Buffalos and burgers - a short tale from a long time

[RWB]

Once, I was really into Buffalo nickels. ( I called them Indian head nickels – what did I know? I was just a kid…)

 

Every summer the local Volunteer Fire Department had a carnival to raise money for equipment. Other civic groups had game booths or held raffles, but the VFD ran the big events like bingo, rides and the food concessions. My Dad was a volunteer, although most of what he did was to head to the car if the fire house siren went off and chase the engines to the scene. I often tagged along.

 

During the carnival, Dad and several of his local ex-WW II buddies cooked burgers and chicken that was sold to people attending the carnival. When I was old enough, I was permitted to take orders and sell soft drinks and food to customers. I wore a canvas change apron, so that I could make change quickly. When I got too much cash, I’d put it into the money box kept behind the grills (near where the Ladies Auxiliary ground onion and lean beef, then patted out each burger by hand).

 

I arranged my change so that whenever I got a Buffalo nickel, I put it in a small pocket on the apron. At the end of the evening, around 11pm, I would buy all the Buffalo nickels with my own money.

 

Sometime during my first year of helping at the carnival my Dad came up and asked how it was going. I told him fine. Later that night, he asked me how I handled the money and where it was put – something he already knew. At closing time, he came over and asked me what I was putting nickels on the counter, then putting them in my pocket. I told him what I was doing. He told me that one of the VFD officers thought I was stealing money, and that even though he knew it wasn’t true, he wanted to be sure I was doing things right.

 

Thereafter, each night before starting, I would give my Dad the $2 or $3 I reserved for Buffalo nickels. Also, I made sure I had no coins in my pockets – nobody asked, this just seemed prudent to me. At closing time, I would count out the Buffalo nickels I wanted (throwing back the dateless ones), and Dad would take care of settling using the money I’d given him.

 

On the last carnival night that year. One of the firemen got a little tipsy. He was a tall, imposing sort and looked bigger to a kid. He came up to me and accused me of stealing money. This was almost in front of the grill my Dad worked at, and was said loud enough that several people overheard. There was a strange “quiet zone” for a few moments. My Dad had been the commander of many of the other townsmen during the war. The line of command was invisible but still there. Dad stepped forward. Told me to take off the change apron. I did. He told me to take out my wallet and give it to the complaining fireman. I did. My Dad motioned for him to open it – it was empty except for photos and a few papers; no money. Dad told me to turn out my pants pockets. I did. They were empty. My wallet was handed back to me, along with the change apron. Nothing more was said.

 

Later, I learned that the accusing fireman though that only members should be helping. He didn’t want 11 or 12 yr old kids there except to spend money. Other members disagreed.

 

The Buffalo nickels I saved that summer held special meaning for me. They, of themselves were neither rare nor unusual, but the lessons of trust and respect that came with them were of the choicest value.

 

[thebeav]

Your dad must have had some composure .......I've got to hand it to him.

I hope you snagged a couple neat dates in your lot !!

 

As a paperboy in the sixties, I got the occasional buffalo nickel. They were usually dateless by then....

 

 

Paul

[Coindude]

Great read there Roger. When I was young, I too collected nickels, albeit there were no longer any Buffalos left. I would stash back every nickel I could find before 1960. Strangely enough, some nickels were really hard to find. I remember that the 1966 nickel, when I was completing my date run was very hard to find. I eventually found a complete date run of nickels in change, and this was 79 - 80 time frame. I even found 38's and all war nickels, not all MM though. I still have a small zip lock bag full of my childhood treasures to this day. One day my sons will have them but until that day they still have a special spot in my heart even though they really aren't worth much more than pocket change.

[123cents]

Great story. I used to collect, as a child, any early dated coins that I found in change. I occasionally found Buffalo Nickels, Mercury Dimes, and a few Walking Liberty Halves.

[RWB]

Your dad must have had some composure .......I've got to hand it to him.

 

My Dad led a bunch of men - many from the same town - building part of the Burma Road into India and China. He had to be patient and composed in those circumstances.

 

The nickels are long gone. A new kid moved into the neighborhood and he collected coins. He told me he was building a Buffalo nickel collection but didn’t have many. I offered to let him look through my duplicates and pick out ones he needed for his Whitman album. The nickels were in a big bag, loose – not rolled. I let him take the bag home. Next day he brought the bag back with the nickels nicely wrapped.

 

A few days later I looked at the wrapped coins. He had wrapped all the dateless and cull pieces in wrappers, and kept all the dated coins. His mother called me a few days later, offering to return the nickels although they were now mixed with her son’s other nickels and in albums.

 

I declined. But I did tell her than I would never trust her son (“Preston” was his first name) again under any circumstances. He proved himself equal to that label throughout high school, and I never regretted what I had learned.

 

[WoodenJefferson]

This could be a page out of my life.

 

Accept in mine, there was a huge Beer Tent center stage at our carnivals.

 

[supertooth]

Roger--- Great story and the lesson seems to come down to the word "trust".

 

These days we seem to Not be able to trust. Somewhere we seem to have lost some fundamental basic behaviors that we used to take for granted in our country.

 

Until the "truth" again replaces the lie---and we once again take responsibility for our own actions, this nation will continue to flounder---no matter who is in charge. Bob [supertooth]

[Coindude]

There has only ever been one good Preston... Preston Pearson... # 26, of my beloved Dallas Cowboys!

[supertooth]

Coindude----- I knew of a good "preston".

 

His name was Preston Keithley----an old patient of mine---a WWII vet and, until he died a couple of years ago, was the oldest graduate of VMI

 

He was quite a guy---had lots of stories to tell too. Bob [supertooth]

 

 

[tonidanzawillpay]

i these stories

[Dcoin]

Some things just never appear in history books. Thanks!