More on Paul Nass - this is long but worth it.

As I attempted earlier with no success, more on Paul Nass:

When Dan and I were little kids, we ould often visit Paul Nass at the what i now refer to as the "Big White Barn." It had "Sunny Brooke Farm" in big letters on theb front of it. but there was no rebecca of course, although as a teenager I looked for her there for years! you know what they say about farmers daughters - like looking for a needle in a haystack (I HEARD that remark, Steve! and I'll have you know, I resemble that remark!).

My father knew Paul Nass pretty well and would often talk to him while taking us kids up to the barn on a saturday Night while he was milking the cows, especially in the summer. Mom and Grandma were never thrilled because we would come back smelling like manure and ended up taking a bath and burning the clothes - at least it seemed like I never saw those clothes again. Mom said she gave them away, we outgrew them. Right. Hahahaha.

Paul would put us up on the back of a cow for a minute. That was exciting, except the cow wouldn't go anywhere. It was trapped in a sort of head restraingin bar while it ate food in the trough in front of it. Paul had dairy cows, around 30nor 40. Theo and Vane's dog sadie used to try to round them up whenever she got loose. It was not fun chasing after a dog in a herd of angry cattle.

Nothing too exciting in a barn, except in the little drain system whoch took away the cow poop when switched on. It was fascinating for city boys to watch, this long cement 2 inch deep cement ditch with a cahin and metal poop scrapper would take the poo right out the door and up the conveyor belt, way up, and then dump in it the manure spreader wagon. Reminds me of Washington D.C. during elecion year. But I digress.

Paul Nass would give us a ride once in a while on one of his tractors, which was always a thrill.
He did really like for us to play in the barn when he wasn't there, but we managed to sneak up there anyway. He would often see us but call up Grandma and tell her not to let us play up there, he was afraid we would fall in one of the hay drops, or square shaped hole in the floor, to the cement floor below. he may have been afraid of liability law suits as well. but somehow we managed to sneak up there til we got caught. Playing in the barn and hay was fun for city boys, especially when you know there's a bad guy that needs to be caught........

I remember once Pat Mickle, the Timlin boys, steve and Cindy Hoover, Ben Hoover and Paul Timlin, aound 1962 in winter time, went up to the barn for a tour, without Paul Nass. We got to a grain bin, which was full of yellow looking grain, and saw a mouse. Pat caught the mouse in his hands, and showed it to us kids while Ben and Paul looked on and laughed. we were all grossed out - eeeooo a mouse. Pat let the mouse go. why does one remember these little gems 45 years later, and not what we did two days ago? these little stories matter more to some in the long term I guess. Here's more:

One year in the early 80's, the barn was burned down. No one ever prooved it, but we believed it was arson. It was after Paul had died in 1979. Rose Nass, his wife, was real upset over the barn being burned down. We thought that the "phoney preacher" who lived back there in a trailer at the end of the driveway accidently set a fire when smoking. Some booze bottles were back there and we figured he was a midnight drinker and a smoker and, well, you put two and two together. He was never successful at preaching or maintaing membership the church he had built off of Beaverton Road onto to Nass's property. Where he obtained enough money for that I don't know.......good intentions yes, but there always seemed to be an element of survival, out of necessity of course, with that guy's self mposed preacher status. Oh well. could have been teenagers.

"The Preacher," who's name I can't recall, was from some state like Alabama or Arkansas, had moved in there around 1973 or 4, had some nice kids who would visit Grandma a lot in the late 70's and early 80's , especially when they were waiting for the bus which stopped at Grandma's driveway for them. But he himself was quite helpless, being what you would call legally blind glasses thick as coke bottles) but very adept at borrowing things from people like gasoline for his lawn mower from Grandma, and buying furniture at estate garage sales like our Grandmother's. I was there during those two events. We just gave the couch to him for $10 for his dignity, or we would have gien it to him outright probably. The Preacher moved away shortly after Grandma had died in late 1985. I believe he was gone by 1987.

Paul Nass had some relatives named the Benchly's. I remember meeting Patty benchly being about our age, was his Granddaughter, a nice gal. Maybe more on Paul Nass and Floyd Allen later. "Moooooooooo..........." (sound effect fade here).