Memories of a Two-Year-Old

I was barely two years old, and we had just moved from the tiny trailer on Grandpa and Grandma's farm to a house on a rented farm, ten miles closer to Bloomfield.  Farming in northeastern Nebraska in the late fifties was very different from farming today.  In fact, farms then were much like the farms still pictured in popular children's books.  Farmers never "put all their eggs in one basket."  Instead, my dad, like all farmers in that time and place, grew dry-land corn, milked a few cows, kept a couple of horses, raised pigs and chickens and even one lonely bottle lamb named Lola, who was officially my pet.  We had a dog and several barn cats, but none of them were allowed in the house.  Besides the house, the farmstead had two barns, a chicken coop, a storm cellar, a grove (or shelter belt) of trees, including several fruit trees, an old dump, and of course, an outhouse.  And that was the problem--the house had no indoor plumbing.

My dad was raised in a house without electricity, but it did have a functional bathroom.  My mom was a town girl who was used to having both electricity and plumbing.  Since my brother's birth was fast approaching, and toilet training me was also an issue, I'm sure that indoor plumbing was a high priority for both of them.  We had a kitchen with no sink or running water, and no bathroom at all.  Before our bathroom was installed, I remember using the slop pot (stored under the kitchen sink) when it was rainy or dark outside.  I used the outhouse regularly during the day, whenever the weather was warm, for as long as we lived there.  However, I always kept the outhouse door cracked open when I was inside, and I always took my imaginary friend, Hoopie, with me, for added security!

My first clear memory, at the age of two, is when I stood at the window inside the house, watching several men use some big machinery to dig a huge, dark hole next to the house.  Then, I remember them carefully lowering a big tank down into the hole, and covering it with dirt. The whole process seemed to take a very long time, although I imagine that it was accomplished within a few hours.  I don't know if I understood the purpose of the septic tank.  Can you imagine trying to explain a septic tank to a two-year-old? 

The farmhouse didn't have much available space, so the small pantry, just off the kitchen, was converted into the bathroom.  It had room for a toilet and a shower, but no sink or bathtub.  I remember sitting on a cold, metal stool in the shower--brrr!  Even after the bathroom was usable, Mom would sometimes set a large, metal washtub on the kitchen floor and fill it up with warm water so that she and I could have a real bath.

I remember that my grandpa worked in the kitchen that summer, installing new counters, a sink, and faucets.  I remember that Uncle Gary helped my dad build a new house yard fence so I could play outside safely.  I remember playing with the kittens in the barn while Mom and Dad milked the cows.  But my next significant memory, after the septic tank, was on the occasion of my brother's birth in late August. 

It was a beautiful, hot, sunny day.  I must have spent a good part of the day with one of my grandmas.  But that evening, as it was getting dark outside, I got to visit Mom in the hospital in Creighton.  At that time, children were never allowed to actually visit people in their hospital rooms, so Dad took me outside to the window of Mom's room. We talked through the open window for a few minutes, and someone held up the baby for me to see.  Then, Dad took me inside to a poorly lit waiting room, where he told me to sit in a chair until he came back.  My Aunt Marilyn, age six, was supposed to sit with me and be a good example.  However, Marilyn had a hard time sitting still, so she was up and down and all over the waiting room, while I sat timidly in my chair.  After what seemed like an eternity, Dad came back to get me, and Grandma and Grandpa came for Marilyn, who was scolded soundly for not staying put, while I was held up as the good example. Please note that I felt safe sitting still while I was carefully watching everything that happened in that strange, dark place called a hospital, knowing that Mom was holding a new baby brother away off in some forbidden room.

So, my brother has the honor of holding second place in my memory, after the septic tank.  In the whole scheme of things, though, both indoor plumbing and my brother, Dan, have been tremendous blessings that I would never want to do without.

(And, Dan, I really do love you more than I love my bathroom!)