Church in the Windshield

Boys Town

October 24, 2019

 

 

We have always been intrigued and fascinated with Boy’s Town and the kind of work that was being done. None the less, neither of us had ever been to Boys Town so when we were invited to see Boys Town and experience its history, we jumped at the chance. When we entered the Hall of History, we were amazed at the things we saw. We realized that Boys Town was far greater than expected and that we needed to write a blog about it. I asked the lady at the desk if we could take some pictures and she said, “Yes, but no flashes please.” We honored that request and took lots of pictures. Some of the pictures I will use in this blog. A couple of days ago, I received from Boys Town the written permission I needed to write the blog. Indeed, I was happy about that; reviewed the pictures that I had taken and once again reviewed the historical material that I found in their Boys Town a Century publication. Consequently, the historical information that we will be using came from that publication.

Fr. Flanagan had a passion for the well-being of young homeless boys and his passion was certainly a special calling from God. It takes a special calling, insight, vision and compassion to do the mission work of Fr. Flanagan. But when God blesses a mission, it always does well and Boys Town was no exception. Fr. Flanagan started the mission for boys in 1917 with five boys and they lived in a drafty old boarding house at Dodge and 25^th Street in Omaha. This ninety-dollar borrowed investment started the first home for boys. Fr. Flanagan’s philosophy was “There are no bad boys.” So, all were welcome without regard to race or creed. By 1921 the program had out grown the boarding house and Fr. Flanagan borrowed money to purchase Overlook Farm outside of Omaha. It became known as “Village of Boys Town.”
As I began to tour around the museum, which was very well done, I might add. I began to notice that Boys’ town was so much more than an orphanage. It was the life blood of developing young men. It was a trade school that offered training for boys to learn how to support themselves in life. One of the first scenes that I witnessed was that of a boy with tattered clothes and worn

out shoes, sleeping in a box and that certainly gave my heart a tug. It must have given Fr. Flanagan’s heart a tug as well. So how do you help these young boys? When Fr. Flanagan purchased the farm, he started teaching the boys how to plant food, and take care of the farm. Much of the food for the boys came from the farm. Consequently, the boys learned the farming industry and most likely some of the boys became farmers. That in itself is a success story but it does not end there. I turned and saw the gas pump. It was so unique that I had to take a picture of it. The gas pump was just like the

one we had at a gas station in my home town ever so many years ago. I thought about that for a few moments and my mind drifted back to those “growing up days” of my child hood. And to this day, I can remember the station owner slowly moving the pump handle back and forth. With impatient eyes, I watched the giant glass tube fill with gasoline, seemed like an eternity. Finally, the ten gallon glass was full and we would place the hose in our tank and wait for the gas to drain. The glass was marked with numbers starting at the top of the glass. As the fuel drained, it would show how many gallons went into the gas tank . . . one . . . two . . . three and finally it would drain to ten. The old pump must have taught some of the boys to be filling station operators . . . most fascinating!
A dental chair and ex-ray machine came into view and I remember sitting in a dentist chair very similar to the one in the picture. For a time my mind placed me in the dental chair. I imagined seeing the two meters, one that told the strength of the x-ray and the other one . . . who knows? The machine would whir and then click, “All done now,” the dentist would say. Perhaps you can remember the dentist drill that had pulleys, belts and joints that would allow it to move in any

direction. Some of the boys may have become dentists. A telephone switchboard reminded me of times long ago when an operator would plug lines so that people could communicate. Each switchboard had a limited number of phone lines but there was always a line or two that could connect to other towns. Those towns in turn could connect to other towns, so to place a long distance call, one operator would connect to another . . . and another until the distant town would be connected. Some of the boys may have

turned out to be telephone operators. This certainly, was an opportunity for someone to learn the skills of a telephone operator.  Another form of communication was the printed word.
Boys Town had a printing press and the boys learned how to set it up and print publications. This was an excellent opportunity for them to learn a new life skill and prepare themselves for the future. I gazed at the old printing press for a while and wondered how it worked? 

A “cut away” of a John Deere tractor gave evidence of mechanical training. The boys could experience first-hand how the tractor worked. They learned how to repair and assemble the engine, transmission, differential and brakes. There is no doubt in my mind that some of the boys became well respected mechanics. Fr. Flanagan had such keen insight on teaching the boys’ life sustaining trade skills.I saw the Boys Town Flxible bus sitting across the room in all of its glory. The headlights were on

and the door was open. Flxible was made in America and was a very popular bus in its day. As I admired the bus, I couldn’t help but remember my early bus driving days. Although I never drove a Flxible, I did drive a refurbished Silver Eagle and a refurbished Scenic Cruiser (GMC double decker). But I digress to memories of years gone by. I must look inside. The inside was just as magnificent as the outside.

A huge steering wheel adorned with a chrome horn ring and red center caught my eye. The gear shift was still in place and I couldn’t resist shifting it though there was no transmission. Some may have become drivers.

 

A band wagon called “Father Flanagan’s Boys Shows,” was used to advertise Boys Town in the beginning years. Musical instruments inside the band wagon gave witness that some of them learned to play . . . to entertain . . . and to assist in raising money to support Boys Town. Perhaps some of the boys explored music careers. I have to admire Fr. Flanagan for following the Spirit of God . . . for his creative insight . . . and his compassion for homeless boys. He taught them skills and gave them a new lease on life.

I have a deep respect and great appreciation for Boys Town. I see and hear in my mind, all the billboard signs and the advertising that we heard over the years. 

“HE AIN’T HEAVY, HE’S MY BROTHER”

Until next time, Let us remember Boy’s Town and give God thanks.
Ron & Sheron, drivers behind the windshield

Church in the Windshield

Grandma’s Soda Shop

December 25, 2019

 

It is Christmas morning. Sheron and I are as excited as children scurrying down a stair case to open Christmas packages. We are going to Grandma’s Soda Shop in Wilson, Kansas. Sheron has fashioned two white aprons with Christmas scenes sown smartly in front. We quickly put on our red shirts, dark slacks and shoes as we prepare to help serve the annual Christmas dinner to those that have no place to go for Christmas; families or singles, all are welcome. Although the soda shop provides the dinner as a way of giving back to the community, donations are accepted to help pay for food.  Since we didn’t have a sleigh or even snow, we just drove our red pickup to the soda shop.

Upon arrival to the soda shop, we were greeted with an exuberant “Good Morning” and Merry Christmas.” We are glad that you have come to help us serve today. A quick look around the soda shop revealed special Christmas decorations including two rows of tables that spanned the entire length of the shop. The tables covered with red striped table cloths enhanced the atmosphere of Christmas. Seasonal table decorations added a nice touch as well. And then there was “Sparky.” “Sparky” is a favorite stuffed animal attraction that resides at the soda shop. He is always dressed in seasonal attire and waits patiently for little children to come and give him a “hug.” “Sparky” is always happy and greets people with a big smile. His ears are soft and floppy; his fur inviting to the touch.

An old wooden telephone hangs on the wall giving the place a

feel of early fifties. I turned the crank and heard the bell ring. When I picked up the receiver I could imagine hearing the operator say, “Number please?” Now that’s going back to the good old days! I can even remember our phone number of ages past. Our number was 3303 . . . that meant line 33 and 3 short rings . . . not too bad for being on a seven party line huh! When the phone rang, all seven people on the party line would hear it . . . and listen . . . and listen. This in turn would drag down the power and no one could hear but . . . what fun!  It was like tying a string between two tomato cans and communicating by talking into the cans. Awe yes, those were the good old days . . . . A second look at the phone plays on the imagination. It has hair, (the flowers), two eyes (the bells), a nose (the transmitter), a mouth (the writing board); one ear up (the receiver) and one ear down (the crank).

Beside the telephone, stands a huge cabinet which is now being used for a show case. This antique cabinet displays craft items and other things like painted Czech eggs, coke bottles, a vintage radio, a Christmas tree and other items of interest. This massive solid wood cabinet stands at least eight feet tall and maybe ten feet wide. Its small doors unlatch and open with age old precision. The cabinet is certainly an eye catcher and a great conversation piece for locals and tourists alike, Are any of the items for sale . . . Yes, some of them are and some of them are for enhancement.

Well, it is almost 11:00 a.m. and Aunt Debbie, Uncle Terry, Brittany, Grandpa and Grandma have been in the kitchen cooking since early morning. The ham has been sliced, the turkey roasted, the salad tossed, potatoes mashed, corn creamed, gravy made, and rolls baked to perfection. Two kinds of pie, cherry and pumpkin, have been cut and placed on small plates. Coffee and ice tea has been made; water glasses filled and the silverware wrapped in festive napkins. And, oh did I mention . . . pie . . . two kinds . . . cherry and pumpkin? Grandpa takes one last temperature of the food to make sure it is correct and announces, “I think we are ready!” It’s a good thing too because people are at the front door waiting to get in.  Grandpa and Grandma pose for a quick picture (AKA: Jerry & Virginia Florian. The doors were opened and people began to stream in to the soda shop. There were five assisting that day. Jeanie was in the kitchen; Christopher, Sarah, Sheron and I were in the front. Each one had their own particular task of serving water, tea, coffee. Sheron and I were assigned as greeters and servers. Sheron would serve coffee, tea and meals at the table. I would greet people at the door and wish them welcome and a Merry Christmas. It’s a joy to serve people and especially at Christmas time. Christmas is the time when people put aside their differences; celebrate the birth of Jesus and just enjoy being together. Is that the Christmas spirit . . . we think so?

Some eighty people came that day to enjoy the Christmas dinner and it was fun to learn about them . . . where they came from and how they ended up at the soda shop. One family came from Nevada and had heard about the dinner at the soda shop . . . so they came. I couldn’t help but think about the three wise men . . . travelers from afar came because they had heard about the birth of Jesus. Well Nevada really isn’t the part of the world that the wise men came from . . . but it’s a start.

There was a family that came and spent some time visiting while they waited for others to join them for the Christmas dinner. I asked them if I could take a picture of them and put it in the blog and they graciously accepted.  All too soon the day was over . . . the tables cleared . . . the cloths removed and the chairs arranged in symmetrical order for the next day’s business. The dish washer in the kitchen rumbled, gurgled and emitted little puffs of steam as it washed the last of the cooking utensils. Sheron and I said our “good byes” and felt a little saddened that it was over but we also felt joy that we could help serve people at the Christmas dinner. As we left the soda shop we stopped to take one last look at the show window by the door. . . . Yes, this is what it

is all about. We paused for a moment . . . got in our pickup and drove away . . . .

Until next time, remember what we celebrate at Christmas and put December 25 on your calendar for a superb Christmas Dinner at Grandma’s Soda Shop.

Ron & Sheron, Drivers behind the windshield

Grandma’s Soda Shop is located at 2425 Avenue F in Wilson, Kansas