Helling's Holiday

Vacations for farmers in the early 70's, especially dairy farmers, were few and far between. Cows had to be milked twice a day, seven days a week. But when Stan Helling, a dairy farmer on the north side of Ft. Madison, bought a new ¾ ton, Chevy pick-up, in 1970, he told his wife, Lillian, “I wanna take that truck for a run. Let's go see your sister, Luane, in Winter Haven, Florida. The kids would love to see their cousins, and I know where I can rent a camper to slide in the back of the truck to haul the kids.” They had six kids, five of them boys, and another girl as of yet un-thought of. “I can get my cousin from New Hampton to come and stay on the farm and do the milking.” Lillian didn't have to be asked twice.

As told by Steve Helling, the next to the oldest boy, “The freeways were new then, but we mostly stuck to the two-lane highways, using maps, for sight seeing. There was a Coleman stove in the camper, and we would stop and cook meals and fight over who got to sleep in the top bunks. There was no sliding window between the cab and the camper. We communicated with Mom and Dad in the driver's seat by tapping on the window. One and two fingers for you know what. When we stopped at a gas station in Tennessee, I saw two barefoot kids, a boy and a girl, step out of the woods carrying a yoke on their shoulders with a bucket. They were getting water from the gas station to carry back to their cabin. It made quite an impression on me. We didn't have much back in Iowa, but we had running water.”

“My dad had an old Army buddy who lived in Atlanta,” Steve continues. “Dad called him from a gas station. The Army buddy told Dad, 'I'll come and get you. Whatever you do, don't get out of the camper.' I had never once been afraid of walking the streets of Ft. Madison.”

They stopped at caves and caverns. There was no Disney World yet, but they stopped at Cyprus Gardens. The gnats were so bad, that Steve was waving his arms around and knocked his dad's sunglasses off his face into the creek below. Uh-oh.

Steve and his brother were wrestling back in the camper, and his brother put his leg through a camper window. He had a gash that had to be tended to, but was good to go.

At Spook Mountain, in Florida, perhaps the most memorable experience of the trip, for Steve anyway, happened. Stanley turned the truck around backwards at the base of Spook Mountain, shut it off, and put the truck in neutral. The pick-up camper, full of the Hellings, was pulled up the mountain, backwards, all by itself. It was the darndest thing. (It's a well-known optical illusion, and a favorite tourist attraction of Spook Mountain, often experienced when driving in the mountains: the appearance of going up hill when going down.)

The Hellings had so much fun playing with their cousins, and the cousins showing them what all there was to do in Florida. Of course, Steve's mother had a wonderful visit with her sister. When it was time to go, it was quite emotional to have to leave their family.

Back on the farm in Ft. Madison, Stanley's cousin was getting along fine with the milking, except when there was a cow to breed. The Holstein bull took after Stanley's cousin, running him over a fence. Stanley's cousin didn't know he could move so fast.

The 30-some Holstein cows lined up as usual in the holding pen twice a day, waiting to be milked. There was a pecking order, with the boss cow in the lead heading for the four-stall milking parlor. The cows knew there was feed to be had after their milking. Life on the farm had gone on as usual. It was good to be home.

Have a good story? Call or text Curt Swarm in Mt. Pleasant at 319-217-0526 or email him at curtswarm@yahoo.com. Curt is available for public speaking.