Big changes were soon to come. One night at the supper table Grandpa’s Dad and Mom made the announcement that they were moving to a farm. Great-grandpa knew a man who owned a 100-acre farm. He was in need of someone to work and rent it from him. The fact that farmers were exempt from the draft probable had something to do with it also. So at the approximate age of 9 he went from a small city lot to 100 acres of land. Left behind were all the memories of youth. No more Cowboys & Indians, no more destruction of imaginary Japanese and Germans. Gone was the hotheaded old Dutchman neighbor who used to create some excitement.
Like the time he bought a radio and announced to one and all that he could hear all the way to Chicago. No one believed him of course because he had the first radio in the area. So he invited all the neighbors to show them what his radio could do. While all stood around in rapt attention he plugged it in and soon all the lights started glowing. This included a big green cat’s eye that changed, as you got closer to a station. There were loads of screeching sounds and a lot of static. For a couple of seconds there was far-off music mixed with static. The Old Dutch man was getting madder and madder. He finally leaped up from his chair, grabbed the offending radio and heaved it out the big window, smashing all the glass into the grass outside. This was the talk of the neighborhood for some time.
This same fellow had a garage that was cut into the bank on which was a cement top with an iron rail. You could walk from the grass right onto the garage roof. This fellow was a hard worker and made a little extra money in his day (outside of raising 9 kids). He had a big black car that had all the latest innovations on it. Grandpa’s dad had a Model T and later a Model A. These had a crank in front to turn over and start the motor. Now this big black car had an electric starter on it, which was the cause of much pride. On this particular day Grandpa was standing on the cement garage roof watching the Dutchman down below. His car had long running boards that sloped right up and became the fenders. On each of the front fenders was mounted a big chrome headlight shaped like a big bullet on a stem.
Anyways the Dutchman got in his car and stepped on the starter. The engine turned over a few times but wouldn’t start. Finally, the battery was dead. By this time the Ole Boy was really getting wound up. Now he lifted the hood and stood looking inside. Then he messed with a few things, got back in the car, but no battery power. So he set the gun and whatever and went out with the crank in his big hands. He turned the motor over and it started. Rushing back to the door he leaped inside only in time to have the car stop. So out again. He put in the crank and kicked it over. Again it started; again it stopped just as he was getting in. By this time he was turning blue and Grandpa was learning a whole new vocabulary. Now things were really getting interesting.
In a fit of terrible anger the Ole Boy grabbed a sledge hammer and with a mighty swing and crash, sent one of the headlights sailing off its stem and down into the road going tink tink tink. Then with another roar he changed the other headlight with a Dutch curse and a swing sent I tinking after the first one. By this time he was in a mighty rage and proceeded to pound with the sledge upon the hood of the car. Who knows how far this could have gone if his patient little wife didn’t step out and say in her accent, “Vell Jacob Vwat to tink yore doing dis time?”
So now its 100-acres of freedom, cats, cows, dogs and all that good stuff.
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