Preparing for a celebration

Jim Pluimer
Posted 7/31/03

Tractor Tales

Summer Lake Helligdags (Holidays):

January 1: Glittertinden

First Saturday after ice-out: Frosk Dag ( Frog Day)

July 4: Fyr Flykte (Flying Fire)

August 5: Jonsok (Midsummer's Day)

Last week in August: Putterkvast Fest (Puffed Potato Feast)

October Full Moon: Nøling Dag (Hesitation Day)

Fourth Thursday of November: Takkefest (Thanksgiving)

December 25: Christmas

These were the Summer Lake holidays, circa 1957. Of all these celebrations, the Fyr Flykte was the biggest, and it was only two days away.

This year the 4th of July fell on a Thursday, interfering with neither BB-Bingo Wednesday nor Big Band Saturday and the long range forecast called for "Mostly Okay," which is about as good as it gets in Aitkin County.

During the next two days the town prepared for its upcoming, albeit temporary, demographic shift. Everybody had a job to do. Uncle Al and I were brewing enough Fyr Fly cherry root beer to quell the thirsts of five hundred thrill seekers. The Eigersund boys stacked rows of old tractor tires for the tire roll, Doc Vimmerby was busy setting up the P.A. system, the Arendahls were putting a fresh coat of yellow paint on the tower, the Scumaskis were building barricades along the south end of Bergen, Zeke Zekk and the Drammens were grading and spraying the roads. Over at Rimbos the Holmstrands assisted with the pølse production, while on the bakery end of the building the women helped Debby Rimbo with the twisting of the nøla wheels. This little town was getting ready for the best 4th of July ever!

July 3, noon- It was my mother's birthday and I wanted to call her on the telephone and wish her a Happy Birthday. The Arendahl twins were nice enough to let me use the phone at their cafe for my weekly Saturday afternoon calls, but today I planned to surprise my mom and call her on Wednesday. I peddled my sykkel over to the cafe and parked in the "Tractors Only" zone. Walking up the steps I glanced at the wooden-framed chalkboard "Special of the Day" sign. It read: "Squirrel and Dumplings." I did a double take before going inside. The tiny cafe was swarming with alien aromas and strange bearded backwoods faces. The smell of the food wasn't as bad as the folks who seemed to be enjoying it. I managed to work my way past the tables of bobbing heads and dripping beards without getting slopped on.

As soon as Rainy saw me she asked how I was doing. I told her "fine" and proceeded to ask if I could use the phone to surprise my mother on her birthday. She thought it would be a sweet gesture on my part and told me with a big smile, "You know where it is." I politely thanked her and ducked around the corner to the larder/office. I sat down in front of the big, black, featureless (no buttons or dial) telephone, took a breath and picked up the hand piece.

"Number please," the operator said.

"Long distance, please."

"One moment please." While I was waiting for the transfer, I heard a roar of laughter coming from the dining area. I figured someone found an eyeball in their gravy.

Another operator answered and said, "Long distance."

"Milaca, please," I said.

"One moment, please."

Then yet another operator said, "Milaca."

"One, nine, five, please," I said.

"Thank you."

The phone was answered on the second ring.

"Hello," a voice said. It was my mother.

"Happy Birthday, Mom!" I shouted.

"James, is that you?" she asked.

"Yup, it's me. Rainy let me use the phone so I could surprise you!" My mother thanked me for the call, asked how I was, and wanted to know if I was ready to come home yet. My replies were, "You¹re welcome." "Good." And "No." I told her about our trip to Duluth, the big ships, the lift bridge and our picnic.

"Well, good for you," she said. "I'm glad everything is going well."

It was reassuring to hear Mom's voice again. Although she tried to talk me into coming home for the Pease 4th of July festivities, I told her that Al needed me at the root beer stand. We chatted a bit more then said our good-byes. It wasn't easy.