As Told By C.S. Beaty

By Bob Copperstone I suppose most every family creates its own routine of visits to relatives on holidays. Christmas Eve visitors at our house visitors usually were Mom’s brother and sister-in-law and their son and two daughters. Gary, the son, was one of my best friends while we were growing up. His family had always had a rather rough time of it, I remember. His dad was a rarely successful door-...

By Bob Copperstone The Power of Positive Santas While I lived in California some decades ago, I fell into a Christmas groove of donating to a police fund that delivered new toys to kids from needy families in Los Angeles County. The Arcadia Police Department would ask the donors to help distribute the presents. I would love to have seen the happy kiddies receive my gifts. During this one particula...

By Bob Copperstone It's rather a well-grounded Christmas custom in our family here in Nebraska to use the "Secret Santa" method of gift-giving. It is a holiday lifesaver for this old bachelor. Every word, paragraph, text and original theme in the letter comes out of my tiny little brain. People have asked if they could copy the letter, and I am happy to oblige. I toyed with copyrighting it, but to...

By Bob Copperstone Before my parents, Hank and Irma, acquired the Wigwam Café in 1949, Hank worked in heavy equipment construction for the county and the Meese Construction Co. in Wahoo (“I’m a cat-skinner by trade,” he would proudly say, referring to Caterpillar bulldozers). Thanks for reading By C.S. Beaty! Subscribe for free to receive new posts and support my work. Irma was a much sought-after...

By Bob Copperstone I was 9 years old in 1948 when my parents, Hank and Irma Copperstone, took half-ownership of the Wigwam Café in downtown Wahoo with Clare (Muzzy) and Dorothy (Dodo) Miller. I spent a great deal of the remainder of my childhood exploring the restaurant’s main floor and basement. Believe me; I missed neither nook nor cranny of that fascinating building. The Independent Order of Od...

By Bob Copperstone Lucille’s Gift Shop’s Comic Book Treasure For years, Lucille’s Gift Shop, originally on the corner west of the Wigwam Café in the LaGrand Hotel building, was a thriving business in downtown Wahoo. I confess it now: I had a real crush on Lucille Herrick. I loved that woman dearly. I couldn’t help it. I was only 8 years old, and she let me read her store’s comic books.  For free!...

By Bob Copperstone Shabbily Dressed for Travel So after school lets out, I go first to the Wigwam. I see my dad, Hank, at the sandwich board or fountain, or cash register, or working the room as host, greeting customers.  “How’s your dinner?” or “Where’re you folks from?” he asks the tourists, always with a pleasant, infectious smile. Thanks for reading By C.S. Beaty! Subscribe for free to receive...

By Bob Copperstone A Wahoo City Council public hearing, which partly discussed confiscated graveside flowers at Sunrise Cemetery, packed the meeting on Tuesday. At the time, I was unaware that many, if not most, of the protesters were there because they were furious that correctly-placed flowers and other displays had been swept up and destroyed in a mass cleanup designed to head-start a new set o...

As a young college student no longer under the constant care of my parents, I reveled in my ability to do the things I wanted. Bedtimes, diets and study habits were all up to my discretion- the only limits being the lack of steady income. I’ve always loved travel, and no longer needing my parents’ say-so, my spirit of adventure came alive when my buddy, Josh, invited me to watch NHL hockey games a...

By Bob Copperstone For many people in Wahoo and surrounding Saunders County in the mid-20th century, the Wigwam Café was a powerful, green-themed touchstone. Today, I happily draw on those fond memories. Along with the Fairview and the Day & Nite cafes on the highway north of downtown, the Wigwam Café was a community gathering place with nickel fountain Cokes, dime double-dip ice cream cones, 25-c...

By Bob Copperstone Today is any school day afternoon in the 1940s.  I’m a pupil at West Ward Elementary School in Wahoo. Mr. Meduna, the janitor, rings the final “school’s out – go home” bell. (A t my age, anyone to whom I stand belt-high must never be called by their first names; that would be rude. His first name was Lloyd). An explosion of kids, finally freed from disciplined movement and manda...

There comes a point in every boy's life where he wonders if he has what it takes to be a man.   According to my vague recollection of the movie 300, at the age of seven, Spartan boys were taken from their families and forced to enter the State mandated education and indoctrination program.  Boys were weirdly made to get naked, go into the wilderness alone (allegedly… seems like being naked wouldn’...

The game of baseball is timeless and marked with nostalgia. More so than any other sport, tales of the greats are passed down from generation to generation. The modern inheritance is Topps cards of noteworthy sluggers. Kids learn to play catch in their backyards with their dads, all along imagining they’ll be the next legend. My family didn't give a s**t about any of that. We didn't care about any...