Back in the nineteen-teens, before Dad was born, Grandpa was driving his cows from the pasture to the barn for milking. Because his pasture was across the road from the barn, he had to cross the dirt road at the front of his property several times. He unlatched the door on the barn side of the road first and opened the gate. Then he went to the other side of the road where the cows were that gate. He then herded the cows across the road. When the cows were back across the road and in the cows in the barn pasture, he latched that gate and went across the road and re-latched that gate. On his way back across the road to go to the house, a huge roadster came barreling down the road. At this time, cars were still rare, and this particular car had huge wide running boards running down both sides.
Because the road was narrow and fences flanked both sides of the road, grandpa barely got out of the way of the massive vehicle. One of the running boards, however caught one of his pantlegs and dragged him several feet before the driver of the car was able to stop. Because Grandfather was on the passenger side of the vehicle, the man had to go around the car to the side where grandfather was. By the time the man got there, grandpa was already getting up and dusting off his pants.
The man was flustered, “Oh, I am so sorry. Are you hurt.”
Grandpa was a wiry little man. He shook his head. “No, I’m not hurt.”
“Can I take you anywhere,” the man asked.
Grandpa eyed him up and down and again shook his head. “No, I think I have gone far enough with you already!”
Dad used to tell us this story. He said that he wasn’t sure if it was real or not, but he’d heard it so many times growing up, that it may as well as have been true.
My family, particularly Dad’s side of the family were storytellers. I remember sitting at the dining room table listening to the adults talk. Although I had grown up with television, sometimes the stories they would tell were better than the shows I enjoyed watching.
Just like television, though, not every story they told was true. Supposedly, we were direct descendants of Leif Erickson. As an adult, I did the research and discovered that…