Main Street

I drove down Main Street in Belle Plaine late Friday afternoon to say good-bye to an old friend of the family. Even though much has changed since I left there over thirty years ago, I can still see the old town and remember how it was. As I pulled off the highway, I thought of the café that shared space with a gas station.

I remember four full-service gas stations: Standard, Texaco, Skelly and Sinclair. There was no such thing as self-service. While you stayed in the car, the gas tank was filled, the oil was checked, the windshield was cleaned, and the tires were visibly inspected for pressure.  The stations had a garage with a mechanic on duty – often the same guy who pumped the gas, and if he was not too busy, he would vacuum the interior of your car after it was serviced

One of my favorite stops with Dad was the Sinclair station. I never sat in the car when we pulled in there, because Dad would get out and talk with Louie Lieske, the proprietor. While Dad talked I played on the big green dinosaur in front of the station. Dad and Louie had an easy way with each other; their conversations were snappy and filled with laughter, and it made everyone around them smile.

The trademark logo for Sinclair Oil was a green brontosaurus, and one day Dad brought home an inflatable one. I don’t remember how big it was, but it was big enough to support a small boy in a lake. I don’t know if Dad purchased it from Louie or if Louie just gave it to him. I suspect it was a gift, a thank-you for Dad’s friendship and patronage.

Louie was generous in other ways too, especially with his time. He was a volunteer fireman, and he spent four years as chief. I used to see him at the fire station, which was just a block and half from our house.

As the town grew, so did Louie’s participation. He owned several businesses and served on several civic organizations. For over forty years he was on the board of directors of The Lutheran Home Association, with four years as its CEO. Ironically, he worked all those years to make it home for others, but never stayed there himself; Louie died at his own home instead of at The Home.

The last time I saw Louie was a couple weeks ago at a football game. We sat and talked in the rain while he watched his grandson play and I watched my son, Nathan, coach. He got to know Nathan when Louie was driving bus and Nathan was a student teacher at the Belle Plaine schools. Three generations of Kucera men (my father, my self and my son) connected with Louie. I never met anyone else who had Louie’s ability to make friends so easily. I suspect many people considered him their best friend. That kind of guy never goes out of style.

But things change, they don’t stay the same. Almost one hundred years ago the book “Main Street” was published. The fictional book is about Gopher Prairie, an ugly little town filled with unhappy, short-sighted people. Ignoring the difference in years, I think the book would have had a different slant if the author, Sinclair Lewis, had stopped at Louie’s Sinclair in Belle Plaine (which means beautiful prairie).  He would have seen what I saw, a great little town because of men like Louis Lieske.