Yerington Stories: The Yellow Box

Yerington Stories: The Yellow Box   by Chere L Brown

Brothers -- I had two.  They were as different as salt and pepper. No they were not black and white, but in flavor they were distinctively unique.  The room they shared illustrates their differences. One side was very neat.  The bed was made neatly.  All the clothes were picked up and hung in the closet or folded perfectly in his dresser drawers.  This side belonged to my brother Dan. Dan was eighteen months younger than me and eighteen months older than our youngest brother.  He was a perfectionist from birth and would go bonkers when things were out of place.  That is why sharing a room with his younger brother was pure torture for him.  On the other side of the room was an unmade bed, covers tossed on the floor.  Dirty clothes lay everywhere. Books and a half filled glass of kool-aid and partially eaten ketchup sandwich covered the bed stand.  This side was my brother David’s.

At one end of their bedroom was a large four drawer dresser.  The top two drawers were Dan’s and the bottom two belonged to David.  A peek inside their drawers revealed the same differences.  Everything in Dan’s was perfectly folded and categorized.  David’s on the other hand were partially bare, because most of his clothes were on the floor or under his bed, unless I had just finished washing and had replenished them.

Their personalities and temperament were

also at opposite poles. Both were middle children.  Middle children either learn to negotiate well or become the “lost child” who can never find their place.  Dan had learned to be a great negotiator.  He was industrious and at times a clown depending on the need.  He was popular and was very in tune to the latest fads.  Overall he was pleasant to be around unless you pissed him off.  He had quite a temper.  A temper that would not leave, until pay back had been accomplished.  He was patient in his revenge.  He could wait weeks to

get you back.  He’d wait so long that you would have to ask him “Why did you do that?” and he with great satisfaction would reply, “You remember when,,,?”

David, on the other hand, was a tease, but he didn't know how to stop, so would irritate people.  He was also passive aggressive.  As the “lost child” his response to anger was to shrug you off, ignore you and go about his merry way.  He hated to be “nagged” and the more you did, the more he would continue what ever behavior you were addressing. Of course he did this while smiling and displaying his cute dimples.

With these two personalities in mind I shall continue my story.

When Dan was in high school he was still small for his age.  He eventually grew to over six feet, but at the time of my story he was short and skinny.  This really bothered him, because all the popular kids were on the football team, which he tried out for, but was too small in size and weight.  He was not, however, small in spirit.  He had read the Atlas Body Building ads that were run in all the comic books of our time.  He sent off for this course and someone gave him a set of weights.  He was determined.  True to his nature, he kept these weights neatly in a homemade yellow box that he kept by the side of the dresser.  Dan was somewhat possessive about his stuff and threatened to kill anyone who went in that box or touched his weights.

One evening as I was preparing to cook dinner, Dan came stomping furiously into the kitchen fists clenched and red-faced yelling, “He put a snake in my yellow box.  You had better make him get it out of there, or I am going to kill him”.  “What!” I exclaimed.  “Show me.” I did not want to believe this.  We snuck upon the yellow box in terror.  Dan slowly lifted the lid a crack.  I was expecting a large rattlesnake to strike us, but instead I quickly glanced at a garden snake before Dan shut the lid to prevent its escape.  Now I was mad.  I hated snakes.  “Damn that David!” I exclaimed.  

David had not yet come home from his after school activities.  I returned to the kitchen.  As I pulled out the flour to bread the pork chops I was going to cook for dinner, I was trying to figure out how best to handle this situation.  I knew Dan was going to seriously hurt David, if he didn't get that snake out fast.  Yet, I knew if I asked David more than once, he would consider it nagging and wouldn’t do anything.  About this time David comes bouncing into the kitchen with his dimpled little smile.  As calmly as I could, I said. “David, Dan says if you don’t get that snake out of his yellow box he is going to kill you!”  David’s comeback was, “I can’t. I don’t have anyplace to keep it.”  My response was “Well, you’ll have to let it go then.  You can’t keep it in the house.”  David did his little shrug thing.  A sign that he was going to blow me off.  Now I was pissed off and started yelling, “If you don’t get that snake out of this house NOW, I am going to kill you.”  He looked at me surprised that I had turned into Dan and he was outnumbered and replied simply, ”Fine”.

With that he turned and headed to his room.  I set the cast iron skillet on a hot burner to meld the grease for the pork chops. As I was continued flouring the chops, I saw David with the snake around his arm walking down the hall to the front door.  His jaw was set in anger.  I breathed a sigh of relief.

A few minutes passed and as I lifted the first chop to drop in the frying pan, David startled me.  He was standing directly behind me and when I looked back to see him, he dropped his dead garden snake into my skillet.  I screamed and he laughed hysterically.  With a twinkle in his eye, he said. “If I can’t keep it, I’ll just eat it.”  I was beside myself.  I knew he was punishing me for siding with Dan.  He knew I would feel badly about the poor snake sizzling in my frying pan.  He had won!  No, I couldn’t let him win.  I screamed at him, “You are going to eat it!.  You won’t get any dinner until you do.”  As usual, he just shrugged, “I will!” and stormed out of the kitchen.

I fried his snake until it was a nice golden brown and put it on a plate while I cleaned out the pan and finished the pork chops.  When dinner was complete I called everyone to the table.  I served up the plates and set them before my brother Dan and my sister, Lexie.  Our mother was seldom home at dinner time as she worked.  To David, I served his snake.  Everyone looked at me like I was crazy, including David.  “You said you would eat that snake, now eat it” I snarled at him as Lexie gagged and Dan’s eyes bugged out.  In defiance, David cut a piece off the snake and took a bite.  He then got up and carried the fried snake outside to the garbage.  Before he returned from the garbage, I place his pork chop dinner at his place.  The dinner conversation was about how a snake tasted.  By the time dinner ended all tempers had ceased.

Yes, brothers --  I had two!

 

Lexie (age 3), David (age 5), Danny (age 7) & Chere (age 8) Picture taken in 1956, Yerington, Nevada Story occurred in 1964

Yerington Monday: Yerington Municipal Airport

Yerington Monday: Yerington Municipal Airport

In 1982, I traveled to Yerington for the dedication of the Barnett Clinic to my mother, Clara Barnett. Following the dedication, I put my daughter in the solarium so she could watch TV, while I visited with my mother in her office at the hospital.  When I returned to get my daughter, she was seizing.  She had had a stroke.  The nurses gave her the best of care, but because her condition was so complicated, UCSF sent an air ambulance from San Francisco to Yerington’s little airport to transfer her back to UCSF, where they were familiar with her medical complications.

I was hoping to go with her, but because of the weight of the equipment and medical staff, I was not allowed.  I remember standing on the runway as the plane took off.  Instead of just jetting off, the airplane was circling.  I was fearful that something had gone seriously wrong, but my mother assured me that because they had to get over the Sierra’s they had to gain more altitude in order to clear the summit.  After the air ambulance finally veered towards the mountains, my mother drove me to Reno to catch a commercial flight to San Francisco.  This was my daughter’s third stroke in three years, but as always she was my “Comeback Queen” and survived.

I have always been grateful that Yerington had a “little” airport.  It was a lifesaver for my daughter.

Yerington Municipal Airport is a city owned, public use airport located one nautical mile north of the central business district of Yerington, in Lyon County, Nevada, United States.

Address: 40 Airport Way, Yerington, NV 89447

Elevation: 4,378' (1,334 m)

8:00 am – 5:00 pm

Phone: (775) 463-3511

Yerington Municipal Runway

Yerington Municipal Airport has one runway:

• 5,800 X 75 ft

The runway and taxiway are well-maintained and in good condition. The runway has pilot-controlled lighting and AWOS capability.

Airport Fuel Prices

$4.98 per gallon (as of July 14, 2015) -100ll aviation fuel price at the Yerington Municipal Airport (O43).

New Hangar Cafe

Summit Air Ambulance began operating from its new base in Reno, Nevada, on Monday, March 4, 2013.  From Reno, Summit will serve hospitals and patients throughout western Nevada, eastern California and portions of southern Oregon.  The aircraft will be housed at the Reno Tahoe International Airport.

Hospitals and patients in Summit's service area will have access to Summit's Pilatus PC-12 aircraft.  These modern fixed-wing airplanes can cruise at speeds approaching 300 miles per hour, are equipped with superior safety systems and will offer another means of providing emergency care and transport for patients in this region.   The PC-12's spacious interior and large cargo door facilitate patient care and patient loading/unloading.  They are configured for dual-patient transportation, thereby expediting service in multi-patient situations.

Hangar

10,000 Square Foot hangar building located on the main taxiway at the Yerington Airport. Built in 2001, the current operation is Aircraft Painting. Other approved aviation activities/fixed base operations include: Aircraft Maintenance, Repair, Restoration & Overhauling, Aircraft Engine & Equipment, etc. 44 years remaining on excellent lease with expansion options available.

One of the planes at the Yerington Airport

One of the planes at the Yerington Airport

One of the planes at the Yerington Airport..

Yerington Stories: Why My Mom Sent Me To The Vet In Yerington

Yerington Stories: Why My Mom Sent Me To The Vet In Yerington by Chere L Brown

It was the best of times; it was the worst of times, 1956 and 1957 were not my best childhood years. In 1956, at age 8, I came down with rheumatic fever and was on total bed rest for a whole year.  When I returned to school the next year, I was required to lay down in the nurse’s office at all recesses for the first six months of the fourth grade. I could see all the children playing on the playground and longed to join them.  When I was finally released to go to recesses, I went absolutely crazy.  I  rejoiced on every piece of playground equipment, until one faithful day when the EVENT happened.  I had waited in line impatiently to have my turn on the slide.  When I reached the top, I determined that I was not going to go down the same old boring way.  No, I was going to hang both my legs over the sides of the slide.  That was fun and different and I was well pleased, until about halfway down one my chubby little legs hit a big round bolt.  It snagged my leg and ripped a ten inch gash in my calf.  When I reached the bottom, I looked down and saw this open wound did not have too much blood but lots of tissue and fat bulging out of it.  I wanted to cry, but I didn’t want the kids to call me baby, so instead I hobbled off the the nurse’s office just as the bell was ringing.

When I arrived at the nurse’s office, before I could even say a thing, the nurse snapped at me, “Why aren’t you in class?”  I couldn’t say anything, so I just pointed to my leg.  “Oh, my God, how did you do that?”  After hearing my explanation and examining my leg, she called my mother to come pick me up.  

My mother immediately came and got me and drove me straight to the hospital where she worked (not my favorite place after a year of illness).  She took me straight to the operating room and set me on the surgery table.  She then left for a season, and when she returned she was wearing a surgical apron and gloves and was accompanied by two other nurses. At this point, she announced to me that there were no doctors available right then, as they were both out of town, so she was going to sew me up.  Total fear seized me.  It was not fear of her sewing me up, as she was a surgical nurse, but the very thought of needles was the most frightening thing in the world.  I had preferred she throw me in a pit of rattlesnakes as to approach me with the dreaded NEEDLE.

To make things worse, she informed me that she was afraid to give me anything for pain, because I had been ill and she was not sure how I might react to it.  Thus the reason for the two nurses--to hold me down.  This was a very, very bad day.  Fourteen stitches latter, I was wore out with pain and frustration, and exhausted from fighting the nurses. I was so angry with my mother, the nurses, and that stupid slide.  My mother gave me a pair of crutches and then announced, she would drive me back to school.  Did I mention that this was a very, very bad day?  “What!  What!  Did I hear her right?”  This was more than I could bear.  I threw a hissy fit.  She finally,relented and agreed to have me lay down in the nurse’s lounge until she got off work.

And so the saga continues…….

I do not know how long I had the stitches in my leg.  To me it seemed like a lifetime.  But the fateful day arrived to have them removed.  Problem was that the doctors were once again out of town and unavailable, but worse so was my mother.  She was at a hospital association convention.  So she calls me and announces, “Chere, it is time to have your stitches removed.  I have made arrangements with Dr.------ (I can’t remember his name) at the veterinary hospital on Main Street.  He will be expecting you tomorrow after school.  So go right there and don’t lolly gaggle.”  I tried to protest but to no avail.

The next day, I dreaded the vet visit all day.  And I talked to myself a lot, “Who ever heard of sending a person to a vet?  Does she think I’m a dog?  Does he even know who to treat humans?  I’ll probably leave with fleas!”  I was so ashamed, I did not want my classmates to know where I was going.  In rebellion, I did lolly gaggle.  I was hoping he’d be closed when I got there. No such luck.  He was eagerly awaiting me.  He was pleasant enough, but the whole time had a little smirk on face, like he was quite amused at this event.  He sat me on one of the examining tables. He gloved up and pulled out a pair of scissors and a pair of tweezers.  Rythmatical he pull the stitch up, snippid the stitch, and pulled it out.  “How many stitches do you have?” he inquired.  “Fourteen, four inside and ten outside.” I answered.  “The four inside will dissolve on their own,” he informed me.  “Help me count.  We’ll take out the ten outside ones.”  The tug of each stitch coming out didn’t seem so bad.  I think he had me count to distract me a little.  I rather like this vet.  But I still wasn’t going to let my siblings or classmates know I was treated by the vet.  Not until today, that is.

Yerington Stories: Ice Inspection At Perk’s Slough

Yerington Stories: Ice Inspection At Perk’s Slough 
by Chere L Brown

The most exciting word in high school was “party”.  Yes, this word would send a buzz like a lose bee down the halls of our school. The excitement built as it traveled in a humming hush which the adults must not overhear.  “Where will it be, who will be there, how can I get there,  what will I wear?”  Now, two of the biggest

Sue & Danny Acting Out

party animals I knew were my younger brother, Danny, and my best friend, Sue “Hot Lips” Hatton.  So at noon time one February 1965 day, just as I was hanging up my waitress apron at John’s Cafe (where I worked during lunch hour) in preparation of returning to school, Danny came to me.  He was all excited and demanded, “Chere, take me out to Perk’s Slough.”  Why?”  I inquired. “I need to inspect the ice to see if it is hard enough to have an ice skating party tonight”  Oops, there was that word “party”!  Sue who had been waiting to walk with me back to school was all over it now.  “Yeah, Chere, take him.  I want to go with you guys.”

I did not have a car in high school, but I would often “steal” my mother’s Chrysler

Newport station wagon when she was out of town on business.  This happened to be one of those times and Danny knew it.  If I didn’t do as he asked, he could tell on me when she got back.  I questioned further.  “We’ll miss class.  What will we tell them?”  Danny rationalized, “We’ll just be a little late, Chere.  It’s only fifteen minutes out and fifteen minutes back.  We’ll only be late for one class.”  “Yeah, come on Chere, let’s go!” Sue pipes in.

So we pile into the wagon, Sue and I in the front seat and Danny in the back.

 There was no room in the front seat for Danny because the middle was taken up our purses and by my rolls of toilet paper.  I had a terrible cold.  I had never been to Perk’s Slough, but my brother obviously had.  He knew exactly where we were going. (the little party animal that he was).  Mom’s blue battleship floated down the highway, sailing along to discover new lands.  Sue was singing the latest hit to the radio, Dan was pointing out directions and I was blowing my nose almost non-stop. 

Perk’s slough was out on the Mason Valley Wildlife Refuge.  In other words out in the sticks.  As we approached the slough from the back seat, Danny yelled “Stop!”.  “”Why, I don’t see the slough.” I questioned as I pulled to a stop at the top of a little knoll.  Danny flings open the back door and commanded me.  “Stay here, I want to make sure the ground is hard enough for the car.” Sue and I watch him walk quite a ways towards the slough.  Then we looked at each other and I said, “I’m not walking that far to see the slough are you?”  “Hell no!” she exclaimed. 

With that, I revved up the wagon and gunned it.  At the sound of the car reve, Danny turned around and like an airplane flagman began waving his arms frantically and yelling, “NO, NO, NOOOOO!” Too late, the car sunk into the mud spinning wheels and all.  Danny came running back to the car in a rage. He rounded the car in an Indian war dance, yelling and cursing me out.  Finally, he decided to try and push us out.  No luck.  I decided I would try and help him push.  I could barely get the door open we had sunk so far in the mud.  When I stepped out, I sunk down to my knees.  The mud oozed into my pantyhose (we wore dresses to school back then).  Sue sat with pursed up lips and refused my pleas to help push.  She wasn’t going to get dirty and besides it was too cold.

When Dan and my energy was well spent to no avail, Danny decided he would be the hero of the situation and run back to town to get some help.  I was worried about him as the afternoon wind was getting colder and he only had a light jacket on.  His hands were freezing from trying to push the car.  I decided that I would wrap his hands in toilet paper to try and keep them warm.  And so off he ran in his TP mittens.  I figured it would take him a few hours to get to help if a bobcat or wolf pack didn’t eat him.

It was freezing, so I would turn the heater on for a few minutes at a time to conserve gas as it was getting low.  My muddy nylons dried and caked to my legs as my nose continued to run which I wiped on my coat sleeve.  I looked like hell, but my “best” friend did not have a hair out of place.  She sat like a princess on her thrown commanding when to turn the heat back on.  My resentments were growing with each sniffle.  After about 20 minutes, I looked in the rearview mirror and saw a jeep coming.  I jumped out to try and flag it down.  To my surprise and relief Danny jumped out with discarded toilet paper mittens.  He had run into the game warden.  Fortunately, his jeep had a hoist and was able to pull us out of the mud.

We hurried back to Yerington, washed the car down and rushed back to school just in time for

last period. I forget what excuse we gave for our tardiness because

I had another crisis.  I needed to raise some money for gas as the car was almost empty and when Mom go home she would surely notice.  I decided to panhandle my classmates for “a worthy cause.”  I did not dare tell them why as in a small town word spreads like wildfire and my mom could know before she even got back home.  When I finally reached $2.50, I put ten gallons of gas in Mom’s car and parked it in her driveway.  My mother was none the wiser and I felt I had gotten away with murder. 

Thirty years later while Dan & I were reminiscing with my mother about Yerington days.  I decided to come clean on this story and tell her.  “Oh, you stinkers,” she exclaimed.  “I chewed the mechanic out for always blaming you kids for all my car problems.  I had to have the power steering repaired and he said, ‘But Mrs. Barnett the whole under carriage is encrusted in mud.’  I just figured he didn’t want to do the repair.”

(Note:  I never did party at Perk’s Slough or see Perk’s Sough.  Now I hear that Perk’s Slough is no longer there.  I do have it on the greatest authority of YHS partiers that Perk’s Slough did exist and was a great party spot.)