The Lincoln

Harley felt both dread and delightful anticipation on the milk route days. What did he dread? That would be the back-breaking toting of the milk crates, the lurching stops and jolting starts of the milk truck, and the cranky, demanding notes left by those town-type housewives in their front porch insulated milk delivery boxes. The anticipation? Another look at that 1933 Lincoln L Dual Cowl "DC" Phaeton 4-door convertible.

Harley had never seen another car even close to the beauty of that one. He knew better than to tell his mother or father about his obsession with it and he was pretty sure they suspected nothing. He also tried to hide his fascination from Uncle Lynn when they drove past the mansion on Waterbury Circle, south of Grand Avenue on the west side of Des Moines. It was at the very eastern edge of their milk route. Most of the deliveries from Uncle Lynn’s dairy were in Valley Junction, but he had a few really good customers in the Waterbury neighborhood. They were extremely wealthy customers and he was particular to give them exactly what they wanted, when they wanted it. His uncle had told him that he sometimes made special deliveries to them on days that were not on the schedule. They always gave good tips and were very generous at Christmas, also. Harley always received a part of those tips, so he did everything Uncle Lynn told him to do.

So, this early summer Saturday, he loaded all the crates of heavy glass bottles, filled with milk, into the back of Uncle Lynn’s 1924 Model T panel body truck. Lynn had bought it used, without the panels, and fixed it up out on his farm. It managed to make it through the milk route every Tuesday and Saturday, year around. It was a reliable little truck, but it was ugly to Harley. It had a big wooden case in the back, lined with ice to keep the milk cold. That truck had a purpose, and it did what it needed to do.

That Lincoln, though, was a magnificent car. It was amazingly shiny and exquisitely black. He managed to get a good look at it every time they made a delivery. Seeing the buff-colored convertible top and the luxurious leather seats made Harley feel like he was dreaming. The Lincoln convertible sat in front of that huge home, looking perfectly in place near the tall white columns on the front portico.

Right there, Harley made the decision that he would have a Lincoln. He didn’t know when and he didn’t know how, but he would find a way. He might have a nice house, he might live in town, although that was not really what he wanted to do. Harley was a farm boy and the city did not appeal to him at all. He just wanted a Lincoln; that’s all he knew for sure. Every time he drove past it, he was even more certain.

Sometimes Lena would question the big smile on his face when he came home from Uncle Lynn’s. He would hand his mother the day’s tips and tell her it was just a really nice day with his uncle. That seemed to satisfy her. That was a good thing, Harley decided. Someday he would surprise his parents and drive a brand-new Lincoln up to their front door and take them for a ride. He would pay off all their debts and fix up the house. There would be indoor plumbing and any other thing they needed. He loved his parents with all his heart, but he was not going to be poor.

The whole country was going through what was being called The Great Depression. Harley knew his family was in trouble, but he was sure they could pull through it together. The banks had closed for a while after the big stock market crash. Prices for farm equipment and supplies went sky high. The prices they could get for their livestock and harvested crops were ridiculously low. Their savings account was nearly empty. There had been a farm strike, where some farmers in the area had tried to prevent milk and eggs and other farm produce from getting to the town people. They were trying to get them to pay higher prices, but unfortunately, not enough farmers joined in to make it work. At least they still had Harley’s milk route income, and a few cattle left to sell.

At times, it seemed like it would be better to move into town and have everyone try to get a job, but there really weren’t jobs to be had. Most of the time, it was definitely better staying on the farm. Lena could can and preserve the enormous bounty of her large garden. The horses had been sold to help with expenses, but the goat gave milk, the chickens laid eggs and also provided an occasional Sunday dinner treat. The man who owned the meat locker in Grimes butchered one of the cattle, took a share of it for his fee, and Lena traded some of the rest of it for butter, flour and sugar at Dolan’s grocery in nearby Grimes. Since she started baking her own bread again, both Charley and Harley had put on a few pounds. Harley picked mulberries for jam in the spring and Charley climbed as high as he could in the giant pear tree in the fall, for fruit for all of them. They felt like they could make it through these hard, hard times, if they could just keep working together and hang on.

It was starting to get cooler at night, and Lena decided she wanted the whole house cleaned before winter set in. A traveling salesman had come to the farm with a trunk of cleaning supplies, but Lena was not easily sold frivolous household supplies. The man did have, however, a special oil that he said was imported from Africa and it was supposed to be the best thing for restoring old furniture so it would look like new. Lena bought it. She had her special stash of change in the back of the cupboard, and she just splurged and bought it for herself. She had been thinking about how hard it had been for her parents and her grandparents to haul that big walnut chest all over the Midwest for all those years. She felt a little guilty for letting her only real family heirloom fall into dusty disrepair, so the next day after breakfast she asked her two men to take the chest down the steps and into the front yard. Her plan was to use that oil and see if she could make it look like new.

It was a good plan. Lena decided go out and see what she could do with it after lunch. The men did their barnyard chores and just before they went in to eat their sandwiches and soup, they even had time to put a fresh coat of paint on the outhouse. Lena had already eaten her lunch before they came in; she was in a hurry to get out there with that oil and as the salesman said, “work a miracle” on that darkened walnut.

She worked all afternoon. It had always been the largest piece of furniture in their house, but Lena found out exactly how large that day. It took her most of the afternoon to do the front, both sides and the top. She stood back and looked at it. The dull walnut chest of drawers was much brighter and it looked like it was somehow happier. So that made her happier, too. She wasn’t quite sure what to do with the back. It wasn’t really finished like the front. It had rougher wooden slats that had never been stained or varnished. Some of the slats had been repaired or replaced; she couldn’t tell for sure, and it just wasn’t pretty at all. Lena realized she didn’t want to do anything to the back. It would be a reminder of the use and service that the old chest of drawers had given her family, her parents, her grandparents, and her great-grandparents.

Out of nowhere came the thought that she wished she had asked her grandmother more about it. Lena might have been able to hand this down to Harley with a family story. All she knew was that her Grandma Kessel’s father made it in 1830, so that would make the dresser 100 years old. She had plenty of other family stories, but none had an actual family treasure like this to go with them.

Hollering down towards the barn to get the attention of Charley and Harley, she started gathering up the rags she had used. Lena’s grand plan for them was to eventually burn them, but first she would use them to polish up the dusty coal furnace in the basement. Then they would be ready to burn for sure. She wanted the men to move the chest over on the bricks by the back door. The sun would finish drying it off and then they could move the now-beautiful chest back into the bedroom, looking like new.

“Golly,” Harley was actually whining, “This thing must weigh two tons, Mom.”

“Well, you know it don’t weigh that much, but it’s even heavier on my end if you don’t lift your end a little more, son,” grunted Charley.

Harley took more of the weight of it on himself, not wanting to have his father get the most part of it.

“Scooch it as far from the house as you can and still have it on the bricks, please,” Lena asked. “I want the sun on it this afternoon as long as possible. I surely am thankful for my two strong men.”

The two men followed instructions, then headed back down to the barn to finish their farm work; Lena went in to start dinner. She wanted to get a pie in the oven as a surprise thank-you for their help. They would settle for cookies, but the dresser was so beautiful now, she wanted a suitable reward for them.

The sun got low and they sat down for dinner, all prepared to relax and enjoy their family time together. Lena had some thoughts to share with them around the table. “You two know how old that chest of drawers is, right? You know it was made about a hundred years ago? I’m pretty sure Grandma Kessel’s father made it, but I aim to ask my mother more about it later this week. Maybe Sunday we could go over there for a visit after church. It’s been since July fourth, and I want to see that she’s feeling fit still.” Lena looked around the table for a response.

Charley offered, “I’ll be happy to take ya down there to Valley Junction, Lena. Maybe Lynn and Alice can come too. You two ladies could pack a lunch and we could have a picnic in the back yard at yer mother’s place. Tell Alice to make them homemade rolls like she does, huh?”

Lena nodded in agreement and added, “I was also thinking that maybe Mother would like to take a trip back up to South Dakota next summer, if she’s able. I would like to go see the old homestead. I could maybe get some extra mending or sewing jobs this winter and save up a little trip money. I have always wondered if there is any trace of the old soddie we built.”

Harley’s ears picked up a new word. “Soddie? What’s a soddie?” His mother had taught him to be curious about every new word he heard or read. She always told him that he would never learn anything new if he didn’t ask questions.

“You never heard me and your mom talk about soddies, son?” Charley looked at him squarely, but doubtfully.

“Not that I recall. What’s a soddie?”

Lena smiled and patted her son’s hand. “A soddie is a sod house, boy . It’s a house built with bricks of sod. We cut it deep on the prairie up there in the Dakotas. The roots went way down and some of those bricks were twelve inches thick. We stacked them up; the houses were usually built into the side of the hill if there was a hill around. They were as warm as any other kind of shelter in those long, cold winters, and stayed nice and cool on the hot summer days that would scorch the grass up there.”

“You lived in a house made of dirt?”

“Made from sod, Harley. That’s a natural building material; just as good as wood, but cheaper. And easier to find up there in the northern parts of the plains,” added Charley. Then he remembered, having mentioned wood, about the chest, which was still outside. “Are we bringing that chest of drawers back in tonight, Lena?”

“No, Charley. I checked on it earlier, and the finish still feels a bit sticky. I put an old sheet over it and we can bring it inside tomorrow. You can’t see anything of it from the road, so it will be safe out there,” Lena assured him.

Harley looked relieved and excused himself from the table. He cleared his plate and his parents’ plates also. “I’m going to read now, if that’s okay with you two. Mother, where is that new Reader’s Digest? May I start it tonight?” queried the hopeful young man.

“It’s on the stairs up to your attic, Harley. Make sure you read the Word Power section first. I know there are some new ones in there that you don’t know yet. We’ll go over them tomorrow night at dinner,” Lena replied. “Enjoy yourself!”

Harley always enjoyed himself when he was reading. The Word Power was always the section he read first, after he skimmed through the pages for a Lincoln advertisement! He headed up the stairs, grabbing the magazine as he took the steps two at a time.

Lena and Charley smiled at each other and got up to start the dishes together.