John Henry Calls Home

I woke up about eight-thirty Sunday morning and Saturday seemed like a dream. The huge pool, the cheering fans, the beautiful Old Capitol building, meeting Ted Ashby, and the long, long automobile trip; what a day. I wanted to take a hot soak in the bathtub, but I didn’t want to miss Dad’s phone call. I put on my green chenille bathrobe and ran down the stairs to let Mother know I was awake. She was in the kitchen drinking coffee and I smelled coffee cake in the oven.

“Good morning, Mother. Do you think I have time to take a bath before Dad calls us? My legs and bottom are still a little stiff after all that swimming, and then sitting in the car for so long.”

She answered easily, “You go ahead, darling daughter. I already had my soak. Your father said he would be calling before Sunday dinner, and the coffee cake has only been in the oven about five minutes. You have plenty of time for a good soak.”

I was so glad we had indoor plumbing in Des Moines. Back in Steamboat Rock, they still had to use the outhouses and well pump at Uncle Albert’s house and at Grandma’s house, too. Our tub with running water was wonderful! It was especially nice in the winter. I headed to the back of the house, to the room just off the back porch. There was a tub and a heater right next to it. It took a while for the water to warm up, but eventually I was clean and comfortable.

Mother was getting a little anxious when I finally arrived in the kitchen again, all dressed and ready for a late breakfast. It was a minute or two past ten o’clock and she was waiting for the telephone to ring. It was hard for both of us. We missed Dad and couldn’t wait any longer to hear his voice. Just a minute later the telephone rang. It rang with three short rings. On our party line, that was our ring. There were four other families on our line, but the receiver was only picked up if it was our ring. Polite folks never listened in on other people’s telephone calls.

Mom answered it on the second three rings. “Hello? Is it you, John Henry?”

“Yes, it is, my dear Henrietta. This is your John Henry, calling from Houston. Are you and Mable doing okay? Is she up already this morning?”

Boy, he had a lot of questions. I know Mother would want to talk to him first, and last, but that she would let me be the one to tell him about yesterday.

“Yes, she’s up. Already had herself a nice bath and is ready for some coffee cake. She wants to tell you all about yesterday, of course,” Mother replied.

“In a minute, Henrietta,” Dad answered. “She can tell me all about the state meet and campus tour, but first, I want to hear from you about the house and how your travels yesterday went.”

“Well, the house is fine. The yard got raked Friday afternoon by those two young Erickson boys and I gave them each a dime. One did the front yard and one did the back yard. It only took them about an hour. They dumped all the leaves in the burn pile back by the alley, and we will burn them before they blow around, probably this afternoon if the wind stays calm. The trip on the River-to-River route was long, but pleasant in Mr. Orwig’s new car. There was plenty of room for all of us. On the way back, he stopped at a restaurant and bought us all dinner. It was a delightful and exciting day. We both wish you could have been here, but we know you are doing the best thing for us, John Henry. I love you and miss you.”

“I love you, too, Henrietta. I know you can take good care of everything. I’ll be sending some money up there every Friday. Just keep the bills paid and save the rest. When is your mother coming?”

“Albert and Helen are arriving this afternoon, hopefully in time for dinner,” Mother answered. “Here’s Mable. She can hardly stand still waiting to talk to you. She has an awful lot to tell you. Bye for now, John Henry.”

Mother handed me the receiver. It was hard not to grab it out of her hand, but I was certainly raised better than that. I just had to tell Dad everything!

“Hello, Dad? I set two state records! Two, do you hear me?” I shouted into the receiver.

“Whoa, little girl!” Dad answered. I could tell he was excited to hear that, but I guess I was a little too loud. “I want to hear all the details, but you had better calm down or it won’t come out right like it needs to. Please, we don’t have all day, so give me the good news so I can understand it.”

I took a really deep breath. “Sorry, Daddy. I swam so well. All the practice and everything was worth it. I won the preliminary heats and then I won in the finals of the 40-yard and 100-yard backstroke. I set state records in both. In both! Our medley team came in second, but we ended up winning the Iowa State Championship trophy by eight team points. All the girls swam really well. It was the most fun!”

“Whoa, again, darling daughter; one thing at a time. That is wonderful, and I am so proud of you. Did the people from the university come and watch? How did the tour go? Are they going to help with your tuition? What did they say?”

“Dad, they were really swell to all of us. The Old Capitol was so elegant. I loved the journalism program and I got to see where they print the Daily Iowan and where they work on the Old Gold yearbook, too. The swim coach is Miss Camp and she brought the Athletic Director to watch me swim. Miss Camp is waiting to hear from the Admissions Director about receiving my application and then they will let me know what they can do to help with my tuition and other expenses. Everything is going just like we hoped. Don’t worry.” I think I said that all in one breath; I was so eager to tell him. I added, “I sure wish you could have come with us.”

“I’m where I belong right now, Mable. It’s so good to hear that the meet and tour went so fine. I have always been proud of you, no matter what; win or lose. I am even more proud of you now. I will always be proud of you. You know how to work hard. You know how to go after what you want and how to get it. You are going to shine even brighter at the university. I will be home after Christmas; probably around the middle of January. You make a strong finish with your grades this semester, okay?”

“Okay, Dad. You know I will,” I replied.

“And, darling daughter, have you had a chance to talk to that boys’ swim team coach yet?”

“No, Dad. I wanted to wait until our swim season was over and until I had the records at the state meet. I’ll talk to him this week, though, I promise.”

He asked me to give the phone back to Mother. I did.

At first, she just listened for a minute. I don’t know what he was saying, but she said, “I don’t like the sound of that, John Henry. You get yourself to a doctor tomorrow, you promise? Promise me?”

Dad answered her with, “I don’t know if I can get there tomorrow,” and Mom frowned.

“Okay, then some other day this week, and you call us up on the telephone again next Sunday. But you’d better be able to tell me what that doctor says.” Then Dad talked some more and finally Mother said, “Goodbye for now, John Henry. I love you, too.” She put the receiver back on the wall.

She turned to me and reported, “You father said he was feeling kinda poorly and had to miss a day of work. You know how strong he is and he’s never been sick a day. So, I told him to get to a doctor tomorrow. He probably picked up one of those germ things on the train. Who knows what kind of people were riding with him. Those trains are so closed up and you are just sitting there with a whole car full of strangers. Who knows?” She continued, “He promised he would go. We’ll hear from him again next Sunday. We’ll just put him in our prayers, Mable, like we always do.”

“Is that all he said, Mother?”

“Well, you know he added that he really believed in you, and that I should give you all my support for this boys’ swim team problem. I’m not sure I agree with the two of you, but I will support you just like Dad would. I believe in you, Mable, just like your father does. You are a remarkable daughter, and both of us love you more than you will ever understand.” Mother was starting to get a few tears in her eyes, and so was I.

I had the most wonderful parents in the world. I was such a blessed girl. We did not go to church much; usually only at Christmas and Easter, but we prayed and we loved God. He had been good to all three of us. All I could answer her with was, “I love you both, more that I can ever tell you.”

We had a big long hug. It wasn’t a bear hug like Dad could give. We both knew it, but it was a strong hug; like there should be between a mother and daughter.