In Remembrance of You
Page 9
Whit’s diary
Stayed all day at Elwood.
Heavy rain in the night as usual. Just dumped around the little hotel full of flies.
Boy, did it rain last night! And today, our little hotel in Elwood is full of flies trying to escape the steamy, wet weather outside. We were trapped in the hotel, just waiting for the ground to dry out.
All this time on my hands gave me time to think. My granddaughter was seeing my life. What was her life like in the future? What would Nebraska look like in the future? What would the streets be made of so they wouldn’t become mud and wash away? Would there be one huge bridge across the state to keep motor cars out of the water?
I laughed, thinking about the scarecrows my granddaughter said to look for. I’m sure they all drowned! This afternoon, I found a mercantile while sloshing through town. There, I bought a little blackbird fetish to put in the watchcase so she would know I looked for the scarecrows.
While I was thinking about my granddaughter’s future, I wondered if one day motor cars would have a kitchen in them so you wouldn’t have to stop for meals. And maybe they would have a bed for when you got tired. A glass window as a windshield might be nice too, although it wouldn’t do you much good when it rained, and you couldn’t see out.
It would also be nice to have a hard top to shelter us from the weather. I understand we could have had a collapsible buggy top, but it wouldn’t have given us much protection.
The rain and the mud were getting to me. I took my spite out on our unrepairable tire. I slung it over a big sow’s head, and she disappeared with it into a muddy field.
Monday August 17
Whit’s diary
Left Elwood in morning.
Mud three or four inches deep. Ran low speed to Bertrand—16 miles in forenoon.
In afternoon ran to Minden.
40 miles in afternoon. 56 miles total day’s run.
The mud was still deep when we pulled out of Elwood. We threaded rope around the rear wheels so the CDO would ride higher. In some places the mud holes were axle-deep. We were up to our knees pushing the machine and had to run in low speed all the way to Bertrand.
After dinner we loped along on drier ground to a ranch just short of Minden, Nebraska. The owners gave us room and board, including supper and breakfast, for fifty cents each! Whit figured we had come a little more than 2,000 miles since leaving San Francisco.
Tuesday August 18
Whit’s diary
Took all morning to get to Minden.
Stuck in mud, pulled out by a team.
Got into Minden at 1:30 p.m.
Streets ran water like a river. Put up for the day.
It took us all morning to go 10 miles to Minden. A farmer and his team of horses pulled us out when we bogged down again in the mud. Our engine began to pound, so we stopped, took out the piston, and packed the head. We rolled into Minden, ate dinner, and put in three gallons of gasoline. A sudden downpour drenched us before we could get underway again. That did it! We stayed there for the rest of the day. The rainstorms had been terrible for the past three weeks. The “shower” this afternoon measured four inches! Cattle were drowning in their pastures. Water was six feet deep in some places on the road.
We took a room in a boarding house for the night. I wrote a letter home, and Whit worked on an article for a magazine. We heard someone running on the boardwalk outside. It was our landlady. Without knocking, she rushed into our room! She pulled her pocketbook out from under the mattress, turned, and left without a word. After that incident, we made it a habit to look under mattresses before we occupied them! We made only a miserable 10 miles today and could go no further.
Wednesday August 19
Whit’s diary
Stayed at Minden all day for mud to dry and water to settle.
Circus in town.
Darned hard to have to wait for mud.
We had no choice but to stay in Minden and wait for the water to run off and the mud to dry up.
A local doctor had a Curved Dash Olds stabled in his barn not far from our hotel and came to tell us it would not run. I jokingly told him he’d better leave it there and buy a boat to make his house calls. The doctor wanted us to look at it and persuaded me to go with him to help find the trouble.
I “operated” on the doctor’s machine. There was nothing seriously wrong with it. The first thing I saw was a disconnected wire at the trembler coil. This prevented the spark from firing the spark plug, but I said nothing. I knew some engine “doctoring” stuff myself. I squinted and looked as wise as I could and said the problem was in the head. I didn’t say whose head, but I took off my coat and rolled up my sleeves. To appear busy, I removed some nuts and put them back.
Then, when the doctor was looking the other way, I fastened the loose ignition wire, cranked her over, and off she went. “Aha,” said the doctor. “You surely know your business! I’ve had several mechanics try to fix it. How much do I owe you?”
“How would five dollars sound?” I asked.
“Cheap enough and many thanks!” the doctor replied.
Later, when I related the story to Whit, he asked, “Aren’t you ashamed to play such a trick on the doctor?”
Thursday August 20
Whit’s diary
Left Minden at 8 a.m.
Roads quite dry except in lagoons.
Had to wade again. 12 miles out ran into deeper mud caused by a local shower day before.
For five miles very wet then roads grew better.
Stopped for dinner at Juniata.
Hastings at 2 p.m. Big town, then ran to Grafton for night. Day’s run—80 miles.
Burst rear tire and put on our only extra one.
Just outside of Minden, we ran into deep mud caused by yesterday’s rain. It was wet for the next 5 miles. We stopped long enough to have dinner in Juniata.
The roads were good in some places, rough in others. A rear tire burst with a screaming whistle, then a sighing noise, leaving a hole too big to patch. We put on our last spare. There isn’t much else to report. We made it to Grafton, the best run for the last nine days!
Friday August 21
Whit’s diary
Ran Grafton to Ashland—100 miles.
Burst one front tire. Put corn meal and rag in hole.
At Ashland it was 30 miles to East Lincoln which we passed through about 4 p.m.
We found no bridge left, since the rains, across the Platte River. We were told we would have to go 35 miles north to Fremont, then 55 into Omaha but only 30 by rail to Omaha.
Stopped at Commercial Hotel.
Not long out of Grafton this morning, we damaged a front tire beyond repair. There we were without an extra, and Omaha was more than 130 miles away! We ran on the deflated tire into Fairmont, where a miller supplied us with coarse cornmeal. Whit and I took turns stuffing that tire with the cornmeal until it would take no more. We plugged a rag into the hole and tied another around it. There were still a few more mud slews ahead. On higher ground the mud had dried, leaving sharp-edged wagon wheel ruts that were hard on our tires.
Our rig passed through East Lincoln and continued to Ashland, Nebraska. There we found that heavy flooding had washed out the Platte River Bridge. Normally, it would have been only 30 miles from the bridge to Omaha. But because the bridge was out, we figured we might have to go the long way around: 35 miles to the north, crossing the Platte on a bridge near Fremont, then heading southeast another 35 miles to Omaha. We telephoned Yutan, only 17 miles north of us, and learned we might be able to cross the river there. With that possibility in mind, we stopped at the Commercial Hotel in Ashland for the night.
Saturday August 22
Whit’s diary
Left Ashland at 8 a.m.
At end of a mile we found engine hot and pump broke so we connected pipes direct water tank to upper and lower side water jacket. Could run two or three miles when we would draw out boiling water and put in new supply. We did this all day,
running 50 miles to Omaha.
Went in to Oldsmobile Engine Works for repairs.
Outside of Ashland, our engine ran hot because of a broken water pump. Rather than repair it, we connected the piping direct from the water tank to the cylinder water jacket, bypassing the pump. Every 2 or 3 miles, I jumped out, drained off the boiling water, and refilled the tank. I got buckets of water wherever I could, from ranches, windmills, and streams. We kept this up all day.
Our front tire lost most of the cornmeal yesterday, so we filled it with oats, stuffed a new rag into the hole, and kept going. I think we planted oats over 100 miles of Nebraska! When most of it flew out, we decided to wrap our towrope around the tire and run her through to Omaha.
A parade of Curved Dash Runabouts met us on the outskirts of the city and led us into town. A young lady drove one of the rigs with a female passenger. They got my attention right away.
Someone gave us a copy of an Omaha newspaper, which heralded the arrival of Tom Fetch in his Packard in New York City yesterday, sixty-one days on the road! He had beaten Jackson’s time by one day. Ah, but they weren’t carrying mail, nor did they go farther than New York City, as we planned to do. Good for them anyway!
Note from Granddaughter’s letter:
In a photo taken in Omaha of other Runabout owners, there were two young ladies in a CDO. Please tell them that many more women will join them in the future, driving their children to school and themselves to work.
Now my granddaughter’s talking. She finds young ladies for me! Women should drive, too. Seems this granddaughter and I think alike.
Sunday August 23
Whit’s diary
Did nothing on machine.
The Oldsmobile people here in Omaha took us to the Merchant’s Hotel last night and ordered the best the house offered, the bill to be sent to them.
The garage wasn’t open for us to work on the machine today since it is Sunday. Because I had some free time, I asked to be introduced to the young ladies my granddaughter spoke of. Hubba, hubba! I told the gals I was really proud of them, because in the future, women would be driving their kidlets to school and themselves to work. They didn’t seem surprised.
I was bursting at the seams to tell someone about my granddaughter’s letter, so I shared it with the gals. I showed them the watchcase I had started filling with mementos for my granddaughter. They didn’t question any of my story. If anyone could come over the country the distance we did, with conditions we had—anything was possible! They were in such awe—I could have come from the future!
Monday August 24
Whit’s diary
Four men took hold of our machine and Hammond and I besides and tore our machine all to pieces. We found the piston wrist pin broken in three pieces. Cylinder head slotted out by the loose ends of wrist pin.
Replaced with new cylinder, pin, piston, front steering spring, many new spokes, one new tire.
Wired together speed gear as the small sprocket was sheared away and was running on loose pins.
Put in new rear truss rod, new batteries.
It took six of us—four men, Whit, and me—to tear apart the machine. The wrist pin was broken, and the cylinder wall was scored.
After the extreme conditions we had been through for the last week, it was no wonder we had to replace a cylinder, a wrist pin, a piston, a front steering spring, and spokes in the wheels. I was getting good at changing tires! I put on a new one. We also installed a new set of batteries and put on a new rear axle truss rod.
Fighting the mud slews across the state of Nebraska had taken its toll on the plucky little Olds. We had asked her to do the impossible, yet she managed to get us to Omaha, Nebraska, the halfway point of our expedition. Could she make it all the way? We would surely try!
Tuesday August 25
Whit’s diary
Finished repairing machine.
Made preparations to start next morning.
We finished repairs on the machine today, and it ran fairly well, though the engine would need further running to really break it in.
Whit and I took some time out over a cup of coffee. He reminded me that R.E. Olds had designed the Runabout to get from one place to another. It was never meant to be a grand touring car. We both felt that the rig could take it, and when repairs were necessary, they were doable.
We made preparations to start for Des Moines in the morning. In the meantime, Whit had a dozen films developed and four dozen 4 x 5 pictures printed for two dollars and twenty-five cents at an Eastman shop in town. He wrote of our progress to the auto magazines, and enclosed photographs proving “we were there.” He also sent the negatives to Mr. Olds.
Wednesday August 26
Whit’s diary
Instead of starting, it rained. Commenced at 3 a.m. and rained terribly hard there during the whole day.
Thundered and lightninged.
It rained the hardest I ever saw—5” to 10” all over Iowa and Nebraska.
Several people drowned in Iowa. Never in 20 years has so much rain fallen here in 24 hours so weather report said.
It was no use. We just had to stop right here till roads were good enough.
We were awakened in the night by fierce claps of thunder, set off by blinding flashes of lightning. It rained like cats and dogs for the whole day as one thunderstorm after another boomed across Omaha. Before sundown, a total of ten inches of rain had fallen on the city! The Weather Bureau in Omaha reported that this was the largest amount of rainfall in a day ever recorded.
Conditions were so extreme that all but two daily trains between Omaha and Chicago were out of service. We just had to stay in Omaha until the water drained and the roads dried off enough to drive on.
Thursday August 27
Whit’s diary
Visited stock yards and loafed around.
Telegraphed Oldsmobile about rain. Also Lansing office. Remained at Omaha.
Cloudy but no rain.
The Missouri River had overflowed its banks. Omaha had become an island in the middle of the United States, surrounded by water and mud for hundreds of miles. Thank goodness, we made it to Omaha and had a dry garage for our repairs. The rain had ceased, but the sky remained cloudy. We knew we had to remain in Omaha due to the impassable road conditions to the east.
Whit telegraphed Olds Motor Works in Detroit about the flooding. We were marooned! He sent a similar telegram to Mr. Olds in Lansing. We felt somewhat cheered by a telegram we received from him yesterday, which read:
I WISH TO CONGRATULATE YOU ON YOUR SUCCESS SO FAR. HAVE OUR PEOPLE FIX YOU UP IN GOOD ORDER FOR BALANCE OF TRIP. WIRE DETROIT OFFICE ALSO OF PROGRESS. R.E. OLDS.
This was a pleasant surprise. Mr. Olds was pleased enough with our travels to see to it that the rig was taken care of for the rest of the trip.
Friday August 28
Whit’s diary
Cloudy—no rain.
Loafing about city. Lodged at Merchants Hotel.
Although there was no rain today, we still could not move on. We spent our time walking about the city for exercise.
If my granddaughter had only ridden through Nebraska in the 1903 CDO, she would have seen the flooding. Her advice would have been to stay home!
I got to see my two lady friends again. They showed me around town, and we got to visit. I learned the girls were sisters. Their father is a jeweler. They gave me a pearl and asked that it be placed in the watchcase for my granddaughter. I think they believed I really was a time traveler!
Saturday August 29
Whit’s diary
Remained at Omaha. No chance to proceed.
The roads were still impassable. Yesterday, just across the river from us, in Council Bluffs, Iowa, some of the townspeople had to row boats to their second-story windows! We saw houses floating down the Missouri River. The waters receded a little, but there was still no chance for us to get away.
I’m so discouraged I feel like giving up. But I can’t quit now. I want
to believe my granddaughter’s letter. She said we completed the trip!
I was really grateful to be on this trip with Whit. I admired his ability to make decisions. He writes good articles and isn’t afraid to get his hands dirty. Despite our age difference, he is my best friend.
Sunday August 30
Whit’s diary
Remained at Omaha.
Ran over to Council Bluffs with machine.