The Great Sand Fracas of Ames County (18 page)

W
ell, Fred, what'd you think of it?” Fred Russo and Oscar Anderson were having their regular morning coffee discussion at the Eat Well Café.

“Think of what?” asked Fred as he took his place opposite his old friend and waited while Henrietta poured his coffee.

“What everybody is talking about this morning.”

“How am I supposed to know what people are yakking about? I've been home doing my chores, catching up on work that needs doin' before one more summer slips by,” said Fred.

“The Fourth of July celebration. That's what everybody is talking about.”

“Pretty good this year wasn't it?” said Fred. “Except one thing I didn't like.”

“And what would that have been?” asked Oscar, a bit put out that his old friend didn't like everything about the celebration.

“It was the free bratwurst and beer.”

“You didn't like the free brats and beer? What's the matter with you? You goin' senile on me?”

“I didn't say I didn't like the brats and beer—they were both pretty darn good, too good in fact.”

“So what is your problem, Fred?”

“Problem was that they were free.”

“And please tell me how that could be a problem?” asked Oscar.

“If I had to pay for the brats and beer, I wouldn't have eaten so many and would have downed a few less beers. Had me a bellyache and a headache when I got up this morning. Haven't had such a thing since I was twenty years old.”

“You can remember when you were twenty years old?” asked Oscar.

“Yes, I can. In those days I may have put down a few more beers than necessary on occasion.”

“Just a few more?” Oscar was smiling.

“Yup, that's about the sum total of it—had just such a headache this morning. Kind of refreshing to experience something when you're in your eighties that you experienced when you were twenty. Kind of a good thing, I'd say.”

“Whatever it takes to make you happy,” said Oscar.

“What'd you think of the trick that our esteemed fire chief pulled with that old fire truck—it blowing up and catching on fire right there on Main Street?” asked Fred.

“Tell you the truth, I don't think any of that was supposed to happen. I think that old fire truck, even with all the work the chief had done on it, was on its last tracks and it just happened to die during the parade. Chief handled it all pretty darn good, I'd say,” said Oscar.

Both men concentrated on drinking their coffee, when Fred glanced at the new little placard that sat on their table. “Free Wi-Fi,” it said. “What is this Wi-Fi?” asked Fred, “and why do you suspect it's free?”

“Don't have a clue what that means. Expect the Wi refers to Wisconsin—must mean something about Wisconsin is free and you can get it right here in this little restaurant,” said Oscar. “Let's ask Henrietta, she'll know.”

When Henrietta came by with coffee refills, Oscar said, “Henrietta, what's this free Wi-Fi?” He pronounced each of the letters separately.

“Something new for us, people stopping by have been asking for it— especially the tourists here in town. Locals want it too. They say the only place it's available is at the library.”

“But what is it?” asked Fred.

“Well,” Henrietta began. “Wi-Fi stands for Wireless Fidelity.” She picked up the little placard sitting on the table and read, “We are pleased to provide free high-speed access to the Internet to our customers for their computer and cell phone use.”

“Geez, Fred, we could have looked at the card and we would have known what it was,” said Oscar.

“Ain't much for reading cards with small print. Eyes ain't that good anymore,” said Fred. But then he added, “But I still don't know what it is. Where do you plug into this Wi-Fi thing?”

Henrietta laughed. “You don't plug it in, it comes through the air.”

“Come through the air, huh? Well, show me some of this Wi-Fi.”

“Fred, it probably works like the radio and the TV. You don't see those signals coming through the air.”

Fred shook his head. “What will they think of next? Just can't keep up with all this stuff.”

“Gotta try a little harder, Fred. Gotta try to keep up; otherwise folks will toss us old guys into the dust bins of history.”

“There you go with that highfalutin language that I'll bet you don't even understand,” said Fred.

“Maybe so, Fred. But at least now when somebody mentions Wi-Fi we'll know what they're talkin' about.”

“Maybe you'll know, but I still don't understand how it works and why somebody would come here to get it like they might get a cup of coffee,” said Fred as he drained his cup and looked around to see if he might spot somebody using this Wi-Fi thing.

30

M
arilyn Jones had been thinking about making substantial changes to the Link Lake Supper Club. Their schedule of being open from eleven in the morning until late in the evening had been in place for as long as Marilyn had owned the supper club. Everyone had become comfortable with the schedule and it was working well.

But when Marilyn saw all the new people in town for the Fourth of July celebration and she noticed the steadily increased use of the bike trail on the former Chicago and Northwestern Railroad right of way, she began thinking. She wondered if she was missing a bunch of business from people who were not likely to stick around for a good meal and the view of the lake, but merely wanted to stop for a cup of coffee, a fruit smoothie, a protein bar, or perhaps some pastry before they continued on their way along the bike trail. When she heard that the Eat Well Café had added free Wi-Fi and it was attracting an increasing number of bike riders, she made up her mind. She called a meeting of her chef, Jonathon Frederick, and her waitresses.

“You all know how much I appreciate your hard work and dedication to the Link Lake Supper Club. We are doing well, but we can do better. I've got some ideas for some changes, as everyone in business says, ‘Unless you keep up with the times, you go backward.' We've been fortunate, especially since the recession, to increase our business a little. But I have an idea that will increase our business a lot and at the same time bring us up to date with the world.”

Jonathon wondered what she was talking about. She hadn't mentioned any big changes to him and he was the one responsible for planning and preparing the food for many years.

“I believe all of you are well aware of the number of bicyclists that pedal through Link Lake every spring, summer, and fall on the bike path. That number is increasing. These folks are a market we are missing. The number of tourists coming to Link Lake has been on the increase as well— most of these folks are from the cities, where what I am suggesting is common to them. I propose we remodel part of our dining room into a coffee bar that opens at nine in the morning and is open all day, where we serve coffee, a limited selection of fresh-made pastries, and offer free Wi-Fi. That's what folks want these days. Some coffee, a little food, and a chance to check e-mail and send messages.”

“So some of us are going to work longer hours,” said Jonathon, appearing not at all happy with what he was hearing.

“And I will make sure that everyone who works longer hours is properly compensated.”

“If I could ask,” began Jonathon, “are we doing this because the Eat Well now has free Wi-Fi and the bikers are stopping there?”

“That's partly it. The Eat Well is really not our competition, but they surely are attracting a lot of bike riders since they began offering free Wi-Fi.”

“Well,” continued Jonathon, beginning to bristle, “I'm opposed to the idea. If we include a coffee bar with Wi-Fi, we will destroy our image as a first-class supper club with a long history and a great view.”

“Our history and view won't change,” said Marilyn, a bit taken aback by her chef 's comment.

“But our reputation will. And a good restaurant's reputation is the most valuable thing it has,” huffed Jonathon.

“Perhaps,” said Marilyn, “but we still must try to keep up with the times.”

The waitstaff sat watching and listening to the exchange, not thinking it wise to express their opinions one way or another as they had to get along with both Jonathon and with Marilyn—and this discussion was shaping up as a battle between two strong personalities.

“I want you all to think about this for a few days and let me know your reactions. I'd like to start the remodeling right away so we can capture some of the late summer and fall bikers traveling through town,” said Marilyn.

“I'll give you my thoughts right now,” said Jonathon as he pushed back in his chair and stood up. His face was red and the veins in his neck were throbbing. “I think it's an awful idea. I quit.” He threw his apron on the table and stalked toward the door. “You'll have to do your own damn cooking and baking—and making coffee for these yuppie bike riders that pedal into town. Good luck with all of that.” He slammed the door when he left.

“Didn't expect that,” Marilyn said, a bit embarrassed that her staff had to witness the confrontation between her and the supper club's longtime and quite locally famous chef.

“I'll talk to him when he cools off and see if I can change his mind. I hope I will have your support for my idea—I believe it's the direction we must go if this place is to stay in business and grow into the future.” Several of the waitresses' heads were nodding in agreement.

A
s it turned out, Jonathon Frederick did not return to his former position of head chef at the Link Lake Supper Club but went to work for a supper club in Willow River, at a major competitor of Marilyn's establishment. Marilyn began advertising for a head chef, and once she began searching she learned that she should hire two of them—one to be in charge of the food for the planned coffee shop and the other, she hoped someone with a good reputation as a chef, to take over the duties for the dinner crowd that expected a better-than-average dining experience.

These staffing problems took up much of her time, so much that she had little time left to think about the new sand mining company coming to town. She didn't have time to worry about the protesters at the park who appeared every day, rain or shine, and marched back and forth with their Stop the Mine signs.

31

M
arilyn found time to meet secretly with Karl Adams, Mayor Jessup, and members of the village board to discuss further plans that Karl had for generating more community support for the sand mine due to begin operations in October.

After the Fourth of July celebration, Karl had posted on the bulletin board outside the village hall a large map of Increase Joseph Community Park showing exactly where the sand mine would be located. The plan showed how the mine would take up about half of the two-hundred-acre park, leaving the other half essentially untouched. The map did not include the Trail Marker Oak near the park entrance but did indicate the large rock outcropping that limited the access to the park and thus offered but one way in and out of the proposed mine site. Of course local people knew the park and the rock outcroppings well and knew where the special bur oak was located and realized it was in the way and would have to be taken down.

“Marilyn and I have been talking,” Karl Adams began. “She told me about the annual Trail Marker Oak Days celebration held each summer in Link Lake. The Alstage Mining Company would like to help you folks expand this event—to make it the biggest and best Trail Marker Oak Days the community has ever seen.”

“What are you suggesting?” asked Mayor Jessup, who was well aware of the irony of celebrating the Trail Marker Oak when the company planned to cut it down.

Karl went on in considerable detail outlining the several activities he had in mind to enhance the celebration, with all additional expenses covered by Alstage Mining. He suggested they hold the event on an early August weekend when the area would be filled with vacationing tourists, which would surely enhance the crowd.