A New Home

The reunited family sat down at the kitchen table in the Valley Junction rental. Charley put his $250.00 in the center, Lena put her $78.00 on top of it, and Harley placed his $42.75 down. They had $370.75. That would be enough for a simple house. Four or five room houses could be purchased for $2,000-$2,500 in town, but they had basements and garages. With his family and friends helping, he could get the materials for the cash they had. They could buy supplies at the Grimes lumber yard. They sold plans there and would have everything: lumber, nails, windows and doors, shingles and pipes. Yes, he told Lena, pipes. Charley was going to put water in the kitchen. It wouldn’t be a fancy place with an indoor toilet yet, but Lena would not have to go to the well for water any more. It would be almost the size of the old house, except for the basement. They were going to have to put in a half basement, just big enough for the furnace and the coal, and maybe a small root cellar/storm shelter. There wasn’t going to be time to dig a full basement. Half would do. Lena didn’t object; it would be home and that’s all she wanted.

Charley had all his tools in the shed, and his family, friends, and neighbors would bring theirs. Lena had recruited folks the past few weeks when she had heard from Charley about when he could be expected home. They would have Pastor Schlenker at St. John’s Lutheran in Grimes make the announcement in church tomorrow; the house would be started next Saturday. Eight o’clock in the morning. As soon as everyone got their own chores done, they would be over at Charley and Lena’s farm. Betty agreed to cook the lunch. Lena was so grateful. Mrs. Monahan said she would help cook and serve, too. Harvest would be starting soon, but the farmers had some time before that. It would be just enough time to build a house.

Saturday came and the load of lumber was ready. Charley and Harley had gotten the basement dug with the help of the co-op’s crew. The bricks from Grimes Brick had been laid. The cement was dry, so the framing began. By noon, the men had the basement reinforced with framing and the above-ground walls were done. Lunch was filling, but brief. Charley had to cut some corners with his limited funds, so it was decided that the two bedrooms would go over the basement; it would keep them warmer in the winter. There would be no second story or attic, just a crawl space below the roof. The kitchen would not have a framed floor. It might have to be dirt; Lena wasn’t too sure about that, but Harley stepped forward and said he had an idea for making that work and assured his mother that it would be clean and pretty when he was finished. Lena was dubious without knowing all the details, but she had no choice. Tight as the money was, she was going to be happy just to have a roof of their own over their heads before the snow started flying.

No one worked on Sunday, but on Monday morning after that, the men came again. Betty cooked again, and Mrs. Monahan made pies. All week, the crew was various sizes, but by Friday, it was clear that only one more Saturday would be needed. Lena couldn’t remember being so happy since the day she and Charley married.

Lena had picked out a used cook stove at the hardware store in Grimes, and it was installed. Charley and Harley found a really good sink at the dry goods store in Valley Junction and traded the owner with some of the leftover lumber. Lena was so excited to have running water in her kitchen. She still did not like the dirt floor in her kitchen, but the floors in the bedrooms, hallway, and living room were sturdy and warm. The stove would help heat the kitchen, and the warmth would flow into the rest of the house throughout the day. Charley said he thought that as long as his bedroom was warm, he would be happy, and that’s what Lena really cared about. Charley had sacrificed months of comfort and convenience, risked his health and his life, and braved the dangers of riding the rails to provide a home for them. She loved, admired, and appreciated him more than ever. She was going to make this a wonderful home for him. Farming was a hard life. Her ambition was to make it less hard. Charley’s ambition was to just make it. Harley’s goal was to make it out and own a Lincoln. But for now, he was going to finish high school and find a way to go to college.

The weather cooperated that last day. The roof went on and the windows went in. The interior was unfinished, but Lena knew how to paint and caulk. She could sand and varnish. She could hang a door, and if they were short on doors, she knew how to hang a curtain across it. Whatever needed to be done inside the house, she would do it. She was, however, still worried about her kitchen floor.

Harley assured her he had a great solution. She could sweep it, mop it, and it wouldn’t be dirt. She could even wax it, if she wanted to. He kept his plan such a mystery, it was starting to drive Lena crazy. Finally, she gave him a deadline.

“I need it in by the day before school starts. That gives you two weeks, Harley. Two weeks. Now that the house is done, your father needs you to help in the field, so whatever your plan is, it’ll be dark when you are doing it, you understand?” Lena was visibly upset, and she continued to go on about the floor not being done. “I don’t know what you have up your sleeve, son, but I cannot abide this dirt floor in my kitchen much longer. You understand, this is where the term ‘dirt poor’ comes from, right? It means you are so poor, you have dirt floors in your house. I have no intention of giving anyone cause to call this family ‘dirt poor’.”

“I understand, Mother. It will be done. It is a nighttime project anyway. I will not let you down, I promise.” Harley still sounded confident, so Lena let it drop for now, but she did not stop worrying about the dirt floor.

Charley and Harley had to focus on the harvest now. The son kept up with his early morning milk route and helped his father and Jim with getting the corn in. Lena got the last of the vegetables out of the garden and began putting them in the jars the ladies at church had given her. Using the well water in the garden all summer, she had a generous harvest. She even donated some to church for them to give to some of the less fortunate town folks in Grimes. Charley was impressed by that, but Lena did it because she had been raised that way. Even in tight, hard times, she had learned, share what you have with others who need it.

Harley was making trips to Granger at night after dark. He would return with a large crate of “something” every evening. He carried it immediately to the basement. She saw him bring in a large ball of baling wire and the wire cutters from the shed. She had no idea what was going on. She asked Charley if he knew what Harley was doing down there.

“Charley, do you know what Harley’s plans are for the dirt floor? He’s making all those trips to Granger and being mighty mysterious about what is going on in the basement. He won’t let me go down there. He’s been making all the trips to the put the food in the root cellar for me, even. Mighty mysterious,” Lena said.

“I do know, but I ain’t tellin’ ya. It’s fun watchin’ you squirm and fret!” He laughed heartily. “You’ll find out Sunday,” he assured her.

“What’s going on Sunday?”

“Well, Sugar, after church I am takin’ you to your mother’s house. We are spending the afternoon visiting with her and Lynn and Alice. Harley tells me that when we get home for supper, he will have the floor done.”

“Is it going to be a nice floor, Charley?” she asked. “I don’t need anything fancy…well, I know it isn’t going to be fancy, but I want something nice,” Lena declared.

“Relax, Sweetheart, it’s gonna be real nice, and pretty, and colorful, and sturdy, and different than anything you have ever seen. Just relax,” he repeated. “Harley is doing his best for his ma. You know he loves you,” Charley reminded her.

So, she let it go again. Harley was a wonderful son, and he did try to please his mother in everything he did, so she had to trust him.

Sunday came, church was over. Charley and Lena dropped Harley off at the foot of their driveway and headed off to a fried chicken dinner at her mother’s house. Harley was going to heat up some leftover bean soup at home and get busy on the new floor.

‘New’ wasn’t exactly accurate. It was a ‘used’ floor if he wanted to be truthful. One of the men who helped build their house had a junkyard up in Granger. He had hundreds of old cars, not running, that he was selling for parts. City-folk and farmers alike would haul their old, non-running cars and trucks over there, and he would give them cash. Then he would sell the parts. The man, named Russ Law, said it was a business that didn’t exist twenty years ago and he was right. Harley thought the guy was pretty creative, having found a way to make a living off of other folk’s junk cars. Harley was still thinking about careers that could afford him his new Lincoln eventually. He didn’t think owning a junkyard would fit the bill. He’d keep looking. But, Russ was nice to him, and generous. He offered Harley another creative idea. He could use the old license plates for the floor of his mother’s kitchen.

They were colorful. They were sturdy. They were easy to clean. Perfect for a floor, but they were small pieces. Harley looked at a few license plates that Russ brought when he came to work on the house one day. They had little holes in each corner. He could patch them together with bailing wire. He had promised his mother a pretty, sturdy, washable floor, so he made several trips to the junkyard, to remove the old plates from the junked cars. When she came home Sunday evening, Lena’s floor would be done.

Harley had pieced the floor together in sections that he could carry up the stairs, put down on the floor, and then wire all the edges together. The biggest section he had was about six feet by six feet. He also had two smaller pieces wired together. The small kitchen with a tiny dining area was ten feet by twelve feet. He would fold up the sections he had and carry them up the stairs. After wiring them together in place, he would add on individual plates to fit them to the walls.

First, he moved the table and chairs into the hallway. After laying down a sheet of tar-treated felt that he had let Uncle Lynn help him buy, he dragged the sections of the floor up the stairs and started placing them where they fit the best. Harley had measured pretty well and was relieved to confirm that he had enough extra license plates to complete the whole dirt part of the floor. Because he had waxed them all individually while wiring them together, the floor was as colorful and shiny as he had hoped. It was also as pretty and practical as he had promised his mother it would be.

Harley was mildly surprised by the pleasure he felt in flooring the dirt part of their home. He realized he had actually contributed to the house in a way no one else did. He wasn’t a house framer, or a roofer, or a plumber, but he was the floor man. It really felt wonderful. After putting the table and chairs back, Harley admired the floor, walking around on it, packing it down more level in a few spots, and generally making sure all the corners were good and secure. When he heard his father’s truck come up the short driveway, he was ready. This was it!

He ran outside, waving hello to his parents. Charley could tell by the look on his son’s face that the floor was done. Up until now, Charley had thought it sounded like an interesting possibility, but really did not know what to expect. From the look on Harley’s face, though, he could tell it turned out well.

Harley was so anxious to have his mother see it, that he didn’t make any grand plan for having her close her eyes or anything like that. He whisked her across the side door threshold and fairly pushed her into the kitchen entryway.

“Oh! My goodness!” Lena cried. “Look at this. Just look at this! I have never seen anything like this…this…this…floor. It’s amazing!” She moved her weight from foot to foot, shifting to check the floor. It was sturdy and practical, and so unusual. She walked across the kitchen, making a pass in front of the ice box and the stove. Harley had lined up the license plates to fit perfectly against the planks where the wood floor for the hallway started. Lena was truly impressed.

“Well done, son,” said Charley. He was very proud and looked at Lena. She was beaming but was definitely having a hard time expressing herself. It was obvious from the look on her face. She couldn’t stop smiling. Her eyes were sparkling; actually, a little moist. She shook her head when she looked at Harley.

She finally found a few words, “This floor is wonderful, and you are incredible, Harley. I love you so much. I know this took you a long time; many hours and a lot of effort. I will absolutely treasure this floor.”

Harley had his speech planned. It was almost like a dedication for the floor, or even for the whole house. “Mother, and Father. Our family has struggled since the old house burned down. We still don’t have a lot, but we have our new home, and we still have the farm. I wanted to make sure no one could call us dirt poor, so I covered it up, with the prettiest license plates I could find. We are now officially license plate poor, and I don’t think that is poor at all, do you?”

Tears slid down Lena’s face, as the late-afternoon sun shone through the west kitchen window. Charley put his arm around her shoulder and she leaned into him. Harley stepped up beside her and put his arm around her also, just on top of his father’s arm.

“No, Harley. We are not even the slightest bit poor,” Lena whispered. “We are richly blessed. God has blessed us all.”