A special thank you to all those who have participated in our “I Remember Rippey” series. Your remembrances have allowed readers to share in our town’s history, activities, sports, school, church, and daily life covering 150 years.
We will continue posting online here, using “I Remember Rippey” remembrances received prior to April 30, 2020. If you would like to read more Rippey history, you may also click on the History tab of the Rippey Library website: https://www.rippey.lib.ia.us .
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The Bench by Marna Rittgers Parker
During my early years, I lived with my sister and parents in what we called the Hagerman House. It’s still there on the main street of Rippey. The brick two-story house at the end of the street – three stories if you count the attic! Next door was the Home Cafe, the restaurant and pool hall my dad Wesley operated with the help of my mother Mae. There was a long wooden bench outside the building that became the favorite spot for the town’s older gentlemen to gather, visit, exchange stories, and gossip. Some of these fellows I still remember.
Chester A. Stroud, known to everyone as “Chet,” was a World War I Navy veteran. He always wore “bibby” overalls. Chet liked to whittle while sitting on that bench. I can remember watching him as he crafted different things from sticks of wood. If I brought him “just the right stick,” he would whittle something for me. I can still see his well-worn hands with that little pocket knife he used. How I wish that now I’m a lot older I could visit with him and ask questions about his experiences in the war and afterwards. But since I was so young and stupid, I didn’t think about that. Just wanted to see what Chet would make for me out of “just the right stick.”
Another one of the regulars on the bench was Harold “Sparry” McCain. He lived on a piece of property on the other side of the railroad tracks. He had chickens, milk cows, and did some farming. Sparry walked with a noticeable limp. The best thing I remember about Mr. McCain – he had a team of horses! I loved horses and always wanted one of my very own. That dream came true when I married John Parker. His father Jack gave to me my very own horse. Mr. McCain loved to show his team. He would hitch them up to a small wagon and drive them uptown. I was in heaven! He would even let me pet them. I remember one day I was playing outside. There was an alley that ran behind the Hagerman House. I heard a commotion – the rattling of snaps and chains. And there in the alley was Mr. McCain and his team. He had stopped and waited for me to get through the fence and to the alley so I could see the horses up close and personal. Oh wow! How special was that! Sparry was a gentle and kind man, and you could tell he loved those two horses.
Occasionally a gentleman by the name of Axel Berglund would make it to the bench. With brain power assistance from the Bardole sisters, Nancy Hannaman and Sharon McBlain, I was able to fill in the blank spots of my memory about Axel. Mr. Berglund had been the station master at the Rippey train depot. That’s when trains actually stopped in Rippey! He had a physical disability, so he walked with a cane. It would take him awhile, but he would eventually make it to the bench. He wouldn’t stay long because it was going to take him a good while to make it back home. As a young girl walking home from school, I would see Axel many times standing in front of his house in the afternoons. I would always greet him; he would smile and wave. I think he waited for the school kids to walk by his house just so he could see us. I don’t know much about him other than what Nancy and Sharon told me, but I do remember that very nice and gentle man waiting on the sidewalk in front his house for the children to walk by in the afternoons.
Other bench sitters were Ralph Johnson and Ernie Clapp. The story goes that Ernie was a farrier and while shoeing a horse got kicked in the back of his head. As a result he had a very large lump that formed. He lived with this the rest of his life. I always wondered what medical science could have done for him. I’m guessing the Ernie never even bothered going to see a doctor.
The bench sitters. I’ve forgotten many of them. Wouldn’t it be wonderful if in these days of technology, we would take the time to sit on a bench with our fellow man to visit, exchange information, and just be with one another?