THE SUMMER OF 1965
Stan, is the oldest of us four kids. I came along just fifteen short months later, and though I was second in the birthing order. I was the CEO of my three brothers. {we laugh about it now days, but they used to salute me and say, “yes Sir, Sargent General Sir”. } We had to keep the house and rooms as clean as possible to avoid upsetting our mom, and since they were boys, and tended to play and not worry about things like that. I acted like I was the resident police office. Always giving orders and telling them what we needed to get done before mom got home.
When Stan and I were 5 and 6, we were playing in the back of dad’s old garage where things had accumulated since he was in high school. There were old swing sets, old planters and plow parts. On this particular excursion around the garage, we stumbled onto a couple of “MORE RUSTY THAN RED tricycles.
One of them was in decent shape, with one back tire bend and unable to roll. The other tricycle had a crooked handlebar, and front tire was folded in half. There is not telling the story behind these two trikes but when we mentioned them to Dad and ask him if he could fix them, he had that pensive look. You know the look, the one says he’s doubting what you are wanting but he about to agree to check it out and see what he can do about it. We didn’t have any bikes at all, so the prospect looked for us.
Dad was born right on the tail end of the Great Depression; he never threw anything away. His theory was we might need it someday. He was usually right more often than not, and he was repurposing all sorts of things before Pinterest…. and before it was cool.
We ask Dad if there was a way he could take the two bikes and at least make one that worked, and Stan and I would take turns riding it. Big brother was in total agreement with this idea at the time.
Dad told us he would go look at them when he got a few minutes and for us to run along and play. Later that afternoon, just before suppertime Dad hollered at both of us to come up to the house. We went running up the hill from the creek where were always digging in the water for old treasures or trying to catch big fat green bull frogs. They were awesome to look at and so much fun to catch.
As we ran around the corner of the large two-story white farmhouse towards the old garage, we saw Dad standing in front of his creation.
The minute I saw , I knew our Dad was a genius.! He had cut the front tire off the mangled tricycle, pressed the frame together in front of the seat of the second tricycle, drilled a hole in the it, and then connected the front half of that tricycle to the back half of the good tricycle.
We were so excited………well…. I should say I was excited. Because the look on Stan’s face was anything but happy. He looked up at our Dad with a scowl of disbelief, and then he turned sideways and cut his eyes in my direction. WOW, I can still see that glare in my memory. Lol
While Stan was generally in a pretty complacent mood. We built tree forts together, played hide and seek all over the farm, once we even pull a Campbell soup can lid from the burned-up garbage and cut our thumbs to be blood bothers. IT was something he saw watching Leave it to Beaver or something. (Looking back that wasn’t one of his brighter ideas.)
Dad was proud of his invention, and holding onto the handlebars he said
“Stan, you hop on the front seat, and Sherry will have to ride in the back.” Stan didn’t move. I of course jumped right on the back half of this new tricycle. I couldn’t wait to ride together all around the farm.
Stan didn’t attempt to move. He looked up at Dad and said, “Why do I have to be up front peddling?”.
“Because you’re older, and bigger than she is, now get on. ” Dad tried coaxing my brother again. “
” Sherry is going to hold on to your shoulders because she doesn’t have any handlebars, come on, get on and try it.” Dad finished encouragingly. Come on, get on.” He finished still with an encouraging tone. Dad was suggesting that Stan get on the front, he was telling him politely. I felt like this was going to be the greatest invention of our young years.
That look on my brother’s face was still there. That’s when I stopped smiling. I realized, Stan was not on board with this idea. He was not a fan of this new two-seated tricycle contraption that our Dad created but he also knew he really had no choice at this point except to climb on the front and start peddling. Dad watched us for a few minutes then he went on to his next chore.
Now this was the life. I loved it this trike redo. I was enjoying a free ride pulling on stans shirt trying to stay on the little seat behind him. I am sure he was enjoying that about as much as our new contraption because much to my own surprise Stan began peddling faster and harder. I was too busy trying to hold on and keep my feet hooked on the back of my part of the trike and I was clueless as to what was fueling him on.
A few more rounds around the driveway in the thick sand and dirt and grass. He was going a bit fast but it was great fun. When he was sure that we were out of Dads my older, bigger brother ceremoniously jump off the front of that tricycle built for two and when he bailed the front end came up off the ground and landed me flat on my backside.
Our family has laughed many times about this memory over the years and about our Dads Rural ingenuity.
Recently, it hit me. All of our 12 beautiful grandchildren have outgrown tricycles. There must be 12 or 15 2-wheel bikes reused, regifted, in the shed and on any given weekend when they’re all here for a visit, this circular farm drive looks like a NASCAR race for bikes. The teens ride fast and stop quickly showing the younger ones how to ” break and slide or pop some wheelies”. You know, the safe stuff. Not only do they take blocks and boards and make ramps so they can get up speed and make a cool jump or two. This Omie, (German for Grandma) has helped them all on more than one occasion to build said ramps. LOL
Yesterday. I had an idea. My Dads must be rubbing off on me.
I decided to try my hand at welding. I took an old vintage tricycle that I once bought just because it was old and was using in the front yard as a decoration. I cut the front of another tricycle that wasn’t vintage, that was just worn out and I hooked the two tricycles together.
I RE-CREATED THE tricycle built for two that Dad made for Stan and me. My intention is just to have it to look at or perhaps sit it around my garden shed as a decoration.
The memory of our shared bike is precious to me. I wanted to recreate the contraption to show our Dad and send a picture of it to Stan. I thought he would get a real kick out of it.
I can ALMOST see his eyes GLARING at me now, clear from Kentucky.