AS LUCK WOULD HAVE IT: History That Happened While We Were Becoming The Class Of ‘68

By Lucky Rimpila

When I think back about the history that happened while I was growing up to graduate in the class of ’68 in small-town America, I was more thinking about relationships, dating, muscle cars, movies, TV shows, drive-ins and family events. I heard of some events while they happened but didn’t realize the full extent of how our country and the world changed with the history that took place at the same time. I took a look back and now I want to share with you every day, country and world events that shaped our lives.

• Language: English
• Publisher: iUniverse
• Release date: Jan 17, 2024
• ISBN: 9781663259646

Book preview

1333_c.jpg

AS LUCK

WOULD HAVE IT

HISTORY THAT HAPPENED WHILE WE WERE BECOMING THE CLASS OF ’68

LUCKY RIMPILA

AS LUCK WOULD HAVE IT

HISTORY THAT HAPPENED WHILE WE WERE BECOMING THE CLASS OF ’68

Copyright © 2024 Lucky Rimpila.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

iUniverse

1663 Liberty Drive

Bloomington, IN 47403

www.iuniverse.com

844-349-9409

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.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

ISBN: 978-1-6632-5963-9 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-6632-5964-6 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2024900524

iUniverse rev. date: 01/16/2024

CONTENTS

PREFACE

CHAPTER 1 THE MOVE TO HASTINGS

CHAPTER 2 2ND GRADE

CHAPTER 3 3RD GRADE

CHAPTER 4 4TH GRADE

CHAPTER 5 5TH GRADE

CHAPTER 6 6TH GRADE

CHAPTER 7 7TH GRADE

CHAPTER 8 8TH GRADE

CHAPTER 9 9TH GRADE

CHAPTER 10 10TH GRADE

CHAPTER 11 11TH GRADE

CHAPTER 12 12TH GRADE

This book is dedicated to Connie who has walked with me and continues to be by my side every step of the way.

(And if there are any mistakes in this book it’s because Connie didn’t proof it.)

A I H L Y D, M D T T S W C T

PREFACE

HISTORY THAT HAPPENED WHILE WE WERE BECOMING THE CLASS OF ’68

Here I sit, a Baby Boomer trying to fill all the prerequisites of a Baby Boomer life. Nearing the Winter of my Baby Boomer allotment in time, listening to Baby Boomer music and reflecting on my Baby Boomer past and what is left of my Baby Boomer future.

The idea for this book started at a luncheon with classmates from the Hastings High School class of ’68. While trying to recollect our bygone days as we complained about all of our past, present and future ailments and health conditions, my thoughts went to those classmates who had passed away and thought how sad it was they couldn’t be here sharing with us about all of the many ramifications on getting older. I tried to recall all the history that happened while we were growing up and how much we lived through while we were only concerned with friends, grades, teachers, cars, music, dating and sex. That time and those consequences just slipped by without our sometimes knowing it other than a mention from our parents in passing or catching something in current events or on the nightly news. My attempt here is to share with you not only my personal journey but some others. I also want to share with you the news that struck me as somewhat important that later impacted the Class of ’68. I wrote trying to utilize my own memory about many things from the past but realized all too soon that I had to rely on the internet and capture much history from sources like Google and Wikipedia. It had to be accurate because it was on the internet, right? Whatever! So, as you read through, think about beyond 1968, even today and feel where it started, progressed, or digressed and where it is some 55 years later. I hope there are some good memories for you as well as challenging ones that you can share.

CHAPTER 1

THE MOVE TO HASTINGS

JUNE 1957

I recall coming around a sweeping bend in our green 4-door Belair sedan at the top of a long hill and as we descended, the largest bridge I had ever seen came into view. And beyond that, a glorious large city like I had never seen. It stood out like I imagined heaven would, but on a prairie. We came down the hill and soon crossed the bridge over the Mississippi River. Everyone was excited. We had a car full. My Dad drove, my mother was in the front seat, and I (the youngest) sat between them. My sister Gloria and two brothers, Ron and Gary, rode in the back seat. Somewhere on the road behind us came the moving truck (really a cattle truck) with our furniture and possessions. We proceeded to drive up Vermillion Street with this large hill with houses on either side. At the top of the hill was a football field on the right and businesses on the left. We continued to drive through this glorious city for what seemed like miles until we reached what appeared to be the city limits and then we ventured left onto another tar road that went past a trailer court and then cornfields. Heaven was gone.

What happened to the city we were to live in? We drove on for about another mile and then a row of houses on the left stretched into the distance. We drove past a few of them and then Dad slowed.

We arrived at our new home in Hastings, Minnesota, mid-afternoon. As we pulled off the asphalt highway onto the gravel driveway, three kids were leaning on what appeared to be the neighbor’s car watching us. It was a shared driveway between the two homes. If I recall correctly, Bob, Punk and Cindy K. would soon become our neighbors, long-time friends, and playmates.

It was the first home my parents purchased. The previous houses had all been rented. It was a three-bedroom rambler just outside the city limits of Hastings on Highway 316, better known to locals as the Redwing Shortcut. There were nine houses in this subdivision. They were built in a straight row along the highway. All very similar except for the first house, which must have been there before the subdivision was built. Every other house was built with a floor plan opposite the one next to it; our living room was on the south and our immediate neighbors were on the north. Each house had its exterior shake siding painted a different color. Ours was burnt umber. I had no clue at the time, but these houses cost $13,500 for the new owners. We were to occupy the last house sold or the model house when they were built and shown. There was an immense field behind the houses that looked like it had never seen a crop grown in it. Just endless tall weeds. Across the highway from the house was a massive cornfield that seemed to go on forever. It seemed we were still in the city on one side and still in the country on the other. This sub-division was called Bernard Acres, which was somewhat ironic as my father’s given name was Bernard.

We started out earlier that morning from our home in New York Mills, Minnesota, some two hundred miles to the northwest. Our rented house was also in a row of houses, but all had vastly different shapes and designs. The houses were built across a dirt street from the high school track and football field. Next to that was the city baseball park with grand bleachers, which we often played on.

This house had three bedrooms also. Two upstairs and one downstairs on the main floor. This house had no indoor toilet but a two-holer outhouse out back. I was six years old and had just finished first grade at elementary school. I had a sister, Gloria, and two brothers; Ron & Gary; all older than me. Of course, my parents lived there too; Ben & Peg.

My Dad had moved to Hastings earlier that year after accepting a job at Freed Chevrolet & Cadillac as their service manager. I can’t imagine the courage it took for him and my mother to leave their hometown and venture over 200 miles away. My Dad informed us later that he answered an ad for Freed Chevrolet as well as a dealer in Washington state and they decided the Minnesota one filled the bill. He was hired in place of another man who had applied too, by the name of Earl Stoick, who was a mechanic there, but we’ll get into the significance of that later in our story.

My grandparents on both my parents’ sides still lived in New York Mills. On my dad’s side were my grandpa Fabian and Grandma Lena Rimpila. On my mom’s side were my grandma Ellen and my step-grandpa Pete Bakken. My mother’s biological Dad, Ebby, died in a car accident when she was too young to ever know him. We had aunts and uncles and lots of cousins living in and around Mills (as we soon referred to it), as well as nearby Wadena.

I remember growing up In Mills and we had lived in a few different houses. Some of my early recollections are being scared of Santa as he appeared through a window in a big yellow house we lived in in the country. I recall always going to Grandma and Pete’s on Saturday nights to watch their black & white TV. Shows like Your Hit Parade, Highway Patrol, Lawrence Welk and the Sheriff of Cochise were our favorites. I also remember going to the city sauna on Saturday nights. Our entire family would go at a reserved time, and I believe it was sometimes in the altogether".

I remember attending kindergarten and first grade in Mills. I recall having our nap rugs and when it was time for a nap, we spread out our rugs on the floor and most of us immediately fell asleep, including Mrs. Kirtcher, my kindergarten teacher. My mother worked as a cook at the elementary school, and I learned from a very early age that cloves was good for toothaches, and since we really couldn’t afford to go to the dentist, my mother would always put some cloves on the aching tooth to ease the pain. I must have had the most toothaches in history at that school because I used it as a reason to get out of both kindergarten and first-grade classes to visit the kitchen to see my mother and get a little non-needed cloves on any tooth I pointed out. Initially, she must have thought I had a horrible tooth problem, but I believed she soon figured out what I was up to and then the toothaches had to subside for a while.

There were always Saturday night get-togethers at aunts and uncles and Sunday dinners at one of our grandparents after church. It was always fun, and we had lots of great cousins to play with, all similar in age. Everything from playing ball to feeding livestock to coon hunting in the middle of the night. The Sunday dinners were to die for. A huge meat dish, potatoes and gravy, vegetables, loaves of bread and cheese, canned fruits and always cake for dessert.

At our house in Mills, my brother Gary and I would sneak out to the two-holer during the day, light matches, start catalog pages (think about it) on fire, and throw them down the holes. I guess we made up our own games, then.

We also lived next to a pasture with woods in it. Our parents told us not to go across the fence as the neighboring farmer had hogs in that pen and they were mean and would chase you if they saw you. Well, that lasted a few weeks and then we, of course, had to climb the fence and find those hogs. We would follow the hog paths towards the neighbor’s barn and come upon those fat, docile hogs wallowing in the mud, none showing any interest in us trespassers.

I mentioned that we also lived by the ballpark, so climbing on the bleachers from the underside and up on the scoreboard was naturally fun, where someone sat and hung numbers whenever the score changed during a game. I recall that the man who cared for the football field and track was named Al Stigman. He used to give us horsey-back rides around the track. Later, I discovered that his brother was Dick Stigman, a pitcher for the Minnesota Twins for a few seasons.

When my dad would leave us on Sunday afternoons to head back to Hastings to work, I would miss him terribly. My mother would have to hold me back because I wanted to go with him. Sometimes I would sit in the car before he left and refuse to get out, but she and my dad were always able to get me out. He will return next Friday evening and be with us for the weekend. I believe this went on for about three to four months.

So, back in the driveway in Hastings.

My Dad had used the G.I. Bill, so he did not have to put a down payment on our $13,500 house. I believe my dad was able to finance the house with the help of the Realtor, who also owned the land and did the financing.

The yard was a full half acre in size and seemed enormous, and would later, too, when I had to mow it. Both the front and back yards were equal in size. It seems that a few years later, one morning, a tractor in the backyard was plowing up the entire thing so we could have a garden. What a new life we were living. I recall my dad telling us earlier that Hastings was also close to another bridge and that when you crossed it, you were in another state, which at 6 years old didn’t mean much to me. Later, we explored the city in our car and went to places like the Mississippi River, our downtown, the schools and the lock and dam. We couldn’t believe our good fortune.

First things first, as we waited for the moving truck to get there. I remember my brother Gary and I hopping out of the car and dashing off to explore the house. We had to, of course, wait until my dad unlocked the door (which was never done in Mills).

I remember going into this brand-spanking new house for the first time. We couldn’t believe our fortune. A kitchen, a living room, three bedrooms and an indoor bathroom. To top it off, a black and white TV was in the corner of the living room. As I mentioned before, this house had been the model home for the sub-division and my brother Gary & I soon discovered some brochures and pamphlets downstairs talking about the sub-division. Talk about a useless treasure, but a treasure at the time when you are six years old.

Mom & Dad pointed out whose rooms were whose. My sister was elated as she had her own room. My brothers and I would be sharing a room, but to us, it was huge (in reality, 10 x 10). A large narrow bathroom with a tub, a sink and a toilet. I couldn’t wait to try it out. The kitchen seemed huge, with lots of metal cupboards, a stove and a refrigerator. The living room had a large picture window that looked out on a large front yard and a massive cornfield across the road. The basement was unfinished but covered the entire length of the house. (Not a root cellar like in Mills).

Our moving truck finally pulled into the driveway, and we all did our best to help move our belongings and clothes into the house and put them into the proper rooms.

Dad assured us that we would drive into town tomorrow to see everything.

The next day as promised, we all piled into our car and set out on our adventure to see the new city we moved to. Dad pointed out various landmarks and buildings along our path as we drove back toward town. There was a trailer court just where the highways of 61 and 316 intersected. I had never seen so many trailer houses in one place. It looked like a small community. Remind me to tell you later about the pop cooler in the public laundry building.

We drove further into town; these gigantically tall concrete silos really stood out. Dad called this the King Midas Flour mill and told us that is where grains come from the farmers and within these large buildings, the grains are converted into flour for baking and sold at the local grocery stores. Before we got to the mill, though, Dad turned right on a gravel road, drove a couple hundred feet, and stopped the car. We all got out and Dad walked us across this field to see what we could hear: a beautiful waterfall that fell into a steep valley and continued downwards through various rapids as a river. He pointed out to us that this was the Vermillion River and from this point, it went all the way and emptied into the Mississippi River. Dad advised us strongly not to go near this place on our own. (Why, Dad, just what aren’t we supposed to see). What a wonder this new city was becoming. I think my brothers were already forming in their minds how they would someday climb down that ravine.

Across from the mill was a Skelly gas station, a small cafe called Sunnyside, and a grocery store called Pitzs next to it. Dad said this is a great store to get things we needed when we weren’t shopping at Super Valu (which we had no clue what that meant).

As we drove further down Vermillion Street, Dad pointed out the bowling alley on the left called Hiniker Lanes; he said it was downstairs under the building and that he might someday join a bowling league, as he used to bowl in New York Mills. What a pleasant look was shared between my mom and Dad.

Half a block further, we turned right on 18th Street and into a Chevrolet and Cadillac dealership called Freeds. We had all heard this name before, knowing this was where Dad now worked. It was a white cinder block building with a rounded roof. There were cars all over the lot as well as a couple inside a glassed-in showroom. You could see the pride in my dad’s eyes as he drove through the lot and pointed out the garage doors and explained what was behind them. He told us that soon he would bring us and introduce us to Mr. and Mrs. Freed, his new bosses.

After we left there, he pointed out the creamery, where they processed milk from the nearby farms and packaged it in cartons, which we were familiar with as Mills had one too. Across from the creamery and to the west was a Buick dealership and a restaurant called 7 C’s. Just across the street from the creamery to the North was a large house that resembled a castle. My Dad called it the LeDuc Mansion and said that at one time or another, a few presidents either stayed or visited there. He didn’t think anyone lived there now and that it was more of a museum than a home. Next to the mansion was the woods that looked like they had walking paths in them. Little did I know then, but I would be riding my bike through those woods year after year.

He pointed out that across from the mansion was a gas station and behind that was where they would be building a new grade school where we, the kids, might be attending. Really Dad, no need to bring up school at the beginning of summer, but it still peaked our interest.

Further down the street, Dad pointed out a motel called the Sunset Inn, where he stayed when he first came to town. After he stayed there a bit, he could stay at one of the salesman’s homes until he could close on the house we just came from.

This time, just past the hotel was another Standard Oil gas station. This town seemed full of gas stations; I recall Mills having only two. At the next intersection was a shoe repair shop called Ott’s Shoe Repair (next to that house was where Connie lived) and across the street, a sports shop just called Joe’s.

Between the stores and businesses were houses of various sizes and when we went past cross streets, you could look down and see houses on both sides as far as you could see.

As we drove further down Vermillion Street, Dad pointed out more stores, the Ford garage, the football field, the Chrysler and Plymouth dealership and a building where they sold tractors and farm equipment, which we were quite familiar with and the high school with its tower that my sister took interest in.

We then drove down the street and the big silver bridge appeared again. What a beautiful sight. There were businesses, bars, and cafes, and we finally discovered what a Super Valu was. Dad said it was a huge grocery store, bigger than anything we had ever seen. I couldn’t wait to see the inside. I think my mom was somewhat dreading it.

Right before we got to the bridge, Dad turned right on one of the side streets and we drove to what they called downtown. The first thing I saw was a movie theater called the Riviera. Dad said they had movies there and they changed them every week. We had a movie theater in Mills where I saw my first and only movie starring the Lone Ranger and Tonto. I was getting excited about being able to see another movie.

We drove to the main street and Dad turned left and we were in awe as we drove past store after store and shop after shop on both sides of the street. Mills had a downtown, I guess, but it had a few stores, a barber, a bar, a furniture store, a bakery, a drug store and three restaurants. Hastings seemed to have everything from grocery stores, clothing stores, drug stores, a music store, a barber shop, a salon, a five-and-dime store, a large post office and other stores, which I had no idea what they sold. It was a beautiful city, and I couldn’t wait to explore it and go into every store.

As we were driving a little further, we had to stop to let a train cross in front of us. Dad pointed out the bridge crossing over the Mississippi and told us that when bigger boats come up and down the river, sometimes they had to open the bridge and swing it sideways to let the boats pass. I had no clue what he was talking about.

After the train had passed (87 cars), we drove further across the tracks to an area that Dad said was called Cow-town or the bottoms because there used to be farms there and they raised cattle right there. Now there were some smaller homes and a dirt road close to the river. It was our first glimpse of the Mississippi, and we begged Dad to let us out, but he just said to wait and bring us to a better part of the river where we could get out and explore.

Dad turned the car around and headed back towards downtown, where all the stores were. As we drove near an old hotel called the Gardner House, Dad turned the car towards the river. We went a block, turned left, and drove into a gravel parking area just above the river. We all got out and Dad left us to ourselves to explore the river if we didn’t go down by it. But some stairs led right down to the water, and we just had to take those stairs down and at least put our fingers in the cool river. The view was almost magical as you looked up at the river and almost above you was the large, majestic bridge that we had come over just yesterday.

Just past the bridge, the river had a sharp bend that went north, but you could see the shoreline heading off into the distance to some kind of structure that looked like it went completely across the river. Dad told us it was called a lock and dam. The lock part was an area with large gates in the water that would let big boats called barges through to go up and down the river as well as there were large gates that could be lowered or raised that controlled both the flow and depth of the river. The dam part was just that, a large earthen and concrete dam that curbed the river’s flow into a large expanse of water that looked like a lake. When we asked if we could see it, we were awe-struck when Dad said yes, we could drive over there and maybe even see boats going through. Where we were standing, if you looked downstream, you could see the railroad bridge that crossed the river and downstream from that was just the river flowing through what looked like forests. My Dad said that just beyond where we could see was where another river called the St. Croix entered the Mississippi. It was in a city called Prescott and it was actually in another state called Wisconsin. After just going through the first grade, I wasn’t too up in history yet, but I formed an image of what a Wisconsin was.

We all piled up in the car again and headed out. We drove through the rest of downtown and then turned right down a road that headed towards the river and then turned north again and followed the river. We drove for a while, but it was only a few minutes. We could see the banks of the Mississippi on the right and what appeared to be a small lake on the left that Dad said was called Lake Rebecca. Soon we neared some brick houses along the river and fences surrounding the huge lock and dam my dad told us about. We all got out of the car again and Dad directed us to a platform with stairs to climb and better see the whole river. It was truly amazing to get my first glimpse of this lock and dam.

There was what looked like a smaller river with huge wooden doors on either end. Dad explained that the river was higher or deeper on the north end than on the south. The doors held back the river and the many gates that went across this great river to the other side. He said they could open the doors and let the boats inside when boats came. They would tie them up and then close the doors. Then they would let some of the water out the south side until it was even with the river again. At that time, they would open the south doors, the boats would continue down the river, and the doors would close again. When boats came up the river, it would be the opposite; the doors would open, the boats would enter, and they would raise the river inside the lock until it was as high as the north side and then open the large wooden doors again and the boats would continue upriver.

Dad told us they had to do this for any size boat, even if it was a canoe. I was already thinking about someday I wanted to go through these locks in a boat or canoe. Dad told us that there were large boats called tugs that pushed barges full of wheat and grain and other things up and down the river and that they were so big that when they were in the lock, they went from end to end with barely any room left to open or close the doors. I couldn’t wait to see one of those and he assured us that they would come through every day and sometime this summer, we would be back when we knew one was going through.

We then piled back into the car and drove up 2nd street. It was a long, steep hill. When we topped the hill, we went about a half mile further, seeing a cemetery on the right and just beyond that, Dad pointed out the hospital on the left. He pointed down the road and told us that just down this road was once a small town named Nininger that tried to grow and become a city, but it never succeeded and there was nothing left but a few houses.

After that, Dad said that we had the rest of our lives to see more, but it was time to head back home and I think even though it was exciting and a lot to take in, we had to admit we were all tired and ready to enjoy our house and neighborhood again. I can’t recall if Mom made dinner that night, but it wouldn’t have surprised me.

Being 73 now, I don’t recall much of that first summer. I turned seven that July third, but I don’t recall if I had a party or anything but maybe family. I know we got to know the neighborhood kids quickly and suddenly had new friends galore. Seems there was a neighbor at an age for each of us. Sometimes when we were too rambunctious and maybe got into a squabble here and there, my mom would pack us up and take us to the roadside park by the swimming pool. She would sit on a blanket and read, and we would play on the playground equipment and in the picnic shelter until she thought we were cooled down enough. She sure knew us because we would get back home and start playing with that same neighbor we were fighting with earlier.

I never knew how our family stood financially. I always thought we lived like kings. There was always food on the table, clothes (we thought patches on our knees were normal), a bed to sleep in, an inside toilet and a TV.

What else could you ask for?

Some of our evening meals were boiled potatoes with milk gravy, crackers in warm milk, syrup on white bread, cut-up hot dogs and fried potatoes, and a ring of baloney with boiled potatoes and gravy on toast (which I still absolutely love today). We also had boxed Chef Boy R dee pizza made with hamburger, fried potatoes with fried onions, hot dish, wieners with ketchup, creamed beans or peas on potatoes, homemade baked beans on freshly made buns, pancakes, cereal, scrambled eggs, bread with brown sugar, riced potatoes and fish sticks. On Sundays, we would have mashed potatoes, minute steaks, fried SPAM or maybe fried chicken that we brought from my grandpa’s farm. There was always lots of Campbell’s vegetable or chicken noodle soup.

For breakfast, we had Kellogg’s Corn Flakes, Rice Krispies, Cheerios, Wheaties, Cream of Wheat, Malt-O-Meal, Shredded Wheat or my favorite (which I still enjoy today) Cocoa Krispies with soggy toast.

My Mom & Dad never let on how much we didn’t have. They always just showed us a happy life daily.

What was happening in Hastings and the world that summer and throughout the rest of 1957 I pretty much learned from my parents reading the local newspaper, the Hastings Gazette, as well as what was on the nightly news that evening at 10 PM. Mom & Dad usually watched WCCO-TV on channel 4 with the newscaster Dave Moore.

CHAPTER 2

2ND GRADE

JULY 1957 – JUNE 1958

Summers in Hastings meant great fun. Playing ball with the neighbors or playing cars in the dirt at our house. I had a good collection of cars and trucks, and my dad left an area right next to the back of the house where he never planted grass. Just black dirt and sand that we could build roads and bridges from Popsicle sticks and usually, about 3-5 boys would play there. We dug a series of large holes in the field out behind our house. Probably about 3-5 feet deep and large enough to accompany a couple of kids. We just called this area the hole, our parents always knew where we were when we told them The hole.

We also played at the end of the housing development on a dirt road that we called Serra’s Road (because it led down the road to a large white house owned by the Serra family). At the end of the road nearest the highway was a large tree which of course we called the tree house, and we played and climbed there a lot while growing up. There was also a culvert which was only about 18 in diameter that we used to crawl under the road in.

On Sundays, we would go for a family drive and scope out more of the new area. Hastings had a great swimming and wading pool, which we were excited to use. I knew we were too young to use the big pool for now, but the wading pool with the big sprinkler in the center looked inviting. We drove past the football field and Dad told us that was where the Hastings Raiders football team played on Friday nights after school started in September and he was looking forward to going and watching some games (another look over at Mom). We crossed over a highway and drove up a short hill and Dad pointed out the church we would be going to. It was called Our Saviour’s Lutheran, and it was a large church. Dad said there were many other churches in Hastings and numerous different denominations, which I had no clue what he meant. We had always attended church in Mills, and I looked forward to meeting some new kids that would probably be in my Sunday School classes. Dad pointed out various other parts of town, including a new housing development called Westwood.

We then went into various neighborhoods and looked at some houses that Dad was also considering buying before he got the one, we have now. He showed us a couple of smaller grocery stores; one near the pool called Parkway Grocery that the Sunday School superintendent’s family owned and another on the east side of town called Linstedts, named after the couple which owned it. The rest of the trip included a great drive across the bridge and up and down some hills until we came to what looked like a lake and another river. This was Prescott that Dad was talking about and once we crossed the bridge, we were in the state of Wisconsin, which meant absolutely nothing to me at the time.

Some of my neighborhood friends at this time were Bob, Tony (Punky) & Rich K., Dave, Jimmy & Bruce E., Benny D., Kevin K. and Ricky C. As you can see, these are all boys; I didn’t become interested in some of their sisters until later. There was always someone to play with other than your own brothers or sister. Sometimes Jimmy E. and I would get into fights and then, of course, Mom would take us to the roadside park to separate us and when we got back home, we had forgotten what we had fought about and were best of friends again.

On Friday nights, we would go downtown for groceries and just for shopping. Hastings had the largest grocery stores I had ever seen. Aisles and aisles of different foods and beverages (and the candy aisle, all within reach). We were used to the small Co-op grocery and hardware store in New York Mills.

Some of the things that were happening that year eluded me and some had significant impacts on me. There were bigger fins and lights on cars, and I loved all of them. Since my dad worked at the Chevrolet and Cadillac dealer, we always seemed to talk about cars in conversations at home. The average car sold for $2,749 at that time, which was significant because the average hourly wage was just $1 and average wages for a year were $4,550. The average cost of a new home was $12,200. Gas was a mere .24 a gallon, but when you looked at the hourly wage, it was significant. There were only full-service gas stations where the owner or attendant came out after they heard the bell ring when you drove over the tubing with your car and pumped your gas, checked your oil as well as tire pressure and cleaned your windows. Occasionally you would also get gift stamps with your gas purchase or even free towels or glassware.

Our favorite TV shows were American Bandstand with Dick Clark and some of the best singing groups as well as some of the new dances and everyone lip sang, Gunsmoke with Matt Dillon and Chester and Kitty and Doc, The Danny Thomas Show (Make Room For Daddy) with Danny, Rusty Hamer, Angelia Cartwright, Marjorie Lord and Shelly Jackson, The Ed Sullivan Show with Buddy Holly & Elvis Presley, The $64,000 Question, which came under scrutiny later as it was found there was cheating, Lassie with Timmy and Mr. & Mrs. Martin, You Bet Your Life with Groucho Marx, Cheyenne with Clint Walker, Sugarfoot with Will Hutchins, Wagon Train with Ward Bond & Robert Horton, The Perry Como Show, The Red Skelton show with his many characters; Clem Kadiddlehopper, Freddie the Freeloader, Gertrude & Heathcliff, George Appleby & San Fernando Red and his humble ending of each show Good night and God Bless, The Gale Storm Show, The Millionaire, This is Your Life with Ralph Edwards, Father Knows Best with Robert Young, Jane Wyatt, Elinor Donahue, Billy Gray and Lauren Chapin, The Loretta Young Show, Zorro with Guy Williams, The Real McCoys with Walter Brennan and Tales of Wells Fargo with Dale Robertson.

Our favorite movies of that year were The Bridge on the River Kwai, Old Yeller (and who didn’t shed a tear at that show when Old Yeller was put down because of rabies), A Farewell to Arms, Pal Joey, Gunfight at the OK Corral and Don’t Go Near the Water and of course Jailhouse Rock with Elvis himself.

I think some of the singers and songwriters I didn’t know were influencing me at the time, like Elvis, Pat Boone, Perry Como, The Everly Brothers and Chuck Berry. You could go down to Bob’s Music on 2nd Street and buy a high-fidelity phonograph for $79.95. Who had $79.95 except the very wealthy? I loved to listen to music, as well as watch performers sing. My Mother always sang around the house, and it wasn’t till some years later that I realized what she was singing were hits from the forties and fifties.

I remember starting second grade in the fall. While Gloria went off to the high school building, Ron and Gary went off to who knows where I went to Hiawatha across the parking lot from the high school. We would catch the bus with our neighbors at the end of the driveway. I recall either George or Marguerite Marschall drove our bus. Seems like it was a big orange, Ford. I remember always enjoying riding the bus because we connected with all our neighbors again before school and there were also the big kids we didn’t know and were quite scary.

My second-grade teacher was Miss Minnett. I really can’t remember any of the kids in my class except Debbie Ireland. A girl with curly brown hair and the biggest brown eyes I had ever seen. I remember that she moved to Canada with her parents just after second grade. Our playground was the parking lot and we played kickball and dodgeball as we boys generally chased the girls around.

During that fall and winter, we made numerous trips back to Mills to visit our relatives and friends. It seems that on every other visit, we would stay over at the other grandparents’ house; spend Friday night and Saturday there and then see the other grandparents for Sunday dinner before we left for Hastings. At that time in my life, I enjoyed staying overnight at both places. We slept in a big feather bed on the second floor when we stayed at Grandpa and Grandma Rimpilas on the farm. All four kids together and my parents slept down the hall in a separate bedroom. The heat was supplied to the upstairs in the fall and winter months through a register in my parent’s bedroom floor. There was a wood-burning stove in the living room down below.

It was wonderful staying there. We were always tired Friday night because we usually didn’t get there until about 11 PM because of the two-lane drive through many towns from Hastings. We always left Hastings after my dad finished work at 6 PM.

My grandparents always had coffee and cake ready for us when we arrived. Then we kids went off to bed, covered up snugly and didn’t wake up until morning. We made sure to either use the outside two-holer or porcelain pot before retiring. When we woke in the morning, my grandmother had already been up for some time and always seemed to be baking something. There was always a table set with Cheerios or Wheaties, fresh homemade bread and butter, jam, and canned orange juice. The memory of the tinny taste of the orange juice still stays with me today.

We would play outside regardless of the weather because you were expected to do that on the farm. My grandfather and my dad would already be out at the barn doing chores and my mother would be expected to stay inside with my grandmother and try to drum up some conversations.

About mid-morning, we all went back to the kitchen for a break. Usually, there was bread and jam, always hot coffee and cake. Back outside playing or gathering eggs or wood for the stoves and back inside for lunch. Meat & potatoes, vegetables and canned fruit for dessert, coffee, or whole milk. It was supper time after an afternoon of a nap after lunch and then more playing. Supper would be more meat and potatoes, a wonderful hot dish, and more canned fruit for dessert. There always seemed to be Jello too. Never Jello by itself but with an added ingredient; bananas with strawberry Jello, carrots and celery with lime or lemon Jello, grapes with grape Jello. After supper, we would gather eggs or feed the milking cow’s fresh hay. There was always something to do on the farm and we all loved it.

When we stayed at Grandma Bakkens and Pete’s; (We always called him Pete instead of Grandpa because that is what my mom called him), I sometimes felt bad that we didn’t call him Grandpa because I really think he would have liked it. We tried a few times when we were older, but it just didn’t stick.

We would either sleep upstairs in their low-ceiling attic or on the living room floor, depending on how many of us there were. We would play across the street in what were peat bogs or walk to the elementary school playground where swings, a merry-go-round, teeter totters and a huge stainless slide that must have gone up at least 100' in our minds but 15" in reality. On Saturday, we would either go downtown Mills and shop in the local stores or make a trip to the metropolis of Wadena, where they had a Ben Franklin, Gambles, and two blocks of stores. It was very similar to Hasting’s downtown. In Mills, there was a drug store, a Co-op store, a variety store, and a bakery. We would watch TV at their house on Saturday nights or visit our cousins Petersen’s in the country.

On Sunday, we would go to church and then have a huge Sunday dinner and either see our cousins the Martins or Stovers in Wadena or our cousins James, Judy and Jeffrey on the Rimpila side. Grandma Bakken always seemed to have homemade bread, jelly and cake available.

We would always start back to Hastings in mid to late afternoon. It was about a 4-1/2 hour drive back to Hastings. The car was packed again, and it was the best ride in the front seat between my dad and Mom as the view was better and there was always Mom to lean on and fall asleep.

On the way to Mills on Friday evenings, after Dad got off work at 6 PM, we usually picked up 6 hamburgers for $1 at a drive-in called Rods near Elk River. This would be our supper and then there would be one more stop at the Standard station in St. Cloud for gas and a bottle of pop for each of us. My favorite was always orange crush.

Mom and Dad would sit in the front, with one kid and 3 kids in the back seat. Somehow entertaining ourselves. On our way home, I always tried to get in the front seat between Mom and Dad because I was the youngest. I again would fall asleep leaning on Mom and before I knew it, we had arrived in Mills at one of our destinations. It didn’t matter about the season, as we went there on a regular basis.

We had wonderful cousins we could visit while we were at the Mills weekends. The Petersen’s (my mother’s brother, his wife and