The Fourth Book

By Daniel D. Scherschel

The Fourth Book is about my later years in this farming community and working in a foundry, grandkids, older parents and things I learned along the way that others might relate to.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Apr 23, 2013
• ISBN: 9781481738804

Daniel D. Scherschel

I was born in the Forties, the fourth child of six. Six months after being born, the family moved from Lawrence Co. Indiana to a farm on Maple Grove Road in Monroe Co. This neighborhood would be “home” for the family. Wanting to save stories for my grandchildren, I bought a computer in 1990 and started compiling my hand written writings. I am just an average person with my average stories. People seem to enjoy relating to these average stories, remembering their version of life.

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2013 Daniel D. Scherschel. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse 04/19/2013

ISBN: 978-1-4817-3881-1 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4817-3882-8 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-4817-3880-4 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2013906421

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Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

My drive to write these books comes from the opportunity to hear some of our neighbors tell their stories when I was a youth working along side the men. Finding I was forgetting most of what they said, the idea was placed on me to try to keep some stories as I lived my life.

Since this is a continuation of my earlier three books. I will just continue on.

A BULL IN A CHINA SHOP HAS NO RESPECT 1990

Land owners have to give a right of way to utilities when they go across their property. This is often difficult, but you hope it is for the good of a lot of people to make up for the inconvenience. One of the utilities that came through the farm was the electrical power line (1948). Dad gave the company a right of way through his land to deliver electricity and phone to the Other House and back to Herschel Cowden’s house. That line starts at his mail box at the road. It now feeds all of the houses to the immediate west of the farm along the road near the double turns. A contractor did the cutting under the power lines. They destroyed a lot of dad’s farm in 1990 when they did their work. If they had any respect for the owner of the ground, they would have tried to get along with him. Dad asked them to not cut trees toward the creek pump when the ground was wet. They took three truck loads of equipment and men down the middle of his hay field, destroying much hay. They went into the lane in the woods, making large cuts and ditches in the ground. On the way back, they spun and dug very large ditches until they were hung up. Dad asked them to not destroy his property. They said they had a right to drive on the right of way areas, and they proceeded. Larry, a neighbor had to drive down into the wet area with his high lift dozer to get them out. They damaged much of the lane and the field as they proceeded. Dad had to have Larry come back later to rebuild the area. It had been destroyed too much for just farm equipment to rebuild. Dad worked on the area for a few years after trying to put it back together. Now that they destroyed this part of the farm, they said they were going to go back through the strips to follow the power line. Dad said to please use his farm road on the side of the strips area to get to the back of the property. They would not have destroyed as much crop land this way. Again they refused the land owners request and continued right through the middle of the farm with the three trucks as they proceeded to the back of the field. They packed down and damaged acres of crop land with no remorse as they proceeded through the middle of the farm over the hill ground. It took dad several years to rebuild the land after that. He is now powerless to protect his land from this horrible devastation that will probably happen again when the trees get up tall. Think about your property before easily letting someone go through, or you may spend the rest of your life trying to restore your land from an aggressor with no care about your work in caring for your land.

When dad was in the nursing home, he made a bucket list. One was to get the power lines taken down in his fields, so the bigger farm equipment used today could get around.

THE HENDRICKSVILLE DINNER 1990

On my way to or from the trestle, I would sometimes take the country road instead of Highway 45. This country road is highway 43. If one starts at the K-Mart on the west side of Bloomington, near the highway 37, and travel west, you are on this road. You will drive passed Highland Village, the airport and past Oard Road that goes to Bloomington Crushed Stone. After a few more hills, the road takes you into the bottoms. Only a few miles out and you will get to the Y intersection where highway 48 and 43 split. I take the road to the left (southwest). The road to the right (north) goes to the town of Whitehall and on toward McCormicks Creek State Park on Highway 46. On to the southwest is a small asphalt highway leading to Hendricksville. The restaurant called the Dinner is at the 10 mile marker on this road. It has a stone parking lot on the north side of the highway. The building is set by the road and against woods. It is in the beautiful rolling bottom ground with houses and small farms all around. Large glass widows are across the front of the restaurant. Inside are booths and chairs. In the side room are tables. On the menu are a couple of main dishes for the day. A grill menu hangs on the wall. Several paintings are on the wall. I think these are for sale. The paintings make the area have an atmosphere like the town of Nashville in Brown County. I think this is in Greene County. The food here has always been good on every visit I have made. At the cash register are always some homemade pies. I suppose they are for sale by the piece or the pie.

One Friday evening I was there. Upon our arrival in the parking lot, I noticed Charley Waldrip coming out to his truck. We talked for a minute. I had worked with him at Price Electric in the early seventies. I enjoyed working with Charley. We had some good times. He was always funny. We went inside and took a seat at a booth in the main area. As we waited for our food (which was not long), we looked out at the view. I saw a barn and house across the highway to the east only about two hundred yards away. In the field by the barn was a couple of calves walking and grazing. Now this was a restful view for a boy raised on a dairy farm. It was early October. The trees were starting to change colors. This was very nice! Part of enjoying a good meal is the surrounding atmosphere. We enjoyed our meal, paid the bill and left.

JURY DUTY

I have now sat on five juries. I have learned a lot I don’t like about our system. A person has to wait too long to be put on trial. The lawyers get to choose the jury to sway the ‘vote’ to their side. A witness is asked to swear to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth, yet he can not tell the whole truth because he can only answer a pointed question with a pointed answer. The sentence can only be a certain thing, not what you think it should be. Even though, from what I hear, we probably have the best system of all the countries.

I served 11-1989, 1-1990, 1999 and was sent papers to serve in the fall of 2010. I was on call three times and served on five juries.

THE MONROE COUNTY FALL FESTIVAL PARADE 1990 MISS INDIDANA-MARY LYNN BUKER

The town of Ellettsville takes pride in an event every fall called The Monroe County Fall Festival. A leader in the county and state, Joe Peden had been the Parade Director for several years. He took his job seriously, as did the other hundreds of people who work before and after the parade to make it happen. Joe was involved in many community activities to do with land management, agriculture and conservation. One day Joe came to me and said, We need someone to drive Miss Indiana in our parade. Would you be interested? I said Sure, whatever you need.

The year before, I had driven the Parade Marshal in G.L. Chandler’s 1975 Eldorado Cadillac convertible. G.L. worked at the funeral home in town. G.L.’s car was beautiful! It was given to him by a friend. The friend told G.L. that he had about seven of them. Each car was painted specially for the owner with a non factory color. G.L. seemed to enjoy having his car in the parade. I went by and picked up the car from the place it was stored.

I then returned to the high school to park G.L.’s car. About half of the parade was still staged in the parking lot to go through the parade route. After parking the car I went over to Bob Naylor’s truck. Bob has been a neighbor most of my life, just as Joe has. Bob’s truck was set up to pull a group of men demonstrating sheep shearing. They had sheep in pens on a trailer. On the parade route, they were to get a sheep out and shear it while going down the street. Before Bob’s truck was to pull out into the line, Bob’s wife Thelma had him go with her somewhere for some reason. Jimmy Stanger, another neighbor, was sitting in Bob’s truck. He was going to ride in the cab of the truck while on the parade route. I sat in the driver’s seat while Bob was not there and talked to Jimmy. Jimmy and I listened to the radio. It came time for Bob’s unit to move out. I did not see Bob, so I started the truck and moved it in line. We (Jimmy and the men sheering the sheep on the trailer) started out of the parking lot. A few hundred feet down the school driveway, Bob ran up to the door of the truck. I said, I’ll drive a way, you can help on the trailer. Bob said O.K., as he cast his eyes doubtfully toward the trailer with the sheep. I just made a leading statement of intent. If Bob would have said, Move over, I’ll drive, I would have moved over in a second. He climbed onto the trailer. I drove almost to the reviewing stand. I saw my family observing the parade, by the sidewalk. For a moment along the route, we were stopped. I told Jimmy to drive. I was going as far as I was going in this parade. Jimmy moved over and took the wheel. Bob saw us changing drivers. He immediately took relief from the public eye and jump into the passenger side of his truck.

DOWNTOWN

It was a pretty day. I did different little things in the morning helping with setting up the parade. Today, I had driven one and a half times through the parade and I watched the other half. This year, before the parade, we parked in our favorite spot near downtown. We stopped to watch the people working out on the high swings. Occasionally a person flying in the air would miss the other during a transfer. A net was below to catch the person before they might hit the ground.

We walked past the log cabin. Chairs were set up in the yard on the north side of the cabin. I heard a person singing gospel music. He must have been standing near the building. Down the street was a wooded park area. Old tractors and engines were parked. Several people were talking to each other. Paul Anderson was moving an old machine around the area. On the machine was a sign advertising Norm Anderson for County Commissioner. I worked with Norm, Jigs, John, and Dick at various times doing electrical work around Bloomington in the late sixties and early seventies. Several food stands were torn town. One had potatoes. Several places had sausages rolled in a circle on a hot plate cooking. The smell of the pepper and onion was very appetizing. A small commercial tent was on the north side of the street. We walked on down to Main Street. Booths lined the street. Many people were in chairs at the stage across from Kenny’s Bar. I saw a man doing tricks on a stage. A man and woman were behind the stage passing what looked like bowling pins between each other. We walked into the building where photos of past Fall Festivals were on display. These photos are in the building at the intersection of Sale and Vine Streets. During this time the building is referred to as The Old Picture Gallery. I always enjoy looking at the old photos.

I passed several booths where people were selling their hand made crafts. Connie (my sister-in-law at the time) was in a booth with her mom and dad. Connie and my brother-in-law Mike’s children were running around the area somewhere. Their names are Misty and Matt. They try to find something to do during the hours their mom was in the tent. On the lot southeast of the stoplight was a small tent. This was behind the reviewing stand. He had a good sound system playing taped music without voice. A man was standing outside the tent holding a microphone to his mouth. He was dressed in the traditional Harley rider look. He wore jeans. His hair was long and he had one of those big billfolds with a chain attached to it. He had several decals sewn to his sleeveless vest. I looked around for his Harley. I don’t think I ever heard anyone sing gospel music any better. His voice was strong and clear, never missing a word as the tape played. No one was around to listen.

I walked past Billy Joe’s gun shop, the bank and a tent set up over the sidewalk. In the tent were chairs. Elderly people watch the parade from this position. I crossed the street. I thought it was a beautiful day-not a cloud in the sky. I arrived at Chandler’s Funeral Home. G.L. had his Cadillac parked under the canopy with the top down. It was clean and washed. I drove it on Reeve’s Road to Edgewood Jr. High School. I had to follow the parade entry line into the school lot. The parade entry was to the right. I went to the left behind the Jr. High to the High School. Dennis Fisher was coordinating traffic at the end of the lane by the high school. I parked the car on the road leading out of the high school parking lot, toward town. Several other convertibles were parked along this road. The drivers were shining their cars. Bob Beard was coordinating the area of the parade, staging the convertibles. He asked with a statement, You’re going to drive Miss Indiana aren’t you? I said, Yes, that is what Joe said he wanted me to do. A late model Mustang convertible was parked in front of me. The driver was wiping off the side panels. I knew the driver. I walked up to him. He spoke about cleaning the car. I said, Do you know who I am? He looked and said, Yes I do. You are Dan Scherschel. He said, Do you remember me? I said, Sure, you are Mike Hayes. Mike and I were in the class of 1965 together at Bloomington High School. We were the last senior class to graduate from the Bloomington High School at the building assembled at 2nd and Walnut Streets. Mike grew up on a farm near the intersection of Rogers and That Road in Clear Creek. The judges were getting to their positions. He had said he may need someone to judge horses. Mike was an avid horse rider. I said, Do I know a good job for you. I told him they needed someone to judge the horses and that I did not really know that much about it. He had one by then. With that job done, Mike and I got a hot dog and drink and returned to the cars. I saw Joe go by in the golf cart provided for him. He had a driver from the Ellettsville Police Department. Joe was constantly on the move around the area helping coordinate the preparation of the parade. He and others had already donated many hours of their own time doing things to get the Fall Festival going. When the three day event is over, it will be all taken down by much needed volunteer help. Next year, they will do it all again.

Mike and I walked back to the convertibles. The politicians and Queens and other special people were gathering around to see what car they would ride in. Bob Beard was directing each person to the convertible and introducing them to their drivers. Some had their own signs to put on the side of the car and some did not. Some drivers were gathered around now. Each driver knew who they drew as a rider. One driver asked me who I was to take. I said, Miss Indiana. He said, Miss Indiana! How did you get to drive her? I thought I would get some good out of this opportunity so I said, It is because Joe wanted the right person to drive Miss Indiana. He asked, Why you? I said, Because I grew up next door to him and I think he trusts me. Mike and I talked with the lady parked behind us in the line. She was also driving a Mustang convertible. Her rider was to be Vi Simpson. She said she was a school teacher at Owen County High School. I asked if she knew Dave Fyffe. She said, Oh yes, Dave is around the school every day! Dave is my neighbor. He has had an Air Conditioning/Heating business in Ellettsville for several years.

A car with Indy plates pulled up to ask a question. Bob Beard told her she would be riding in this Cadillac and Dan Scherschel will be your driver. It was Miss Indiana! She parked her car in the grass nearby. Several other Queens came over to talk to Miss Indiana. She seemed to know several of them. She talked to the people around the general area. Bob asked if she had a sign for the car or if she needed one. She needed a sign. I got the material from Bob’s truck. Another queen wrote the sign as Miss Indiana spoke to her. I don’t recall who this other girl writing was, but she had very nice penmanship. Miss Indiana’s name was Mary Lynn Buker. She held the signs against the door as I taped them to the car. The different directors of the parade came by to express their gratitude to Miss Indiana for taking the time to be in the parade.

THE START

From my place up by the school, I heard the sirens of the emergency equipment coming from down the hill toward town. The parade had started! All the dump trucks and concrete trucks started to leave the school drive for the parade route. The political people left next for their spot in the parade.

Miss Indiana took her position, sitting on the boot that covered the top and back of the seat of G.L.’s car. The car was slanted to the side in its parked position beside the school drive. She said, I don’t know if I’ll be able to stay up here, this car is slick. She held on to the slick material. As we left, I started and stopped the car very gently, so as to not knock my rider off the seat. As we went along, Miss Indiana spoke to the people sitting along the parade route. The young girls smiled and waved. Many of the adults seemed only to watch (not move or wave back) as Miss Indiana passed.

MISS INDIANA REMEMBERED NAMES

As we talked while waiting our turn in the parade, I told her my family was watching the parade. Miss Indiana asked, What are their names? I told her my wife’s name, that my daughter is Karra, and my youngest son is Mike (Greg was not there at the time). She paused a moment then said, O.K. She went on doing her job of waving and speaking to people. We were in line behind the Shriners’ mini bike parade patrol, watching them do their cycle routine. This was a great position to be in. It gave her a chance, as we were stopped about every 100 yards, to talk to people in the crowd at the side of the street. I said to her, The lady with the silver hair is my wife. Miss Indiana spoke in that direction and said to the crowd, Where is Mike? Mike looked up surprised that she had called him by name. He smiled and waved softly. And Karra? she asked. Karra smiled with a big toothy smile. And wives name? again she asked. I was impressed! I had mentioned their names only once about 15 minutes before, and she had remembered them!

I drove slowly past the reviewing stand. In a timely manner, the announcer spoke of Miss Indiana. She later took her place on that stand for the rest of the parade.

DIGNITARIES

This year was the third time Joe asked me if I wanted to drive in the Fall Festival Parade. I of course said yes. I called Mr. Chandler (of the funeral home in Ellettsville) to discuss with him when and were to pick up his 1970 Cadillac Eldorado convertible.

Saturday came. I had not made it to the festival as of yet this year. I drove the van I was driving from work to the funeral home. I was given it for the weekend through a program they had. I walked across the street to the classic car show at the grade school (the old high school). Then I got in the convertible and drove it to the lane of trees north east of the Jr. High school to park it with the other convertibles. I then walked down to the town area to look over the displays and booths. I walked back up to the school area where the parade entrants were coming in and preparing for the parade. I drove Mr. Kuster (an ex-state policeman and Ellettsville policeman), John Holmes. It was a good day.

THE GRAND MARSHALS

This was my forth time to drive in the Ellettsville Monroe County Fall Festival. I was again to drive G.L. Chandler’s Cadillac. This year Joe wanted me to drive a couple of parade Grand Marshals. I had been leaving the car at the school for the past several years, after driving in the parade. This year, Joe said to drive the car back to the funeral home after the parade. I told him that would be fine. I picked up the car and drove it to the trees east of the school, as always. Bob Beard was there directing traffic. Don Lewis took Bob’s place for awhile. Bob had the signs to go on the sides of the car in the bed of his truck. He and I installed the sign’s on each side of G.L.’s Cadillac. I had an hour or so before the parade, so I walked downtown to check out the booths and shows. On the way back to the car, I saw two gentlemen sitting in it. I figured they were the two I was to drive in the parade. I walked on by to the restroom. Later I walked back to the car and introduced myself as their driver. The men were Ted Chitwood and James Stockton. They were interesting men to meet. Jim had retired from the Richland-Bean Blossom School System a few years back. Many people knew him and said Hi. He spoke of several things about the school system he had helped put into place. The other gentleman, Ted, was also a well known man of the town. Ted had operated a store in downtown Ellettsville for several years. I enjoyed hearing Ted speak because of my interest in airplanes. Ted had been the manager of the Monroe County Airport during the 1940’s and the 1950’s. The name of the field at that time was Kisters Field. Ted told of some of the planes he owned and operated during his younger years. I enjoyed the story of going to Chicago to pick up a Steerman (two winged) by-plane. He said it was a cold winter’s day. He flew the open cockpit craft back to Bloomington in the winter’s air. While driving through the parade and waving at the many people lining both sides of the street, Ted slowly said, This touches me. His many friends and acquaintances waving at him and yelling hi to him seemed to impress him deeply. Ted and Jim were getting a lot from this day. I saw several friends who waved at me too. I was enjoying myself. At the end of town, I turned off of the main street at the fire station. I drove these two grand marshals to the reviewing stand at the center of town. Here they thanked me for driving them and departed. I drove back to the starting area to watch the rest of the parade entries leaving for the downtown area. I saw the parade director, Joe, at the exiting area. He was talking to Bob Red Simpson. I had been around Red when I worked for Owens Electric with Fred (Belcher) and Henry (Jacobs). Red worked for Rogers for many years. Joe and Red came over to where I was standing. Joe asked if I had seen his wife Joyce. I said No. She had gone on the route on the Maple Leaf 4H float. She had hoped to get back in time to ride with Joe in his 1965 GTO. The end of the parade was getting near. Joe’s work was done. He said, Do you want to ride in the parade in my car? I told him sure. I had wanted to ride in his 1965 Pontiac GTO since he had it rebuilt. He came over to take me for a ride once, but I was not at home at the time. I liked going through the parade twice. We piled into the car with Joe driving. Red sat in the front seat. I sat in the back on the right. Joe got Bob Beard at the end of the trees. We were off. Many people knew the four of us in the car. We had people waving all the way. I saw Fred Belcher. Fred smiled and shook his head.

JOE HAD THE HEAT TURNED ON

While we rode in Joe’s car, in the parade, I was getting hotter and hotter. I did not think much of it, being in stop-and-go traffic. We were talking some about the Forth of July parade, and how warm it was in July. Joe mentioned that it would be hot in this car if the heater was on. At that time, he noticed he had the heat lever on about half way. My feet had been warm. I thought it was from the muffler under the car, but it had been from the heater being on.

For the rest of the ride back to the school yard, we hassled Joe about having the heater turned on.

What a day. The weather was just right and I saw no problems. What a beautiful day.

1994

This year Joe asked me to drive Chandlers Cadillac again. I drove two lady grand marshals.

Again I drove Chandler’s Cadillac. I drove to the funeral home as I always do. The weather looked like it could rain so I ran the top up and down to make sure it worked. I did not want to get caught in the rain. Because of the weather, they had left the boot off the back. This allowed me to simply hit the up or down button for the top.

At noon, I left for two locations and picked up all four grand marshals for this years parade. I drove P.J. Stevens, a long time businessman of the area and Madge Middleton, the very first festival queen.

This year I drove the grand marshals, Martha and Henry Daniel in Chandlers Cadillac.

This year I drove one of four Grand Marshals. This gentleman had been on the fair board for 40 years. I then made another run through the parade with the governor of the Lions club. His wife, daughter and grand daughter were with him also. I went through town a third time with G.L. Chandlers 1975 Eldorado in traffic to take it back to the funeral home and to get my car.

This year I drove grand marshals Bob Beard and Dr. Dale Hall. note: for more see Rachel Peden’s book Rural Free-Aug

EYES GLASSES

I had worn glasses for thirty eight years. I had gone through the years of changing prescriptions and glasses. I had tried several styles of frames as the styles changed through the years. I was tired of fogged lenses from coming in from the cold, the continual pain on my nose and ears, the depression on my nose from the nose pads, getting rain