Georgie’s Memories – Part 3: And Automobiles

Automobiles

Since I was born on October 23, 1917, the automobile and airplane share my infancy.  I remember when there were more horses with wagons or buggies around the square in West Point than there were automobiles. 

I don’t think either one of my grandfathers, Gerhard Wellman or Isadore Link, ever learned to drive a car.   My Grandpa Wellman bought a car, a Chevrolet, which my Uncle Tony and Uncle Al drove.  I remember it with the top, which was a convertible type, off.  Whether something broke on it and they took it off I can’t remember.  I know it roared a lot and they (my uncles) were working on it a lot.  We had a succession of Model T Fords, once a new one.  The tops eventually disappeared on these too.  The tops had removable side curtains that snapped on.

The windows in these were made of a material called isinglass. [ed. note: Isinglass is more commonly referred to as mica in the U.S.] My dad chewed tobacco and always cut a hole in the isinglass on the driver’s side so he could spit.  When the side curtains were up this was no problem but in summer if the wind was in the right direction the kids in the back seat were liable to get sprayed with tobacco juice.  In order to start the car, it had to be cranked.  Broken arms from cranking Model Ts were common. [ed. note: The crank was used to turn the engine over.  This was before electric starters were common.] We lived on top of a steep hill (the Bruegenhempke Place) and when the roads (dirt) were bad we sometimes had to back up the hill.  Sometimes, too, we had to let the car sit and walk home from there.  In winter getting the car started was a project.  Not understanding mechanics, I don’t know what my dad did.  I know he jacked up a wheel and we had kettles of water heated on the wood cook stove.

Hill Climbs

Sometimes on Sunday Bruegenhempke Hill was the scene for what was called a “Hill Climb.”  People came with cars to see if they could make it up the hill in high.  It was just something to do on Sundays, sort of like an impromptu rodeo.  Sometimes it was advertised on a “Line Call.”  The phone would ring and ring and ring instead of the usual 2 long rings and 1 short ring or whatever your code was.  Then the operator would come on and announce a sale, entertainment or whatever.  Everybody listened on the phone when it rang, whether it was your call or not.  It was called “rubbering.” I don’t know why.  It was communication before radio and TV, a means of getting the news.

Some horses were afraid of cars, in which case the driver had to pull off the side of the road until the car had gone past.  In some cases, he had to pull full into the ditch, jump out and hold the horse’s head until the car was out of sight. Twenty miles per hour was a normal speed for cars.  In spring when the frost was going out of the ground, roads became impassable and horses were hitched up.  I remember several funerals where a horse drawn hearse was used. They had four black horses pulling it.  Some folks had carriages, closed, with lamps on the sides.  When closed cars came in, my Uncle Johnnie had a Buick.  The upholstery was navy blue plush – very elegant – and had jump seats in the back.  They were for kids and we thought they were neat.

Learning to drive

My mother never learned to drive.  She tried a couple of times.  My uncles (Tony & Al) gave her one lesson I remember.  They went out to the pasture north of the Bruegenhempke Place and she drove around for a while.  My sister Louise and I stood in the yard and watched.  Our dog, Pal, got excited and ran around and around the woodpile.  He did that once in a while.  That set off the wild ducks my dad kept for decoys (legal then) when he went duck hunting, and they started flying around and around circling the whole scene.  It must have been too much for Mom.  Not too many ladies drove then, I suppose partly because of the cranking, and women weren’t expected or encouraged to do things men did.  Mechanical things were new even to men then.  Everybody worked on their own car.  I think my dad was pretty good at it.

Getting gas

We always got our gas at Great-uncle Louie (Louis) Link’s gas station in West Point, just across the street north of the Presbyterian Church.  The gas was in a glass container on top of the pump.  It was red and you could watch the measurements on the side of the glass where it was going down. [ed. note: The attendant first pumped the gas into a glass cylinder at the top, which was graduated, and then allowed it to flow down the hose and into your gas tank.]  Al Menke ran a garage in West Point, sold Model T’s.  Willis McNeill worked there as a mechanic [ed. note: Willis McNeill was the brother of Elsie McNeill, who lived across the street from Georgina in Fort Madison.].  The site is a parking lot now on the northwest corner of the square.  I think Ben Sanders sold cars too.  He had a junk yard on the east side of the square.  At one time my dad had an old Essex, one of the first cars I drove.  I learned to drive on a Model A, quite a contrast with driving cars today.  You had to be so careful letting out the clutch and giving it gas at just the right time.  I have driven a Model T but only a couple of times, and I can’t remember how to do it.