The Hancock-Henderson Quill, Inc.
[The following is the results of a letters written to La Harpe Mayor Kenny Brown and Ada Hubbard of The Historial Society from a Mr. Aeschlimann recalling times that he went hunting in La Harpe and his wishes to find someone willing to let him hunt again.]
Dear Ada:
I never lived in La Harpe. My knowledge of your town stems from thirty-five years of rabbit hunting on a couple farms outside of town.
However, the times I enjoyed in and around La Harpe makes me feel connected, as if I were in some small way a part of it. If you would like, I'll ask my brother-in-law whose land we used to hunt.
I hope someone will read this letter and contact me, I'd love to be published in the Quill. I've always dreamed of being published!
I remember coming into town and seeing Heap Motors and Whitey's. I always wanted to know if there was any friendly rivalry between them.
I remember an older cafe run early Saturday mornings by a big quiet fellow. On one visit, my chocolate milk was sour. Being a boy, I was embarrassed to say anything and just didn't drink the milk.
Next week, the large man asked me why I hadn't said anything. He had noticed it was bad when he poured it out. He said, "Son, don't feel bad to tell me. I want to know so I can check the other cartons."
Breakfast was on him that morning, at his insistence. In the later years, we've eaten at the diner I think you still have.
I remember cutting my finger cleaning a rabbit. I really sliced it good! We drove to the La Harpe Hospital emergency room.
I'm not sure what you call them now, but then we called them "Candy Stripers'.
Anyway, this very pretty young girl was on duty and made the intercom call, "We have a hunting accident in E.R.!" I thought at the time maybe she shouldn't word it quite that way.
Within a minute, we were barraged with every staff member in the entire hospital.
They were all relieved, yet a bit perturbed when they saw it was just a cut finger.
The doctor who stitched me up was quite old. I think I remember him telling me he had graduated medical school in the 20's.
I remember driving to our hunting spots. We would drive past someone's place with SPARROW painted on the garage door.
Then we'd go down a gully and over an old single lane rickety bridge.
Next, it was up a hill, and we'd park in an abandoned farm yard. The old house was still there.
A mummified cat, sitting on the front porch, would greet us year in and year out.
One day the wind was blowing very hard and old cancelled checks were flying out the upstairs window. I think they were written by a Mr. Koernig.
Again, if I remember right, the checks were from the 30's. We had fun picking them up and trying to piece together the man's life from his checks. We thought he may have been a teacher, as well as a farmer.
I remember going out one day when it was twelve below zero with a twenty mile an hour wind. My hands quickly started becoming frostbit. Next, I fell through the ice on a creek up to my waist in water. The guys literally almost had to carry me back to the car.
When we got there, the game warden pulled up. He took one look at me and ordered me into his car.
With his heater turned up, it didn't take long for me warm up. Boy, did my hands ever start burning!
I tried to reach in my back pocket for my hunting license. If I was having this much trouble getting to my wallet, I wondered how I was ever going to show him my take of two rabbits.
Finally, he noticed what I was doing and said, "Forget it. I trust ya'. You just take care of those hands and stay warm."
I guess I remember all the people around La Harpe that way. Everyone seems genuinely friendly and caring.
Since then, I've gone on to hunt big game. I've been charged by a black bear, finally stopping him exactly seven feet off my boots. The bear didn't scare me too much.
However, I was very scared in New York's North Woods during a wind storm.
Seventy-five foot tall oak trees snapping at their trunks. The sound was deafening.
The next day, I happened onto an area that was hit by a "micro burst'. It was a swathe on the mountain side fifty yards wide by three hundred yards long. Every tree was laid flat, as if God had taken His hand and brushed them down.
Now, as I turn 50, I was hoping to return to the days I enjoyed most, rabbit hunting in La Harpe. However, like I said in my first letter, we have all but lost all our prime spots.
Thanks for the reply, and you take care!
Dave Aeschlimann
P.S. I always think it's nice to have a face to go with an email. So, I've attached a photo of my wife (Judy) and I. We celebrated our twenty-fifth anniversary this year.
Oh, I almost forgot to answer your other questions. My name is Swiss. I was Pekin, Illinois born and raised. I've lived in several other places, including Chicago.
A NAME FOR THE NEW SCHOOL
Dear Editor,
As a recent graduate of Southern High School; (ok, ok not so recent) I want to say bravo to the Committee of Ten.
Your hard work and dedication has paid off for the students of Southern and Union; and they are fortunate to have you on their side.
Living now in Moline IL., I understand the feelings of some of the residents towards a larger school. My children average 30 some students in their class rooms, with teacher aides. I recently spent the day visiting with my daughter's 5th grade class and was amazed by how well the day was organized and the work these kids accomplished.
My son attends Wilson Jr. High with just 7th and 8th grade students totaling 467 kids in his building.
I recently received a report card with straight A's on it for him. So having large numbers in a classroom does not impair a child's learning potential, I feel it brings more knowledge to it.
Be proud of the new school district and the advantages that your students will now have. Being a larger district does not mean that your kids will have too many in their classrooms; it means they are meeting new friends, learning new subjects together and looking towards the future.
As for a name for this wonderful new school district, I was thinking about the HENDERSON HURRICANES. Tammy (Talbott) Martin
806 53rd Street
Moline, IL. 61265