It was a late-1960s era Volkswagen Beetle, but this car was not owned by any hippie. Quite the contrary. This “Bug,” and several others like it, was owned by a farming family in Kossuth County where I was born and raised.
Its orange paint was faded by the Iowa sun, but the usefulness of this VW held strong. A large iron hitch was welded to the front of this car, and it was used to hook it up to farm machinery as a way to pull the vehicle to the farm fields. This allowed the tractors and combines to stay in the fields overnight and provided the farmers a vehicle to drive home. The VWs were light, easy to pull and inexpensive to replace. As such, they were a common sight on the farms of Cecil Bjustrom and his sons in rural Algona.
As a teenager, I was employed on one of these family farms, mostly working with livestock. In the north-central part of this state, that meant hogs — and a lot of them. And when you work with hogs, you smell like hogs, despite your best efforts not to do so. Some of the farmers claimed that if you washed your hands with toothpaste, the smell would go away. It didn’t. Instead, my hands smelled like minty hog manure. I didn’t mind, as I was happy to have a job.
Back to the orange Bug. The farmer I worked for, Chuck Bjustrom, was kind enough to allow me to drive that VW to and from my house in town. That saved my personal car from the aroma of hog manure, which those who rode with me certainly appreciated. The Bug wasn’t so lucky. The scent stuck with it, so much so that my mother wouldn’t allow me to park it in the driveway. So I parked it in the street, unlocked. Nobody dared to get close enough to break into it.
This Bug had some issues. Windshield wipers didn’t work. Gas gauge was broken. Speedometer was stuck. The brakes were iffy. There were holes in the floorboards, and a 2x4 propped up the driver’s seat. The list went on, but you get the idea. Even so, that car provided me with the necessary transportation to get back and forth to the farm, and I was grateful.
Orange Beetles weren’t too popular in rural Iowa, so most people would recognize me coming down the road from blocks away. The large iron hitch was the giveaway.
I sometimes wonder where that car ended up. Rusting away in some junkyard. Restored by a VW enthusiast. Or maybe still collecting dust in the machine shed I first pulled it out of. You might not be able to see it from a distance, but I am guessing you could still smell it.
Have a thoughtful Thursday, and thanks for reading.
Shane Goodman President and Publisher Big Green Umbrella Media shane@dmcityview.com |