McCook's keeper of the flags

Note: The story of Gen. Eisenhart’s funeral and the beautiful Culbertson Cemetery brought forth memories of Frannie Weiland, the keeper of McCook’s flags.

For many years following WW II, Frannie Weiland was McCook’s most visible citizen, in downtown McCook — a familiar sight along Norris Avenue, pulling his little red wagon, filled with window washing equipment.

I doubt that Frannie ever met a stranger. He knew everyone in McCook, and spoke cheerily to everyone he met. He became McCook’s unofficial greeter to out of town shoppers, and certainly made everyone feel welcome.

Frannie was the older son of Frank and Marian Weiland. Frank, a long- time coach and science teacher at McCook HS, was a tireless worker in various capacities at the school, very involved in activities in the city and at St. Pat’s Church — always available with sound advice for students who needed to talk. When the new football field and stadium was built in Bolle’s Canyon, it was popularly named “Weiland Field.”

Frannie’s sister, Marian, and his brother, Joe were leaders in their respective classes. Joe was a fleet wingback on McCook’s championship 1946 football team. He later joined the Marines and rose rapidly through the ranks, attaining the rank of colonel during the Vietnam War.

Frannie had a nervous disorder and it had been difficult for him to learn in school. Today his schooling probably would have been handled differently, but he stayed in school, learned what he could and became a popular member of the school body.

After Frannie’s high school days, Mrs. Weiland was in a dilemma. Frank Weiland had passed away and she was worried about Frannie’s future. She wanted him to be self sufficient, but realized that his choice of jobs was limited. That is when Coach Russ Sautter stepped onto the scene. Russ had been a young coach and teacher when he came into the McCook system, and Frank Weiland had helped him in a multitude of ways, and Russ saw helping Frannie as a way he could partially repay his mentor.

Russ outfitted Frannie with a brush and squeegee, then worked with him until he mastered the art of washing a store’s plate glass windows without leaving the windows streaked. Then he convinced enough store-owners to give Frannie the chance to wash their windows, that Frannie was able to establish a customer base. After that, Frannie’s reputation for giving good service at reasonable rates spread by word of mouth. He was rarely without work.

When we came to McCook in 1957 to buy the Harvest Bakery, Ben Schuering, the previous owner, took me on a little tour of the facility. We came across a window washing brush and squeegee in the basement, and I recalled how I’d washed the windows at the bakery in Plainview. “Well, you won’t have to worry about washing windows here. “Frannie comes weekly, like clockwork, and does a good job.”

I found that all my business neighbors used Frannie as well, as did almost all of the businesses in downtown McCook. But Frannie was available to do other jobs as well. For years he scrubbed the floors at the bakery, and I don’t know how many other businesses. He was ever accommodating. He worked after our business hours, at his convenience. He was often still working at the bakery when the bakers arrived for work at 2 a.m. He had his own bakery key, and enough keys from other businesses that he clanged when he walked. We never worried about things missing. Frannie was as honest as the day is long.

Another of Frannie’s jobs was putting up the flags on the light poles on Norris Ave. for holidays. He unloaded his cleaning supplies from his little red wagon and filled it with flags and a ladder, which he used to climb up to the flag brackets.

In his later years, when it was difficult for Frannie to put up the flags, John Hubert, McCook’s indispensable man, helped Frannie put up the flags, so Frannie never lost that job.

Frannie loved people and he loved organizations. He was always happy to come to the Bakery Christmas Party. He brought his mother, later his sister, as his guest.

He was a popular member of the Kiwanis Club. He dozed a bit when a speaker was long winded, but he loved the camaraderie and high jinks of Ray Search and the other members and enjoyed working on the Kiwanis Pancake Feed, and other Kiwanis projects. When he retired and moved to North Platte, the Kiwanis Club honored him by placing a bench in Norris Park, inscribed with his name.

He was a proud member of the Knights of Columbus. One day he invited me up to his house to see his lodge uniform, with the plumed hat, and cape. It was a beautiful uniform and I admired it, but when he took down his sword I began to think I’d made a mistake in coming. The room was small, and when he attempted to take the sword from its scabbard, he couldn’t quite handle it, and as he struggled with the sword he became quite excited, and I feared for a moment that I might lose my head.

The Chamber of Commerce used to give out their “Smiler Award.” Of course, Frannie was one of the first recipients of this award, and was honored at the Annual Chamber Banquet. When Frannie’s name was announced he received a thunderous, standing ovation. He was greatly pleased — could not stop grinning throughout the evening.

Frannie had an unusual method of accounting. One day he approached me and asked me to help him with his deposit. We went to the bank. His safety deposit box was crammed full with undeposited checks from customers. “Frannie, you can’t do this,” I gasped. “You’ve got several months of uncashed checks here, and you’re going to mess up your customers’ books. You could be getting interest on this money.”

Then he explained. Each time he’d receive a check he put it into his safety deposit box, and at the end of the month his mother would make out the deposit slip and Frannie would take the deposit to the bank. But at that time his mother was ill and his sister, Marian had not yet assumed that job, so the checks just piled up.

Whatever his method of accounting, Frannie was self- sufficient, and even had money to lend to relatives. His needs were minimal. He did not spend money frivolously. He lived at home with his mother. He was clean, and dressed quite nattily, choosing always to wear a tie, even with a flannel shirt.

We can all learn from Frannie’s example. For years he pulled his little red wagon filled with his cleaning supplies from his home near Central School, back and forth to work, but as time went on he got a driver’s license and bought a car for his transportation. At first he bought used cars, but later he bought a brand-new car, of which he was extremely proud. The salesman was shocked when the deal was made and he started to make out the finance papers — “That won’t be necessary”, said Frannie. He whipped out his billfold and paid in cash.

Frannie’s friends were pleased for him, when he bought his new car, and as friends are wont to do, some expressed their pleasure by kidding Frannie about his new acquisition. Bill Lyons, an Attorney, and owner of “Clapp’s Store for Women” and “Modern Appliance,” met Frannie on the street at this time. “Wow, Frannie, that’s a great car you’ve got,” said Bill. “I wish I could afford to buy a new car like that.”

Frannie did not hesitate. “Well, Bill, you get yourself a bucket and brush and I think I can line up a few window washing jobs for you. Then you’ll be able to buy yourself a new car too!”

Source: Faces of McCook, by Walt Sehnert