Sepia Saturday – Stunt Man on a Bike

Sepia Saturday provides bloggers with an opportunity to share their history through the medium of photographs. Historical photographs of any age or kind become the launchpad for explorations of family history, local history and social history in fact or fiction, poetry or prose, words or further images. If you want to play along, sign up to the link, try to visit as many of the other participants as possible, and have fun.

M. D. Webber

Sitting outside Charles’ and Abbie’s place along highway 63 in southeastern Iowa, my dad and his grandfather, Myron D. Webber, were enjoying a quiet chat one evening. The sun had set and they watched the few cars that passed by as they talked. The truck stop was situated between corn fields at a junction of two highways. Grandfather sat cross-legged in one of the metal lawn chairs in front. He had a stately appearance – tall and thin, with a handlebar mustache. A Baptist preacher by calling and profession, he supported his large family doing plastering on the side. 

The quiet was broken by the sound of a motorcycle approaching. This was nothing unusual. My dad owned a business on this same property where he sold and repaired motorcycles and he did his best to encourage his neighbors to enjoy the benefits of motorcycle ownership.

Unlike the other vehicles that had passed by, this one did not have its headlights on. The lights from the truck stop brought the approaching motorcycle into view. A ladder stood upright toward the rear of the bike. The “driver” of the bike was on the ladder. His female assistant let loose a few helium-filled balloons and the man on the ladder pulled a pistol from his holster and shot them.

Grandfather Webber turned to my dad and said, “Gerald, isn’t that against the law?”

One could come to varying conclusions about my Great-grandfather’s comment. Was this event “lost on him” as my dad said when he told me the story? Was this a display of grandfather’s dry sense of humor, as another cousin remembers him having? Or was grandfather trying to subtly discourage my father from imitating the man – as another cousin suggested – because Dad raced motorcycles and liked to do some crazy things… ?

I heard this story for the first time a couple of weeks ago when I called my dad(Jerry) to ask him some questions about my grandparents’ truck stop. (Carrying Bricks) The man shooting balloons from a ladder on a motorcycle in the dark was motorcycle stunt rider Putt Mossman. I had never heard of him before, so I did an internet search and sure enough, the memory my dad shared with me is exactly the kind of trick riding that Putt Mossman performed. Putt had stopped in to dad’s motorcycle shop on a few occasions. When he came down the road that night, Dad knew exactly who it was.

Putt Mossman was born in 1906 and grew up on a farm outside Eldora, Iowa. His first claim to fame was as a horseshoe pitcher. He won the state title in 1924 and, at the age of 18, the world title that same summer. He repeated this achievement in 1925. Putt also designed a uniform for horseshoe throwing and designed and patented a special horseshoe for competition.

Putt Mossman seems like a man who was always on the move and always trying something new. And maybe always looking for a way to earn some cash. Besides his accomplishments in horseshoe pitching, he also earned a world title in high kicking, pitched semi-pro baseball, and was a junior lightweight boxer. My dad described Putt as a short, strong guy who could stand on your living room floor, squat down, and jump up and touch the ceiling with his feet.

As Putt Mossman is said to have told the story, he got his first motorcycle at age 20 and did his first stunt (standing up on the seat) a couple of days after he got it to impress some young ladies who caught his eye.

He did some motorcycle racing, but was known more for his stunt work. He performed in Asia, Europe, Africa, and Australia and New Zealand. I won’t attempt a biography of his life, but will share a few more photos.

He kept a busy schedule

Ladder and fancy exhaust

1936

He took some spills over the years, broke some bones, received some burns, but rarely missed a show.

A bigger gun than he used while riding past my dad and grandfather.

In darkness on a motorcycle between two walls of fire.

Putt Mossman also did stunt work in Hollywood. He always seems to be wearing a shirt with the horseshoe logo he designed.

Jumping into the Pacific Ocean for Universal Studios

One of Putt Mossman’s last performances was on the Johnny Carson show. You can tell he is quite the talker. I think I read that he was scheduled for just a 10 minute interview, but Johnny kept him on longer. The interview starts at the 19:00 mark. Be sure to watch past the commercial breaks. There is a studio film of him doing stunts in 1931 after the first break and the bit with him throwing horseshoes is after the second break. True Johnny Carson.

I’ll end with a couple of family photos. My dad doing a Hill Climb competition in 1953
Dad in the 1955 Iowa State Championship race.

He did a few stunts too, but not as extreme as Putt Mossman.

And here is Great Grandfather Webber, posing on a motorcycle.

This is my contribution to Sepia Saturday. Please visit others who participated by clicking here: Sepia Saturday. And join in! We’d love to have you participate.

Sepia Saturday – Signs of the Times

Sepia Saturday provides bloggers with an opportunity to share their history through the medium of photographs. Historical photographs of any age or kind become the launchpad for explorations of family history, local history and social history in fact or fiction, poetry or prose, words or further images. If you want to play along, sign up to the weekly Linky List, try to visit as many of the other participants as possible, and have fun. Click here to pay a visit:  Sepia Saturday

This week’s prompt photo features advertisements painted on the side of a building. I have a photo for this!

My grandparents, Charles and Abbie (Webber) Smith owned a truck stop in southeastern Iowa at the junction of highways 63 and 149. This intersection, near the small town of Hedrick, was known locally as the Hedrick Y. A previous post, Charles’ and Abbie’s Place, provides a view of the “Y” and a little more of this family story (including me as a baby).

The photograph below, dated 1950, provides a glimpse of the advertisements painted on the side of the building. My grandmother’s handwriting identifies the date and names.

A closer look reveals the names “Smith & Smith” at the top. The next line is unreadable. And below center is an advertisement for Robin Hood Flour.

My mom and I are in the photo below, most likely taken at Easter 1954. We are standing in front of the same wall, which has been painted over, although the original paint still show through. I guess my grandpa wasn’t concerned with the need for an additional coat of paint. A metal sign has been added to the roof – featuring a Coca-cola bottle and my grandparent’s names, Charles & Abbie. The water pump is visible in both pictures, and it looks like a TV antenna now rises above the chimney. A Conoco sign is visible in the background, indicating that there had been a change from the Sinclair Petroleum franchise.

A Joe Lewis poster had a prominent place on a post inside. Unfortunately the photo is blurry. I searched for a poster like it on the internet, but came up empty.

The picture below was taken during demolition of the building, which had undergone some changes from the previous photo. The roof line is different and the photo shows the opposite side of the building, now minus the attached garage. The second door and a window had also been eliminated.

There is another advertisement for Robin Hood Flour (Milled from ????). Maybe it says “Milled from Washed Wheat,” as shown on the sign at right. Also on the side of the building: “Smith & Smith” and “Gasoline.”

I love that the business was named equally for my grandmother and grandfather. Running the business was certainly a joint effort.

That looks like my grandfather on the roof.

A new building replaced the original and my final photograph of Charles’ and Abbie’s truck stop is of a couple of posters visible inside the new digs. One promotes Marlboro cigarettes for women and I think the other is for Kool cigarettes. A local girl used to come and play with me when I was there and we are enjoying the benefits of life at a truck stop.

The photograph below does not include any signage. There must have been a lot of rain some time during or before August of 1958, as this picture shows some minor flooding on the property. The building is a little house that sat behind the truck stop. My great aunt and uncle lived there for several years.

I included this because water and flooding have been much on our minds. Austin, TX has been under a boil water order for several days now due to flooding to the north and west of us that damaged and destroyed homes and lots of property, overfilled the Highland Lakes in central Texas, and overloaded our water treatment facilities. We have been taxed with doing what we can to conserve water and treat our own water for drinking and cooking.

And this happened.

We had stored some water jugs in the closet years ago, so have been putting them to good use. I got one out and noticed it was leaking. I got out this sun tea jar (advertisement on it, so this actually fits the theme!) and began to transfer the water from the jug to the jar. And then…. Ack!!!

I wondered if drinking scorpion infused tea would give me super powers. I chose not to test it out.

Being under a boil water order and the necessity of conserving water to get out from under it certainly makes a person more mindful. We hope the restrictions will be lifted late tomorrow.

Sepia Saturday – An Untold Story

Sepia Saturday provides bloggers with an opportunity to share their history through the medium of photographs.

I had to take a break from participating in Sepia Saturday. Two kids moved out of state in the month of September and we inherited a big grand-dog – and I can’t remember what else, but that was enough to keep me away. I didn’t realize the photo I’ve been thinking about was the prompt for last week! Oh well. I’m going with it anyway. I’m just 10 days late.

The prompt photo is titled “The Family Car” and features some men washing and shining up their vehicle. For some reason, it reminded me of this …

My Grandmother wrote “Our Dodge” on this photograph. What happened to the family car?

I called my dad(Jerry) and asked him to tell me. He began by saying that only four people ever knew what happened. At least two of those people are deceased and Dad has now broken his promise never to tell.

The car in question was a 1941 two-tone maroon Dodge. Dad said that my grandfather, Charles Smith, never bought anything brand new, but remembers the car as being “pretty new” when they got it. My little peek around the internet suggests it was a 1941 Two Tone Luxury Liner Town Sedan.

One must have felt very fancy in the smartest new two tone!

“In this combination, Regal Maroon and Speedwing Gray give a richness of color contrast that is truly distinctive. Inside, the cushions and lovely maroon upholstery have arm rests, assist straps, floor coverings and side panels to match … all beautifully set in a background of light gray.”

I can just feel those luxurious seats, can’t you?

Front bumper guards furnished at slight extra cost.” Not only did this car have the front bumper guards, it also had low lamps. Fancy!

My dad’s brother, Mike, took his girlfriend for a drive in the family car. The Smith family lived on a farm near Packwood, Iowa, and Mike was in high school. Perhaps to please his girlfriend (we’ll never know that part of the story), Uncle Mike let her drive.

In those days, even the “main” roads between small Iowa towns were gravel roads. The girlfriend “lost control, went over the side and rolled it,” as Dad tells the story.

Thankfully, no one was hurt.

In this last photo of the series, Grandma Abbie wrote, “After the top had been pried up.”

Yikes! How bad was it before the top was pried up?

Uncle Mike told his mother what happened, but everyone agreed not to tell his father that Mike let his girlfriend drive the car. Dad thinks my grandpa drove the car to Iowa City and it was repaired at a body shop there.

A few years later my Grandpa had to sell the car to save the farm. It was fun while it lasted…

Uncle Mike in the family car

This is my offering for Sepia Saturday. Please visit others who participated this week – but will be responding to an entirely different prompt!

  • Story told to me 9/30/2018