Jack and Gene’s Great Adventure

By Gene R. Behler

(June 14, 2007)

I’m not sure when I first became aware of Jack Lindstrom.  I know we went to Central School at the same time and went to junior high school together in the old high school building.  So we must have known each other at least 60 years. 

We never played together as children although we only lived a few blocks apart on the west side of town. Jack lived on West Exchange Street across from my grandparents, Arthur and Grace Ayers.  I lived on Mason Court across from Kathy Leinauer and down the street from Dorothy Hodge and the Trapp family. 

We became close friends as a result of working together for the DeKalb Ag as teenagers.  It must have been around our freshman year.  When the detassling work ended, the Ag needed a couple of people to work on its large farm north of Waterman.  Jack, who was nine months older than me, had a driver’s license and a car so he was one of the few people who could accept such a job.  Somehow we got hooked up and that was the beginning of a friendship that is still going strong today. 

(As an aside, until July 1, 1953 in Illinois, a person could obtain a driver’s license at age 15.  On July 1, 1953 the age was changed to 16.  Dave Drenckpohl, Mongie Carlson, and I all turned 15 before July 1, 1953 and we got our licenses before the age changed.  Despite that, we still had to take driver’s education in the fall of 1953.  We took it together.  Vern Drenckpohl was the instructor.  You can image the fun we had with that.  We just cruised around town, taking turns driving,  all the while talking and laughing. )

Working for DeKalb Ag.

Working for the Ag was good.  Much of it was hard, physical work.  But it provided an important learning experience although we certainly didn’t think of it in those terms at the time.  We were expected to be on time in the morning, work hard, do our jobs well, listen when given instructions and take breaks and quit only when the boss said so.  No one has a work ethic stronger than the American farmer does. 

The Ag had (and probably still does have) 2000 acres north of Waterman.  It is some of the richest farmland in the world with 3-4 feet of loam.  When freshly plowed, it looks like someone poured dirty crankcase oil all over it.  It is located on McGirr Road.  Maps show that there is a town there--the town of McGirr.  Jack and I often ate our sack lunches in McGirr.  The town consisted of a grain elevator and a small store where you could buy candy and pop.  I was surprised to learn that Elsie Wavelet Voltz lives on McGirr Road.  She, Jack, and I are probably the only people from Sycamore who know where McGirr is.

Throughout high school, Jack and I were close friends.  Each summer we spent many weekends at Lake Delavan, WI where Jack’s aunt and uncle, Edith and Russell Johnson, owned a cottage.  Edith and Russell raised Jack.  It was a great time to be growing up and Delavan was a great place for young men and woman to meet.  We had a number of romances and adventures.

 Jack enlists in the Air Force

In August 1956, following high school graduation, Jack enlisted in the Air Force. Somehow he found a way to elude the eye test. As most people know, Jack lost an eye to an air rifle as a child.   Meanwhile, I went to college for two years and then just sort of wandered about aimlessly for a couple more years.  I remained close to Jack’s aunt and uncle and spent most of one summer helping Russell build a house next to their cottage.  Russell has since passed away but Edith continues to live in the house Russell built with my help.

After four years in the Air Force, Jack came back to Sycamore with a wife.  He met Chris in Montana.  Chris and I became friends right away.  She was full of energy, didn’t hesitate to speak her mind, and loved a good time.  People enjoyed being around Chris Lindstrom.  Jack got a job working for Sycamore Wholesale. 

A month later, in September 1960, I left for what I thought would be three years in the US Army.  My plan was spend three years in the Army, get the GI Bill, and then return to finish college.  Thirty-three years later, I retired from the Army.  I had completed my undergraduate work at Northern Illinois University, got a master’s degree at Ball State, Muncie, IN,  and had started work on a doctorate, all while in the Army. 

Despite our geographical separation, Jack, I, and our families kept in touch.  I had married Jackie Rice.  Jackie  and Chris Lindstrom became good friends.   

We always saw the Lindstroms when we were home.  Of course, when we were overseas, contact was limited to Christmas cards.  It cost $10 for three-minute telephone conversations so they were pretty much out of the question. They visited us when we lived in the Washington, DC area and when we lived in Sparta, WI.
     

The children are born.

Jack and Chris had their daughter Kelly in 1961 while our son Christopher was born a few months later in 1962.

Then in 1962, Jack and Chris had twin boys, John and James, that were born prematurely.  Unfortunately, James only survived a few days.

At the time, the Lindstroms could not afford the expense of a funeral.  Jack and his grandfather, Albert Lindstrom, dug the grave by hand and buried James.  Can you imagine the sight of a grieving father and his 70-plus year old grandfather digging a grave in the dead of winter?  How difficult it must have been for all concerned. 

Fortunately, there were better days ahead for the Lindstroms.  Jack got a much better job with Duplex Products, Chris worked at Brown‘s Store, and the Lindstroms prospered. 

The last of the Lindstrom children, a boy named Cory, was born in 1964.

Is that Senator Kennedy?

In the mid 70s, the Lindstroms came to visit us in Bowie (pronounced Boo-ee), MD.  Bowie is just a few miles outside of Washington, DC.  We took them to see the sights.  One of the things they had hoped for was to see Senator Ted Kennedy.  On a Sunday morning, I was driving with all of the Lindstroms and my children in the car when we happened upon Senator Kennedy.  We were going around the Capitol Building.  Senator Kennedy was standing on a corner speaking with someone.  He was so close that you could have almost reached out and touched him.  I went very slowly around the corner so they could get a good look at him.  Afterwards I said, “I’ll bet you got some great pictures of him.”  In the excitement and surprise of seeing the Senator, no one thought to take a picture. Talk about mixed emotions--they were elated to see him but disappointed they didn‘t get any pictures.

Fast forward to 1993.  Jackie and I are living in Indianapolis and I am retiring from the Army that summer   Jack was divorced from Chris many years earlier and had moved to Rockford; he had married and divorced a young woman named Rae; and was getting ready to marry a very attractive blond named Cheryl.  Because of Jack’s martial changes and my family’s frequent moves, our get-togethers were infrequent although we did keep in touch. 

Jack marries Cheryl.

Jack married Cheryl on August 14, 1993.  I remember it well because 1993 was the year of the great Mississippi floods.  My aunt Helen Ayers died in August in Waterloo, IA.  On my way home from the funeral, I went to Jack and Cheryl’s wedding on August 14, at the Moose Club in Rockford.  All of his children were there and it was great to see them again and their children. 

With me out of the Army and our children grown and gone, Jack and I had an opportunity to renew our friendship.  Jack and Cheryl usually visited us in Indianapolis once a year and I usually visited them at their vacation home on a lake in Milton, WI.   Occasionally, Jackie would go with me.  We really like Cheryl even though she always wins at cards or other games we play. However, Jackie told me when I retired from the Army that I made her move 20-plus times during my career and she didn’t plan to leave Indianapolis except to see her mother in DeKalb.  When we moved her mother, Olive Rice, to Indianapolis, she said she wasn’t leaving Indianapolis again unless I took her on a cruise to Alaska.

With the advent of the internet, Jack and I began almost daily email “conversations”.   When I told Jack that I always dreamed of making a trip west to the Little Big Horn and Yellowstone National Park and that I couldn‘t go because Jackie wouldn‘t go, he said he would go.  Jack said he hadn’t been to Minnesota to see Cory and his family or to South Dakota to see Kelly and her husband Ray for sometime.  He suggested we stop to see them enroute west.

.

That was the genus of our adventure. 

Our Great Adventure.

In September 2003 we began our trip.  First we drove to Hanley Falls in western Minnesota where Cory, his wife Sue, and their five children live.  We spent a very enjoyable couple of days with Cory and his family. 

Chris Lindstrom lived nearby.  She had moved to Minnesota after her divorce to be near her family and work in the family school bus business.  When she heard Jack and I would be in the area she asked if we could stop by to see her. 

Chris lived in a brand new brick ranch that she had decorated herself.  The house was beautifully done in soft earth tones.  Unfortunately, Chris was dying from cancer and everyone knew it. It was difficult seeing her given those circumstances.  At the same time, I was glad to have the opportunity to see her one last time.  As usual, she was warm and friendly, always ready to laugh and as outspoken as ever. But she seemed to tire quickly.  It was hard to say goodbye.  This time goodbye was forever. She died about ten months (June 13, 2004) after our visit. 

It must have been difficult for Jack too.  He, Cory, his wife Sue, and Kelly were with me when I visited Chris.  Jack didn’t say much at the time and nothing afterwards.  Despite the problems that caused their marriage to end, she still was the mother of his children and a genuinely good person.  I know he had great compassion for her but had no good way to express it.   

After that, Jack and I went to Kelly and Ray Derby’s house just across the Minnesota line in South Dakota.  It was an especially enjoyable part of our trip which was totally unexpected.  That Ray and Kelly were a wonderful host and hostess came as no surprise.  What was a surprise is what they took us to see while we were in the area.

Before I continue, you need to know that Ray is half Dakota (not Lakota) Sioux Indian.  His mother was a white woman and his father was a full blooded Dakota Sioux.

Pipestone National Monument

Ray’s father retired after 35 years of service in the National Park Service and ran a small museum in Pipestone, MN dedicated to the Dakota Sioux.  He ran a special tour for Jack and I.  Then we went to a little known but very interesting national park--Pipestone National Monument.

For centuries, American Indians have quarried pipestone at this site which is considered sacred by many American Indians.  It is a very difficult and time consuming process done only by hand in a traditional way.  They carve the soft stone into sacred pipes. At the monument’s cultural center artisans demonstrate pipe carving and pipes can be purchased.  I have a chunk of the pipestone from the site which I treasure.  It was a wonderful experience for me.  I have been an avid reader of American Indian history and lore for years.  Jack enjoyed it too. 

From there we drove through the badlands into the Black Hills to Mt Rushmore and Crazy Horse monument. We spent the night in Deadwood, SD.  Deadwood is a beautiful little city nestled in a valley in the Black Hills .  Motel rates were very reasonable--something like $30 or $35 a night.  We soon learned  why they were so inexpensive.  There are some 30 casinos in Deadwood many of which are located in motels to include the one where we stayed. (Jack and I always shared motel rooms. I suspect many thought we were two old gays traveling together.)   

While in Deadwood, we visited Wild Bill Hickok’s grave site.  A large bust of Bill’s head adorns the site.  It must be the Hollywood version because it makes him out to be a very handsome fellow.  Calamity Jane is buried closed by. 

From there it was on to the Little Big Horn.  There is a cemetery and monument on the hill where General Custer and many of his men died.  The view from that hill is terrific.  It was not hard to image how the battle transpired that fateful day of June 25, 1876.  I could feel the presence of those soldiers that perished there.  I had exactly the same feeling at Gettysburg. 

A couple days later we entered Yellowstone National Park just as the sun was coming up.  If there is a more interesting place in the world, I don’t know where it is.  I hope to live long enough to go back.  Besides its spectacular, seemingly endless wonders, it was a beautiful day in October.  The aspen trees were yellow and covered many of the mountains. 

Heading south from Yellowstone we went through the magnificent Grand Teton mountains, saw the historic Snake River, and spent a little time in Jackson Hole, WY. 

Then we went home.  Our adventure was over.

50^th Reunion Committee

At Joe Peplow’s suggestion, I became involved with the Class of 1956’s Fiftieth Reunion Committee.  I had an idea of how we could honor our 13 departed members.  Joe liked my idea and suggested that I join the committee.

Starting in September 2004, I made the trip from Indianapolis to DeKalb about every three months to work on the 50^th Reunion. It was fun getting to know again Alta Kuntz Hough, Barbara Ouimet Parsons, Ethel Jolly Bush, Jacqie Mabel Vancil, Bill and Arliss Buzzell Fraedrich,  Joe, and of course, Jack , all of which  were on the  committee. They are great people and it was an enjoyable time. 

Usually, I made a two or three day trip out of it.  Often Jack and I would spend a day together just talking or playing golf.  Jack and I were co-chairman of the Program Committee and we put considerable effort getting the program ready. 

Jack came up with the idea of the class website.  I was originally opposed to the idea.  But Jack wanted to do it so I went along with him and prepared many of the written materials used on the site.  The class website has turned out to be terrific site--there is none better.  We‘ve had well over 5,000 hits as this is being written (June 2007).   Jack have devoted hundreds of hours to the website and continues to work on it each week.

While I started to write this about our trip west, it changed as I wrote it into a story of two men who have enjoyed friendship since they were boys, evolved as they married and had families, and matured as they entered the winter of their years. 

The Real Adventure

I have the deepest respect and admiration for Jack Lindstrom. I treasure our friendship and I consider myself lucky to have enjoyed his friendship these many years.  Jack is honest and forthright in all matters. If you ask for his opinion, expect an honest, no holds barred answer. He is a person you can always count on and who always tries to do the right thing.  At the same time, he doesn’t hesitate to laugh at himself. 

Jack and I are always comfortable being together--maybe that’s what being good friends is all about. 

Jack and Gene’s Great Adventure was never about a trip west--it was about a lifetime of friendship, our great adventure.