This caper has as many twists and turns as a goat trail and wouldn’t have ever happened except for a curious turn of events that made it all possible.
First was a late January thaw that got rid of most of the snow around Clear Creek and even raised dust at times with cars driving the Clear Creek road. That thaw was too much for Bee Lucke and C. L. Stuart. After all it had been October since they had been to their cabin of that time, which, was, by the way, the old house called the Yellow House at the Young Ranch. It had been Winfield Young’s yellow stucco house but since a catalog house had been built just up the road, Bee and C. L. were feeling lucky to get the use of the house for several years.
The house was right next to the main Clear Road so the two knew that they would not have an errant snow drift to drive though. They could drive right up to the door.
That was most important because Bee and C. L. had some furniture to haul to the cabin.
My great grandfather and grandmother decided to sell their farm up the Crystal Springs Road. Fred and Augusta Behrends had built a nice little house, planted a huge shelter belt and grew flowers and wheat all summer long without any water but for what the Good Lord gave. For those who wonder where the farm was, Mr. and Mrs. Pat Conway lived in it for years.
Anyway they decided to sell the farm and move to town. They found a nice apartment but not nearly all their furniture would fit in the apartment. So, that furniture was going to come out to Clear Creek to make cabin living much more comfortable.
There was a huge old dining room table with eight chairs. There were two desks that pulled down to make writing boards out of those desks.
There were two wing back leather chairs that had dog’s paws for arms and legs. They were unique to say the least. They were very short. I thought they must have been cut off at some time for Fred and Augusta Behrends were very short people.
But the piece of furniture that attracted the eyes of everyone was a very, very heavy brown leather chaise lounge where Grandpa Behrends took a nap every afternoon after dinner. Whether it was decided he would nap no more or he would nap in the bedroom, the magnificent chaise lounge was going to come to our cabin where I could see myself napping and sleeping the night through on springs that were so strong, there was no give to the lounge at all. What looked comfortable at a distance was horrible. It was your body that had to give, not the brown leather lounge.
The other twist to the February goat path was that some of Bee’s friends wanted him to cook them a boiled New England dinner. They were really hungry for Bee’s New England boiled dinner and had not had any since the summer before. Bee thought that an excellent idea since he was hungry for one of his boiled dinners too and a few extra hands would be perfect in carrying the furniture into the Yellow house.
It should be noted that Bee’s boiled dinner was not much different from corned beef and cabbage. The only thing was that Bee found a large ham to stick in the pot instead of the corned beef. He and his friends said it made all the difference. Other than the ham, the dinner was the same as corned beef and cabbage with carrots, potatoes, onions and plenty of cabbage. The idea was to get the mess to a boil, then let it simmer on the back of the old black Majestic Range for ten or twelve hours. The longer it simmered, the better it tasted. Serve it up with buns and butter and you had a real Clear Creek meal!
All that happened on a day in early February when the temperature was hovering at 45 above most of the day.
Bee had invited around ten people to the boiled dinner counting Grandpa Stuart and me. They were all going to show up because the roads were so clear.
So, it was necessary that Bee get a new pot to cook his famous boiled dinner for that many people. To that effort he had obtained from somewhere a huge aluminum Dutch oven that was around three feet high and had a bottom three feet wide. The inscription on the lid said U S ARMY. Below that was the date 1944. Bee was very mum about how he obtained that huge caldron. It took lots of small chunks of wood to keep that pot simmering for ten hours on
the back (and the front) of the old Majestic stove.
Right after breakfast Bee got the pot full of potatoes, carrots and a ham. The cabbage was to go in later. The dinner simmered for the day in mostly chicken stock.
Meanwhile the furniture came and several people hauled it into the Yellow House and arranged it in the living room. I tried to take two naps on the chaise lounge and the end of two tries could certainly see why Great grandmother and grandfather wanted to get rid of it. It was hard as a brickbat and didn’t go any way a person’s body went. Good to look at but I quickly claimed my old bed back.
Bee thought that the middle of the living room would be a perfect place for the dining room table. It came with eight chairs and Bee scrounged two more for the ten of us eating.
Finally the dinner was about ready. The guests drank Budweiser or Old Crow or some other libations of their choice. The cabbage was cooking in the brine.
Bee told all to gather at the table. He and C. L. brought the huge kettle of boiled dinner in and started to set it on the dining room table when the whole floor of the living room started to sway, gently at first, then more quickly. Then there was a large CRACK sound and most of us found ourselves in the basement of the Yellow House strangely enough still all sitting around the table. There was boiled dinner everywhere. It is a wonder someone didn’t get scalded but no one did. That floor just couldn’t hold all that furniture, those ten people and sixty pounds of boiled diner.
It was lucky no one was killed. No one was even hurt. Bee opined that now he would have a good spring job building a new floor in the Yellow House. Meanwhile we set up the table in the basement and ate what was left of the boiled dinner which was very good as I recall!
I don’t know what happened to all that furniture. It went from cabin to cabin until finally it was lost. However, I am writing these words on a lap top at one of the two writing desks that went through that February caper that neither Bee nor C. L. liked to talk about very much.
