PEA RIDGE — Sometimes, as I do myself, my mother used to tell of things she remembered from her growing up days.
Mother was born in 1916, so most of her early memories came from the 1920s and early 1930s. Sometimes she would recall what she called the Hoover Days, the beginnings of the Great Depression of 1929. People learned to conserve, to take care of things and make them last, and so on. Some of her memories were grim, recalling what people had to do without, how they and most of their neighbors were “as poor as Job’s turkey,” and so on. But, interestingly, many of her memories involved fun things, good times together, despite the Great Depression.
Several of mother’s stories involved the Model T Ford, their first family car. Even though her dad, my Grandpa Clement, was much attached to the era of horses, he did eventually come to buy and drive a Model T. This was in the late 1920s, when mother was a young teenager and ambitious to drive a car herself. Mother was fascinated with driving, liked to watch people handle the car, and would “drive in her head” as she watched.
Eventually, Grandpa did let my mom drive, but my story now comes from back when she was still just wishing.
Some people may remember that back in the 1920s and earlier, Eureka Springs was a resort town, a vacation destination, famous for springs, hotels, baths, parks, entertainment and other attractions. My mom’s family from time to time would take the driveover to Eureka Springs in the Model T. I’m sure they couldn’t compare to the Jed Clampett clan, but it must have been a fascinating sight to see six people packed into the Model T’s modest seats and the little 20 horsepower four-cylinder motor chuck-chuckchuckling along at 25 miles per hour, going to Eureka.
Mother’s family lived north of Bentonville. I never thought to ask exactly what route they took to go to Eureka back in the ’20s. It may be that they drove east to our Bentonville highway on what we now call Price Coffee Road, passing the Valley View Schoolhouse, then taking Sugar Creek Road east to Brightwater.
Back then Arkansas Hwy. 72 didn’t exist as we know it, and none of the roads were paved. Sugar Creek Road would have been a main road between Bentonville and Pea Ridge and between Bentonville and Brightwater. From Brightwater, they would have taken Old Wire Road north to Elkhorn Tavern, then east to Garfield, north to Gateway, and east again into the Carroll County hills.
It was in those Carroll County hills that mom’s story worked itself out. As you may know, steep hills and Model T Fords didn’t get along well. First, 20 horsepower means that you are underpowered for hill climbing. Second, the Model T’s fuel system was a gravity-fed system, with the gas tank located above and behind the motor or under the driver’s seat. If you were a little low on fuel, and you started up a steep hill, the gasoline wouldn’t drain down to the carburetor; so your plucky little engine would starve out and die. Either you had to fill up, or turn the car around and back it up the hill. Third, the Model T had only two forward gears.
The Model T’s transmission, based on a planetary gear cluster that would later serve in many automatic transmissions, was operated by three floor pedals, a reverse pedal, a low pedal and a high pedal.
Now none of these Model T features worked very well for my grandpa’s driving style. Grandpa’s driving was OK for ordinary roads, but he never learned hill-climbing. On a hill with the motor lugging down, Grandpa would never make the downshift into low. So, the little motor just lugged down, gasped and stalled. Once Grandpa killed the motor, my mom and Uncle Charles had to jump out and grab rocks to scotch the wheels so the car wouldn’t roll back. Then Grandpa would retard the spark lever, set the throttle and walk around front to “crank ’er up” again. Handcranking a Model T, before electric starters, was adangerous business. The little motor was notorious for kicking back. The crank might whip backwards on you, and could break your wrist or unhinge your thumb.
Anyway, once Grandpa got the motor cranked and running, everybody would get out and push, and soon the car was moving again.
So, going to Eureka sometimes meant walking up the hill after the car. All the while, Mom was thinking, if only daddy would let me drive, I could downshift it, and the car could probably pull the hill without all this aggravation.
◊◊◊
Editor’s note: Jerry Nichols, a native of Pea Ridge, is an award-winning columnist, a retired Methodist minister with a passion for history. He is vice president of the Pea Ridge Historical Society. He can be contacted by e-mail at [email protected], or call 621-1621.
Community, Pages 5 on 09/12/2012