Beech Tree News Network

The Copper Cable

We were going uphill now, Granddad and me. It was two hours till daylight and a month into summer…already warm. Granddad, already into his 70s, hadn’t broken a sweat. I was about ten, panting like an overly hot puppy, my tongue hanging out. I was carrying the lightest part of the house jack-the stand.

“We’ll either pull it out this time or pull it in two,” Granddad was saying.

The thing in question was a copper insulated cable, running down through a two-inch steel pipe into an old underground coal-mine works, long-since abandoned.

One of the mine officials had told Granddad he could have it if he could pull it out.

“No telling what it’s worth,” Granddad said, “no telling how long it is.” 

The cable itself was an inch in diameter.

This was during World War II and copper was scarce. I envisioned what I would do with my part of the money. I would but that little horse off of Harold Cornelius. He wanted $50 for it and an army saddle. I could already picture me and that horse, ridin’ down the canyon.

We had been at this two or three times prior to this, each of us at the end of a short pole, with the cable hooked in the middle. All it would do however, was stretch, not come loose.

That’s all it would do with the house jack too, doggone it! My hopes of me and the little horse riding over the prairie, bedding down by the campfire with the cowherd, “listening to the mild wind strummin’ a sage-brush guitar,” began to fade. It was not to be.

The last time I saw Granddad, Ed Locke, (Ed was his first name-just Ed) he was bedfast. “We’ll go back and we’ll pull her this time, son.”

He never gave up. He died shortly after.

That was many moons ago. As far as I know, the cable is still there. However, we gave it a good try.

I never had a house, well, sort of. We got our daughter one when she was about 13. It was a big tall thing, though gentle. When our daughter rode it, she looked like a flea ridin’ an elephant.

Kindest Regards…