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True stories of Texas and Nebraska

AlaskaAV

GONE WEST
Mission, TX
Finally, a story or two and all are true of course. :wink:

A link to where much of this type of humor abounds especially from Roger Welsch's memories, all true of course. He has written several humorous books about the old days in Nebraska, especially about Dannebrog, Nebraska, the liars capital of the world. He had his own program on PBS TV and was an essayist for CBS news. His books are well worth reading and normally will not be put down until finished. Check Amazon.com and search for Roger Welsch.

http://www.google.com/search?hl=en&ie=ISO-8859-1&q="roger+welsch"

http://www.google.com/search?hl=en&ie=ISO-8859-1&q=Liars'+Hall+of+Fame+

Now days with the drought in deep south Texas, the Rio Grande River between Mexico and the US is so low, the fish are coming to my home to get a drink of water from my garden hose.

It was so hot here last week that I saw a coyote chasing a rabbit and they were both walking.

In Aurora, Nebraska, a guy told me that around there frogs had grown up to be seven years old without learning how to swim.

Guys from Nebraska, you will understand this one.

Just before Roger bought his farm near Dannebrog, he asked some of the neighbors about the land. He was told that his farm's soil was so bad he would be lucky to raise a ruckus with a gallon of good whiskey, and when he asked if it had been dry out that way, a helpful resident asked him in return "Son, do you know your Bible?"
"Well, a little" he answered uncertainly.
"Remember Noah and the Ark?"
"Yes"
"When it rained forty days and forty nights?"
"Right"
"Well, that summer we had a half inch of rain"

Early settlers in Nebraska told of catching Platte River catfish wearing goggles----to keep the sand out of their eyes.

Those along the Missouri River will understand this one.

Robert Burdette made an observation of the Missouri River, a body of water that was occasionally called "The Harlot" because she changed beds so often.
 
A yes.... Nebraska what a nice place to be from. When you visit don't forget to set your clock back 50 years!
 
mit greb said:
A yes.... Nebraska what a nice place to be from. When you visit don't forget to set your clock back 50 years!

What a trip it was leaving the farm in southeast Nebraska as a 16 year old kid and driving the Alaska Highway the first time in 1954 in a 53 Olds on a family vacation to see my sister in Anchorage. Oh how that road has changed over the 13 times I have driven the highway.

When I moved to Barrow in 1963 and the real bush later, it was really like turning the clock back almost 100 years and living on the real frontier. I often wonder if I would have done it if I weren't so involved in aviation. I had such a wonderful wife and family that it really made it worth while too.
Guess I should share some early stories about those early years raising a family in the bush. Nothing like the farm life in Nebraska for sure.
 
Uff Dah!

Just back from Wayne, great place to visit. Slogging along under the clouds, swallered an intake valve. Hollered Nearest!! Nan had her finger on the map, shouted back Wayne!

Had as much fun as is legal in Nebraska. The FBO and IA treated us well.

Great small town aerodrome, pride in the facilities, walked the grass crosswind runway; the groomed grass had a VERY smooth transition across the hardsurface, something I don't expect.

Sorry to have scooted out of town ahead of the Chicken Days celebration, but no Motel available....

That's what I like about flyin....

Thanks.
Cubscout
 
cubscout said:
Uff Dah!

Just back from Wayne, great place to visit. Slogging along under the clouds, swallered an intake valve. Hollered Nearest!! Nan had her finger on the map, shouted back Wayne!

Had as much fun as is legal in Nebraska. The FBO and IA treated us well.

Great small town aerodrome, pride in the facilities, walked the grass crosswind runway; the groomed grass had a VERY smooth transition across the hardsurface, something I don't expect.

Sorry to have scooted out of town ahead of the Chicken Days celebration, but no Motel available....

That's what I like about flyin....

Thanks.
Cubscout

No motel? Gee, I always carried a mountain tent in the back of the PA-18 out of Merrill Field in Anchorage plus enough dried food for two weeks. I kept hoping I would have to set it down in the bush with the right "co-pilot" so to speak.

Wayne? A big town for Nebraska. Probably the size of the 10th largest town in Alaska. :wink: Is there really anything around Wayne other than chicken egg farms? Needless to say, glad you made it OK and had an experience as you did. Feed the engine a little better and it will not try to swallow a valve. :bang :wink:
 
Thanks, Ernie:

Swallered intake valve wasn't due to powerplant management. Pending results from the overhaul shop, I know they'll treat me right: Had a replacement cylinder assembly in 18 hours....

With encouragement from Airport Management, we drove the Courstey Car up to the Ponca Park, on the Misery River. Real purty, need to contrive a trip hear ~ October for the colour season....

As I said, nicest folks around, but you knew that.

Thanks. Cubscout
 
cubscout said:
Thanks, Ernie:

Swallered intake valve wasn't due to powerplant management. Pending results from the overhaul shop, I know they'll treat me right: Had a replacement cylinder assembly in 18 hours....

With encouragement from Airport Management, we drove the Courstey Car up to the Ponca Park, on the Misery River. Real purty, need to contrive a trip hear ~ October for the colour season....

As I said, nicest folks around, but you knew that.

Thanks. Cubscout

Of course I will get in trouble with SJ and Dana but you are one of a very few that spelled the river name correctly, Misery, just as the state with the same name is spelled. :wink:
Ponca State Park is great of course and I volunteered at a sister state park, Indian Cave, in southeast Nebraska during the summer for 4 years after I retired. What fun and we were on the Misery river too.
 
We get down to visit cousins in the N'brasky City area/Indian caves area some. Not that many folks know about this stuff...

Appreciate your cultural insight.

Thanks: Cubscout
 
cubscout said:
We get down to visit cousins in the N'brasky City area/Indian caves area some. Not that many folks know about this stuff...

Appreciate your cultural insight.

Thanks: Cubscout

How about e-mailing me names from Nebr City, Auburn, Nemaha and Shubert. We probably know the same people. I was born on a farm about 5 miles west south west of Nemaha. How about Larry Cook, the supt of Indian Cave Park?
Who knows, with my background, we might even be related somehow.
 
Back in the late 1920s, a Nebraska farmer had a real problem paying property taxes. There was so much red dust blown north from Oklahoma and Texas that the state of Nebraska shouldn't have taxed it. Actually, often at a later date, the dust would be blown back south so it all equaled out. Some farmers in Kansas were said to travel all the way to Texas to pay their taxes since most of the soil came from there. One good thing for South Dakota was that they didn't have to worry about rotating their crops, the wind just rotated the dirt around.

When I helped tear down the huge 6 bedroom home where I was born, it was something else. It had a kitchen bigger than lots of complete farm homes of the day had. I found red dust well over one inch deep on the horizontal fire stops in the walls. No insulation in those days of course.

During the "dry thirties" a farmer decided to build a fence. One day he drilled a half mile of postholes. Durring the night a strong wind came up and blew away all the top soil. When he went back the next day, all he had was a half mile of postholes standing on top of the ground. Only problem was that in some areas in the midwest, there was lots of cactus. When the wind came up, it would blow those post holes around and poke them so full of holes, they would not hold dirt any more.

Only in Kansas could this happen. I have heard of a story were those holes at least didn''t go to waste. They were fetched out of the ravines where they had blown to and were driven into the ground for a well. That person's grandfather had a well 200 foot deep but the gravel around it was sandy, a windstorm blew it away and left the hole up 200 feet in the air. The grandfather had his son-in-law saw it up and they used it for fence post holes.

There were good things that came out of dust storms though. When we needed something sanded down, we didn't look for sandpaper. We just held the item up to the keyhole in the door and it was sanded in minutes.
 
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