Tribute to Two Ordinary Lives

By Dixie McGuffey

Growing up I loved to hear about my parents’ story about growing up. They seemed to be so different. I wondered how these two people got together. It was only recently that I had the time to put these stories down on paper.

As I did this task for my family history, I realized how interesting these humorous and sometimes trying tales of these ordinary lives may interest others. I love to read. These stories would be exactly the type of material I enjoy.

For this reason, I pursued the publishing of this book. I truly hope you, as the reader, will feel the great adoration I have for these two individuals. I hope you enjoy the memories of these two very different people

• Language: English
• Publisher: Christian Faith Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Jan 31, 2022
• ISBN: 9781639030255

Book preview

Ride on the Huckster

One of my favorite relatives from my youth was Uncle Bennie Benbow. He was such a kindly fellow, and his company was enjoyed by all who met him. He was quite the area caretaker for his community.

Uncle Benny had a grocery store. Like any other grocery store, people could stop by and get what they needed. In the 1940s, when I was around nine or ten, I often went over just to talk to Uncle Benny and hang with my cousins. I could always find a funny story or two there.

1934 picture of Ted, his brother Jim, and cousin Dauson.

Unlike today, this local grocery made house calls. Well, it seems that that practice is coming back with recent events of the day. Yet back in the day, we didn’t have internet or cellphones where you could click a few options and have it sent to you.

Uncle Benny would say he had to go on his huckster run. I would later find out that the huckster run was named after the type of wagon that trail cooks used with settlers traveling west. I would join him at times. He didn’t use a wagon though. He had a large truck with groceries in the back, including large egg crates that measured around three foot by three foot by two foot deep. Each crate could carefully hold many eggs; enough that they would not break on the bumpy roads that we would travel. There were two more empty big crates tied onto the back fenders of the truck. I would find out later the purpose of these containers.

We would go to mostly farmhouses out of the small town of Middletown, Indiana. The lady of the house would come out and tell Uncle Benny what she needed. He would locate the items and return with an idea of what they owed. The negotiating started at that point. Not everyone paid in cash. Some folks paid with eggs. Some ladies paid in chickens. This payment I learned is what went into the big empty fender crates. It was always interesting to hear the stories and all the trading going on.

I felt like this route was Uncle Benny’s favorite part of the grocery business. When he came back to the truck, he would tell me the news of this family or that family. Sometimes it was a story about a child that had moved or a husband that had changed jobs or maybe how the weather was affecting their crops. He always sounded concerned for the people and always had something to say to me when he returned to the truck. He had a way of making everyone feel important. What a gift that I admired and tried to emulate all my life. I learned many things about our community and about life while on the huckster run.

How Quickly Things Can Change

Ted working at the factory.

Seems like all my life things changed in a hurry. My life changed in 1947 when I hired on at the Warner Gear factory. I went from being a pretty carefree kid just out of high school to a full-time tool grinder for a big factory. People expected you to get your job done. They expected a lot, and yet I can say we found fun in the daily grind wherever we could each day.

I worked forty hours or more at the factory and, on the weekend, helped Dad build the new place we would soon call the beacon. It was a combination house, café, and gas station. It took three years to build the station.

The beacon

It was not all work. I had seven buddies that came over on occasion to shoot some hoops. After all, we were Midwest Hoosiers in the middle of basketball country. The basketball goal was one of the first things that went up at the site. Maybe Dad did that so we would not gripe so much about moving from the old place at Crossroads to the highway location.

For whatever reason, it was a welcome distraction. The