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The Cushman encounter with Midnight
In the early days of World War II, our government officials made a concerted effort to convince the population that in order for there to be enough fuel for our military forces, for tanks, planes and ships, everyone needed to take part in a major conservation effort.
The speed limit on all roads was set at 35 miles per hour. In addition, gas ration stamps were issued, which limited the number of gallons of gas that an individual could purchase each month. lt was imperative that we should all know that by conserving gas we were doing our part in the war effort. On the other hand, people who did not conserve gas were seen to be unpatriotic -- working against our boys in service.
People generally supported these measures. To encourage the saving of gas, the Cushman Motor Co. launched a campaign urging people to use one of their scooters as a means to get around and to leave their gas guzzling automobiles in the garage.
The Cushman Motor Co. was strictly a Nebraska enterprise. It was founded in Lincoln in 1902. Initially, its only product was a small, air-cooled gas engine that could be used to drive washing machines and other small appliances. The engine was well built and the company had modest success with this product.
Then, in 1926, when Chas. Ammon, an inventor from David City, joined the company big things began to happen. Seeking to produce new products that would use the Cushman motors, Mr. Ammon, in 1926, brought out a motor driven lawn mower, called "Bob-a-lawn." In 1936, he introduced the Cushman Scooter. The scooter became an immediate hit, and was so successful that all other uses for their engines ceased.
These little scooters, which sold for less than $200, were sturdy, dependable, and most of all, fun to ride. They were simple to work on, used very little gas, and could be stored in a very small space. The company's entire production was devoted to the making scooters, and the Cushman production factory had to be expanded again and again.
Soon after World War II began, the factory output was switched to producing a GI version ofthe civilian scooter. Some of these machines were used by MPs in this country and abroad. Another model was designed for the paratroopers. It was dropped, by parachute, out of the planes right along with the men. In moments a landing soldier could be motoring along on his scooter. These scooters were a reinforced, stripped down version of the civilian model. They were extremely simple, and almost indestructible.
After the war the Cushman Co. resumed its production of civilian scooters, but faced severe competition from foreign imports, mainly from Spain and Italy and later Japan.
Different models were developed, including a type of three-wheel truck, called the "Truckster." (The city of McCook used one of these little machines as the Meter-Wagon for some years).
Later the company had some success in the manufacture of golf carts and larger scooter/motorcycles. But in 1965, after almost 30 years of production, the company discontinued the manufacture of Cushman Scooters. In the years since, the company has been sold and resold several times, and at present goes by the name of Cushman, a Textron Co, employing some 500 workers at its plant in Lincoln.
My dad, Walter, had the bakery in Plainview, during World War II. In early 1942, his contribution to making more fuel available for the war effort was to buy one of the Cushman Motor Scooters, the first in Plainview.
His rationalization was that the bakery could use the scooter to make in-town deliveries, and he could ride it back and forth to work. Since the scooter was said to get almost 80 miles to the gallon of gas versus 20 miles per gallon or less for the trucks and cars, he would be conserving vast amounts of fuel -- for the war effort. In 1942, I was approaching the age when I might be able to ride the scooter, so I thought it was a great idea, and hoped that the fathers of my friends would follow Dad's patriotic gesture and buy scooter of their own. Gee, maybe if we got enough scooters in the neighborhood we could have races.
Dad treated my sister and me to rides around town on the new machine. We were thrilled. But when we returned to the house for supper we were quickly brought back to reality. My mother was not so sure that buying the Cushman scooter was a good idea. No, more than that, she didn't like it at all.
For one thing, she pointed out, there was little room on the scooter for carrying deliveries. And if my Dad really wanted to save gas he could walk back and forth to work. (I'm sure that walking to work was not an option. I believe that I can count on one hand the number of times that my Dad ever walked the five blocks to the bakery. ) In short, Mom felt that Dad was more interested buying the scooter as a toy than for any practical use, patriotic or otherwise.
Finally, in what I felt was the most cutting jab of all, she finished by saying (in no uncertain terms), that the vehicle was unsafe and I was not to be allowed to ride that "thing" by myself.
It was on the first morning that Dad rode his scooter to work. It was about 3 a.m. and the streets of Plainview were deserted. Even the night cop had gone home. The only activity down town was at the bakery and at the telephone office, where Francis Stone worked as the night telephone operator. Francis worked the night shift by himself, but always brought along his very large black dog, called Midnight, for companionship and I suppose protection. Midnight was ordinarily a friendly creature that sometimes curled up near Francis' chair, inside the building, and sometimes he slept just outside the office door, on the sidewalk.
Unfortunately, no one had bothered to tell Francis and Midnight that Dad would be coming past the telephone office on his new gas saving little scooter, so Midnight was at his post, "outside" on the sidewalk. The strange little machine, with its noisy, putt-putt sound, startled the dog, and like a good watchdog is supposed to do, Midnight attacked the "intruder" and lunged at the machine. He managed to catch onto Dad's pantleg. I suppose, at that time, Dad was not entirely familiar with operating his scooter, and in defending himself against the attack he turned too sharply and crashed.
Luckily he narrowly missed hurtling into Mr. Stone's car (the only car on the street). But he did succeed in attempting to plow a furrow into the concrete street with his elbow, knee, and forehead. Francis Stone heard the crash and rushed outside to investigate. It was with difficulty that Dad made his way another block to the bakery, even with Mr. Stone's help. He managed to work through the night, but it was painful and as soon as he could get away he came home, to recuperate. When I saw him at noon I had no trouble seeing that he had been in a considerable accident.
Dad's injuries were not serious, but his enthusiasm toward conserving gasoline, by using a Cushman Scooter, were considerably diminished. Merten Grecow, the young fellow who made deliveries in town did use the machine for a couple of weeks, and loved riding it, and giving rides to the high school girls. But as had been pointed out, it was not practical and Merten usually ended up using another vehicle for making his deliveries. And also, I think that just the sight of that scooter made my Dad mad all over again. When he got an opportunity to sell the scooter to a fellow from Norfolk he jumped at the chance.
I was extremely disappointed. I wanted him to keep it, but I was reluctant to bring up the subject. It was one of those things we just didn't talk about.