I lived in Fort Dodge, IA from 1954 grade to my HS graduation in 1964. Gary lived here from 1956 to his HS graduation also in 1964. His parents were born around here along with their numerous siblings, my brother still lives in town and my parents lived here from 1954 until around 2000. Obviously, we know a lot of people or lots of people know our families. Today was a perfect example of this.
We are up here for the week since we still have lots to do around Lug’s home before we begin to empty it. Firstly, we still had parts of the garage to do and yesterday we finished that up. I don’t mind working in the garage but my toes and my fingers got cold. Every now and then we’d take a warm-up break: come in, have a quick cup of coffee and then attach the garage again. Gary also wants to ‘reduce the size’ of several items: a large 15’ counter from a restaurant that closed long ago, an old-as-dirt metal desk, a heavy black bookcase and a fiberglass fireplace his parents had in the basement and an organ in the living room. By ‘reduce the size of’ we mean that he is going to take them apart so they will fit easily into a dumpster.
However, today, an errand day, we began with breakfast out at Nettie’s, a newer restaurant in town. Then we began our errands and at every stop we either met someone who knew our families or us..
First to the hospital to get some paperwork from the doctor who had worked with Lug when he was in the hospital. There we saw a woman who had worked at Friendship Haven, a local nursing home, with my mother on 2nd floor when my mother was there.
Our next errand was to Peterson’s which rents out dumpsters of all sizes. We saw this one, a 10 yard dumpster but knew it was too small. We went into the office where we met Shirley who knew my father-in-law and one of his brothers, Paul, who wrestled for Fort Dodge. She also knew my father because her business was about a mile from my father’s lumber yard and she used to buy lumber from him for her business.
Then we hit the lawyer’s office to get copies of Gary’s executor paperwork and, on the ride down in the elevator, the other man in the elevator with us said to me: ‘aren’t you the one I was speaking with at the recycling place yesterday?’ Sure enough, he and I were both recycling yesterday and were talking about emptying homes owned by Depression-era parents. I thought that Lug had saved everything he had ever owned but this guy’s father had even saved 17 toilet covers. That’s a dubious record and I’m glad that Lug didn’t try to do that. This guy, my new BFF, also lives in Knollcrest, a development that my father started on the NW side of Fort Dodge. And, yes, he had heard of my father.
Then we went to the bank to open a checking account in the name of the estate where the banker lives 2 doors down from Lug. She even told stories of meeting him.
While we were in the bank, I looked over and thought that the woman in the office next to ours was an old friend of my parents, Mrs. Lindberg. When she turned her head, I knew it was her but then she looked at me and caught me staring at her. Oops, I said ‘hi’, waved and turned away trying to look innocent. She turned to younger man who was sitting next to her, whispered something and he rose and walked over to talk with us. Or rather with Gary, leaving me out. I then, having been caught, went over to introduce myself and we had a nice chat. She indeed did remember me and even remembered that I had written a nice thank-you note for her gift of a memorial for my father’s funeral. She thought it was really personal and that is why she remembered it.
It’s sure a small town. That’s part of the charm of a small town: you’re never anonymous, you always belong to someone and it’s part of the game to try to determine your pedigree and relationship to the person with whom you’re talking. It’s like playing ‘6 Degrees of Kevin Bacon.’
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