The Superior Express -

Elsewhere on this page, Gloria Schlaefli writes about her memories of the country roads of our youth.

While we were raised in different parts of Jewell County, our roads were much the same and we share similar experiences. The biggest difference is the location of our childhood homes. Mine was on a highway that was hard-surfaced when I was three-years-old. That wasn’t Gloria’s case. The best she’s ever had is gravel or ground limestone surfacing.

The country roads were challenging at times and other times they could be fun. I suspect it was at the time of the 1942 general election, the roads were so muddy, my parents had to walk to the school house to vote.

The day before the 1935 flood, my father helped a neighbor deliver milk to customers in Superior. As the river was out and automobile bridges across the river were closed, they carried the milk, walked the Sante Fe railroad track and crossed the river on the railroad bridge. That bridge was about 5 miles from their house but because the direct route roads had steep hills they couldn’t climb with an automobile, they had to take a 10 mile detour over muddy roads that were hardly navigable but had less steep hills.

In the fun category, I list toboggan rides on snow covered dirt roads that today Nuckolls County would classify as minium maintenance roads. My father had made the sled he pulled behind a car or pickup. Depending upon their age and size of the riders, it would hold four to six people. Spills were frequent but that only added to the fun. When we got cold, we piled into the tow vehicle to warm up.

One spring afternoon my country school was to host Gloria’s country school for a softball game. When the game was a washout, my teacher decided to let her school out early. All the pupils were stuffed into her 1940s vintage black Chevrolet sedan and she set out to take us all to our homes. But the route included unsurfaced dirt roads. The car never slid into the ditch but on one or more hills the kids had to get out and push when the car couldn’t get enough traction to climb the hill.

The opening of pheasant season used to draw droves of hunters to the area. Often opening weekend was wet and the roads muddy.

One year a hunter from the city stopped at the West Third Street car wash while my father had it closed for maintenance. The hunter asked not to wash his fancy, mud covered van but to wash his daughter. They had gotten stuck and the daughter got out to push. In the process, she was covered with mud. Dad tried to explain the car wash was closed while he cleaned the mud pit. However, her father pleaded for an opportunity to wash his daughter as the cafes would not allow her to enter while covered with mud. Dad felt sorry for the family, and turned the car wash pump on and allowed her father to spray her down. I suspect she was wet and cold but not mud splattered when they finally got into a cafe.

It was a muddy, disagreeable job, but at the gasoline station we were frequently asked to either put on or take off the car chains country residents used to travel the roads between their houses and the hard surfaced highway.

As the highway would quickly tear up the chains, the drivers were willing to pay us to remove and reinstall the chains. I forget what we charged but since we would often fix tires for 65 cents, I suspect installing chains earned us less than the cost of a tire repair.

Tire repair was an important part of the gasoline station business, the service also made memories.

One night I was asked to repair the inside dual on a truck loaded with wheat. I got the tire off and fixed but when I went to reinstall the inflated tire, the truck needed to be raised. I was almost crushed when the jack failed and the truck fell.

Another day a truck driver, racing to get as many loads in as possible that day, didn’t want to be delayed waiting for a tire repair. He asked if he could immediately get a large rear tire repaired. I was alone and suggested the repair would be faster if he went into town. He didn’t want to go to town and he didn’t want to wait and asked if he could use the station tools and do the work himself. I agreed and so wanting the fastest truck tire repair ever, he removed the tire and wheel from the tandem axle truck and prepared to disassemble it.

As he was angrily swinging the sledge to separate the tire and wheel, he missed the wedge and hit the tire. The sledge bounced back and struck his forehead. Dazed, he dropped the sledge, stumbled to the steps leading into the station office and sat down.

Dazed and with a splitting headache he didn’t say a word as he patiently waited for me to fix his tire in the free time I had between waiting on customers that stopped for other reasons. I suspect his day, and perhaps week, would have gone much better had he waited on me to do the entire job.

Over the years, we had a number of emergency workers stop at the station and ask for help in finding the location they were being called to. The country roads were not named nor were numbers assigned to the farm homes.

One night, law enforcement officers asked my father to go with them as they responded to a call on the south side of the Republican River and west of Highway 14. There are some pretty rugged and dead-end roads in that area. The officers said they weren’t familiar with the area and needed the help of someone who was.

En route they came across a parked automobile usually driven by a high school student who was also one of our customers. The driver of the patrol car said, “Let’s have some fun!” As the patrol car drew along side the parked vehicle, he switched on the vehicle’s emergency lights and hit the siren. Two heads popped up to see what was happening. He laughed and continued on without stopping to inquire why the students had parked on that lonely country road.

The night didn’t end on an enjoyable note. They never found the man who was supposedly wandering the area on foot. On one of the primitive roads, the patrol car became stuck. The good news is nobody in the car had to walk. The officer’s two-way radio was used to call the dispatcher and summon a wrecker.

One night while Highway 14 was under construction in northern Nuckolls County, Sen. Jim Exon wasn’t so fortunate for his car was not equipped with a two-way radio and cell phones hadn’t been invented.

He was supposed to speak at a meeting in Superior. When the senator didn’t arrive on time, the master of ceremonies began to stall. He was about to dismiss the meeting when the door opened and a muddy Jim Exon strode down the stairs and into the basement meeting room.

Exon explained that while governor he had allowed two hours for drive between Lincoln and Superior and had done the same the night.

En route he encountered a detour that would have taken him into Webster County and made him late for the meeting in Superior. Knowing Nebraska was laid out on a grid, he told his driver to detour a mile or two off the highway and then go south.

Well, you guessed it. Not all county roads are all weather roads. The senator and his driver became hopelessly stuck and somebody had to walk. Since the driver was following the senator’s direction, the senator chose to do the walking. I suspect getting stuck and walking for help earned Exon more votes that night than did his speech.

And there was the time a newcomer to the area got stuck on a muddy road near Nora. He didn’t know what to do and took the weather bureau’s winter storm advice. He stayed with his car. When he didn’t return home on time, his family became concerned for his safety and reported him missing. Emergency services personnel were called out to search for him.

After he was found, an always well-dressed resident of this area told me, “He should have done what I do. Whenever I get stuck, I take off my shoes and walk for help.”

Back in my college days, a high school friend was helping me with a picture assignment. After completing the assignment, she suggested a short cut via a seldom travelled field road. The shortcut didn’t save anytime. We got stuck. Fortunately, the nearest neighbor was home. With a long chain and his tractor, he was able to pull us back to solid ground. No more shortcuts for us that day.

One spring the mud on the country route I traveled to and from grade school was deep and I had to tie up my horses’s tail. Otherwise the poor animal’s tail would have been dragging in the mud

Had a furry friend who liked to ride in the car or truck with me. But Tippy didn’t like muddy roads. When riding in a vehicle slipping and sliding on a muddy road, Tippy tried to help by licking the driver’s face.