It was the first week in August 1900, and we were going to visit Grandmother Hein. She lived in Anderson, a small village in Fremont County, Iowa. Father, Mother, Brother Charles, and I lived about forty miles away across the Missouri River, and south a couple of counties. There was no direct railroad connection between our town of Auburn, and Grandmother's home. Nobody, at least in that area, had the new contraption called an "automobile." (I never even saw an auto until I was in the 5th grade.) Mother had a fat dappled-bay mare named Doll, and a one-seated-buggy with a compartment behind the seat for luggage and lunches.
Plans were made to start early on Saturday morning, August 4, to arrive in Nebraska City before noon, feed and water Doll, eat our lunches, rest a bit and then proceed with the last half of the journey.
In preparation Mother had washed and mended our wearing apparel, had starched and ironed Father's white collars, and had baked fresh bread and rolls for our lunch. Father had curried and brushed Doll until she fairly sparkled. And we all took our baths a day early on Friday night. Bright and early the next morning, we ate a quick breakfast, stowed the luggage and lunches, and were on our way.
It took most of the morning to go the twenty miles to Nebraska City. Father unharnessed Doll, took her to the watering-trough for a drink, and gave her a box of grain in a shady spot where she could rest a while before taking the last half of the trip. Then we found a shady place on the courthouse lawn where we could eat our lunch and watch the city crowds. I had never seen black people before, but there were a lot of them in town that day.
Early in the afternoon, we resumed our trip. We crossed the Missouri River and I remember how amazed I was when Mother said, "Now we are in Iowa." I had expected to see pink grass and pink leaves as indicated by the pink map of Iowa I had been shown.
We arrived at Grandmother Hein's late in the afternoon. There was a man, up on the roof of a shed, my Uncle Charley. I do not remember much about the rest of our visit in Iowa, but it did rain, so when we left the roads were very muddy. We must have left around midmorning for it was dark when we got back to the Nemaha River Bridge a short distance north of Auburn.
Just as we got to the bridge, Doll stopped. Father urged her to proceed, but she would not budge, so he got out of the buggy, took one of the carriage kerosene lamps out of its socket and stepped ahead to see what could be the matter. There was a board-barricade across the entrance to the bridge with the words-- NO BRIDGE -- just water overflowing the bank.
Since the nearest bridge was several miles away, Mother and Father decided to "Camp Out" right there and make the detour in the morning light. Doll was unharnessed and tethered and we all tried to sleep, but the mosquitoes had other ideas. When the dawn's early light appeared Doll was put back into harness and we got home in time for breakfast.
That was the last time I ever saw Grandmother Hein and Uncle Charley.
