“Just like with women, Ander. Every day, tell them they are beautiful. Watch.” Lordor walked over to a big red cow grazing in the meadow. “Ah, there is my beautiful Sally. Ah, you are looking so pretty today, my love.” The cow raised her head up, batted her eyes, and followed Lordor right into the barn, swishing her tail as she went. No question. Lordor had a way with cows.
Ander never forgot it. When he took over the dairy, he’d instructed all his workers to name every cow and tell her she was beautiful daily. Even when they had to switch to milking machines, Ander invested in top-of-the-line machines and the most comfortable ones for the cows. He also instructed the workers to stay and talk to the cows while they were being milked. It must have worked, because the dairy’s production numbers kept going up.
In 1950, when Ander had a professional logo designed for all the products, it was a colorful portrait of a pretty red cow with long, curly eyelashes wearing a Swedish lace hat. Underneath the picture was a quote:
SALLY THE SWEDISH COW SAYS, “YA, IT TASTES JUST LIKE FROM THE OLD COUNTRY.”
(Only the finest milk and cheese products provided directly to you, courtesy of the happy cows in Elmwood Springs, Missouri.)
1952
Robert Smith, the pharmacist at the drugstore, had a young son named Bobby. And Bobby, along with all the other kids in town it seemed, had a sweet tooth, so anytime he had a nickel, he would run into the bakery and get two doughnuts, one maple and one chocolate-covered with sprinkles.
The bakery was now completely back to normal, but at home, Gerta Nordstrom still had not moved Gene’s things out of his room. One night that summer, when they were sitting out on the porch after dinner, Ted said, “You know, little Bobby Smith was in again this afternoon. He sure is a cute kid.”
“Oh, he is. He reminds me of Gene at that age.”
“Yeah…anyhow…I got to thinking that he might just get some good use out of Gene’s old baseball glove, and maybe the basketball. They’re just going to waste, sitting in his closet like that.” Tears sprang to Gerta’s eyes at the thought of parting with any of Gene’s things. But her husband reached over and took her hand and said, “It’s time, honey…and I think that’s what Gene would have wanted.”
She nodded. “All right…if that’s what you think.”
“I do.”
—
THE NEXT MORNING, ON his way to work, Ted walked over to the Smith house with a big cardboard box. When Dorothy Smith came to the door, he said, “I’m leaving a few things I thought Bobby might get some use out of.”
Dorothy opened the screen door and called out, “Oh, thank you, Ted. I know he will.”
When Bobby saw the box, he was thrilled. He grabbed the metal toy car first. “Wow! Look at this,” he said to his mother. “It has real rubber wheels!”
—
ANOTHER SUMMER ROLLED AROUND, and up at Still Meadows the smell of freshly mowed grass was so pleasant; as Gene Nordstrom noted, “It’s especially pleasant when you aren’t the one having to mow it.” Everybody everywhere, above and below, loved summer. Out on the hill, the clouds were so pretty. They looked like big balls of white cotton floating by.
During these beautiful warm days, Beatrice would often take little Hanna Marie out to the farm to visit with Elner. Elner kept big, fat chickens in her yard that she spoiled by feeding cornbread and milk, so she always had lots of baby chicks on hand for Hanna Marie to see.
Today, when Beatrice and Elner were sitting out on her big screened-in back porch watching Hanna Marie laughing and playing in the yard, Beatrice said, “Oh, Elner, she just breaks my heart. She’s so happy out here with you, but when we take her to the park, she tries so hard to talk to the other children, but she can’t. After a while, they just move away from her, and she doesn’t understand, and I can’t even explain to her why.”
January 1953
Dwight D. Eisenhower had just been sworn in as the new president of the United States, and former president Harry S. Truman, and his wife, Bess, were on a train from Washington, D.C., headed back home to Missouri.
Several days later, a group of Elmwood Springs ladies drove up to Independence and were among the fifteen hundred cheering people who stood outside the Truman family home at 219 North Delaware Street to welcome them back.
Although Ida was a Republican and had voted for Thomas E. Dewey, she joined them. She had not appreciated the way people in Washington had called Truman a country bumpkin and made fun of his blunt Missouri accent. “They are the ones with the accents,” she said.
As she was standing there in the crowd, waiting for the Trumans to return, Ida thought to herself: “Thank God it’s January and Elner is wearing her long winter coat. There’s no telling what she is wearing underneath. But she has on that old ratty black hat. Now she wears a hat!” Norma’s wedding had been a formal afternoon affair, and Elner had been the only lady there without a hat. “Elner never did understand occasion,” thought Ida. She often wondered whether blood really was thicker than water…or if maybe she had been adopted.
With her fox furs and new alligator purse, snakeskin shoes, and long brown leather gloves, Ida was adorned from top to bottom with the remnants of a number of dead animals, and she felt swell and elegant. Ida, a slave to fashion, would have draped a kangaroo over her shoulders if she had seen it in Glamour or Harper’s Bazaar magazine. Beatrice, on the other hand, who could afford anything she wanted, remained conservative in her dress, in a neat black suit with a white satin collar and had, unlike Ida, let her hair go gray around the temples.
Finally, the long wait was over, and the Trumans arrived. They walked through the cheering crowd up to their front porch and stood there and waved to everyone. Bess Truman shielded her eyes from the flashes going off and squinted over toward the group from Elmwood Springs, then called out, “Is that Elner Shimfissle I see over there?”
Elner called back, “Hi, Bess! Welcome home!”
Bess punched Harry in the ribs. “Look, Harry, it’s Elner Shimfissle.”
He looked over and saw her and smiled. “Hey, Elner, good to see you.”
“You, too, Harry!” yelled Elner. “Welcome back to Missouri!”
Ida was dumbstruck and turned and stared at Elner like she had never seen her before in her life. Finally, when she could speak, she asked, “How do you know Harry and Bess Truman?”
Elner, still waving her white handkerchief in the air, said, “Oh…they stopped by the farm once.”
“Why? Why would they stop at your farm?”
Elner looked at her and said, “Well, why wouldn’t they?”
—
WHEN THEY GOT BACK into the car, Ida turned to Elner, somewhat irritated. “Elner, why didn’t you ever tell me you knew the Trumans?”
Elner shrugged her shoulders and said, “You never asked.”