Grandpa Virgil (my maternal great-grandfather) and Grandpa Leroy (Virgil’s son and my maternal grandfather) were putting on a new chimney at the family’s new farm only two miles south of Elwood, Indiana, but now within the Frankton district.
Halfway up, my young grandfather, Leroy, realized some of the bricks were not the same as the desired smooth red side. “Mother’s going to shoot us over this.” The bricks with which they were working were the ones that had a rough, chalky texture on one side.
Grandpa Virgil thought for a moment, knowing he would not escape a good grilling over the uneven look. It would be a lot of work to tear down what they’d already constructed. He looked up at his son and said, “let’s keep going.” Grandpa Virgil explained they’d continue on and keep repeating the occasional white side showing.
Before long, a black Buick with a cherry red top, turned into the drive and stopped. Grandma Thelma stepped from the automobile and looked up to the almost-finished new chimney.
“Virgil! What’s happening with those bricks? It’s all wrong!”
Grandpa Virgil winked at Leroy and yelled back down, “Now, Thelma, this is the new style that everyone is doing with their chimneys.”
Grandma Thelma thought for a second, nodded, and said, “I like it!”
She climbed back into the car and drove on up the drive toward the back porch.
Grandpa Leroy said, “Daddy was relieved but more tickled with himself for actually pulling something over on Mother.”
The chimney has since been painted and possibly another material has been added.