Newberry. Alma Maroni

NEWBERRY

Posted By: Mary H. Cochrane, Volunteer
Date: 7/2/2019 at 15:17:42

Obituary ~ Alma Moroni Newberry
1846 ~ 1904

Lamoni's Passing Parade
by Joseph H. Anthony, p. 51. Blair Printing Co. ca. 1948.

It was sometime in the spring or early summer of 1897, shortly after we had moved to Lamoni, that my mother sent me upon an errand to purchase a bushel of corn for chicken feed. I went as she had instructed me, to the mill and the elevator without success and also made inquiry at one or two of the stores which occasionally carried certain varieties of feed, but it seemed that none of them had corn for sale. At each place, however, they offered the same solution to my problem:

"Why don't you see Newberry," each of them in turn suggested. "If you want to buy corn he should be able to help you out." This as no especial help to me, as I was just a youngster and had been in the town but a few weeks. The mention of the name Newberry had no significance so far as I was concerned, and why he name should always be mentioned in this connection became somewhat of a mystery. It was not to be so for long, however, for suddenly one of the men I had made inquiry of exclaimed: "There goes Newberry now," and in the same breath he shouted to the man who came driving a team of horses down the street. He reined his team and drew over to the sidewalk where we were standing. "This boy would like to buy a bushel of corn," my benefactor said by way of introduction and then turned and walked back into his store.

A. M. Newberry was a short, stocky man of middle age and no matter what other characteristics he might had possessed they were all at least temporarily hidden behind a luxuriant growth of red whisker - I believe the most and the reddest whiskers I had ever seen, and he stroked them more or less caressingly as he peered curiously down at me from his wagon seat.

"Want to buy some corn, eh?" he queried, feigning the timeworn air of seriousness so many grown-ups assume when bargaining with a youngster.

"Do you think you and I could agree on the price of a bushel of corn?"

I assured him that there would be no trouble on that score, and then, with a rather mischievous grin and another contemplative stroking of his whiskers, he said: "Well climb up in the seat beside me and we'll go see if we can find a bushel of corn."

I did as he bade me, and he drove down Linden street, turning west when he reached the railroad track; and there he showed me numerous corn cribs he had built along the track, all of them full of corn - hundreds of bushels of corn. He drove on past this row of cribs and turned north on the next street, stopping when he had reached the lot where the Ford garage now stands. He climbed down from the wagon and I followed him. Here was another group of corn cribs, all filled with corn. He walked over to the one of them which seemed to be in rather a bad state of repair. Some of the boards had pulled loose and the corn had fallen out on the ground, giving evidence of deterioration from the effect of weather and rats. He pushed the damaged corn aside with his foot and then sorted out enough clean corn from the crib to fill my sack; then he tried to nail the loose boards back in place, using a heavy stone for a hammer. When I tried to pay him he gave vent to a good-natured chuckle and threw the sack into the wagon with the remark: "Jump in, and I'll take you home. The chickens are probably getting pretty hungry."

That was my introduction to A. M. Newberry, who was known at that time pretty generally as the corn king of Lamoni. He delivered the corn to our door and although he had invested practically all of his means in corn he would not let us pay him for the corn or for his trouble. He had started buying and cribbing corn during the financial depression which hit the country in the 90's, thinking that the price of 10 or 12 cents a bushel could not possibly last more than one or two seasons at most, and in that time he accumulated thousands of bushels of corn which he found almost impossible to dispose of at any price. This venture was a severe blow and practically ruined him financially, but in spite of his misfortune he did not lose his sense of humor and was always ready with a witty reply to even the causal comment. Upon one occasion he saw a dense cloud of smoke arising on one of his neighbor's premises and thinking one of his buildings was on fire he turned in the fire alarm. A few minutes later the fire bell (the same one which nowadays is used to call fire meetings) clanged vigorously and in a short time the firemen assembled and taking their places at the two-wheeled hose cart - the sole piece of fire-fighting equipment the town possessed in those days, and one that was drawn by man-power - they dashed at break-neck speed toward the scene of the fire, followed by the usual group of curious citizens.

Upon reaching the scene of the fire they found it to be only a pile of brush the neighbor happened to be burning down in the far corner of his lot, and when the firemen realized they had made the run for nothing they became indignant.

"Who turned in that alarm?" shouted the chief, panting for breath as he looked searchingly through the crowd.

"I did," replied A. M. Newberry rather sheepishly. "I thought it was the barn . . ."

"Can't you tell the difference between a barn and a brush pile?" the chief interrupted angrily.

"I think so," replied the accused one simply, "but you see, the wind was blowing and when it blows my whiskers in front of my eyes it seems to me the whole world is afire."

This was too much - even the chief laughed in spite of his anger and the onlookers howled with delight.

A. M. Newberry was typical of the early pioneers of Lamoni. He was a good citizen, he loved his home and his family and his community, and if the most critical thing that could be said of him is that he invested too heavily in a worthless commodity, then history has exonerated him completely, for we all know that corn is not a worthless commodity and we know today that it is worth more than ten cents a bushel. The story of A. M. Newberry should contain much of value to those of this agricultural community. Like many pioneers he was forced to be a martyr to a cause and to pay the price, that later generations might profit therefrom and in this role he was an important figure in Lamoni's passing parade.

Transcription by Jean Belzer, October 5, 2001