continuation
There was a lot of horse play. we found a nest of rotten eggs. I very carefully hid them, then placed a bunch of egg-sized rocks under Monrad's blanket. When Monrad went to bed than night, he started talking Norwegian.I knew he had found my rocks. I hollered "Look out for them rotten eggs!" Monrad threw them all over the barn. Some of the fellows thought it was the eggs he was throwing. I knew enough to keep still, but I never found out how my jacket got to the top of the windmill.We had a truck driver, Emo, show up to haul grain. On the way home he was to bring a tank wagon. It was Saturday night and sure enough, there was a tank wagon in the barn lot.NOTE BY SHELDON:
Joe asked me to tell about Emo. In 1939 Walt and I were sawing lumber on the Mississippi River country south of Galena, IL. We had hired a man and his boys to help in the mill. They had also done some logging for us. We became friends.One Sunday, Joe was at our place for a visit. Amel, (Emo) was there also. About a month later, Joe said, "Sheldon, that man Amel, I believe is the same man I knew as a truck driver in 1928 in N. Dakota."
I asked Amel if he had ever worked in a threshing crew in N. Dakota. He said yes, that the farm belonged to an uncle by the name of Cullum. It was one and the same person. The name had gotten changed from Emo to Amel over the years.Anyway, Amel, his family and our family became much closer friends. Amel is buried in Minnesota not far from the N. Dakota Country where he had worked on the same crew as Joe.
ON WITH JOE'S STORY:
By now the crew had taken a liking to a fellow named Leo (Shorty) Meckler. Five feet tall - about the stoutest fellow I'd ever been around. Shorty could throw every man on the job. Monrad, the big Norwegian, would not try Shorty out as he was too proud to be thrown by such a little guy. I kept trying as I thought I would learn what it took. I never did!
Back to the job: It was plain to me we were not getting enough grain through the separator to make money for Cullum. At Wing, N. Dakota, we filled the bins then threshed on the ground. Winter was coming and "Boss Man" had a field of flax to thresh. We had a slack outfit. About every afternoon we ran out of gas.Monrad was one who never did his part. I had tied my team but not his. We had an argument about this. We wrestled - we kept at it until we were both exhausted. I challenged him to come again, but he didn't.The next morning Cullum showed up with a carload of strangers. When Monrad started his job, the "Boss Man" motioned him off and another man got on. I still hadn't caught on! When I started my job, "Boss Man" motioned me off. I caught on! We had been fired.The next day, Monrad and I shook hands and Monrad said, "Joe, I'm glad we wrestled." I, too, am glad we wrestled.The geese were flying south. When back in Minnesota, we stopped at my uncle's. My cousin Howard took us to the railroad roundhouse where his dad worked. Here we ran through the showers and Aunt Mina ran our clothes through the washer.We met those girls again. Went to Itasca State Park where the Mississippi River starts and had a picnic.Later on the way home to Illinois, we stopped at the Iron Ranges. By this time we had no time or money for girls. The gravel roads had taken their toll on the Harley Davidson. The chains and sprockets were worn to a nub. We made it to Charles City, Iowa. With second-hand sprockets and chain, we were on our way home.About Frank: Several years ago, he was back from Idaho where he was living. He wrote a note and thanked me for taking him back over some of the trails we had known when young. He had left his voice in a hospital in Idaho. It was not easy to cash a check in Hurdsfield so I bought two packs of Camels to get the check cashed. Frank would liked to have had them as by then he was hooked. The next day, I threw them in the separator as I do not smoke. I could still talk about the day we threshed the cigarettes.Frank came to a family reunion about two years ago. We told them it was our 50th anniversary. Howard and his wife Tress are gone. I have been back to Hurdsfield a couple of times. Adelaide was killed in a car accident. In a weak moment some foolish school teacher assumed the responsibility for Walt, her brother. They are now retired in California.This happened a long time ago and as I wrote it all came back to me. Usually my concern is what did I do yesterday. Am I getting old?p.s. by Sheldon
I remember Joe telling me about those last few miles to home. One of the wheels only had a handfull of spokes, and they were really babying it, going 5 mph. They made it home bur it would not have gone anouther mile.
