Dad Would Be Proud; I Am

Matt - LV Steinhoff 12-1975Son Matt was only two years old when Dad, L.V. Steinhoff, died in 1977, so he really only knows him from photos. (Click on the photos to make them larger.)

Malcolm

2015-06-13 MLS family at Mammoth CaveGrandson Malcolm, son of Matt and Sarah, is 11. He’s a voracious reader, a soccer player and a serious geek with a wicked sense of humor. He’s coming to spend a few days with me in Cape next week while Wife Lila is attending her Class of 1966’s 50th reunion.

I hope I can give him some Swampeast Missouri memories to take back with him.

Graham, Elliot and Finn

2015-06-15 Adam family collageSon Adam and Wife Carly produced three rambunctious, adventurous and terminally cute boys, Graham, Elliot and Finn.

One of Adam’s Facebook friends, Laurel Cherwin, created a collection of photos of the family, along with this copy:

I Honor Adam Steinhoff : a man who loves his boys! He passionately embraces Fatherhood as an exciting adventure and fills his boys lives with love, pure joy, exploration, thrill seeking activities, encourages creativity, expression and silliness! I Love you Adam & So proud of the father and man you have become.

I can’t say it any better than she did.

A quick thought on Father’s Day

Steinhoff family c 1953Brothers David and Mark and I were blessed to be raised by two great parents who nurtured us, guided us and made us who we are today.

I’m proud of the way my boys have turned out. That’s the best Father’s Day gift anyone can have.

(That’s my grandmother, Elsie Welch, on the couch in this photo from 1963. I’m the guy in the mirror taking the picture.)

International Turtle Day

Note on Mary Steinhoff's water heater 03-23-2016I went into the Buchheit Store between Cape and Jackson looking for a hot water heater for Mother’s house. It’s been banging and clanging for years, but I think the tank is so filled with sediment that there’s no room for water. Missouri cold water is a lot colder that Florida cold water, as I found out in the shower the other morning.

On the side of the tank, in my handwriting, was a note, “6/19/87.”

I called Wife Lila’s brother, John Perry, who had installed it, and said, “John, you told me that this thing had a lifetime warranty.”

“Well,” he said, “When I told you that, I never thought you’d live this long.”

But, that’s not really the point of the story.

“Your hat has a turtle on it”

KLS selfie 03-23-2016The young gal at the customer service desk bagging fresh popcorn looked up when I asked where the hot water tanks live and said, “Today is International Turtle Day, and you are wearing a cap with a turtle on it.”

Indeed, I was. It’s the logo for the real estate company Kid Matt works for down in Jupiter, Florida.

(P.S. Kid, the hat is looking a little bedraggled, certainly not the image that a high-end real estate company would want to project. Maybe it’s time for a new one.)

“Easy content,” I thought. I’ll look up a few factoids about International Turtle Day, grab a few file photos I’ve run of turtles and turn in early.

Alas, it WASN’T International Turtle Day

Turtle and Dog 1966March 23 ISN’T International Turtle Day. It’s been May 23 since it was started in 2000 by American Tortoise Rescue. To add to the confusion, I’ve seen it as both World Turtle Day and International Turtle Day.

The puppy and I have the same expression.

Well, at least the gal was right about where the hot water heaters were.

Dad’s Secret Stamp Stash

LV Steinhoff stamps 01-09-2015I got a package in the mail this morning from Brother Mark. It contained two plastic bags of U.S. postage stamps and a letter that read, in part:

“Dad had put away several boxes of stamps years ago in the basement. He put them in old checking account check boxes and sealed them with tape. That was good and it was bad. Good, because it kept anyone from using them, but even though he separated most of the with a piece of waxed paper, the humidity i the basement got into some of them and caused the glue to become sticky.

Bought them in sheets

“Dad used to buy stamps when he went to the post office to pick up mail for Steinhoff & Kirkwood Construction. He would buy them a sheet at a time and he wanted ones that had a block number on them, probably because he thought it might be worth more like that.

“I took them to some folks in St. Louis who appraised them to be worth about $65 [he didn’t say how much more than face value, if any, they were worth]. I didn’t think it was worth selling them for such a small amount to be split three ways [Mark, David and me]. I’ve done my best to equally separate the stamps so that everyone gets a fair sample of what was there.”

Lila and I collected stamps

LV Steinhoff stamps 01-09-2015

When I was a kid, I collected stamps, but never had anything that was worth a whole lot, then Wife Lila collected commemoratives for awhile. She checked with Sons Matt and Adam, but neither of them were interested in them, so she was going to offer them up for sale. None of mine were rare, and most had been cancelled, so I don’t think they’ll move us into a better brand of cat food.

I told her the ones Mark sent had no real sentimental value for me, so why doesn’t she just use them on mail. She pointed out that we send very few snail mail letters these days, and, even if we did, most of the stamps are of such small denominations that you’d have to cover the whole front of the envelope with them.

Got any stamp collectors out there? Or snail mailers? (You can click on the photos to make them larger.)

Truck Stops and CB Radio

Bertrand truck stop 12-03-2015I was headed toward Charleston on I-57 working on my Bootheel project when I spotted this abandoned truck stop at the Bertrand exit. As always, you can click on the photos to make them larger.

I’ve always had a soft spot for truck stops, going back to the old CB radio days when you’d while away hundreds of miles giving and receiving Smokey reports and sharing road stories. Eventually, somebody would say they were going to stop for fuel, food or facilities, and all of us with time to spare would peel off to put faces with handles.

“Hey, Sweet Thang, got your ears on?”

Bertrand truck stop 12-03-2015Long before Facebook came along, you’d develop rolling friendships with the men and women who fought sleep and boredom by reaching for their microphones. In the dark of the night, somewhere in the Carolinas, I’d been chewing the fat with my front door, an 18-wheeler whose name I’ve long since forgotten, when he said, “Watch out for that four-wheeler. He’s weaving all over the road. Don’t know if he’s drunk or sleepy. Whoa! It ain’t a ‘he,’ it’s a couple girls. ‘Hey, sweet thang, you got your ears on?'”

He quickly established that it was a couple of college girls coming back from break and they were, indeed sleepy, and they had their ears on.

“Sweet thang, pull that vehicle over on the shoulder. I’m going to drive for awhile before you kill yourself or somebody else. I’d let my partner do it, but he’s young and horny, and I’m a grandfather.”

Sure enough, the car pulled over, the driver hopped in, and we went back to rolling for another hour or so until we all wheeled into a truck stop for a cup of 100-weight and a slab of pie.

“Beware of rattlesnakes”

Bertrand truck stop 12-03-2015I thought I had told this story before, but I couldn’t find it in the archives. In 1990, we took the Great Family Vacation Out West. We were driving though the part of Texas where the rest areas had warnings, “Beware of Rattlesnakes,” and signs saying, “Next Services – 120 Miles.” We fought the nighttime boredom by talking to Crazy Eights, the 18-wheeler in front of us, and having the Sons Matt and Adam count the deer eyes shining back at us along the sides of the road (they spotted more than 200 – deer, not eyes).

Finally, Wife Lila said, “I’ve had it. Stop at the next place that has lights.”

I spotted the only break in the darkness, a small motel that had seen much better days (assuming it had EVER had better days), said our goodbyes to Crazy Eights, and let my headlights sweep the motel. Wife Lila said, “Don’t even slow down, Keep on going.”

“Them boys ever been in a big truck?”

Bertrand truck stop 12-03-2015About two miles up the road, Crazy Eights was idling on the shoulder. “I knew you’d be coming along shortly. Have them boys ever been in a big truck?”

After we allowed as how there had been a gap in their education, he offered to let him ride with him.

Wife Lila hesitated, but I argued that this might be the high point of their vacation, and that one of two things would happen: (a) when we got to civilization, he’d give ’em back, or (b) he wouldn’t. At that point in the trip, either would work for me.

I miss the old truck stops

Bertrand truck stop 12-03-2015In the old days, the legend was that you could find a good place to eat by seeing how many trucks were parked around it. That wasn’t necessarily true; they might be there because there was plenty of parking for the big rigs; the fuel could be cheaper than up the road, the waitresses could be friendly and pretty, or the food could actually be good, plentiful and cheap.

Nowadays, alas, you are just as likely to see a national chain restaurant like Popeye’s, McDonalds, or the like serving up the same old food you can get anywhere. (I loved the strawberry pie at the 76 truck stop at Wildwood.)

I bet even Mavis at the Old Home Filler Up and Keep On Truckin’ Cafe is riding a rocking chair in an old folks home.