A Helping Hand: We can all do something

By LaMoine "Bill" Moll

This book illustrates how someone living in a small town can still have a lot to contribute to his community, his country, and even the world. The author, Bill Moll, has lived in the small town of Shannon, Illinois, with a population of eight hundred his entire life, but has come in contact with many people in all parts of the world. He has been a friend and played basketball with a former Harlem Globetrotter and has had some phone calls from the Whitehouse while Ronald Reagan was president. The New York Times even sent a reporter to his hometown of Shannon to interview him in the 1970s. Those are only a few examples of his very interesting life. The author and his family have begun a scholarship fund to help deserving students as well as other people they believe need a little help in their lives. Bill and his wife have been honored by their little village, including heading their Labor Day parade and being their Grand Marshal in 2018. Bill Moll has farmed all his adult life, but this book is definitely not about farming. Even though he has often been written up by farm magazines and on their covers, you will find as you read this book he really did not want to farm. He wanted to work in a bank. He never regretted his decision to farm, however, and contributed to his community as well as to many people outside of his community as he reached out to everyone. He has experienced many wonderful times in his life but has been touched by tragedy too. He admits he hasn't handled everything as well as he could have. Mr. Moll is now eighty-three years old, and there is a lot to be learned from his mistakes as well as his successes.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Christian Faith Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Mar 20, 2020
• ISBN: 9781645697725

Book preview

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A Helping Hand

We can all do something

LaMoine Bill Moll

Copyright © 2019 by LaMoine Bill Moll

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods without the prior written permission of the publisher. For permission requests, solicit the publisher via the address below.

Christian Faith Publishing, Inc.

832 Park Avenue

Meadville, PA 16335

www.christianfaithpublishing.com

Printed in the United States of America

Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

I am dedicating this book to my beloved wife, Rose Marie Moll, and my only living child, David Moll, and to my deceased son, Steven Moll. Rose Marie has provided me with almost sixty beautiful years of marriage. She has always stood with me and given me any support I needed. David has been a wonderful son and means more to me than he probably realizes. Steve’s life was way too short, but he provided us with a lot of happy memories, and we will never forget him.

For the two remaining family members, I have recorded some of my life’s experiences. I hope and pray they will always remember me.

Foreword

There are some things in life that are just easier said than done. For instance, this foreword that you are currently reading is easier said than done. And there are some things in life that do not have a definite beginning or an end, such as a rainbow. What does any of this have to do with a foreword? Hang in there with me, and you will soon find out.

When the author of this book approached me and asked if I would please write a foreword for his upcoming book, I jumped at the chance. (Of course, Bill knows that I would do anything for him—no, I really mean that). I was blessed with the opportunity to read his memoirs a few years ago and was absolutely amazed at the wonderful and exciting life this man has lived. I’m not going into details about that now as I do not want to ruin the book for you. You’ll just have to read it yourself and find out what I mean.

To put a date, time, or place on the beginning of my friendship with Bill is impossible. It’s strange that I don’t remember when I met him or under what circumstances. I feel as though I’ve known him my entire life, which is impossible as my family, and I didn’t move to Shannon until 2003. And to think that this man has been such a blessing to me that I cannot, for the life of me, remember anything of our first encounter. What I will always remember and fondly recall to many people today is the multitude of times that I have personally witnessed Bill doling out hope.

How does a person dole out hope, you may say. My answer to that is through the many acts of kindness and generosity that are lovingly referred to as the Steven Moll Memorial Scholarship. Since 2009, Bill and his family have lavishly given away thousands of dollars to area high-school graduates and others who just need a little help so they can see their dreams come to fruition. Bill has turned a personal and heartbreaking tragedy into triumph—a lesson many of us could stand to learn.

It is through this heaping helping of hope that takes me to my second point being that some things have no definitive end. You see, as Bill unselfishly invests in people through scholarships, they, in turn, pay it forward through their education and subsequent career choices. For instance, one young lady who recently received a scholarship is currently attending Highland Community College to pursue a degree in nursing. Because of the hope that Bill gave her, she will have the opportunity to instill hope into others through her healing hands. Bill has successfully and positively affected lives so that others may be blessed as well. The hope doesn’t stop on scholarship night. No, that’s just the beginning!

As you begin reading this astonishing book that you now hold in your hands, I challenge you to ask yourself, What can I do that will truly make a positive difference in my life, in my world, and in the world of others? How can I possibly turn a tragedy into a triumph? Personally, I know that my life has been changed in a tangible way because of this friendship that began some time ago. I continually strive to be kind, be inspiring, and be more like my friend, Bill Moll.

Dawn L. Barr

Lay Minister

Bethel United Methodist Church

November 7, 2018

Introduction

Iam eighty-three years old as I write this. I have farmed almost all my adult years and have lived my entire life in a little town called Shannon, Illinois. I have touched and have been touched by many people in the United States as well as some people in many corners of the world. I have been raised by wonderful parents who raised me as a Christian, which has stayed with me forever. I have had many happy times in my lifetime. I have also had some very sad times. I am writing this book to tell of the many experiences this farm boy from a small town in northwestern Illinois has had.

It is not a book about farming, and I seldom talk about farming in this book (planting corn and soybeans), but instead, I write about the interesting people I have met and interacted with during my lifetime. I love good people. Good people have often changed my day, and in fact, good people have changed my entire life. I have been fortunate enough to have been surrounded, with few exceptions, by good people each and every year that I have lived.

Thinking of that as I sit here in the year 2019, I am going to attempt to write some of my thoughts and memories of some of the happenings and people that have touched my life. I will neither be complaining nor bragging about anything. It will simply be the way I remember different things as honestly as I can remember them.

I have always admired Oprah Winfrey. She is kind, generous, and has changed the lives of many people around the world. She once said, Everyone can’t build schools, but everyone can do something as simple as taking a meal to the homeless. I truly believe that, and my family and I have tried to live up to that standard and to change as many lives as possible in our lifetime.

My idea is to make each chapter of this book as brief as possible. I don’t want to dwell on any details but instead leave some of my thoughts and experiences written on these pages for which my family and friends will remember me. Any profits from this book will be donated to the Steven Moll Memorial Scholarship Fund to help the Eastland seniors receive a scholarship for their continued education.

Bill Moll

LaMoine Bill Moll—One year old—1937

Chapter 1

The Beginning

I was born on a farm about three miles northwest of Shannon, IL, on April 26, 1936. Our family no longer owns the farm where I was born. To find that house, you would go exactly two miles west of the west edge of Shannon on Route 72 and turn north (Doug Moll’s farm). Go north past the Straw school road (first crossing) another half mile and turn west down the long lane. The house has been torn down and no longer stands.

LaMoine’s birthplace house on farm—1936

Even though I moved off the farm with my family in 1941 when I was only five years old I vividly remember living on the farm. We had no running water at that time, but we had electricity. I plainly remember the outhouse to the north of the house with no inside toilet. On cold nights, it was not pleasant to visit that place. In the summer, it was not so wonderful either as the smell was sometimes overwhelming. It was just the way it was, however, and I don’t recall anyone complaining about it. In the winter, we used a pot all night, and my mother would empty it in the morning. We seldom, if ever, used toilet paper. Instead, we saved the old Sears Roebuck catalog, and it seemed to do the job just fine.

LaMoine three years old before curls were cut—1939

I can remember our whole family of four sitting on the back porch in the warm summer evenings looking at the sky to the east and seeing different shapes formed by the clouds. My mother would point out different things in the sky, such as a hammer, bowl, or some other object. In my mind, they are so plain, but I’m sure it was just the imagination of a little boy on the farm that saw them.

My dad milked and raised hogs and cattle. He also farmed the 240 acres where we lived. The milking was all done by hand. My brother Allen was old enough to help with the milking, but I was too young and missed that part of the chores. I would often sit on the ledge behind the cows and watch Allen milk, and he would sometimes squirt me as he milked the cows. I complained, but I would never leave. We milked approximately ten or fifteen cows. It was a typical farm in those days. Almost every farm around was diversified at that time. My mother also raised chickens. I usually helped her gather the eggs each day. I hated it when the chickens pecked my hand as I would raise them up to get the eggs.

LaMoine Moll—four years old—1941

I was born with curly hair as shown on the right. The picture on the left is my first picture with my curls cut off.

Dad always had horses in the stable when I lived on the farm. There were no tractors at this time. The corn would be picked by hand all day. Then in the evening, the couple of loads of corn picked that day would be scooped off the wagons and thrown up high into the bin. I remember it well, but I was too young to help much.

When I was a baby, Minnie Earnest took care of me. She married my dad’s employee Morrell Earnest. Their son, Dennis Earnest, still lives in the Quad City area.

The old phones and the old radios are very vivid in my memory. My dad was a very dedicated farmer, and I have never understood why he ever decided to move to town. That was very uncommon in those days. However, in 1941, we moved to town to 301 S. Linn St. Dad continued to farm and had an employee on the farm to help and do the chores. I can remember the move well. It was so exciting to have running water and a bathroom in the house. It was at that time my dad installed a running water system on the farm also. We were finally getting modern!

Chapter 2

LaMoine just starting country school—1941

Moving to Town

We moved off the farm to a little town called Shannon, Illinois, in 1941, sometime in the spring. It is still somewhat of a mystery to me why my dad decided to move to town at this time. He always liked the farm and had few other interests. As I mentioned before, it was very unusual for a farmer to move to town and continue to operate the farm. He hired Allen Jansen to work for him. Allen lived on the farm, and my dad commuted back and forth to the farm each day.

One memory that sticks in my mind like it happened yesterday was when Allen Jansen’s baby got sick one night. He called my dad who, in turn, called a doctor (named Dr. Seyfarth) from the nearby town of Lanark. The baby had pneumonia. The doctor went to the farm, which was very common in 1941, but said he could do little for the little baby girl. It was before there were any antibiotics of any kind available. The baby died that night. When someone had pneumonia then, it was similar to hearing that someone has cancer today. It was very life-threatening for anyone, especially babies. Allen Jansen had at least two children since. One’s name is Robert who has a son named Brian that works in the Shannon bank and lives in the country near Shannon at this time.

I was five years old when we moved to town. Therefore, I was raised mostly as a town child rather than a country child. I did go to country school for my first year. I began in the country, and we moved to town before the first year was over, but my parents kept me at the country school for the entire year so I didn’t have to change schools in the middle of the year. The first day of country school, my dad took me to the road in front of the school and lifted me over the woven wire fence and put me on my feet and said, From now on, you’re on your own. That’s much different than parents do today.

I only went to the country school for that first year. There were a lot of country schools scattered around the country about five or six miles apart. Most kids living in the country went to the first eight grades to a small school near their farm and then went to town for high school. Around 1947, the country schools consolidated, and all the kids were then taken to town. The country residents were not happy about that at the time. I can remember when the kids from the country schools came to the Shannon schools during the consolidation, they were far ahead of us town kids in their education. I believe