Epistles from Pap: Letters from the man known as 'The Will Rogers of Indiana' Part 18

Respectfully,

P.S. A real old time genuine Hoosier never speaks of the Indiana brand as being a "maple syrup."

A.E.D.

WHERE'S THE BEEF?

Undated note attached to a package of frozen beef shipped by rail.

To whomsoever reads this:

This baggage contains some frozen beef an old Hoosier pappy is taking his daughter and grandchildren in Worcester, Ma.s.s. It left Greencastle, Ind., at 12:50 p.m.(?)3-29-49 on N.Y.C. No. 12 (Southwestern). The old pappy and his meat will probably part company at Buffalo, where his car will be transferred to N.Y.C.

No. 28 (New England States) that evidently does not carry baggage. So, where and how his meat will go from Buffalo on, only you will know--the old pappy hopes the quickest and most direct way, and therefore respectfully asks your help, if you can give any.

The meat you are sitting on just didn't happen--like paw paws and wild black berries. It is out of an 1,800-pound, nearly three- year-old Hereford steer, dry-lot and corn-fed for over a year. In case you don't know . . . the 1947-48 and 1948-49 winters in Indiana weren't exactly like Miami Beach of a sunny Sunday afternoon. . . Rain, snow and sleet. Cold rubber boots in February mud. Sockless shoes in July dust. All the clothes you can pile on in winter, and about all the law allows you to take off in hot summer. . . The cement water tank has to be kept full of clean drinking water in summer, and the tank warmer going on below freezing days.

"Seminole IV," as we called him, to finish out well, had to have a clean place in the barn to eat, to stand in, and to sleep in.

That called for a pitch fork, a strong back, and a conveniently placed manure spreader. Fresh bedding, feed grinder going every other day, a handy block of salt, a little ground alfalfa hay, the gates and corn crib doors kept shut. . . We'll say nothing about the 150 odd bushels of ground corn it took to put Seminole to 1,800 pounds, but it didn't just sift itself into his feed trough automatically--from nowhere.

No. There was more to Seminole than the well-trimmed sirloin steak you see on the kitchen table all ready for the broiler.

And so it may happen after grandpappy is gone and the grandchildren are grown-up and in well-worn harness themselves, they will say, "Well, the old fellow was a pretty good sort after all, but, on the other hand, it does seem that with the War prices they had in his day, he could have left a little more if he had tried a little harder."

Just in the event you want to make some comments and have the time and inclination to tell of Seminole's progress and last whereabouts, I am enclosing some addressed post cards for your convenience. Nothing compulsory--wholly voluntary.

I thank you.

Prayerfully,

CUBAN DIVORCE, NOT HORSE DISEASE

June 17, 1949 U.S. Senator Homer E. Capehart Washington, D.C.

My dear Senator:

I am in rather urgent need of learning all the grounds for Divorce in Cuba. Is that information easily available to you there in Washington? If so, I would greatly appreciate such information. The information I am seeking is of considerable value to some interested clients here.

In your experience as Senator you have doubtless had some rare requests from the "folks back home." This inquiry of mine should rank rather high. A year ago . . . I could not then visualize my divorce practice getting much beyond the confines of the State of Indiana.

This letter reminds me of an experience I had long years ago. . .

I wrote my Congressman, Ralph Moss, asking if he would send me a copy of Jefferson's Manual. In due course of mail here came a rather well-bound copy of "The Diseases of Horses," and a note saying he had had considerable difficulty complying with my request as the edition was exhausted. How it happened that way, I will never know--nor did Mr. Moss. . .

A BETTER USE FOR 'REMOVABLE SEATS'?

June 24, 1949 Case & Sons Robinson, Illinois

Gentlemen: I'm having a devil of a time with a Case lavatory in the second floor bathroom here at home, and to me it seems far rougher than it should be. The cold water faucet sprung a drip--a most persistent drip. My friend and plumber, Mr. Lee Reeves, came up from time to time and eventually diagnosed the case (no intended pun on your name) as the water in the cold faucet having cut or worn a groove across the top of the removable seat for that faucet. He had none to fit, so he sort of filed the groove out, said the repair would probably be temporary, and in the meantime we'd both begin a quest for Case removable seats that would fit.

I went to Indianapolis to the Central supply Co. They said they had none, but if they did they'd have to know the number or size of the lavatory, as different-sized lavatories had different- sized removable seats. I came home but could find no number. . .

I bought that lavatory from you in person, direct, about 1942--or just about the time the Government stopped your selling to the proletariat. I was frantic for some bathroom fixtures. The family had taken a fancy to yours on account of its alleged quietness.

The girls were in the University here. It was brooded among my womenfolk that every time they had company the "old man" started the water going in the bathrooms and it sounded like Coulee Dam after a hard rain. I got in the car and drove to Robinson. You folks finally fixed me up with two lavatories. I brought them home in the car. It must have been that at that same time you ordered me a bath tub from Louisville or Cincinnati. . .

In due time the old you-know-what started her drip, drip, drip, getting worse. . . Yesterday Mr. Reeves came up with an a.s.sortment of removable seats he had collected. He took out the offending removable seat, and sure enough, the water or pixies or gremlins had again cut a channel across the top of said removable seat. He thought he had a removable seat that would fit--it seemed the same size as the original--but it didn't. In desperation he gave up the job. We turned off the cold water intake at the valve underneath. He took the old offending removable seat for further efforts to get a duplicate. We heartily d.a.m.ned removable seats of all and every kind and character and wheresoever situated, together with the companies who made 'em.

Woe is me. Evil days have come. The half has not been told herein. In my troubled sleep I am beset with removable seats. In my waking hours I am confounded by removable seats. Time was only yesteryear when I didn't know, or care, what a removable seat was. Within a fortnight or so removable seats have become deadly --like unto a cobra or black widow. The neighbors are clandestinely talking about a Guardian . . .

Can't you do something for us? Can't you find the original invoice (somewhere near 1942) or can't you decide from this enclosed masterpiece of a drawing of mine what kind and size of removable seats we are needing, and send me four (two for each lavatory, just in case)? I need removable seats. I long for removable seats. Send them with the compliments of the Company, or else enclose a bill and I'll gladly pay it--I suppose. I'm not so sure about the "gladly" part. . .

And yet, withal, removable seats of a sort could be a boon. I am thinking now if they could be available to our womenfolk who have reached or pa.s.sed the age of 40 years, say. We live here in the older, more conservative part of town--what you might call the Eastern Star and DAR section. I have mentally canva.s.sed our one block. If you can devise a practical feminine removable seat, I can give you every reasonable a.s.surance you will get from one to two orders in every house and apartment in our block. I personally guarantee one order. This being true, then visualize all the States (particularly the corn belt), and then the entire known world, with special stress on Holland, parts of Germany and all of Italy--to say nothing about the Eskimos and Africans. It will stagger you, as your faucet removable seat has staggered, yea, paralyzed me.

And thus I leave it. Do something, I beseech you.

Prayerfully, Andrew E. Durham

In subsequent correspondence to daughter Margaret, Pap related that the above letter had the desired effect, because by return mail the company sent him four removable seats, at no charge.

However, the world is still awaiting action on his suggestion for a broader application of removable seat technology.

OF QUESTIONABLE REPUTE

November 5, 1949 Hon. Claud Bowers U.S. Minister to Chile Santiago, Chile

My dear Amba.s.sador: This is a voice from the long, long ago. It must have been about 1904 you were a candidate for Congress against old man Holiday. I was just out of college. During the campaign you made some very forceful and logical speeches backed by excellent oratory. I attended and was fascinated--got the political bug. I am not quite sure I got in on what we called the "Week's County Drive"

of your campaign, where the "small fry" in the last cars of the cavalcade ate miles and miles of gravel and road dust kicked up by the cars on ahead. If not, then I sure got in on them later.

My daughter, Aura May Durham, and I hope to arrive in Santiago, December 20, 1949, during a rather extended trip into South America. I am enclosing a copy of our alleged itinerary. We are having considerable--very considerable--trouble arranging for some six visas, or their equivalents. But we expect to arrive on schedule if humanly possible, provided I retain my heretofore good health and reasonably fair mental facilities. I have been vaccinated and "shot" for about everything except treason, but my lack of a criminal record is universally questioned south of the Equator. Our local Chief of Police has, for the past four weeks, valiantly signed varying doc.u.ments denying varying insinuations I have a criminal record and . . . our local banker has spent long nights compiling "letters of commendations and responsibility"

that would tend to meet the requirements. . .

All this and much more has gotten me to where I am. It is too much for a small-town Hoosier lawyer to stand--and a Democrat to boot. And so, if on or about December 20th, you see a rather sprightly young woman leading a doddering old man in his upper 60's into the lobby of the Carrera Hotel, then charitably reflect, "it was not always so with him."

Naturally, I would be immensely pleased to see you.

Yours, for more respect and credibility South of the Border for small-town Hoosier Democrats, Andrew E. Durham

SPECULATION NO, BOARDERS MAYBE

July 17, 1950

Dear Footser, Your AT&T dividend check just came this morning. The Quaker came the latter part of last week. I waited until both were in before mailing same to you. You evidently have 32 shares of the former and 10 of the latter--not a bad showing for one of your age--far more investment than I had at your age. Looks like, with a little more investment, you will be getting something like $1 per day from investments alone. That will be something not exactly to be sneezed at. . .

Annabelle Lee wrote me that someone had advised her to sell her Quaker and take her profit, lay the money aside and then invest in something else at a low price. That, to my way of looking, is bad advice. The money might lay and lay, and then when she did invest, she might buy something that would not be so good. Then too she would have to pay income taxes on the profit. . . Good stocks do not rise or fall rapidly. It's the "cats and dogs" that do that. And there is where the speculators come in. They are supposed to know a good deal about "cats and dogs" . . . Two or three or four years ago, I bought 100 shares of General Motors for about $4,000. It sells for more than double that now. All of which is quite fine, but you bet your boots I am not selling mine for the profit. I bought that 100 shares to keep. It is nice to see your stocks on the uprise--fine and dandy--but if I sold it now, what would I put the money in, with my limited knowledge of stocks and stock prices, advances and declines? No, the thing for me to do is to keep it and hope that the company gets stronger and stronger, and better and better. . .

Tommy Rivers, of Russellville, has finished installing the dishwasher, two sinks, dispos-all, and cabinets. Together, they take the whole south side of the kitchen--a formidable array.

Munny was bent on having two big sinks, and now, by golly, she has them. The kitchen looks like a city hotel kitchen, so now, I've been casting about for boarders. . . We've just got to make that outlay back somehow. . .

P.S. The dandelion count is now 20,130.

Pap