In regard to the unsettled argument over fossile fuels - WHAT'S THE PROBLEM?
I fondly recall Mr. Yelson who used to call on Mrs. Lind on a fairly regular basis.
The streets in my home town in southern Kansas were red brick - quite a site and no less a novelty in the early thirties.
Horse-drawn vendors selling vegetables, tomales, and ice cream, all had rubber tires on their wagons so as not to make a clatter.
The thing that made Mr. Yelson's visits unique was that he owned an electric car. It was battery operated open coupe. The steering was done by a goose neck lever, pushed gently in the direction desired. Such vehicles were popular for professional people. They got them where they wanted to go quickly and cleanly and you didn't have to crank them.
I was three-years-old in 1930, old enough to be fascinated by Mr. Yelson's quiet and purposeful journey down our red brick street to see Mrs. Lind - always in time for dinner.
I fondly recall Mr. Yelson who used to call on Mrs. Lind on a fairly regular basis.
The streets in my home town in southern Kansas were red brick - quite a site and no less a novelty in the early thirties.
Horse-drawn vendors selling vegetables, tomales, and ice cream, all had rubber tires on their wagons so as not to make a clatter.
The thing that made Mr. Yelson's visits unique was that he owned an electric car. It was battery operated open coupe. The steering was done by a goose neck lever, pushed gently in the direction desired. Such vehicles were popular for professional people. They got them where they wanted to go quickly and cleanly and you didn't have to crank them.
I was three-years-old in 1930, old enough to be fascinated by Mr. Yelson's quiet and purposeful journey down our red brick street to see Mrs. Lind - always in time for dinner.
I would make it a point to run outside when I figured that Mr. Yelson would be motoring down north "B" Street, past our house and to the corner across from us to Mrs. Lind's house.
Mrs. Lind was well-to-do and her house was stately. But Mr. Yelson was hard to figure. We all wondered when he, a confiremed bachelor, would propose. He certainly did not hurt for funds, as he was the head of the local Building and Loan office.
Mrs. Lind was well-to-do and her house was stately. But Mr. Yelson was hard to figure. We all wondered when he, a confiremed bachelor, would propose. He certainly did not hurt for funds, as he was the head of the local Building and Loan office.
He was the soul of propriety and "sober as a judge" - a smile might have cracked his lips. But here came Mr. Yelson - set your watch -rolling quietly down the street, a thin man, sitting straight as an arrow, in a dark suit and hard sailor straw hat set straight on his head, and he neither turned to the right or the left.
The only moving thing in the driver's seat was his arm on the steering lever. His carriage could get up to 40 mph, not fast by our standards today, but it beat a mule-drawn wagon of sweet corn, and it got him cleanly to where he wanted to go.
Hooray for Mr. Yelson. He gave me a pleasant memory of my childhood. What ever happened to him? I don't know. My parents would never confide such things to me, a child who did not need to know everything.
The only moving thing in the driver's seat was his arm on the steering lever. His carriage could get up to 40 mph, not fast by our standards today, but it beat a mule-drawn wagon of sweet corn, and it got him cleanly to where he wanted to go.
Hooray for Mr. Yelson. He gave me a pleasant memory of my childhood. What ever happened to him? I don't know. My parents would never confide such things to me, a child who did not need to know everything.
