Too Bee

So many people are suffering because of the floods. We’ve seen these catastrophes on the east coast, west coast, and gulf coast. Millions of people are trying to put their lives back together. I wanted to come up with a story or two that weren’t all gloom and doom and remembered two that are on the lighter side.

My hometown, Augusta, Kansas, was located between two rivers. We had the Walnut River on the east side, and the Whitewater on the west.

My folks had some snapshots that must have been taken between 1900 and 1920. They showed Walnut Street with floodwater partway up the wheels of the Model T’s and other cars parked at the curb. Sorry, but I have forgotten the date. This flood caused the city to want to build dikes at strategic places around town. As the planning for the construction took place, my grandpa, A.A. Thomas, attended every meeting. At every meeting, Grandpa was touting the planting of clover on the dikes for erosion control. Erosion control sounded pretty high-minded, but, in truth, Grandpa, in one of his sideline businesses, was a beekeeper. Planting the dikes with clover would have made life simple for the bees and more profitable for him. When I grew up many years later, I don’t remember seeing anything but grass on the dikes, so I guess Grandpa wasn’t successful.

More party than Work

It must have been between 1952 and 1954. Jack Watson and I had spent the first part of the evening dragging State Street and just hanging around. We stopped at the bakery for a coke and were reminded that the rains to the north were causing the rivers to rise and that they would be cresting within the next few hours. Townspeople were already sandbagging the access points of the dikes. We had good, solid dikes, but, of course, there were places for the highway, county roads, and the Frisco Railroad tracks to cut through. These entrances and egress points looked like V-shaped bites had been chomped out of the dikes. The dikes sloped upward at 45 degrees on either side of the opening.

Jack and I decided to join the sandbaggers. We were in Jack’s car which he parked on State Street, and we started hiking west on the railroad tracks to the dike that was a mile away. We got there and found 20-30 people busy working, so we pitched in immediately. Dump trucks had already left piles of sand, and there were big stacks of bags. We didn’t have plastic bags back then so these were burlap bags, more commonly known as gunnysacks. Some people were using scoop shovels to fill the bags. Others dragged them to the proper locations. Still others stacked them in the proper places. I think there were three ladies serving coffee.

There was a lot of laughing and joking and carrying on. It felt more like a party than the aversion of a disaster. I don’t remember how long it took, but the job got done, and we all left. Apparently, the other openings were well done also as the town wasn’t flooded. I guess the best word to describe the evening would be “inspiring.” A bunch of people worked together for the common good and had a great time doing so.

Dave Thomas

April 24, 2025

Hard to Believe

I’m having trouble swallowing this idea of tax cuts for billionaires. If they already have got 1 billion dollars, would 2 billion make their lives better?

I’m also having trouble with the trickle-down fairy tale.

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Go Figure

The most powerful nation the world has ever known, and it’s being destroyed by an old man who the demeanor of a child.

Dave Thomas

April 17, 2025

Gene was driving through the suburbs. He was in the right-hand lane and was going the posted speed limit. Impatient speedsters were lining up behind him. Some were making a risky attempt to get into the faster moving left-hand lane. A traffic light turned red, and Gene stopped along with a truck in the left lane. The passenger in the truck leaned out his window and says to Gene, “How come you were going so slow?” Gene replies, “I didn’t know that speed limit sign was just a suggestion, or I might have gone a little faster!”

Help Wanted

I may have shown you this story before. It’s one of my favorites, so I’m running it again. I think it’s funny, and I hope you do, too.

We lived in Keller, Texas, a small town on the north side of Fort Worth. My friend, Gene Maness, also retired, was going to have to work that day. He owned a rental unit in the center of Fort Worth, and he was going to re-tile the bathroom floor there. He dreaded the job because he knew his bad knee would really be hurting by the end of the day.

Gene loaded the materials in the back of his small pick-up, and headed for I-35. Not being one to enjoy freeway driving alongside all the morning commuters, he soon cut over to Main Street. Going through Old Fort Worth, he passed Billy Bob’s and the Stockyards and soon crossed the Trinity River and headed up the hill to the business district. It was a nice, warm day, and he had his windows down as he drove through town. Coming to a red light, he was the first one at the intersection, and he noticed a young woman standing on the curb as he drove up and stopped. The young woman bent down and peered in his window and smiled. “Is there anything  I can do for you?” she asked. Gene stared at here for a moment and then asked, “Can you lay tile?”

Dave Thomas

April 10, 2025