Editorʼs Notebook

editorʼs notebook

When I was an undergraduate and graduate student at Kansas State University in the 1960s, various business ventures dictated I return to Superior nearly every weekend. Other students learned of my regular travel and asked for lifts to and from school. Most were northern Jewell County residents but there was one girl from rural Miltonvale and occasionally a student from further into Nebraska would ride to Superior where they were met by a friend or family member to continue their trip home.

One of those riders was the late Denny Reed. He was a KSU freshman at the time and lived on a farm north of Webber. When I was in graduate school at Kansas State, he was a freshman.

In the 55 years or so since those college days, I have only occasionally spoken with Denny but we have stayed somewhat in touch via social media. Sadly, he died in October and his obituary is published in this issue.

While checking comments left by his friends on the funeral home’s website, I found the following story left by Bill Collins, a friend of mine and classmate of Denny’s.

Denny was like a brother to me when we met in high school. We enjoyed many great times together in our early years. After our 1968 high school graduation, Denny, Tom and I took a graduation celebration trip to Colorado. This was such a special time and event, Denny bought a new car (well actually a used 1953 Chevrolet) for us to drive. The car had fairly used, but still fully inflated tires, so we bought or rounded up three spare tires to take with us in case the existing tires failed. The extra tires were placed in the back seat for some reason (perhaps that year and model of car had a common trunk lid opening malfunction) and we headed west to Colorado.

We were three young guys having fun in Colorado celebrating their high school graduation together. Fun times indeed until on our third or fourth day, we discovered our motel financial fund was running short of funds. So short, we quickly realized we didn’t have enough money to cover that night’s motel room expenses.

It was a serious situation until Denny recognized a solution to our dilemma. We went into the motel bar and found a piano resting in the corner. Denny asked the bartender if he could play the piano, mentioning his musical experiences and accomplishments.

The bartender said by all means, go to it, so Denny sat down at the piano, placed an empty beer mug on top of the piano for contributions, and started playing away.

Dozens, if not hundreds of eyes and ears, quickly turned toward that piano corner, once quiet and lonely, to watch and listen to Denny’s performance. Everyone was so surprised at his talent, our empty beer mug, turned donation container, soon overflowed with enough green to cover that night’s room. I will never forget that experience with my dear friend Denny.

And many of us will remember Denny for his musical talents. He studied culinary arts at KSU but worked for many years for piano and organ companies. I suspect he was a great asset for his employers.

After reading Bill’s story on the mortuary’s page, I have wondered what happened to that 1953 Chevrolet. If it survived the trip to Colorao and back, why didn’t Denny drive it between the farm north of Webber and Kansas State University? I sold my 1954 high school Ford to a KSU student who used it commute between school and home on the White Rock. Perhaps he used his financial wisdom and determined the donation I requested for a ride was less than what it would cost to make the trip in the old Chevrolet. I think the buyer of my old Ford would have been wise to have ridden with me for at the speed she drove it could have used quarts of oil on one of the trips. I once used a quart of oil on a flying trip from home to Mankato and back.

And while I am sharing Reed stories, I have one on his mother. Betty was also a salesperson, perhaps for Avon or a similar company. I was a high school student preparing the fireworks stand when Betty appeared and asked “Is your wife in the house?”

That was probably a line she had used many times and in most instances it was appropriate. But it stunned me to think someone would think a teenager like me, was married.