The single girl walked into the office and began handing out cigars and candy, each wrapped with blue ribbons.
One of the other workers looked at her with surprise and confusion. "What's the occasion?" he asked.
Proudly she displayed a diamond on her ring finger and announced.
"It's a boy — 6 feet tall and 185 pounds."
A show of patriotism
Legionnaires of Adam Schellinger Post No. 8 gave a dramatic show of patriotism when they "intercepted" traffic at the intersections of U.S. 73-75 and No. 2.
The veterans did it for one reason — to point out to motorists and hopefully many were out-of-towners, that the Fourth of July was a day of freedom and a day to remember.
The brochures handed out to the nearly 500 motorists gave that message and wished the travelers a safe journey.
In case you didn't pass the intersection in the hour the Legionnaires were there, the men were Harold Bliss, Mike Miller, John Ashbaugh, George Golden, Jr., Commander Foy Thayer, Bill Wheeler, Bill Berger (the instigator), and Rich Dovey.
Four of the men stood in the intersection displaying the American and Legion flags, two others were armed with WWII rifles and at the four crossroads, four Legionnaires "intercepted" cars at the traffic lights.
It was a good show of patriotism and a compliment to Post No. 8.
Officer Mel Kopf appeared on a report of a traffic problem at the intersection, but after watching the Legionnaires for a few moments he said they were not bothering traffic and let them continue. "Actually, that's a good idea on the Fourth of July," he said.
The kiddie parade.
One of the newest and most successful suggestions to be implemented this year was the kiddie parade, engineered by Mrs. Willard White.
The 132 entrants in the parade indicated the interest so you'll probably be seeing the event often. It was a simple show of patriotism with a Bicentennial ring by children.
We think perhaps the biggest fans were the parents and grandparents along the streets admiring the youngsters. The parade added much to the long weekend of celebrating.
Mr. and Mrs. Allen Holmes.
Our friends, Mr. and Mrs. Allen Holmes, have moved to new quarters in Des Moines.
Mr. Holmes writes that he and Bess have moved from their apartment into Crestview Acres, Apartment 126, 916 Ashworth Road, Des Moines, 50265. "We're free from normal housekeeping chores as planning and preparing meals, washing dishes, etc. Our apartment is minus a kitchen and replaced with a bright and beautiful dining room. After all these years we feel entitled to a little uptown living."
Mr. Holmes was a member of Nebraska City's famous Company B that bivouacked on the courthouse grounds, marched east on Central and boarded trains to fight during WWI. Mr. Holmes makes frequent trips to Nebraska City to look up "old soljers."
Midway
The film "Midway" now showing in Omaha is a good story about a WWII battle that half the people in this country never heard of or weren't old enough to remember.
Henry Fonda is Admiral Nimitz and Robert Mitchum is Admiral "Bull" Halsey. It's a story about a great Navy — air battle that took place when the U.S. Navy was crippled and sick after Pearl Harbor.
It's bloody and loaded with language shared by GIs. It's truthful and much of that is revealed in actual films of the battles. It makes flag wavers like Sam Kellogg, Jr., and me proud of our military service and our American heritage regardless of cost.
We felt so good we shared our popcorn with our wives . . . who sat in the row in front of us.
Va-r-o-o-m . . . Va-r-o-o-m.
"Millie, where's a needle and some heavy thread?"
"If you've torn those good trousers, Ivan, you won't get fried chicken unless you go to Colonel Sanders," the Queen Bee snorted.
"Hush, domestic engineer, I just want a needle and some heavy thread to sew on Keaton's pup tent."
"What . . . are you doing with your son's tent?" she inquired in sort of a snoopy way.
"The tie-downs on the tent have been torn away and I want to repair them so the tent will lie flat and give me some comfort."
"Whatever are you talking about . . . since when have you given up color TV and air conditioning?"
"The trip, mother . . . the trip . . . I need the tent for the motorcycle trip."
"Oh, yes that," she said.
"Whattya mean 'that'?" I asked. "This is a trip of men and machines. Roger Warren said there will be 12 men on the trip to Tuttle Creek and we're to take along a sleeping bag and swim trunks . . . I just thought the tent would add some comfort."
We had talked about the trip before. The group went to Indian Cave last summer and I fished out because I didn't want to get caught off pavement on a rocked road and end up in a rainstorm in mud (Indian Cave is paved, the riders reported later).
This year the men talked of the lake north of Manhattan, Kansas. I asked Fred Stoll about it.
"Might be fun," he said, "It's a good ride down there, won't tire a person too much and won't take but a few hours to get there."
"Have you got a tent?" I asked.
Fred shut off the ignition of his 900 cc BMW, took off his helmet and said, "A tent? What for?"
"To sleep in."
"I took one vow when I got out of the service and that was never to sleep on the ground again," he answered.
"Looks like the easy riders from Nebraska City just lost a trouper on an overnight trip," I said to Wirth Davis. "Wonder what he does with his motorcycle at night while on trips?"
"The motel," Wirth explained, "he'll put it in the motel room with him."
Any-hoo, back to the conversation about the tent (NOTE TO HAROLD HOPP, Cook . . . gotcha note and check. Thanks but please don't call this "crazy stuff." This is serious ummmmmm . . . serious.)
"Well," she snorted, "are you going?"
"Dunno," I answered. "Sure would like to make the trip . . . think the easy riders from river rat country could have a fine time."
"What would a dozen men do at the lake?"
"Well, uh, we wouldn't have to get up in the morning until we were good and ready . . . and we wouldn't have to shave for 2 or 3 days . . . and we could go fishing . . . or boating . . . maybe even swimming."
"How long will the group be gone?" she asked.
"They'll leave Friday night (after supper, of course) and come back Sunday."
"And you're not going to 'clean up' while on the trip?"
"Well, mercy sakes, no," I answered, "the easy riders from River Rat country don't need to look purty and besides the clothing will get 'aired out' while we're on the bikes."
"I don't believe any of this," saith the Queen Bee, "but you just as well go and make it an even dozen."
"That's what Roger Warren said . . . if I go we'll have an even dozen and machines."
"And I've got a name for your group on your return," she said.
"Well, now Queenie," I said, "that's mighty thoughtful of you . . . care to tip me on your suggestion?"
"The Dirty Dozen," she said.