The Redhead - Cover

The Redhead

Copyright© 2014 by Ragnaar

Chapter 10

Decisions and Memories...

It was still quite early to call on neighbors and friends unannounced. So I decided to show Grace some of my favorite places around the town where I spent my final three years in High School. We drove through town and I showed her where the High School used to be. It burned down a couple of years after I went away to the Service. I showed her where my best friend Alex lived when he was in High School. He was long gone now. Come to think about it, he was down in Florida too, he was in some place called Orlando. He had gone to work as an Imagineer for Disney World, straight out of Ames with a 4.0 degree in Engineering.

He was part of a family of 13 kids who all grew up to make something of themselves. Many were College or Professional administrators, teachers, engineers; one was even a Rocket Scientist in New Mexico. We stopped at the Cafe on Main Street to see who was around. I wondered if Alex's Mom was working. She owned the Cafe. We went in and I looked for her, but she wasn't there. I guess I must have changed quite a bit, as no one in the Cafe, seemed to recognize me. I did recognize a couple of the old farmers who were in for their morning coffee. I said "Hi", to them and we left.

I decided to go out west of town, toward Carol's parent's farm. As we drove, I started to tell Grace about Carol.

The Rest of the Story

After our trip to the movie, Carol and I were inseparable. We went everywhere and we did everything together. Like many newly in love couples, we couldn't keep our hands off one another. We did try and did restrain ourselves, so that we wouldn't suffer from the kidding that teenagers are famous for.

It really didn't matter to me though. I just wanted to be with her. Over the next months, we went to all the School Activities as well as all the Church Youth Activities. We always went separately, but once there, we were together. We stole kisses whenever we thought we could. We dated, using my Mom's car or my Uncle Ed's old 58' Chevy Turquoise short box step side pickup truck. Now this was a farm truck. It was banged up, the floor was rotted through, you could see the road through the holes in the floor, the muffler was missing and the exhaust pipe was loose at the manifold. Exhaust fumes used to burn our eyes when we went too slowly. Needless to say, it was a disaster of a truck, but it was wheels and allowed us a little bit in the way of freedom to get away on our own and it did have the bed of the box to use if I could get it clean enough. During the week, everything you could think of was hauled around in the box. Livestock, feed, hay, you name it, it was in there and the residue was always left for me to clean if I wanted to drive it.

When basketball started, there were all the away games to go to. Carol played in the band and I played on the team. I was not a good basketball player. I was growing too fast and I was having difficulty with my coordination to be a good shooter. I was a good "WALL" for the opposing team to try and get around and I could get the ball to our good outside shooter. Cliff, he was deadly from outside, or from deep in either corner. Get the ball to him and it was almost a guarantee of 2 more points.

Winter in Iowa can best be summed up as something that you just have to endure. If you are active in farming, it is something that you have to go out in every day and stay there until the chores are done. Then you had to deal with anything else that needs to be done before you can go back in. At least when we milked the cows, the cow barn was warm, just from the cow's body heat. None of the outside buildings were heated. The hog house was warm from the hogs, even though they had a door that was always open. Every other day or so, we had to put down fresh straw on the floor of the cow barn for the cows to lay down on and the same with the hogs. The cows stayed in the barn most of the winter and were only out in the barn yard while we cleaned out the old dirty straw. Even though it was back breaking work with a manure fork, at least you got warm while you did it.

Carol and I spent time on each other's farms. I would go over and help her milk on days when my uncle didn't need me. She would sometimes come over to our place. My aunt, for some reason, did not seem too friendly to Carol. I later on found out that my aunt felt inferior to Carol. She felt that because Carol was a real farm girl and my aunt didn't feel comfortable around the livestock, it somehow made her feel like she didn't measure up. I am sure that my uncle loved her, as he only saw the good in people.

As the springtime came, Carol and I both went out for track. We both did the shot put and the discus. I was big enough to be in the unlimited class and so was Carol on the girl's team. That was a fun time, as we got to ride all over the west end of Iowa going to track meets on the bus. We always sat together and close to our friends.

The one cloud in our lives came about, because Carol was so bright, she had always taken extra classes. Because of this, even though we were the same age, she was going to graduate a year early. She had planned to go to a business school the summer after her graduation. She was going to have to move to Sioux City and live in the schools residence hall. It was a sad time, because I had started trying to plan to be able to see her, at least on weekends.

I had earned my Eagle Scout rank in Denver, and there hadn't really been an active troop back in the small town where Carol and I were living. In February of 1964, an acquaintance of my father asked if I would want to be on staff at the Scout camp at the Stone Park in Sioux City for that summer. I jumped at the chance. I would be on staff all summer and would have Saturday evenings free, as the campers went home on Saturday mornings and the new ones came in on Sunday afternoons.

So with a somewhat heavy heart, I made plans to leave the farm and go to the big city in June to be on Camp Staff. Carol had to be at her school in June, as well. Her schooling was just for basic office procedures and secretarial duties. She would finish in September. My Mom had an apartment in the city where she stayed during the week and then drove back to the farm for the weekends. That left the apartment empty on Saturday nights. Carol had a 10:00 pm curfew and I didn't have any transportation from the Camp except a bicycle. I had brought a 15 speed Schwinn Super Continental that I had bought just before leaving Colorado, to come back to the farm. Because the farms were on gravel roads, I didn't have very much opportunity to use the bike. I took it to camp with me and on Saturday afternoons, I would ride it into the city. It was only a few miles and almost all of it downhill. The hard part was getting back to camp after Carol had to get back to the dorm on Saturday night.

That summer was to be one of the very best of my life. I loved working at the Camp. My staff position was teaching rowing and canoeing to the young Scouts. The camp had a fairly small pond that had just been built the previous fall and it was still filling up. We didn't have a lot of room to maneuver the canoes and rowboats. Each week our graduation for the course was a 5 mile paddle down the Big Sioux River from just upstream to the small park in Riverside in North Sioux City. That was always a good time. It always ended up in a race.

Right from the beginning, every Saturday, I would ride in to the city and get there as early as possible. I could store my bike in the furnace room of the school. Carol and I would take off to catch a bus to Morningside to my Mom's apartment. It was wonderful. We had privacy and we were able to be together. We spent so much time making love that I was sometimes glad that all we had was just Saturdays. Just kidding!! At that age, I don't think there was such a thing as to much.

We were always careful, and to this day, I am not sure if my Mom ever knew that we used her apartment. We were always very careful to make sure to leave no trace that we had been there.

All to soon the summer came to an end. This was a time when the Viet Nam war was just starting to have a somewhat prominent place in the evening news. Carol knew that my plan had always been to join the Marines as soon as I graduated from High School. The more the news blared about Viet Nam, the more Carol put pressure on me not to go. She was afraid that I would be sent there and not come home. Once I finished my summer at the camp, I went to see that same friend of my Dad's. I asked him if he knew anyone who might have a job for me. He made a call and told me to go down to the Hinky Dinky Grocery Store, and ask for Dan the manager. I did as I was told, and an hour later, I had a job working as a stock boy and bag boy. This was work I knew, as I had worked for a year at the Safeway in Aurora Colorado.

Mom helped me get my school papers transferred to East High School and I moved in with her for my senior year.

Carol had been hired right out of school by Iowa Electric to work in their headquarters office building. It was right across the street from where she had gone to school all the past summer. She found a single room apartment in an old hotel that had been converted to monthly rentals. It was only 2 blocks from where she worked and only 3 blocks from the grocery store. We soon got into a routine of seeing each other most nights after I got off work at 21:00. When school let out every day, I would run home, grab my bike, and ride down to down town Sioux City to the Hinky Dink. My shift was from 16:00 until closing. After work, I would ride to Carol's building, park my bike in the hall outside of her apartment, and spend the evening with her till about 23:00. I would call my Mom and she would drive down to get me and the bike.

We were so much in love, this went on week after week, Some weekends, Carol would go home and I would borrow my Mom's car to drive down to see her. We would go to one of the small town theaters and then go out and park afterward. After I would take Carol home, her Mom and Dad didn't want me to drive back to the city that late. They would let me stay in the extra upstairs bedroom across the hall from Carol's room. Her parents slept down stairs. Of course, I never stayed in my room. I always went across the hall and slept with Carol. Her parents never came up stairs. We had to be quiet and really couldn't do much other than hold each other, with a little mutual play time beneath the covers.

In January, I told Carol that I was going down to Omaha to take my pre induction physical to go into the Marine Corps. I was officially enlisting 4 months early, but would not leave until I graduated in June. My date to report to MCRD San Diego was 5 June 1965.

When I told her that I was still going despite all her worries, we had our first major argument. When I got back from Omaha, she didn't speak to me for over 2 weeks. Of course, I felt hurt and angry at her for treating me that way. I guess I never really understood the depth of her despair at my obstinacy in my refusal to listen to her. When I actually signed up, she felt that I didn't love her enough or I would have not done it.

A couple of weeks later, she finally came into the store close to closing time and asked me to come see her when I got off. I was still angry at the treatment that I had received by her and I told her no. I wouldn't come up to her place. I went home that night on my bike. We didn't speak for almost another month. By this time we were both missing each other something terrible and yet, neither one wanted to apologize. I felt that if I told her I was sorry, I would have to do as she asks. What she didn't understand was that, once you signed the papers, you just didn't go to the Recruiter and say "OOPS", I guess I made a mistake. Mr. Sargent, I guess I don't really want to be a Marine." Once you signed, you were committed at least to boot camp, once there, they might find you unfit, but that's not really likely. Besides, I didn't want to be found unfit. I wanted to be a Marine.

We finally sat down and talked one Saturday afternoon, but things were never the same. Our stubbornness had driven a wedge between us that couldn't be removed. For the next couple of months all I did was go to school and work.

When graduation arrived, she came to congratulate me, we hugged and both of us cried. Two days later I was gone. I never saw her again.

Two months into my Basic Training, I received word from my Mom that Carol had been killed in a farm accident on her Dad's farm. Since I was not a family member, no one had notified me. She was already dead and buried by the time that I got the letter from my Mom.

When I received the news, it left a big hole in my heart. I always felt that once I was done with Basic and ITR, I would go home on leave and we could patch things up.

Ideas...

Grace and I went down the old river road toward the south. I pulled into a parking spot on the east side of the road overlooking an old Ox Bow channel of the river that had been cut off by flood erosion. It was always full of water, which must have come up through the sand, and there was a gravel layer that seemed to be 20-30 foot below the river bottom. Because it was still water, there were a lot of birds that made their home there. We sat there and watched the ducks, flickers and an occasional Great Blue Heron pacing through the shallows looking for frogs or crayfish.

"What did your Grandpa advise you to do when you talked with him last night?" she asked.

"You know, that is the funny thing. He didn't give me any advice at all. We rode and I talked. Then we walked the horses and I talked some more. He really didn't do anything but listen to me," I told her.

"I am sure when we get back today, he will have digested what I told him, and we will talk again. He's pretty slow to ever give anyone advice. If he thinks he has something that I should consider, he will tell me."

We sat watching the birds and Grace scooted over to lean against me. I put my arm around her and we just sat there, enjoying the quiet and the bird songs.

I think I would like to go back to the boat and get her ready to go on a long distance cruise. Maybe, I will take 3-4 months to just explore the Caribbean, with Al and Bernie, if they will go with us.

"What do you think about doing that?" I asked her.

Since the meeting in lawyer's office, my mind had been filled with rapidly changing thoughts of what if I should do this or that. This had been the first time that I had actually voiced any of them and had immediately regretted it. I had just assumed that whatever I had decided to do, Grace would just naturally want to do it, too. I was remembering just a few short months ago, when I had been the one with no options, I had felt somewhat powerless when confronted with Grace's wealth and position. I guess I was not the only one who had to adjust to the new me.

"I don't know if I can get away for that long," she replied.

"Well, it was just a thought. Maybe it wouldn't be smart to do that this soon. Maybe I should go spend time with them learning all I can about ship handling and get better acquainted with what is involved in being a boat owner. Then I can learn more about the land that is in the estate." I quickly backed off and stared into the water.

I was finding it hard to follow the attorney's advice and not run off half-cocked in one direction or another, or follow one idle thought or idea.

"Come on, let's go back to the farm," I said. As I reached for the key, Grace's hand closed around mine. She stopped me and she pulled me to her lips. We kissed softly. It was a kiss of reassurance.

"Gary, I love you, just take a deep breath and slow down. Everything will become clear in the next few weeks and months. Honey, please know that I will be there for you. Whatever happens, I promise to be by your side."

I guess just because I had and "idea", it didn't mean I had to act on every foolish one that popped into my head. I didn't automatically have to act upon it, just because I now had the means to pretty much do whatever strange thing that came to mind.

I started the car and we headed back.

When we got back to the farm, it looked like the whole town had turned out. In reality, it was just my extended family and some of the close neighbors. As we got out of the car, Grace was taken by Grandma to meet the ladies of the neighborhood. I walked over to join the men who were standing around the well head platform. My Grandpa was not a drinker. His one concession to drinking was a small amount of Wild Turkey in a glass, with 7-Up as a mixer. At family get togethers, he would trot that bottle out and all the men would get one toddy. He gave me one, too. This was a first. I guess he must have finally felt I was grown up enough to have one. No one ever got a second one. The bottle would be put away for the next time.

While we waited for lunch to be served, I was peppered with questions about Florida. I was the only one there who had ever been to Florida. Most of the men wanted to know about the fishing.

Grandma finally rang the dinner bell and we all trooped into the house to a feast that made the huge old dining room table groan from the weight. You would have thought my Grandma thought she was feeding a thrashing crew. No one ever went away hungry from her table. The only thing on the table that she didn't personally produce was the peanut butter that my Grandpa used to love to mix with honey and smear on hot baking power biscuits. Everything else had been grown or raised on the farm.

Closing a Chapter in my life...

As I sat there listening to the conversation and laughter swirl around Grace and I at the table, I felt like I was having another one of those out of body experiences. I realized that I was seeing the end of an era. I didn't have the perspective that I do today, 40 years later. What I was witnessing that day was something that would soon pass from the conciseness of America. It was a time when families came together and neighbors helped neighbors for the good of all. The early 70's were the beginning of the end of the small family farm. It would only be a few years when the WWII farmers started to retire and their kids, raised on hard work on the farm, would want the bright lights and glitz of the big city. As the old farmers died off, the kids for the most part sold off the farm or one of them would buy out their brothers and sisters and try to make a go of it. Lots of farms were sold off to larger farmers and that meant less places for families to raise their kids. They left the farm to go to the city and find jobs. The kids had no responsibility of chores after school, they ran the streets.

As this happened the small towns lost business, as the farmer was the back bone of the local economy. The towns survived because of the family farm. It took a couple of decades, all too soon, the towns started to disappear. The work ethic and self reliance of the pioneer was rapidly being lost to a culture of the Free Love Generation of the 60's and 70's. We are still suffering from that generation today. Many people today seem to believe the government owes them a living, or somehow they have a right to the money earned by someone else. But who am I to speculate today removed by 40 years? I was a product of the 60's and 70's and, suddenly, I was rich through no work of my own.

Later on that day, Grandpa and I went for a walk down to the river bridge to do a little fishing. As we walked the mile or so to the bridge, he asked me if I had come to any decisions.

"Gary, you know I don't like to tell a man what to do, so I won't. I will just tell you that I have faith in you to do the right thing in any situation. Before you take any actions, always think about what the long term consequences of any decision might be. I know there is no way to really know the answer beforehand, but a level head and common sense will take you a long way. You have those, and I hope you have learned to use them. I have loved you and your brothers like you were my own sons," he told me.

We caught a few nice channel cats for the table that night and walked back home. That afternoon we worked at the chores together, like we had done so many times before. We were comfortable in each other's company.

That evening, Grace and I went for a walk out into the pasture. Now this was something of a new experience for her, my Grandpa was an old fashioned farmer. He believed animals did better if they could run and exercise than to be cooped up in a barn. There were sows with little pigs running loose, as well as some beef cattle and a horse or two. All lived companionably with one another in the pasture. They had about 100 acres of oak woods and broam grass. Gooseberries grew under the oaks. Here and there, were wild raspberry brambles. They had thorns an inch long. The raspberries were wild and tangled in huge clumps. You really took your life in your hands trying to steal a few berries to eat.

There was Rock creek running through the bottom of the pasture for the animals to have fresh clean water and places to lay down to cool off in the heat of the summer. I wanted to show Grace our old swimmin' hole. It was a bit too cool for a dip, but I did take my shoes off and wade in and look for crawdads under the rocks. I found a nice large one and took him out to show Grace. Now this is a woman, who scuba dives with sharks but, when she saw me coming with a crawdad, you would have thought the hounds of hell were after her. She shrieked and ran as fast as she could to get away from that thing. I really had no intention of chasing her with it, but since she wanted to run, I ran after her.

"Gary, you keep away from me with that thing. If you come one foot closer, I will scream my head off," she told me.

"Oh' please don't, you will frighten the poor thing." I laughed as I turned around and headed back to the stream to return him to the water. After I put him in the water, I turned around she was right behind me and tried to push me in the creek. We wrestled a bit and then we stood and held each other for a moment.

"Have you decided on what you want to do?" she asked.

"Yeah, let's head back home tomorrow. OK?" I said.

"All right, I will call Ben this evening and tell him we will meet them at the plane tomorrow morning."

Going forward...

The flight back to Florida was uneventful. Once we landed, we made our way home and fell into bed. I had enjoyed our short visit home. Nothing much had really been resolved. What had mostly happened was that time and distance had allowed me to put decisions in the proper perspective. Initially, the idea of dealing with wealth had seemed to be a very large mountain that had to be climbed. A little distance and some time had reduced the feeling that it was something that I needed to get done right away.

The next morning, Grace went off to the store and I drove down to see Bernie and Al. The day was overcast and the small craft warnings were not hopeful. When I arrived, I found them on board their boat, checking gear and getting things ready for the next opportunity to go to fishing. Nothing much was said and they just put a mop and a sponge in my hand and told me to get to work cleaning the Head. I guess I should have expected this as the newbie always gets the crap jobs.

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