A Father's Day Story

The Truck

Dad's '48 Chevy truck looked something like this

My grandson Jamie, loved to ride in "Grampa's truck"; something I can fully appreciate. Some of my earliest memories are about going with my dad in the truck.
Dad was a farmer in Lincoln County South Dakota, but always had something else going on the side. He filled silos, sold Archer Oil products and did trucking for neighboring farmers. His trucks were straight, single axle with dual wheels, two and a half ton with a stake box; a typical farm truck configuration at the time. The first I can remember was a 1930s Dodge, but all I recall is how hard it was to start in the winter. Dad would crawl underneath, drain about half a pint of oil into a hog feeding pan, and throw a lit match in the pan. When the oil was all burned, the truck would start. Next was a '48 Chevy and after that came a '51 International. The International had a hydraulic hoist, so if you were hauling oats to the grain elevator, you wouldn't have to push and scoop it all at the elevator. Some grain elevators had a hoist system. The trucks front wheels were stopped on a rectangular outline on the floor, then the elevator man would pull a lever and a rectangular platform would rise up lifting the front of the truck. Once I was in the cab when they hoisted it up. The elevator guy got all excited when he saw me waving to him from the side window of the truck, but I yelled down to him that I was OK. Actually I was enjoying the ride and I was fascinated by the the patterns the grain made as it ran down to and out the endgate of the truck box.

Nearly every small town by a railroad had a grain elevator.

On occasion I would be allowed to go along when he hauled grain to the elevator in Alcester, Hudson, or Canton; or livestock to Sioux City or Sioux Falls. Stopping at a cafe for lunch was my favorite part; I would order a hamburger and a bottle of "orange pop". Often we stopped other places for lumber, spare parts, paint or hardware; sometimes I would get to go in with Dad, sometimes I would have to stay in the truck.

BB Guns

I think I was seven or eight when my neighbor Paul got a BB gun; Paul was two years older. It was a Daisy Scout and I really wanted one of those BB guns. I imagined how I would shoot tin cans off fence posts and maybe even pesty birds like sparrows and pigeons. I was always reading about BB guns in the Montgomery Ward catalog and the back pages of comic books.
On the way back from one trip to Sioux City we stopped in front of the Gamble's hardware store in Beresford. I asked Dad if I could come in with him. He said, "No, you better stay here this time." Before Dad got out he asked me if there was something I wanted. I wanted to say, "A BB gun.", but I was afraid to, so I said, "I don't know." Dad said, "Are you sure there's nothing you want." I said, "I don't know."
When Dad came out he was carrying a long box wrapped in brown paper. I asked him what was in the box, he said, "Just a broom." As it turned out, it was not just a BB gun, it was a Daisy Red Ryder Repeater. The same one with which Ralphie nearly "shot his eye out" in Jean Shepard's "A Christmas Story".

Daisy Red Ryder Air Rifle

That summer I shot a lot of tin cans, missed a lot of birds and squirrels, but never shot anyone's eye out. Later that summer when my cousins Paul and Wesley came to visit, Wesley shot Paul in the butt from something like 200 feet. The Daisy Red Ryder had a pretty good range for a BB gun.
After my mom extracted the BB with Paul wailing and shouting curses at his brother and Wesley trying to contain a grinning chuckle, Mom put the Daisy Red Ryder up on top of the kitchen cupboard for the duration of their visit.