am drawing you a picture of my teacher.
I love you very much,
Hanna Marie Swensen
Even though Elner was not her real aunt, Hanna Marie did love her. She had known her all of her young life. She had often spent the night with Elner and Will out at the farm. And even now, almost every Saturday morning, Norma would drive Hanna Marie and her own little girl, Linda, out for a weekly visit.
One pretty morning in June, Norma and Elner were sitting on Elner’s big screened-in back porch drinking iced tea while the two girls played with a new baby rabbit. Ever since Hanna Marie had learned to read and write she always had a pad and pencil with her, and today, as usual, she was busy writing down another one of her many questions. When she showed her pad to Elner, it said, “Is this a girl bunny?”