The Pot Bellied Stove - A Rez Boys Adventure
Our house in Northern Minnesota, winter of 1948.
My two brothers and I had just finished supper, fried Spam also known as Ojibwe steak, potato soup without potato's. Mom was cleaning up. We were really excited, it was Wednesday evening and we had just gotten our new radio. It was a beauty, used, but hey it was new to us. It sat on a table, with a wood covering and had a huge face with two dials. The newest wonder of the tech age.
Dad was at work, he worked the 5pm to 1am shift in the iron ore mines. A tough job, but he was a tough man. January in northern Minnesota is not a day in the park. Howling winds, snow piled six feet high and cold, I mean really cold. 25 below zero. A great night to be in the house and listening to our favorite three radio programs with the pot bellied stove roaring.
I better describe the house. The kitchen, living room, dinning room and den were one room, today it's called a great room, we called it no walls. Two bedrooms, one for mom and dad and the other for the three of us. One bathroom, yup we now had indoor plumbing, a first for our household. Dad, Uncle Tall Man, Uncle Duncan and our neighbor, Chad One Finger Beretta had built it in the fall and also added a porch to our house. No permits required, but that's another story.
Before dad left for work he would bring in plenty of split wood for the stove. It was my job if the first load of wood got to low before we went to bed, I was to bring in more.
The next rule was that none of us could touch the radio. Only mom and dad were allowed to do that. If you broke anything in those days there was no replacement and the radio was dads pride and joy. I thought that us boys should have been his pride and joy, but dad always said: I can shut the radio off, you boys I can't shut up.
The three of us made sure the fire in the stove was roaring, and gathered around the radio, waiting for mom to come over and turn it on for us. You didn't have to worry about finding a station, there was only one in the north woods. Station IMRED, broadcasting from Cass Lake Reservation. Mom came over and turned it on and we were really excited. The first program was my cousin Luther telling the news of the day. Luther got his first job as an announcer for the station only a week before. Luther would get excited reading the news and forget his place and get stories mixed up. He once totally forgot where he was and started chanting. The rez listeners thought some one had died which led to rumors that Luther was brain dead.
Anyhow Luther let us know what was happening in the world. Our world was about two square miles. The first program, Sargent Preston of the Yukon and his dog King. What an adventure, Sargent usually saved a maiden in distress, and King would save them.
Next up was Inter Sanctum, it started with a creaking door opening. My youngest brother, Dolt would usually pee his pants when the he heard EEEKKKKKKK door. By the end of the program we were all scared out of our wits, and then it was time for bed.
I checked the pot bellied stove in the great room, fire going good, plenty of wood piled next to it, we were set for bed. The three of us piled into bed, one bed for the all of us, but that was ok, because it was always so cold the body heat helped keep us from freezing.
This is when things started to go wrong. Dolt, my youngest brother woke up in the middle of the night and was cold, so he went out to the stove to get more heat, in his thinking he would open the door in the front of the stove so more heat would come out. This is why we called him Dolt. Dolt jumped back into bed, happy and warm.
The next thing that I knew my mother was hauling us out of bed, screaming that the house was on fire. Dolt ran into the closet and shut the door, I told you why we called him Dolt. Mom got us out of the bedroom. The great room was filled with smoke and sparks were shooting out of the door Dolt had left open. The sparks flew when ever the wood crackled. Mom's favorite rug, actually the only rug we had was smoldering. This was a very bad sign for us since mom really got upset when we got dirt on her rug, now we were burning it up.
Our little town didn't have a fire department, we had volunteers. Add this to the fact that we didn't have a phone set the stage for disaster.
Mom was opening up windows and doors. It was 25 below zero out, we were caught between freezing to death or burning up.
Thank goodness that the three of us wore long johns to bed. You know the kind with the trap door in the back. Dolt usually put his on backwards so when it was that time Dolt would create a huge mess in his long johns.
At that moment dad pulled up in front of the house in his 1934 Ford pick up. Dad was used to the cold, the truck didn't have a heater that worked and had holes in the floor boards so it was air conditioned all the time. A typical rez truck.
Meanwhile it was my mission to save the radio. Rushing to where I thought that it was, the smoke was blinding, I knocked it off the table and it crashed to the floor. Oh no, my life was coming to and end, I broke the radio.
I could hear my brother Dolt screaming, I thought that he was on fire until I heard mom shouting at brother number two: ''Quit hitting your brother'' Brother number two telling mom: ''Dolt lighted the house on fire the dolt.'' Mom answering,'' beat him up once were outside and safe.'' Brother number two invented a lot of words.
There was the time that he used a four letter word, he walked around with a bar of lava soap in his mouth for a week.
At that moment this giant of a man came through the door, our dad, with the volunteers right behind him. Fat Freddy Fagan, Big Man Crow, Duward Farqward and Chad ''One Finger'' Beretta. Instead of opening the front door Big Man Crow used his new fire ax to split it open. I could hear Big Man Crow shouting, ''I love this ax.''
We were saved. Dad scooped up the radio and mom lead us outside to safety. Duward poured water on the stove which filled the room with steam...No matter we were saved.
Thus ended another night in the life of ''The Rez Boys''.....
My disclaimer..Names have been changed to protect Dolt..
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We survived, barely.
One more of your great and exciting stories to bring a lot of excitement and entertainment to our lives. Thank you for sharing our great sense of humor and life experiences in such a delightful way that will help make our day.
Your welcome RW....
Spread the laughs so to speak.
You have such great stories. I have a few and might try them on here.
Thanks magnoliaave.
You should post some of your stories.
LOL.. I don't know if I should laugh or cry from that story. The kid in me is laughing my head off. The parent in me is OMG, I am going to kill those boys.
Tell me, did you have anything left of a home?
Low key, love these stories!
Yes we did have the house pretty much intact, well at least close to being intact.
As my father said when I thought that us boys should be his pride and joy and not the radio.
''I can turn the radio off, you boys I can't shut up''....
I love this story!
Poor dolt! I hope he lived it down! I well remember those old pot belly stoves that glowed red at night and the dubious area of heat that came from them. You were either freezing or frying with them! But, you could put thinly sliced potatoes on their top and get a sort of "french fry" effect and that was Yummy! I wish we still had one, in addition to our central heat.
Grandpa and Grandma had an old coal furnace-- warmest heat there is, but dirty!
Thanks for this story!
We used to dry our wet clothes on the pot belly stove...Did a good job but if you left them on long they burned or ended up being stiff as a board.
That reminds me of another story, later on that one.
Dolt screwed up so many times in his life that he grew up to be another cousin Luther.
My cousin, who owned the pot belly stove, used to dry her laundry on lines strung around the room. You had to let her know ahead of time, that you were coming, because she didn't like us seeing her 'unmentionables'... I think it embarrassed her.
That was cousin Jane, who had been reared as Grandpa's sister, after her own mother died, shortly after her birth. Jane was wonderful! She looked like WC Fields in a dress, but I adored her! She had the best laugh, and the best lap of any one!
" She looked like WC Fields in a dress"
Now there's a real visual experience for you!
LOL! She was a wonderful woman, just large and round... Hey, I didn't give two hoots what she looked like, I loved her!
The best kind of Cousin the have! I had a Great-Aunt much like her, and she was indeed one of the most happy and pleasant person I have ever met. I loved being around her. Just looking at her made me feel great. (smile)
She subscribed to a magazine around in the 60s, called The Sunshine Magazine. I kept every copy I could find, after she passed in 1969, and still read them- they are uplifting@
W.C. Fields in a dress...OMG your too funny Dowser.
Jane could take plain old macaroni, rat cheese, and tomato ketchup and turn it into a feast! Oh MY! I've never made it as wonderful as hers was, and not for lack of trying, either. Of course, Daddy told me she used old rat cheese, and it took quite a few years to realize that there is no such thing as rat cheese-- just icky cheese that is actually sharp, cheddar cheese. Golly, was I dumb!
Great story !
Thanks pat.
You have a wonderful gift for writing stories... You really should get them published.
Thanks Nona.
I agree!