1975 To Steal a Turkey
Recently I was in a gathering where one or two old-timers were telling about times they had raided chicken coops for a private boiled chicken party. Seems like it was quite a few years ago. One of the things to do was to invite the owner of the chickens to the party and perhaps later ask him how he liked the stew.
It brought back a recollection of a story told to me many years ago about a time two then young men in Kearney decided to steal a turkey. Since everyone connected is now gone, I guess it will be all right to mention names. After all, there was not a serious offense committed and everyone came out healthy, even the turkey.
The house we have lived in for many years, that is until we acquired the trailer, was built by a man named LeHay. At one time, there were several families of that name in Kearney, mostly sons of that man. The house, now the oldest building in Kearney, was built, I believe, a couple of years before the railroad came through. That would be about 1892 or 1893. Mr. LeHay also had the first industry in Kearney, a shingle mill that stood just about where the Anderson cottage now stands. The sketch we have, made in 1896, shows the little mill with a very tall smoke stack. The area between the old house and the street was once just a bog hole, and was first filled with refuse from that mill.
The LeHays had a bit of a farm, with plenty of outbuildings. There were several sheds with connecting doors, the last one going into the kitchen part of the house. After the mill had stopped operating, half of the house, which was then a very large building, was used by another family as a boarding house, and the LeHay family lived in the other part. But Mr. LeHay had a tom turkey of which he was very proud, as it was the only male turkey in the area, and much in demand. It was well guarded and kept in the shed close to the kitchen door. The two then young men decided that they should get hold of that turkey and began making plans. These two, Bob White and Cole McIvor decided that one of them should offer to play Mr. LeHay a game of checkers, as he really enjoyed the game, and considered himself almost the champion. Then, when he would be wrapped up in the game, the other would get the turkey. Bob was to play checkers, Cole to get the turkey.
Everything went according to plan. The game got very interesting, and Bob, who told me this story, heard the door open and he knew Cole had started. Mr. LeHay was a bit hard of hearing; this they had counted on to help. Then he heard the second door open, and then a bit of a scrape as the door to the turkey pen was opened. Then the g-u-u-u-k as he muzzled the turkey.
Bob does not know what possessed him to say it, but out of the clear blue sky he simply said: “Mr. LeHay, I think there is someone after your turkey.”
Without saying a word, the old gentleman got up, reached for the broom, and headed for the back shed door, just seconds before Cole came out with a very firm grip on the turkey’s neck, said bird being almost dead.
Anyone ever seen a home-made broom? These brooms, ones that all the housewives of early days had, were made by cutting a small ironwood tree and whittling it down, or rather making slivers over a foot long, then the centre was cut off, and the wood or slivers pulled back and tied or wired so it was a very effective broom. Also, it would weigh six or seven pounds, and made a very good weapon. Just as Cole emerged from the shed, there was LeHay with the broom upraised and before he had a chance to dodge he received a blow from said broom over the head. Mr. LeHay was not a very large man, but Cole was well over six feet, and one of the most powerful men of his time. But the aim, the plenty of muscle behind it, was good and Cole was knocked unconscious. I never was told if the turkey recovered. Bob White felt he should get away fast for he knew that if Mr. LeHay ever told what happened, before Cole cooled down, he would get a severe beating. Anyway, he wanted a couple of weeks in the woods.
That was many years ago. Both men, like most of the people who came before the turn of the century, are gone. Bob White raised a family, trapped, fire ranged, and built cottages. Cole never married and worked mostly in the woods. He was the long ball hitter on the first Kearney ball team. Once he and his brother stayed at Rain Lake at Christmas time to look after the horses. After the chores were finished they walked to Kearney for their Christmas dinner and back again to do their chores at night. That would mean walking 17 miles each way. Anyone like to try that today?