Where it all began…
Visit the Sand Hills of Nebraska and you will surely get sand in your shoes and a warm spot in your heart that never goes away. Grandpa’s story begins near Eli, Nebraska on a section of that amazing prairie grass that holds the rolling sand hills in place where the wind can change a country road overnight into a blow-out that can stop you in your tracks.
He is the youngest son of Lennie and Ruth (Galloway) Garner. Like his brothers, he was born at home; but unlike his brothers, his mother didn’t have a name for him. She wanted a girl. So his birth certificate said “Boy Garner” for many years. He was given the name “Laddie” by his Grandfather Galloway who called him “Little Laddie” and it stuck so he was called “Lad”.
Both Lennie and Ruth were Sandhills natives. She grew up along the Niobrara River south of Kilgore where the homestead is still occupied by Galloways. Legend has it that Lad’s Great Great Grandfathers fought in the Civil War on opposite sides.
One day before Lad was born, Lennie’s dad rode out along the river to check his cattle and the horse came home without him. He was found dead with a large head wound. It was called an accident, (perhaps he hit a tree) but many suspected foul play. His will gave each of his three sons a section of land and the five daughters got an education. Lennie was a great baseball pitcher as a young man. So good that a scout from the New York Yankees offered him an opportunity to play with them. Mom said “no son of mine is going that far away to play ball.” So Lennie settled into running his ranch and helping his neighbors.
The first 14 years of Lad’s life were filled with adventure and hard work with his brothers. On the ranch, there were 17 cows to be milked twice a day, then the cream was separated and both were sold in Eli, a small bustling ranch community with a post office, general store, blacksmith shop school and Wesleyan Church that still meets every Sunday (interesting fact: the outhouse was the only bathroom facility and it had a stained glass window). There was one parking meter and a hitching post out front. The post office was established at Eli in 1909, and remained in operation until it was discontinued in 1967.
Those were also the days he learned that big boys don’t cry (when his brothers accidentally hit him in the head with a pipe). They played lots of baseball. Larry, the oldest brother, always pitched and Lad, the youngest brother, was his catcher because no one else wanted to catch Larry’s fast ball. Their well worn catcher’s mitt was losing the padding in the center so Lad learned to adapt or hurt his hand. One day a fight broke out when Bob, the middle brother, was at bat and Larry called “strike three.” They were all rolling around in the dirt hitting each other when Mom showed up. She sent them to the creek for a willow switch. They knew that meant a paddling. But instead, she broke the switch in half, put them together, broke them, then put the three together and tried to break them but they didn’t break. And reminded them that “three strands are not quickly broken.” A lesson was learned that day that carried them through their adult lives and running a business together. A wise woman, raising wise men.
Ruth taught at a ranch school and when Lad was younger, she would take him to her school with her. He learned to drive the car by sitting on her lap and steering. When they were all school age, the boys walked to school in Eli which was just a couple of miles over hills “as a crow flies”. Those hills became his fitness course as he ran to and from school when he was older.
There are many stories to share about Grandpa’s growing up years in the Sand Hills of Nebraska. We will save some for another day.
Fireside Stories 