The Time Capsule: The search for a winning column

Heartiest congratulations to our general manager, who recently received a Master Columnist award.  Recognition of this nature is not easily achieved. I say that with some perspective—doing these things for 10 years without an honorable mention.   

While my congratulations are sincere, I’m envious. My grandpa used to say even a visually impaired hog finds an acorn now and then. Out of 600 columns it seems there must be one winner, so I went through my memory file trying to find it.     

Those based on interviews with people like Evelyn Birkby and Jim Zabel seemed pretty good. Birkby, a former radio show homemaker, was in her mid-90s when we chatted. She had just returned from taping a program with Iowa Public Television, was preparing to deliver a lecture on a college campus, catching up on email and working on her umpteenth book. Her husband was wondering when lunch would be ready. Evelyn took the time to share some memories and a couple of recipes. 

Zabel was fun. I called him for his favorite chili—chili and lutefisk being reliable items to write about—and his reminisces turned to a bizarre experience at a basketball game he once broadcast in Red Oak. I asked if stories of how he’d enjoyed fine restaurants and watering holes for years without picking up a tab were true.  He did not give a direct answer, but denied being cheap. “I’m just a person,” he said, “with a gift for bringing out generosity in others.”

Perhaps the column on the Aug. 26, 1942, air raid on Montgomery County deserves consideration. The world was at war, Pearl Harbor exposed our vulnerability, the enemy could strike anywhere, anytime. At mid-morning, they dropped out of the clouds; five aircraft, pilots intent, trained for the mission, bombs ready. And it actually happened. 

It was a preparedness drill, the pilots local guys, the bombs paper bags full of flour.  Bombardiers were accurate, though, hitting six barns, one occupied privy and stampeding Vernon Almgood’s fat cattle through the neighbor lady’s goldfish pond (OK, that part I made up. The rest is true.)

How about the column on Ed Peterson, who was elected sheriff in 1918?  Peterson wanted some new-fangled weaponry called teargas.  The supervisors agreed, but apparently there was some skepticism as to whether the stuff was as good as advertised. Peterson decided to show them. He tossed a grenade into their chambers while a meeting was in session. The courthouse had to be evacuated, so I suppose he made his point.

There was Miss White, a personal favorite. She was a loyal, cheerful, prize-winning egg-layer who spent her long and productive life on a farm near Red Oak. She died in the 1920s at the age of 15. This alone was remarkable, being the equivalent of a person living to be 312. Miss White, as far as I’ve been able to determine, is the only chicken ever to have her obituary printed on the front page.     

Or how about the column on the old boy who raised an 80-pound watermelon and sold it for $11,000? To a group that immediately sliced and ate it? There was one on a Red Oak family visiting Chicago in the fall of 1871.  Their stay was pleasant until Mrs. O’Leary’s cow kicked a lantern, half the city burned; the Hebards were flushed from their hotel and had to run for their lives.    

Actually, modern-day fire investigators, who weren’t there and can only guess, say Mrs. O’Leary’s cow got a bum rap. Someone in the barn was smoking, they speculate, the cow just an innocent bystander.   

I suppose this review of columns past, if nothing else, explains the lack of awards. 

Roy Marshall is a local historian and columnist for the Red Oak Express. He can be contacted at news@redoakexpress.com.