One Sunday, my Aunt Hilma and Grandpa Anderson had journeyed the six miles from their place in the Ramsey Valley to Center, South Dakota. They had driven my Grandpa’s trusty Model T Ford, which he customarily drove down the center of the road or on the left side, whichever looked the smoothest. On occasion he was known to turn around and back up a steep hill, because the clutch facing would grab better in reverse and not slip as they would often do going forward. This was his preferred way to negotiate some of the Ramsey hills rather than burning up his forward gears.
This particular Sunday also happened to be Halloween, and my brothers decided to play a joke on Grandpa. They sneaked out of the house and quietly pushed Grandpa’s “T” down through the side yard and into some trees at the west edge of our acre.
When it was getting dark, Grandpa decided it was time to head for home. He went out to get his car started and came back in all excited that he had been robbed! The car was gone! Everyone was pretty upset that such a thing could happen at Center
After some discussion about calling the sheriff to report this theft, a smirk or two from the instigators of the crime blew their cover. The car was found, in the trees, none the worse for being missing. I don’t think Grandpa thought it was a very clever Halloween prank, but it was talked about for many years to come. There probably were some words said to the perpetrators that were meant to properly chastise them, but most likely had little lingering effect. It was probably good that we children didn’t understand Swedish.
By Allan Anderson, 2005.
-oOo-
Anderson Family History 