No one ever taught Rastus to talk. He just imitated, and he did it very well! My brother Mark, who was four years old at this time, was always wandering off somewhere, and Mother was always calling for him. Was it any wonder that the first words Rastus spoke were, "Mark, Mark!"? Later, you couldn't tell who was doing the calling, so Mark, to be on the safe side, would come running home.

Rastus' second phrase was, "Joel, get up!" Joel, being a true teenager, was always having to be called! At first, it sounded kind of cute hearing Rastus, as he was perched on the railing of the outside balcony, squawk, "Joel, get up!", but eventually it got to be a pain! Especially at 5 o'clock in the morning, in the middle of summer, with nothing between us and that noisy crow but a screen door! In the morning there was always evidence of a few lost tempers scattered on the ground below, such as shoes, rolled up socks, newspapers, pillows, and anything else that could be found to throw at the little pest!

The third words Rastus learned were, "Bad boy!" I'm not too sure how he came up with them, but with a four year old in the house, I can just about guess!

One of our favorite tricks to play on Rastus was to hide behind the house or one of our many large trees on our property, and watch as Rastus hid his new found treasures or some food that he didn't eat. When he had buried them, he would fly to the top of his favorite evergreen, and then we would dash out and begin to dig up his treasures. Rastus would fly out of that tree in a frenzy, squawking, "Bad boy, bad boy!" with his feathers all ruffled and his black eyes flashing.

I'll never, as long as I live, forget the Sunday morning when a "not-too-sober" gentleman staggered out of the tavern looking for his car. Rastus, as usual, was perched in the top branches of his favorite tree. Suddenly, the words, "Bad boy, Bad boy!" came echoing from "somewhere up above." The tipsy fellow stopped in the middle of Main Street, and with eyes looking heavenward, simply muttered, "OH, my god!" As a car swayed out of town at a surprisingly fast rate, Rastus was still hollering, "Bad Boy!" I don't recall ever seeing that same guy in town again, and I often wonder if those "words from on high" changed his ways!

Looking back, I don't believe Rastus even realized he was a crow. He took it for granted that he was "just one of the kids"! Oh, sure,

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he could fly to the top of the evergreen, the place he called home, but, whenever he wanted to go anywhere, he walked! Suddenly, he would alight from the tree, walk down our front steps, hop across Main Street, and proceed to waddle down the pool hall hill, to do, heaven knows what, heaven knows where! There were always traces of Rastus' destructive nature being brought to our attention. Margaret Hansen would walk up to our house and present my mother with a handful of tulip tops that Rastus had snipped off. "Just the tops!" Margaret would say, "All I have left are stems sticking up in the ground!" Eddy Dahleen's car had scratches all over the roof where Rastus, for some reason or other, had decided to parade! Little pieces of his mysterious outings were always being called to our attention. This was now starting to create a problem.

I think Rastus "irked" my sister Peggy most of all. They both had quick tempers, so it was no wonder that when their paths crossed you got out of the way! I'll never forget the sight those two made one summer day! Peggy was running all around the evergreen tree, swinging a broom and letting loose a few choice words, and there was Rastus, always one step ahead, with one of her brassieres dangling from his beak! This was another bad habit Rastus had. How he loved to snip the clothespins off the clothes as they hung on the line! Then, when they fell to the ground, he would pick up the clothes in his beak and drag them all over the place! It was always so embarrassing to have to go retrieve some of our "unmentionables" from in front of the tavern, where, for a reason known only to Rastus, he decided to dump them. Usually there were two or three men sitting on the bench in front of the tavern watching the whole charade and snickering behind their hands!

I believe the funniest thing that ever happened involved Rastus and my mother. Mother decided one warm evening that we should have a picnic supper outside. How my mother loved eating outside, and how my father detested it! Anyway, Rastus, of course, was hopping around, mingling with the family and looking for handouts. Mom decided it was high time that Rastus learn some "cute" things, such as, "pretty bird," or "pretty boy." So Mom got down on her hands and knees, looked Rastus directly in the eyes and proceeded to repeat over and over, "pretty bird, pretty boy!" Rastus, on the other hand, stared right back at Mom, and stood ruffling his feathers and garbling in some incoherent manner! There they were in the middle of the yard for all the world to see! Suddenly we heard something, and looking around, there stood a salesman taking in the whole thing! He merely looked at us, with pity in his eyes, turned around, walked back down the steps, got in his car and drove away! Dad always did say Mom could sure get rid of salesmen!

Eventually, the shenanigans of Rastus, the town pest, became too many to overlook. We had to face the fact that some of the things he was doing were causing friction between us and the people in the community. Mom and Dad looked around for an alternative to having him destroyed and finally were able to place him with some sort of wildlife association. The last we heard, he was going to be placed in a cage somewhere where people could look at him and admire his intelligence. Ha! If I knew Rastus, he talked himself out of that cage business!

We never did see our little feathered friend again, and our entire family, yes, I believe even Peggy, will always remember him with fondness. I even think the people of Aspinwall will have to admit he was quite a bird!

Mother is gone now, and I'm sure Rastus is, too. And, I know this may sound a little crazy, but, once in awhile, when I'm really thinking about things, I can almost picture a large, slightly lop-sided evergreen standing in the middle of a beautiful, golden meadow somewhere in that great beyond. I can see mother, stretched out, leaning against the trunk of that tree, having one of her beloved picnics. And, if I listen very hard, and imagine very carefully, overhead, sitting in that evergreen, I can see something small and black. And then, ever so quietly, but nonetheless audible, I hear a rather raspy voice calling to Mom from somewhere on high, "Mark, Mark," "Joel, get up," "Bad boy, bad boy!" Ah, memories!

Page 141

Aspinwall Has its Share of 'Bad Times'
In a song popular in the early 1980s, Kenny Rogers sings "We've had some good times; lived through some bad times..." He could be singing about Aspinwall's first 100 years.

The "good times" have been enumerated throughout this book: business successes, clubs and other social gatherings, school friendships. The "bad times" aren't so easy to discuss, but have to be included to make our historical record complete.

There were bad times resulting from acts of nature which people had no control over, and unfortunately, there were bad times stemming from man's hurt to another. And Aspinwall, like every other rural community, has faced the economic bad times of the Depression, of people migrating to the city, of the loss of the railroad.

There was sickness that resulted in quarantines for families: we have heard of a whole family being "wiped out" by a disease such as diphtheria or scarlet fever. Whooping cough, pneumonia, and tetanus could also take its toll in the days before modern medicine. Nearly every family lost at least one child before the baby reached adulthood; often, the burial was held in a grove on the family farm. One family is to have been buried in the corner of a field before the opening of the Iowa Township Cemetery, where the bodies were later said to be interred.

There were wind storms, hail storms, snow storms, and drought. One particularly severe storm was the tornado of Sunday, March 23, 1913, which was commonly called the "Easter Tornado." It first struck Omaha on that Easter day, then roared into southeast Crawford County in the evening. Aspinwall itself was not touched, as the tornado seemed to run a course more to the west of town and then headed northeast. Two miles west of Aspinwall, the farm of Herman Nagel was severely damaged; with the house and all buildings in shambles and the entire farmyard littered with debris. At the home of Fred and Clara Lohrmann, the windmill tipped over and the schoolhouse, located nearby, was blown 80 yards. Also in the direct path of the tornado were the Paul William Jahn and William Wunder farms, with most of the farm buildings destroyed.

At the Hayes Township No. 8 schoolhouse one mile south of the Five Mile House, the force of the wind turned the building a quarter turn around. The building had been facing south and ended up facing west. Classes were held at a nearby home until the end of May, with about 15 children attending. Some say the school was rebuilt; others say the building was left intact, a basement added underneath, and classes resumed there in the fall ... the steps still facing the south as a grim reminder of the power of nature.

ODDS AND ENDS
I distinctly remember the Easter tornado in 1913 for it struck our farm. The chicken house with setting hens in it blew away, as did the wash house, and the dog was tied in the wash house. It also blew the porch off the house.
Katie Rowedder, age 81, when interviewed for the Denison Bulletin, August 22, 1963

ODDS AND ENDS
Hayes Township News: Detlef Wiese had 20 hogs smothered last week; they were insured by the new Stock Insurance Company.
Denison Newspaper, February 5, 1886

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The Easter Tornado of 1913

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FIRES, FIRES, AND MORE FIRES
No pioneer town, with buildings nearly all constructed out of wood and lighting done with candles and lanterns, was immune to fire. One of our first reports of fire was believed to have taken place in late 1901: the fire was even reported in the Des Moines Register. "Fire at Aspinwall southeast of Denison in Crawford County destroyed a business block Sunday night. A hotel, garage, pool hall, dance hall, and barber shop were destroyed. The loss is estimated at $15,000. The Manning fire department was called but there is no water in Aspinwall for fire protection. The fire apparently started in the barber shop. A dance was to be held in the hall that night."

We believe this fire was on the east side of Main Street, with the dance hall located on the north corner where the Aspinwall Opera House was later built; that the "garage" was a livery barn connected either with the dance hall or hotel; that the hotel was located about where the Schilling Machine Shop is today; and that the barber shop and tavern were probably together in a building in between the hotel and dance hall.

The general store, now owned by Wallace Schroeder, was twice lost to fire. In 1916, the old wooden store and the machine shop to the south went up in flames, bringing in sightseers with their horses and wagons from at least 10 miles around. The Ehrichs Brothers, owners of the store, temporarily moved the headquarters into the tavern up the street and rebuilt a large brick building which served both. as the machine shop and general store. Early in January, 1947, it too was in flames. A shortage of water and a stiff wind handicapped firemen who came from Manning and Manilla, but they were able to save half of the building because of the brick partition down the middle. Lost were the grocery store and post office; saved was the former machine shop which had been turned into a cream station/poultry store and warehouse. The businesses were switched, and today the post office and general store remain in the machine half of the building.

When Pete Siem bought the wooden saloon building up the street from the general store in the late 1910s, he built a house next to the saloon to serve as a post office for his wife Elsie, who had been named postmistress. Both the house and saloon burned down February 25, 1925, recalls Arnold Brus. He distinctly remembers the date because his parents were celebrating their 20th wedding anniversary at the Opera House a block to the north. The Siems then bought the Opera House and adjacent home, and seven years later, were burned out again. The Siems then moved to Manning.

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The Opera House fire occurred in the spring of 1932. The blaze could be seen as far as farms two miles away.

Even the school house had a small fire in the 1920s, when the stove was banked for the night and it got a little too hot. The hose cart was put into operation, and one man badly sprained his ankle running up the steep hill to the school.

Fires on the farms were just as frequent, and perhaps even more severe. Fire fighting equipment generally had to be brought from Manning, Manilla or Westside, and there was usually no hope for saving a building once a fire had been spotted. Attention was therefore directed to saving other buildings on the farm, but sometimes even that was unsuccessful. At the Harry Wunder farm two miles north of Aspinwall, a fire in the spring of 1931 destroyed the hog house, corn crib, chicken house, and garage, leaving only the house and barn. A few years later, lightning struck a barn which had been rebuilt and it too burned to the ground.

The barn on the Chris Brandt farm is the third one built there; the first two burned. Barns at the George Knott farm west of town, at the Nissen farm south of town, at the Freddie Ehlers farm north of town, and at the Roland Meeves farm northeast of town have also been destroyed in fires throughout the years; often the barns contained cattle, hogs, or fine teams of horses, which were lost as well as hay, straw, and farm implements.

IS THERE NO END TO THE FIRES?
During a 20-year period, from about 1910 to 1932, the Aspinwall area seemed to have even more fires than would normally occur in a town of this size. Remembering back, people say the facts surrounding these fires got stranger and stranger until finally, October 9, 1932, a businessman and resident of the community was charged with "attempting to defraud an insurance company." In his confession, John J. Uselding admitted that he had set on fire his house and three other buildings at his farm south of Aspinwall.

Mr. Uselding was never charged with arson in the series of fires which began shortly after he purchased his first home in Aspinwall, and so we'll probably never know if he was, in fact, guilty as rumored or merely a victim of circumstances. Although 50 years have passed since he signed that confession, memories about the fires and the man are as clear as if they happened just yesterday.

Mr. Uselding came to Aspinwall to manage the lumber yard, and he proved to be such a success at the job that he was later named manager of the elevator as well. He evidently was a popular sort of fellow, willing to help out where needed, and served on many civic organizations. He was named Aspinwall's second town clerk, in late 1914, and served the job for more than 15 years; he worked as a volunteer for the Red Cross and "every type of organization you can imagine."

He came to town with an old Model T coupe and a small son, and rented a home. He was later married to a gal from Manilla, and they had two daughters. They purchased a home, "and that was the moment the fires began," one of his neighbors recalls.

The house burned; jewelry was scattered around the houseyard, looking like robbers dropped the jewelry on the way out of the burning building. The family's clothes, luckily, were all at the cleaners. A house was rebuilt on the lot, but it too burned; the family then purchased the small farm to the south of Aspinwall and moved there.

Mr. Uselding continued working for the lumber yard and elevator and is remembered as being very knowledgeable about the businesses, especially the lumber business. He knew the kinds of wood, dimensions, what was in stock, and how much it would take to build a barn, house, or whatever. Sales soared the years he worked as manager of the two firms. Unfortunately, the businesses too were hit by fires; the elevator burned to the ground in about 1914 when Mr. Uselding was out of town; it was rebuilt. A few years later, the lumber yard burned; it too was rebuilt. Mr. Uselding remained manager of both.

Looking back from today, it appears that no one guessed that there may be a connection between all the fires during that time ... at least, not until the family moved to the farm and the barn burned. One woman who visited afterwards said she had seen barns burn before, and the animals were never found like those in the Uselding barn, all laying peacefully in their stalls. Mr. Uselding was said to have called the insurance agent to report that the animals were beginning to smell, and he was given the go-ahead to bury them.

September 23, 1932, John had gone to Omaha and the family was visiting in Jefferson. Shortly after midnight a large barn, the chicken house, garage, and their new home burned to the ground. Newspaper reports say that Crawford County Sheriff Greene became suspicious after learning that the farm had been purchased in 1928 but that the second payment had not been made and a second mortgage was taken out; new buildings had also been erected and were heavily insured, Greene pointed out. Others said the suspicion came when the dead animals were again found lying in their stalls, more like they had fallen asleep than had been killed in a fire; instead of being allowed to bury the animals, this time Uselding was told to leave the animals for inspection by insurance agents, who reportedly found bullet holes in their heads. Still others remember that the proof of his guilt came because of a simple

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speeding ticket; the confession stated that Mr. Uselding had taken the train to Omaha, rented a car and driven back to Aspinwall where he set the fires, and then drove back to Omaha. He was caught in Council Bluffs for "fast driving," taken to the police station, and after proving that he had rented the car legally, was released and continued on to Omaha, where he stayed overnight.

Whatever the reason, state officials took Mr. Uselding to Denison "in hope that they might wring a confession from him. Early in the afternoon they became discouraged and gave up the case, but Sheriff Greene took the man into his office and three hours later had the confession signed," reported the newspapers. By nine the next morning, Mr. Uselding had appeared before the judge, plead guilty to the charge of attempting to defraud an insurance company, and at 10 a.m. was on his way to Fort Madison to start serving a five year sentence.

The confession was printed in newspapers, and specifically outlined his steps in setting the home and barns on fire. No mention was made of the other fires, although the newspaper article did point out that "Sheriff Greene also learned that this was the third Uselding home that had been destroyed by fire and that Mr. Uselding had collected insurance on two elevators, two cars and a lumber yard." As far as we know, he was never convicted for any other fires, and in fact was paroled before finishing the five-year sentence.

The rumors still persist. Some say that during each of the home fires, the Uselding family clothes were at the cleaners; even Mrs. Uselding's fur coat had not been at home. Mrs. Uselding was said to have canned a lot of chicken in 1932, but had stored it all at her parents' home. The children's toys were at their grandparents' house as well, according to the stories.

At one of the business fires, a crowd had gathered to see the ruins, and Mr. Uselding is said to have told people, "I wish I had a quarter for every person coming to see this." Another fire was reportedly set by a time clock device, and that John happened to be coming through Aspinwall on the train just as the building went up in blazes. When the lumber yard burned, John's new car was parked in the through-way, and although one of the Aspinwall men tried to pull the car from the flaming building, the brakes were set too tightly and the car was lost, too.

Some people say Mr. Uselding was caught after fire #13; others say he was a scapegoat, and after confessing to one fire, "he was blamed for every fire we've ever had in these parts"; still others say the fires were accidental and that Mr. Uselding was a victim of a very strange set of circumstances.

AND TODAY ...
There have been several farm fires in the Aspinwall area in the past few years, but Aspinwall itself hadn't had a major fire until the fall of 1981, when the Crawford County Maintenance Building burned. Also lost in the $63,000 blaze were a grader, pickup, tools, and other equipment owned by the county.

ODDS AND ENDS
My mother, Mrs. Hubert Lamp, was caught in a terrible storm July 23, 1936. Mrs. Eliza Soll, mother of Mrs. Frank Meggers, was being buried, and mother decided to stay at the Meggers' farm to prepare the afternoon lunch for the returning relatives and friends. During the lunch hour a fast storm approached and mother caught a ride home with Eddie and Irene Meggers. They drove as far as the William Anthony farm, where the storm forced them to stop. She continued on foot. Dad, who had gone home to do the evening chores, saw mother trying to face the storm. She would throw herself on the ground occasionally to escape the wind, so he began walking down the lane to assist her in getting home. By the time they reached the house all of mother's clothing had been torn to shreds, and the force of the wind, rain and blowing sand had caused her entire right side to bleed. She was barely alive.
Lucille (Lamp) Boell