Eric. E. ”Rick” Polley was born December 23, 1954 at Abraham
Lincoln Memorial Hospital in Lincoln, IL. I was one of the “first” babies born
at that hospital since it went into operation in 1954. I was told I was a
“blue” baby when born as I could not get enough oxygen. They kept me there for
2 weeks to make sure I was OK—and by the time they sent me home, the nurses had
fallen in love with me.
I was taken to Hartsburg, IL to live for the next 25 years.
I don’t remember it, but my first home was where “Nellie Behrends” lived which
was just across the street from the Methodist Church. I guess Mom and Dad
rented that place while they were having a house built across from the grade
school ball diamond—which we moved into in 1955. Dad had chosen the “Plaza”
house design which was sold by the Aladdin Company (no longer in business).
It was a pre-cut house where all the boards were already cut to size and one had to put it together. I think Dad did a lot of the work himself. I remember being told later that the house cost $8,000 and the monthly mortgage was $150. It had a full basement, and we had a dartboard down there, a ping pong table, and a Lionel “steel” train set. I spent many fond hours in the basement. Unfortunately, this basement was in a “low” area of town—and it would often flood after a rainstorm. I remember taking the broom and “swishing” water to the drains since the floor was sloped improperly. But when dry, it was a lot of fun to be in the basement. We kept our dogs and sometime our cats in the basement during a winter night. And we made a lot of homemade ice cream down in the basement during the summer time. I would start off “cranking” since I was the youngest of the “3 men” in the house. My brother would then take over—and Dad would finish up when it got really hard to turn. It was a gallon and a half container—White Mountain, of course.
Our house didn’t have a street address as there were no
streets named in Hartsburg at the time we lived there. It was difficult to tell
people from out of town how to get to our place. “turn left at the Standard gas
station and come 3 blocks, etc.” They didn’t give it street names until a few
years before I left home. My street is now called Logan Street but I have no
idea of the number. I just knew we lived between Herman & Martha Oltmanns
and Howard & Maggie Payne. The Payne kids were always over at our house as
their oldest—Lorie-- and my sister were best friends growing up. I remember that
family moving to a bigger house in the country—and that the Mom died quite
young as she had a brain cancer, I think. The one thing I remember about the
Oltmanns was that they had a hedge separating our properties—and after Herman
died, Dad always kept it trimmed. And my brother and I had to rake up the
trimmings. That hedge was long—and needed cutting frequently.
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| The 1954 Ad for the Plaza House by Aladdin (the one Rick's parents would have chosen the house from!) |
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| The Plaza House that arrived via train in Hartsburg, Illinois (Polley Home) |
It was a pre-cut house where all the boards were already cut to size and one had to put it together. I think Dad did a lot of the work himself. I remember being told later that the house cost $8,000 and the monthly mortgage was $150. It had a full basement, and we had a dartboard down there, a ping pong table, and a Lionel “steel” train set. I spent many fond hours in the basement. Unfortunately, this basement was in a “low” area of town—and it would often flood after a rainstorm. I remember taking the broom and “swishing” water to the drains since the floor was sloped improperly. But when dry, it was a lot of fun to be in the basement. We kept our dogs and sometime our cats in the basement during a winter night. And we made a lot of homemade ice cream down in the basement during the summer time. I would start off “cranking” since I was the youngest of the “3 men” in the house. My brother would then take over—and Dad would finish up when it got really hard to turn. It was a gallon and a half container—White Mountain, of course.
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| White Mountain ice cream freezer |
Dad had a huge garden. Not only did it cover half of our
back yard to the alley (the alley was non-existent as they never put it in
until later years), but he also used a vacant lot next to us for his potato
bed. His deal with the owner was that he would keep the lot mowed. Oh,my gosh,
the size of his potato bed--and we had to pick “potato bugs” off of the plants.
I can remember the washing off of the potatoes after harvesting in the backyard
with the garden hose—and then we would carry them downstairs to the basement in
buckets to store them in the “potato bin” Dad had built. Mom always canned a
lot of tomato juice.
We had a telephone, but it wasn’t a rotary dial or push
button phone. It was a crank telephone. Our phone number was 72R2. Hartsburg
had a switch board operator that handled all local and out of town calls. If
the phone rang twice, it was for us. If it rang 3 times, it was for the Paynes
next door. If you heard it ring just once, the Payne’s were trying to reach the
operator. If we wanted to reach the operator to place a call, we would turn the
crank and then listened for the operator. “number please?” she would say. I can
remember many a time someone would ask “how many rings was that?”—not knowing
if we missed a call. Hartsburg finally got “rotary” dial phones in the late
60’s or early 70’s—and our phone number was 642-5327.
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| The old crank-style phone (no numbers!) |
We didn’t have street mail delivery—but always went to the
Post Office building uptown to get our mail out of box # 14. In fact, that was our address—P.O. Box 14,
Hartsburg, IL 62643. I think the combination was CRJ. Turn the dial several
times clockwise and stop at C. Go counterclockwise past R once and then stop at
R. Then turn clockwise again and stop at J. Open the door.
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| Hartsburg U.S. Post Office, Hartsburg, IL, 62643 |
One of my fondest memories of living in a small town was
listening to the Methodist Church chimes. I think it was on Saturday night
around 6 PM, the chimes would play for the whole town to hear. I don’t know if
that meant an organist was there inside the church sending the music to the
outdoor chimes in the chapel—or whether it was automated. I’m thinking the
former. But it was always enjoyable.
The local volunteer fire department was always hurrying to
put out a fire. A siren would always go off to tell the volunteer firemen to
get to the fire house. It would stay “howling” until a volunteer fireman got
there and turned it off. One of the biggest fires I remember in town was when
the local grain elevator burned to the ground. But lots of times the fire truck
was always going out of town to some fire in the country. And, unfortunately, a
lot of times—the fire truck had to be pulled by a tractor and “pop the clutch”
to get it started. Luckily, there was Rohlfs Implement dealer across the street
from the firehouse that always had a tractor on hand. Also, the fire department
siren was the way we would learn about tornadoes coming our way. A long drawn
out “up and down” siren would signal “take cover” and then after the storm had passed--a
long siren sounded to indicate “all clear”.
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| Rohlfs Implement Company, long after the 1960's (new grain bins in background) |
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| The very dated Hartsburg Fire Deparment as seen in 2012, Hartsburg, Illinois |
My brother Bob and I delivered the Lincoln Courier newspaper
for 7 years. The paper was delivered Monday through Saturday—he took the east
side of town and I did the west side of town. We each had about 50 papers to
deliver which took about an hour—and we didn’t throw the newspaper. We tucked
the paper in between the storm door and the front door, or put it under a
brick, or in a mailbox—wherever they wanted it. Also on Saturday morning, he
and I “went collecting” for 2 hours. We collected 25 cents from each customer
for a whole week’s worth of newspapers—and paid the weekly bill to Lincoln
Courier through a money order done at the Post Office. Whatever was left
over—was our profit. Normally, it averaged about $4 per week each. I remember
being in first grade when I started delivering newspapers. At the start, I
wasn’t strong enough to carry the papers—so I pulled my wagon around town and
place a brick on top of the papers to keep them flying out by any wind. In
1964, Bob won the “Outstanding Newspaper Boy” award—and I won it in 1966. Our
customers treated us great at Christmas time—we got a lot of neat gifts.
I remember attending kindergarten which was held in the
local “home economics” classroom at Hartsburg-Emden high school where Dad
taught. I would go in the afternoon—and then Dad would come get me after school
and take me home. My grade school years were at Hartsburg Grade School—just a
few blocks from where we lived. In fact, we lived across from the grade school
ball diamond. I can remember watching baseball games held there out of our
picture window—and every so often a “home run” ball would bounce up into our
front yard. The fielder would come get it and throw back. I dreamed of the day
when I would be playing baseball there. Actually, the ball diamond was also
where the Jr. High School baseball team would practice. The ball diamond was a
great place to play with neighbor kids and our dog and cat. In fact, that is
where I watched our cat, Tiger, round up a mouse—and the darn old mouse came
towards me--and ran up my pant leg. Probably only being in the first grade, I
remember “waddling” towards home like I filled my britches—crying all the way.
Mom saw me and came out of the house running asking what was wrong. She took me
along with the cat who had followed me home—into the garage and shut the
overhead door—took down my pants and out jumped the mouse. To this day, I am
terrified of mice.
When I was ready for 7th grade, I started
attending Hartsburg-Emden (Hartem) Jr. High school which was held in the same
building as the high school just a few blocks to the south of our house. We
grade school students from Hartsburg joined grade school students from Emden in
7th grade—each bringing about 18-20 kids. I remember giving up the
newspaper route during Jr. High—8th grade I think. I remember my
first real experience with death—as we lost a classmate during 8th
grade. He had accidentally hung himself in his barn.
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| Hartsburg-Emden Junior/Senior High School, Hartsburg, Illinois |
Dad purchased the “farm”—meaning the 80 acres—in 1964 at $625
an acre. One of the first animals on the farm—was 2 shorthorn heifers—that
brother Bob and I bought from monies we made from having the paper route. We
paid $400 each for Ruby (Bob’s) and Granite (mine)—purebred shorthorns
purchased from Mike Klokkenga from Emden, IL. That started the livestock
enterprise on the farm—which meant every day we had chores to do after school.
Dad eventually bought cows of his own and also a bull—and we had full intention
of raising purebred shorthorns. In fact, one of the cows was named 1250—because
that was how much money Dad paid for it. I remember one bull by the name of
“Bellringer” because each animal had their own “papers” and they had to have a
name. I can remember Dad saying “a good bull is half the herd, a poor bull is
all the herd.” This meant that if you had “bad” stock, using a “good” bull
meant you would at least get half of the herd being something decent when the
bad cows dropped calves. But if you had both bad cows and a bad bull—the whole
herd would be bad.
I can’t remember exactly when we first started raising hogs
on the farm, but it began by me buying a sow with a litter of pigs. In fact, I
think the purchase price was $200 or $220—but Dad took me to the Hartsburg
State Bank—and I talked to the lender there about borrowing the money. I got
the loan—and opened up my first checking account and was given my first
checkbook. I made a little profit with the hogs—and this got Dad interested in
buying some gilts and a boar and going into the hog business. It eventually
evolved into Dad buying a 12-sow farrowing house—and we raised both hogs from
farrow to finish and cows at the same time. And that meant a lot of manure to
handle. Every Saturday, we cleaned out the barn.
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| The Hartsburg State Bank, Hartsburg, Illinois |
Somewhere along in there, brother Bob won a Holstein heifer,
and after she dropped her first calf—we had to start milking her twice a day. I
never did any of the milking, but Dad would wake Bob and me up at 6:00 AM—and
we would travel to the farm in the morning to feed our animals while Dad
milked. Remember, we are still living in Hartsburg—and we would have to travel
8 miles to the farm. We would then come home—strain the milk—and put in in one
gallon glass jars—and get ready for school. We sold the milk to people in
Hartsburg for 50 cents a gallon. And then after school, we would do the evening
chores. I got to know that road from Hartsburg to the farm quite well. But that
is also how I learned to drive--and drive a stick shift as well. Many a time,
Dad would put me on his lap and I would handle the steering wheel and the stick
shift, while Dad handled the pedals. Some mornings—Dad would let me sleep in
and go do the chores himself—I loved those mornings.
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| A gallon milk jar |
During high school—still living in Hartsburg—Dad bought the
50 acres in 1971. We were driving by it one time, and I noticed the “for sale” sign
in the field. The field was terribly weedy—and it was just not farmed very
well. Dad inquired—and brought Mike
Klokkenga to look at it—and Mike said all it needed was “a shave and a haircut.”
So, Dad bought it for $500 an acre—and also bought our first shredder. We
shredded the weeds and plowed it—and it produced yields almost as good as the
80 acres. I remember Dad receiving a call or visit from the Logan County
deputy—telling him to mow around the wire corn crib on the 50—because there
were marijuana plants growing there.
High School came and went and I graduated in 1973. Some of
my memories in high school included participating in both baseball and
basketball—where I won the batting trophy my junior year. I was also elected
class President my sophomore year and Vice-President my senior year. I was
crowned King of the Jr.-Sr. prom my senior year and was an attendant at the
prom my junior year. I also was an FFA member all 4 years of high school where
I served as Treasurer of the local chapter my junior and senior years—and also
won the sectional award in Agricultural Electrification my senior year.
In the summer of 1973, I bought my first car—a Ford Galaxie
500 for $500. I don’t remember what year it was—but I used it to drive to Carl
Sandburg College in Galesburg, IL where I would study electrical technology.
This college was a junior college and it was still in its infancy—as all of our
classes were in metal buildings. I actually lived at Knox College in
Galesburg—where they were allowing CSC students to stay. I would travel home
most weekends—as I still had livestock—and the barn needed cleaned out. I went
out for baseball on the college team and made it—being the starting 3rd
baseman. However, I got injured during the 3rd game of the season resulting
with a badly sprained ankle and missed the rest of the season. During my stay
there in Galesburg, I went down to Macomb with a bunch of guys to Western
Illinois University where we attended a Beach Boys concert.
My sophomore year of college found me transferred to
Illinois Central College in East Peoria, IL. I was taking more Agriculture
courses by now—and ended up with an Associate’s Degree in Arts and Sciences in
the spring of 1975. During my sophomore year, I commuted back and forth from
Hartsburg with 2 guys I had attended High School with--we took turns driving.
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| Rick next to his Ford Galaxie...with sister Becky on the tailgate. |
Not knowing what to do next or what subject matter to go
into, I stopped attending college for a year and ended up working for Ken-Ed
Electric in Lincoln, IL for $3.50 an hour. I worked there for about 7 months
and gained some valuable training in electrical wiring. I also signed up to
join the electrical union—and came to Springfield for an interview. When I told
them I had a 2 year college degree and I was ready to work—thinking that was
what they wanted to hear—I was surprised when they told me to “go finish
college and then come back and we’ll talk with you.” So, I ended up working at
Cutler-Hammer in Lincoln, IL. I was assembling electrical apparatus that I used
to wire in the field when I worked for Ken-Ed. I remember thinking “I know how
these devices are used” and felt like I was not applying myself to my fullest
potential. I applied to the University of Illinois in the College of
Agriculture wanting to major in Agricultural Mechanization—a way of tying
electrical and ag together--and found out that I needed an accounting course to
be accepted. So, I worked at Cutler-Hammer during the day—and attended night
school at Illinois Central College 2-3 nights a week in the summer of 1976. I
left employment at Cutler Hammer in August of 1976 and headed to Champaign.
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| Cutler-Hammer Plant, Lincoln, Illinois |
I found a room that fall semester at a fraternity on campus—and
I loved it there. I wasn’t a member of the frat—I just rented a room. I joined
a bowling league and took some pretty tough subjects including college physics.
That was an interesting course but one very tough course. I think I pulled a “C”
but was tickled to death to get that. I do remember that semester is when I
learned “Oscar had a heap of apples.” That applies to the order of sine, cosine
and tangent. Since sine is first, it goes with Oscar had”—opposite over
hypotenuse. Cosine goes with “a
heap”—adjacent over hypotenuse. You get the idea. I never have forgotten that
phrase. During the semester we got notice that the frat was closing and it
wasn’t going to even be available during the spring semester—I think the frat lost
its charter due to the building being in poor condition. So during the spring
semester, I stayed at Hubbard House over in Urbana, IL. I hated it there, it was
noisy. So, at the end of the spring semester, I started looking for a different
place to stay and found a family to live with for the next year. They gave me
my own bedroom—and I had the run of the house with my own cooking privileges in
the kitchen. During my senior year, I attended my second Beach Boys concert
held at the Assembly Hall. I remember leaving early, because Becky, Jim, Bob
and Lisa had come over to attend the concert with me--and Jim had to leave
early to get back to work that night as a Logan County Sheriff.
I graduated from the U of I with a B.S. degree in
Agriculture in the spring of 1978. My first job was working again as an
electrician for Love Electric in Mt. Pulaski, IL for $6.50 per hour. It was
during employment there that I had met Janet and started dating her.
We met at the 1978 Illinois State Fair on Monday, August 14th
during the evening—at a Beach Boys concert—my third Beach Boys concert by this
time. It was kind of a weird meeting-- I had actually stepped on a rake that
day while at work. And yes—it’s really true—the handle does come up and “smacks”
you in the eye. I was taken to the local emergency room in Lincoln and a patch
was placed over my eye. So, when Janet saw me for the first time that night at
the concert, I had the patch on. I was sitting several rows behind her in the
Grandstand—and Bob and Lisa were also there—and they knew Janet. In fact, Janet
and Lisa grew up on the same street in Atlanta. They told me to go down and tap
her on the shoulder and then point back to them—and they would wave at each
other. So, I did. After the concert, Lisa and Janet talked—and Bob and I
talked—and Bob said “would you like to ask her out on a date this weekend?”—and
I replied “Friday or Saturday night?” I guess Lisa was doing her own asking if
Janet was interested in me—and she had told Lisa she was.
So, I got the nerve up during the week to call Janet for a
date—and we set it up for that Saturday night—doubling with Bob and Lisa. We
ended going to a Bloomington movie theater to see “Foul Play” starring Goldie
Hawn—and then we stopped at the Dixie Truck Stop in McLean on the way back to
Atlanta for a bite to eat. I remember on the short ride from McLean to Atlanta
Janet put her head on my shoulder and I was hooked. And we had our first kiss
when I took her to the door.
Meanwhile, I kept on working for Love Electric until I was
let go in the winter months due to lack of work. Mom was in the hospital in
Springfield for something—I don’t recall—and she had been reading the
Springfield paper and told me about an “electrical” opening at a place in
Springfield called Simplex. I applied there and waited for their response. I
also went back to the electrical union and told them “I did what you told me to
do. I went back and finished my college and got my B.S. degree.”
And now I waited. And lo and behold, I received an offer
from both Simplex and the electrical union. Now what am I going to do? Do I
want an inside job or an outside job? I agonized trying to decide what to do—but
finally decided to go with the inside job of being an “indoor salesperson”
selling electrical switch gear for Simplex. They manufactured and sold “day
tanks”—which is a fuel tank for generators; and load banks that were used to put
an electrical load on generating equipment. I had my first salary job at
$13,000 per year.
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| Early Simplex products |
The day before Janet’s 20th birthday, I proposed
to her. Nothing special or anything dramatic—it was simply done in her house at
607 W. Hamilton in Atlanta, IL. She had purchased that 2 bedroom house a few
months before. After her acceptance, she made a beeline to her mom and dad’s
place just down the street. Her dad was outside and Janet must have been
beaming because I remember her dad saying “just show me your hand”—and Janet
showed her dad her engagement ring. Her dad told me after Janet went inside to
show her mom-- “she wears her heart on her shoulder.”
We were married on November 3, 1979 at Lincoln Christian
Church—with Stuart Couve officiating. We took a weeklong honeymoon trip
Disneyworld. We lived in the house at 607 West Hamilton and Buford, my dog in
Hartsburg—came with me to live with Janet (that must have been part of the
deal). Anyway, Janet was working in Bloomington, IL and I was still at Simplex
in Springfield. However, I didn’t like the long commute from Atlanta to Springfield—and
found myself wanting to get something closer to home. Being somewhat familiar
with Cutler-Hammer, I applied there to work in their testing department—since I
had an electrical background. I didn’t get that position, but was hired in
March of 1980 for $12,600—a step backwards but I was saving time and gas money
not having to travel to Springfield. Everything made in the factory required a
“routing”. This was a data sheet that described the various steps required to
build a device—along with the bill of material. The manufacturing engineers and
the industrial engineers would provide me that information—and my job would be
to prepare forms for the key punching department to “punch in” the data to make
the printed routing. During my first year there, I was promoted to a
Manufacturing Engineer with a starting salary of $16,000 and when I left 6 and
a half years later I was making a little over $23,000.
In January of 1981, Kirk was born and just 18 months later
Andy came in July of 1982. We now had 2 baby boys in diapers. Janet quit her
job in Atlanta and became a working mom at home—plus did daycare on the side. We
soon realized we had now outgrown our 2-bedroom home—and moved to a 2-story
home in Atlanta at 506 NE Fourth Street in 1984 where we stayed for 5 years.
Kirk and Andy played next door with their cousins Josh and Melissa—and Buford
played with Blackie. We soon put up a Morton garage after moving there and
Erica was born to us in September of 1985. We did boating on weekends with Gwen
and Earl during the summer months because we had purchased Earl’s speed boat
shortly after my taking a new job in October of 1986 with the Association of
Illinois Electric Cooperatives in Springfield, IL. My starting salary was a big
boost--$28,000. I had negotiated for $29,000 but did not get it when I started.
But I soon had that after my 6-months evaluation period had passed.
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| 506 NE Hamilton Street, Atlanta, IL (our second home) |
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| The Morton garage we added to our house |
However, I was now driving back and forth to Springfield
again—and this was wearing me and my car out. We put our house on the
market—and it wasn’t selling. Despite that, Janet and I would still come down
to Springfield on weekends to house hunt—and I would also hunt during my noon
hour while at work. One day during the week, I found a sign in a yard that read
“For sale or rent”—and I explained my situation that my house wasn’t selling
and I could only rent. The house was a ranch style house with lots of space and
only 10 minutes from my work.
We agreed on a rental fee—and found a renter for our house
back in Atlanta, and moved in August of 1989. Our new address was Rural Route 8, Box 142—a 1900 square foot home on the southeast side of Springfield in a
rural area—with a large yard, 3-4 bedrooms, 3 baths, and an attached double
car garage—plus another garage in the back. It was heaven for us—a much bigger
house, and close to work for me. Janet had been doing day care in Atlanta—so we
made a sign on a piece of plywood and put it out in the yard. “Licensed Daycare
call 529-6417”. Within a week, Janet had business(and she did that for many
years until our 3 kids were old enough to care for themselves after school.)
Kirk started 3rd grade later that month and Andy
started 2nd grade. Kirk’s school had a fire that summer and was
still being renovated, so his classes were held at Capital Area Vocational
Center. A school bus picked the boys up around 7:10 AM—in fact the bus driver lived
just down the road from us—and we could tell when he was leaving—since our
house was one of his first stops.
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