Pebbles From The Past

Periodically from somewhere a memory comes to my mind that that I never have spoken or written. It may be trivial or very private, but unless I share it no one will ever know what went on with me back there. So what, you might wonder? I just hate to pass away and those bitty hard memories be forever lost. So here begins a collection of Pebbles, hard facts so small they could be lost to posterity.

When I was about 18, we had no car, which were not yet allowed in our church. Yet I wanted to drive. So I asked a friend, Jake Shetler, if I could drive his with the license examiner with me. I did OK, almost, but when I made a left turn without waiting for oncoming traffic, the examiner advised more practice. Just-as well, as we did not yet have cars.

The above owner of that car, which was a 1949 Cadillac, came to our house before cars were allowed, and asked my father, the bishop, if he could have a car. Apparently my father hedged on the issue as the church was not quite yet approving cars. But Jake went out and bought this Cadillac to Dad's disappointment. Dad was that gentle about it that he thought he had given a negative answer and was surprised with Jake getting that car then.

The first time I drove a car on the road was with a friend, Edward Borntrager, from his place on CR 38 to our place on the north farm. Not knowing better, I actually sped up to 50 mph on States Road 13, with my friend sitting on the front edge of the seat. Turned out OK, but I should have been more careful as a novice driver.

When we were just married, we traveled to Red Lake, Ontario for our required service. As the church was changing practices, I felt bold enough to not grow a beard when I got married as was the custom.  When Dad came to visit us of course he noticed that bare chin. Kindly he teased me even though he could have been severe as the bishop who was to enforce the rules of the church. But he only teased me about my bare chin. Rubbing my chin with a finger, he asked, “Doesn't anything grow here?”

The first little trip with our first family car, a 1949 Dodge, did not turn out too well. I took my Dad into Michigan, probably on a Sunday morning for church, or whatever. Somewhere over there the engine was not running normally. We learned that the engine oil was too low. I don't remember whether we were able to drive the car all the way home or if we added oil, but anyway, the engine needed an “overhaul” But in those days we only had to pay $50.00 for the job. Actually a week's wages at that time for me.

When I was 10 years old, Grandma Hochstetler had a stroke; in fact two strokes. The first one she was partly disabled and she recovered partly with the use of her affected hand. But her mouth was so affected she could not pronounce her words clearly. With time it improved and we learned somewhat better what she would try to speak. But the next time, she was disabled and had to stay in bed and could not communicate, until she finally died.  It was a crises for the family as we were all there a lot as they lived only a half mile from us.

After Grandma died, I would often go to be with Grandpa overnight. While he seemed old he was probably not over 74 or so. He always knelt down to pray when I was there, probably morning and evening. We ate in the living room- it was winter time- and the kitchen was cold. He would pull out the top drawer of the commode and lay a wide board across it for a table. Once he forgot if we had prayed before eating and he asked me if we had. It seems he enjoyed having me there with him then.