One Year and Counting

We don't know when you started viewing this blog and in fact just discovered the first posting on the blog occurred a couple months earlier than we recalled, on June 5, 2010. The posting was titled The Northwood Swim Pool and read:

Found by Marsha Gaarder Hasseler in the ancient news section of the Northwood Anchor:

May 19, 1960
Four lifeguards were hired for the Northwood swimming pool for the season and are Craig Pangburn, Sharyl Knutson, Harry Rogers and Craig Ensign. All have earned the senior lifesaving certificate of the American Red Cross. Donna Davenport and Jane Pacey will be lifeguards at the wading pool.

Today it seems that was a lightweight story to kick this off but it is what it is, and now we are close to 150 posts later. And in need of more stories from all you readers. Most blogs last no more than 90 days, so there's a little bit of pride here, that we're one year and counting, and many of you have been extraordinarily helpful to float reminders of what we enjoyed 50 years ago, thus keeping this alive. And we ain't done yet, especially if you submit your own stories and photos.

The blog started out kind of by accident. After a few emails flew back and forth a year ago, Marsha sent a couple to us including notice of the above big event from 1960, with a note saying, "Wouldn't it be nice if we had a place to store all these stories so they're available at our 50th reunion in 2012." From that suggestion and a few personal questions like, "What if I . . . ?" we discovered the Google blog system is relatively easy to use, photo friendly, available for others to expound on any topic while restrictive in who can be let in, and best of all, free. And if you've been following the blog, you now notice a new background template - celebrating the first year.

We have heard a planning committee met last week to begin the process of the 50th so we can indeed expound on any of these topics and brag - if we want to. Bob and Vickie Hall, Cheryl Calabria, and Karen Abrahms met in Northwood and have since had communications with Larry Holstad. We're sure to hear more from them as the planning moves forward, and in the meantime you may want to mark your calendar for the four days of July 4 - 7 as they narrow in on best possible dates.

You might also contact them or nkhs62@gmail.com with your ideas on how you'd like to celebrate. A variety show? That's what Merrilee Reid suggested once. Well, maybe not exactly a variety show, but she can fill you in. Personally, we think a Kangaroo Court is imperative, if for no other reason than to finally bring Stan Arendts to justice for his flagrant violations of the - er - law.

We're kind of rambling a little bit here, from the blog to the history to the committee to the reunion, but all of it leads us back to the same place, where we grew up - and dreams began.

Lee Leidal

BlogMaster

'62 Class Will

The Yearbook says, "We, the Senior Class of 1962, being of unsound mind . . . bequeath the following to the underclassmen (on a selected basis):

Stanton Arendts leaves his Fabian crewcut to Ron Tenold in hopes that he will have the allure that Stanton had.

Sandra Charlson leaves her ability to blush to Karen Huso.

Marsha Gaarder leaves her study habits to Jim Watts. May he use them and profit by them in his senior year.

Cheryl Grube leaves her ability to catch a man to Janice Folkerts.

Charles Hendrickson leaves his gentlemanly ways to Evans Olmsted.

Larry Holstad leaves his football suit to Bob Harris. May it fit him well and bring him to great fame.

Phil Johnson leaves his "scoring" ability to Obed Ladd, and his basketball shoes to John Ellingson.

Ralph Thompto leaves his favorite record "Hot Rod Lincoln" to Sandra Thoen.

After much consideration of how to address these observations, including the remainder of them in the Yearbook, we chose to let them stand as they are, for all to consider. Email nkhs62@gmail.com if you don't have access to a yearbook with the full list and would like a copy.

Back Home Again - on the Farm

Last week I had the pleasure of a Farm Tour - of the farms where I grew up, or my ancestors did their homesteading, along a seven-mile stretch of the State Line. My dad, now 93, enjoyed getting out, and still has a million stories to tell, and perhaps I am finally getting old enough to ask them.

Our last stop was the farm a couple miles north of Northwood where I grew up. And when I saw this open barn door I couldn't resist taking a picture. The door is no longer a half-door and it seems about a mile wide when I consider how many times I got my knees slammed against the jamb by the horse heading to her stall. I checked - there is no flesh stuck on the door jamb. And then I double-checked the door itself and realized the opening has been widened and the door widened to match, then the half-doors were joined together, and suddenly in my mind this door was only two feet wide again and my legs indeed "felt the pain."

Perhaps your family would have similar stories to share with you like those I have gotten from Dad, and I encourage you to ask about them if you haven't already done so. On that seven-mile stretch of road that we toured there are eight locations that were "in the family" at one time or another plus a church, a creamery, and a neighborhood "convenience store" known then as a general store, the latter two razed at some point in the last 20 or 30 years. And the first two houses that I lived in? They were both razed in the last 2 years as well.

I should circle back to that general store - it was the Deer Creek Store, the source of anything and everything you could not raise on your farm, the meeting point for farmers to share some stories, and the oasis in the desert after delivering milk to the creamery across the street. Candy. Lots of it. And I had my share.

Since we took that trip I have used Google Satellite Maps to locate all the properties on the tour, and can quite easily identify each one of them. Then Lonna and I looked for her home in Lake Mills on South Winnebago; it was not as easily found, but it is there. I encourage you to find your "home" by that method as well. If it's a farm and the barn door is still open, bear in mind the consequences of riding horses while visiting.

The SCA Water Tower

Stanton Arendts reported his adventures climbing the Kensett Water Tower and we now have photo documentation as to the difficulty of that climb, as submitted by Ruby Flaaten.

Wisely, Ruby did not choose to make the climb herself, and in fact took this shot from the safety of some distance. If you look closely you can see the diagonal wires that Stan negotiated on occasions when he was looking for a greater thrill in the climb. And you wonder, "What the heck was he thinking?"

The photo should open in a new window if you double-click it, thus creating a larger image for better viewing and a higher level of appreciation of the skills of a teen growing up in Kensett, IA.

Thanks, Ruby!

Haute Couture, 1962

Ah, the Yearbook and its revelations of culture. Here you see four of the Class of '62's finest, Serena, Julie, Betty and Gwen, the four Queens - at the Senior Tea on May 7, 1962.

I even decided I should write this as myself, not the Blogmaster, because it may be taken as a sign of mocking and we don't want or intend to go there because the Blog itself is pure. This story is, however, another commentary on the changing times and thus worthy of consideration.

Not until June 23, 1972, did Title IX change opportunities for the women, as discussed previously in this blog, and in the early '60s at least, the women were apparently expected to be lady-like, to hold the cup between forefinger and thumb, to sip, and to converse politely about polite things.

Not that they don't converse politely today, but my how things have changed, haven't they? I don't know what group sponsored this tea and it makes no matter, because it was indeed an effort on their part to introduce the young women to social graces and fine things. Then, that same summer, we all learned about Pool and its effect on the rebellious young men who would be attempting to sweep these women off their feet, nicotine stains on the hand doing the sweeping.

Just seems funny, doesn't it? How long has it been since this tradition was set aside?

"Number, Please"

Your phone number, that is. Just like Richard Holstad reminded us the operator would ask when we picked up the receiver.

To help you out, Mike McQuarters ('59) sent along this 1954 Northwood phone book, albeit with a few pages missing. But you may find your number or a friend's number in here, and it's a lot of fun to look. Here are some that we found:

Helgeland, Kermit 6-F22

Holstad, Arleigh 73-W

Johnson, Lloyd 463-W12

Leidal, Curtis 457-J1

Vold, C O 404-W

We have no idea what those numbers represent, but seeing them may bring back some memories. To get to the full phone book plus some ads from the Anchor, click on this link.

We especially liked the hints for handling your phone, i.e., "training", included as Northwestern Bell Telephone Company ads:

"If your receiver is off the hook, your telephone is out of service!"

"For extra fast Long Distance Service, call by number!" In other words, don't waste the time of the operator by forcing them to look up your number for you.

"Wait at least one minute for your party to answer the phone so you can avoid a callback."

Amazingly enough, there are two ads for Typewriter Stores, both in Mason City. You sure don't see those anymore.

Not a "Superior Autobiographical Memory"

Maybe you watched the latest edition of "60 Minutes" in which five individuals with Superior Autobiographical Memory were interviewed. These people, including Marilu Henner of "Taxi" fame, have an incredible memory to remember the day of the week for any date in their lifetime - AND what they were doing on that day.

On May 16, 1961, what exactly were you doing? Any recall? How about where you were that morning? Or how you spent the evening? What about Commencement in '62? Do you know the day and date?

Perhaps you might recall YESTERDAY. And sometimes that's a stretch, so we limit ourselves to some generic memories in this blog, like these that Richard Holstad passes along from the summers he spent on the Forland farm with his friend Steve ('64): "(the memories) had to do with such things as a mouse running up one pant leg and down the other ….. riding their horse “King” …. baling hay and storing it in the barn …. electrocuting a mouse (for running up my pant leg) using the hand crank generator from an old telephone ….. climbing the windmill …. Eating watermelon until we wanted to float away …. Catching fire flies -- Ice skating in the winter time … learning to drive the Willys Jeep out in the pasture …. Mowing the lawn ….. Steve had a go-cart that we loved to run full-throttle on the gravel road and then turn 90 degrees abruptly at the corner …. On and on."

But he can't tell us the exact day that any of these things occurred. No matter. He also reminds us through his personal autobiographical memory of the local phone company operation, that calling someone meant turning the crank or picking up the phone to hear the operator say, "Number, please." And if you needed to call someone in Clear Lake, or Kensett for the Northwood folks, you had to say, "Long Distance, please," and you would say the name of the residence or business you wanted to reach. (Check the "Links to Our Town" page for a few slideshow memories of the phone book that was used.)

Phones, of course, all had wires attached both from the phone itself and from your home to the phone company, so if a bad storm came through and the lines went down, your service literally went down as well. In the attached photo from the collection he has acquired from the Forlands, Richard is on the phone with LaVonne and Steve looking on, along with an exchange student on the left, whose name will be entered here when one of the Forlands pass it along. Our question, of course, to tie this story all together is: what date was this photo taken? Let's see how close they can get. School year doesn't count.

Post-Note: you know that we have aged when the spell-check does not recognize the word "Willys."