I unfortunately don't know alot
of the details about Manley's cowboy days before he married
my grandmother. Manley was thirty-five when on October 16, 1922
he married Anna Ellen Vogt, a widower with three grown children
who would become my mom's step-brothers and sister.
Mom was the only child of Anna
and Manley and with his new family the quiet but tough-as-nails
cowboy probably had some adjusting to do after his lengthy bachelorhood.
But his little Betty Ann was the apple of his eye and I know
he would have done anything for her.
Anna, Betty and
Manley Barr, ca. 1926
I think Manley merged his new
family life with what he always loved and therefore he continued
to raise horses after he was married. Prior to WWI he sold a
number of horses to the Army. After WWI he continued to raise
horses, although the US Army's cavalry and horse platoons no
longer needed horses as they were moving to be a more mechanized
military.
I can remember my dad later saying
that Manley probably stayed too long in the horse business and
that it contributed to his loss of their ranch during the Great
Depression.
In cleaning out an old desk I
recently found a card advertising a closing out sale
of breeding stallions. I don't know the date of this event or
if it had anything to do with when my grandparents lost their
River Ranch in Elba, Nebraska (Howard County) around 1933. This
sale was in York and probably involved the family ranch in York.
But the high quality of the stallions for sale on the card matches
what I had heard about his appreciation for good horses. It
also called to mind a line I read in his obituary that said
"Mr. Barr...had a great admiration and knowledge of horses."
This closing out sales card also
became a trigger for my own memories of my grandfather in the
1950's and early 60's and specifically the hours I spent with
him each August when he would come to visit us in Lincoln. Those
visits always included a full day at the Nebraska State Fair
for just my grandpa and me where we would go to the horse barns
and the exhibition hall where we could sit and watch the horses
and their riders display their talents.
Doug, Grandpa and
Grandma Barr, 1951
Elba Farm ca.1953
Easter, ca.1957
July 1965
I always looked forward to the
Nebraska State Fair and can still re-create our State Fair itinerary
from memory. Grandpa Barr was a man of few words but he probably
talked more with me at the State Fair than any other time I
can remember.
In comparison, it would be interesting
to know how much he talked to horses, whether on the range,
at his ranch or at the State Fair. My guess is that there was
considerable communication through the years between Grandpa
Barr and horses.
Three vivid memories are still
associated with my Nebraska State Fair outings with Grandpa
Barr.
At the end of August and the
first week in September during fair time it could be 100°
F and I remember it always was humid. A Hires Root Beer in a
frosty mug was a must stop. We visited the same root beer stand
each year (it was just up the street from the main Agricultural
Hall) and it gave us a break from the horse barns, 4-H riding
exhibitions and other farm related exhibitions found at that
same end of the fairgrounds.
Industrial Arts Building,
ca. 1950's, Apple mosaic The Fruit of the Pioneers, courtesy
Lincoln Journal-Star
Another must stop was the Grace
Methodist Church food stand were we would eat homemade cherry
or apple pie or St. James Methodist's food stand, our other
pie palace. King's had a stand where we would normally eat our
favorite hamburger but Grandpa Barr loved pie. I can remember
he would have pie for breakfast when he would visit us and also
telling me that when he went to school his favorite lunch was
a slice of bread spread with lard or a piece of pie.
Walking the fairgrounds, watching
tractor pulls and inspecting farm machinery, looking at the
pigs, chickens, jams and quilts, the vendors selling their veg-o-matics,
and going to the Industrial Arts Building to see the apple art
mosaic (new each year) were all standard activities. But root
beer and pie and Kings were staples for keeping up our energy.
My third memory of Grandpa Barr
and the State Fair was walking with him on the midway and spending
extra time at the end of the midway where a Hoochy
Kootchy show was located. I can remember the mystery that
I felt as a young boy wondering what went on inside that tent.
Also a little guilt as I was thinking my mom shouldn't probably
know that we spent any time observing the promotional acts outside
that exhibit.
I did at one point go inside the
penny arcade on the midway and view the 'shapely pin-ups."
All I saw through its peephole, however, after putting in my
coin was a light going on and a row of clothespins in various
colors.
What else do I remember
about Grandpa Barr?
Grandpa Barr had
one phrase when we played pitch that was never fully resolved
as to the exact limits of his words: When cutting the deck he
would say "Cut 'em thin, sure to win." I think
'house rules' ultimately decided that it had to be at least
two cards that were part of the cut. But if you were unitiated
to our card table, it probably seemed a somewhat controversial,
albeit good-humored, tactic.
He had a single light
bulb hanging from the ceiling over his bed and there was a string
attached to it that he could reach while laying in bed to turn
it on or off.
When he peeled potatoes
he would sit in his captain's chair in the middle of the kitchen
and bend over a bucket where the peelings would fall into. No
garbage disposal, of course, so the peelings would then go into
his compost heap behind his house.
He liked Kellogg's Corn Flakes
or oatmeal for breakfast. Because of a farm accident he was
missing three fingers on his right hand so he would hold a sugar
spoon with that hand (not really able to grip it) and use his
left hand to tap his right hand to sprinkle the sugar on his
cereal. It was a morning ritual.
1960 Box of Kellogg's
Corn Flakes
Kellogg's Toasted
Corn Flakes, Ladies' Home Journal, May 1913
But in the end, two phrases stand
out when I think of Grandpa Barr.
The first one was normally heard
when playing pitch and he urged me to "Bid 'em high
and sleep in the streets." He loved playing cards and
it was a phrase encouraging me to not be afraid of going set
if I thought my cards looked like they had some potential. He
certainly wasn't a river boat gambler but perhaps this phrase
was also my grandpa giving me broader advice to take some chances
in life.
In contrast, his other phrase
seemed humorously cautionary and would be used when it was time
for us to go home. He'd look me in the eyes and then say "Good-bye
and don't take any wooden nickels." The "don't
take any wooden nickels" phrase is believed to have started
in the United States at the beginning of the twentieth century
when it was given as advice to be wary of being taken advantage
of by unscrulpulous people, particularly by those in the big
city. This belief that those living in the country might be
naive in the ways of the big city probably resonated with many
of that era. But that belief wasn't something new and differences
between the city and country lifestyles and morals have been
a popular culture belief for countless generations with examples
told in stories going back to at least the 6th century BCE
with Aesop's Fable "The Town Mouse and the Country
Mouse."
The contrast between city and
country life was also a popular comedy routine in early phonograph
recordings such as in the stories told by Cal Stewart's Uncle
Josh Weathersby who lived in rural Punkin' Centre. (Listen to
Uncle Josh's visit to New York City on his 1902 Edison Record
"Uncle
Josh and the Bunco Steerers" and "Uncle
Josh Weathersby and the Lightening Rod Agent" (where
Uncle Josh gets "Buncode agin, by Chowder!") as examples
of this theme.
Read Smithsonian's article
"A
Brief History of the Nickel" for more details about
the United States nickel).
For a phonograph connection with
wooden nickel/wooden money see wooden
nickel.
"Bid 'em high and sleep in
the streets."
"Good-bye and don't take
any wooden nickels".
Classic Grandpa Barr!
To learn more about Grandpa Barr
see my mom's story My
Dad, Manley Miller Barr
Footnote 2023
When you're a collector you
seek and and keep things intentionally. When you are cleaning
up your parents house (where they lived for over fifty years)
you find things you weren't looking for.
The following card is one of
those items I came across when going through some of the greeting
cards mom kept and I'm adding it as a footnote. It's disproportionate
in the prominence it gets by being on this page (even if I
call it a footnote), but mom must have found it amusing and
she kept it.
I'm pretty sure it was a birthday
card Manley sent to Axel circa 1958 and it was signed on the
back by Manley as "From Anna & MB" (Manley Barr).
Not a card I would have expected from my grandma to her son-in-law.
I'm guessing Grandma Barr asked
Manley to get a card in the mail to Axel and this is what
he chose.
Grandma Barr probably didn't
see what MB sent.
Or maybe she did, and smiled.
