Ace Wisdom

This is for son Paul. It is the start of basketball’s March Madness. It is all about dreams. I’m sure Paul dreams of “what might have been” if he had continued playing Xavier High school hoops his junior and senior years. Well, I dream about things too.
It was November 1957. My Dad had just died and my Plymouth High School basketball practices had begun. We had good players and the 57-58 season promised to be pretty good. Yeah! I heard that before.
Similar to the movie Hoosiers, we had a new coach, Ken Andersen. Several years out of college, the previous year he had coached Clintonville High School to an unbeaten season. He looked like a high school senior. Thin, kind of a flashy dresser with a crew haircut.
This year our practices were a little different. Lots of practice on technique. Double down trapping of dribbling opponents, setting of brutal screens and running an offensive fast break where the ball never touches the court (no dribbling). And lots of shooting practice.
The season started with our winning the first 3 games. I remember in early December playing mighty Campbellsport on their court. It was supposed to be a big test. We won rather easy. Then we got two more conference victories before the two week Christmas Break.
After Christmas we won a few more conference games and guess what! We were unbeaten and at the top of the Eastern Wisconsin Conference. The big opponent was Kohler, also unbeaten and they had to play us on our court that year. Only one meeting. They had a guy named Dick Newton who excelled at football. Thunder thighs that acted like thunderbolts when he jumped. They also had a guy named Ron Schmeling that played point guard and could dribble behind his back. In those days that was unheard of. He would dibble around his back while driving to the basket for a soft layup. How special was that? Our two unbeaten teams met. Our Gym was packed and they turned away lines of people. It was a tight game. I remember only getting four shots all night and made all four. We won 46-44. Hey, hey. Now we were leading the conference with a 6-0 record and something like 10-0 overall.
We continued to roll. We defeated conference opponents by double digit margins. As we rolled into March with one game to go, we were 11-0 in our conference and had clinched at least a share of the conference championship with Kohler who still had only one loss. We were 15-0 overall. Our last game, our last hurdle to an unbeaten season was Valders at Valders.
The Valders gym was jumping. By the end of the season, everybody knew we were unbeaten and loyal Plymouth fans and Valders fans packed the place. In my mind, the whole game was like slow motion. They were making shots they shouldn’t have, they stole the ball a few times and wouldn’t you know with 3 minutes left in the game, we were down one point. We came out of a timeout. We had the ball and I was to inbound it. We sprung a man free and I threw to him. Then I used a line of screens to breakfree and get a return pass and make an easy layup. I did that. I had gotten bumped coming off the screens and they called me for “traveling” and the basket didn’t count. The ball went over to Valders. I still think that “travel” call was bullshit. Still lots of time. They still led by one point when we finally stole the ball with 6 seconds remaing in the game. We called time. The plan was to throw the ball to a man a mid court and then try to hit our biggest man Jerry Klemme somewhere near our free throw line. We did that! Jerry got the ball and turned and drove to the basket and got up an errant shot. The horn went off! There was total pandamonium. But wait, Klemme had been fouled and had two free throws coming. The dream was still alive. One free throw and we get another chance in overtime. Two free throws and we get our undefeated season.
Klemme was a very good free throw shooter. He never showed nerves. Well the Valders fans were under the basket waving and yelling to distract Jerry. He released the first free throw and I think it got 2/3 of the way to the basket and fell to the floor. Air ball! Air ball! Now our only chance was overtime. Jerry released the second shot but he “shortarmed it” and it hit the front of the rim and fell harmlessly to the floor. Valders had beaten us by one point.
Co-Champions of Eastern Wisconsin Conference. 15-1 overall. So close. Such a good season. Almost perfect.
But here is the dream part. I still think about the play from out of bounds where I was called for a travel. My basket would have given us the lead and who knows the final outcome. Also Jerry Klemme making two or even one free throw after time had expired might have given us the perfect season. Almost.
That is what March Madness is all about. Fullfillment of dreams. Agony of defeat. It is for that excitement that we play the games. Each of us is left to contemplate “what if”.
Our coach, Ken Andersen went on to become legendary at UW-Eau Claire. I think he won 3 national NCAA Division 3 Championships and was named UW Badger Coach.
Our team went to Sheboygan to start the State Tournament and got blitzed by Sheboygan North. We lost bad.
And Kohler which was technically a Class C school because of it’s small size, went on to win the State Class C Championship.
Ah what could have been. And my dad who had followed me religiously for years would have had a heart attack in the stands as he munched his cigar. Too bad he couldn’t have been there. Maybe he was?
So let the madness begin! Enjoy.
Love,
Dad(Just Chas.)

Addie had been pestering me to write down the family history because son Ryan keeps asking. It turns out Ryan wants to know history but he is looking for baby names. Her pestering and the article on the Central House has forced me to dig through old files on family information.
What follows is concentrated on my side of the family. Your mom will have to fill in the Steger/Krushke information. Isn’t that slightly German.
As you know your grandfather was Warren C. Andrews(Bucky), born 5/28/1920 in Mukwanago, Wisconsin. He died Nov.10, 1957. I have really given you his bio. Your grandmother was Alice Helen Andrews (maiden name was Stiller). Hence there is more German in your gene pool. Couple Stiller with your mother’s maiden name of Steger and you can’t deny German. Alice was born 3/19/1922 and died Dec.23, 1986. She died of a heart attack, coughing spell from smoking, or diabetes. Take your choice. I will do a bio of her in the next few weeks. That takes care of the first generation removed from me. Remember this is my side of the family.
The second generation removed on Bucky’s side would be your great-grandfather Charles Elmer Andrews (Chalk) born in 1898. I don’t have Chalk’s exact date of birth. His wife was great-grandmother Myrna Elizabeth Andrews (maiden name Roberts) born 1/2/1901. Chalk and Myrna wer married June 28,1919. Chalk died Oct.4, 1946 of a stroke. He had something like 12 operations on his knee and eventually they surgically locked his knee in a straight position so he walked with a limp. I attribute his short life to the poor quality of surgery in those days and poor anesthetics. Chalk’s brother George lived into his mid-90’s so my guess is that Chalk’s gene pool was basically pretty good. Myrna died in January of 1983 of cancer of the esphogus and lungs. She had been a heavy smoker through the middle part of her life but who knows?
The second generation removed on Alice’s side was great-grandpa Ervin Stiller (nicknamed Jiggs) born 7/31/1897 and who died 5/13/1966. I was named after Ervin Stiller. My whole name is Charles (after Chalk), Ervin (after Jiggs) Andrews. Your great-grandmother was Helen Stiller. I don’t have the date Jiggs and Helen were married. Helen was born 3/8/1899 and died 10/13/1958, one year after the funeral services of Bucky. Grandma Alice lost her husband in 1957 and mother in 1958. Tough Ride! Great-grandma Helen’s maiden name was Bruns. I think she was born in Sheboygan and was courted by Jiggs in Sheboygan. I know that Helen worked in the office at Vollrath Company for a few years in the office. Helen death was never autopsied but she had diabetes and “sky high blood pressure” which in those days was uncontrollable. Jiggs died of an intestinal blockage. They never performed an autopsy on him either. Jiggs was known for owning Plymouth Springs Bottling Company producing soda. He sold the company in the 40’s because he wanted to hunt and fish in northern Wisconsin.
The third generation removed on Bucky’s/Chalk side was great-great Grandpa Elmer (Chalk’s dad). He was born in 1870 and died in 1950. He was married to Addie May Andrews (which is where my sister got the name she has never liked), born 1876 and died April 20, 1944. Elmer and Addie May lived with Chalk and Myrna a the City Club for a number of years. My understand is they owned a sheep farm and could not manage it any more. Allegedly Elmer had spent a few years in Canada in his youth and there was a set of twins running around that were part of the Andrews gene pool. Who knows? My understanding is that the Andrews side traces back to Scotland but I don’t know how many generations came before Elmer. I do remember something about “Connecticut Yankees” but that is very vague in my memory.
The third generation removed on Bucky/Myrna side was great-great Grandpa John J. Roberts born 2/2/1874. He died at the City Club 7/13/1969 at age 95. Again, not a bad longevity gene pool. He married Mary Elizabeth Roberts (maiden Smith) Feb.17, 1897. Mary Elizabeth Smith was born Feb. 4, 1872. She died at the City Club sometime during the 1960’s and was about 85 years old. I don’t have the exact date of her death. The Roberts were farmers with dairy cows in Mukwanago, Wisconsin. They left the farm to live out their days at the City Club. Notice that “assisted care facilties” and “retirement homes” were not even available.
The fourth generation removed on the Bucky/Myrna/John J. Roberts side was great-great-great-grandfather John E. Roberts. John E. was born in Wales March 17, 1834 and married Mary Roberts (maiden name West) December 18, 1858 in Mukwanago, Wisconsin. There, I finally made the Wales connection that Myrna always taked about. John E. from Wales died December 4, 1897. Great-great-great-grandma Mary (West) Roberts was born Nov. 28, 1834 in Detroit, Michigan and died April 6, 1915. If my memory serves me right there was English and French heritage on the West side. French? Ick! Yuk!
Now we go fifth generation to the Bucky/Myrna/John J.Roberts/Mary Roberts (West) connection. Mary (West) Roberts parents were great-great-great-great grandpa William West, born May 6, 1810 near Pocklington, Yorkshire England. He married great-great-great-great grandma Elizabeth Mary Touhill who was born Jan. 31, 1814 in Pocklington, Yorkshire, England. They were married March 18, 1834 at Yorkshire, England. William West died Sept. 17, 1900 and his wife Mary died March 25, 1897. They lived in Mukwanago, Wis.
Right now that is far as I can take you. Maybe my Uncle Bob can fill in the “Andrews” gene lineage.
Someone asked about Parkinson’s disease in the family. Myrna’s brother John Everitt Roberts was born 12/16/1903. He died 12/29/1949. He was completely normal until stricken with Parkinson’s when he was around 19. He slowly began to lose muscle control and his arms shook constantly by the time he died. He never married and lived at home until he died.
This gene pool description traces direct lineage. There are lots of brothers and sister that are part of the history at each generation level. I have some of it but it really gets complex.
Anyone who wants to add or correct, let me know by comment or e-mail. It is a work in progress.
The gene pool says that if you behave yourself, you could live a long time. That is either good or bad depending on how you look at it. I mean gumming your food with Alzheimers in a nursing home at 95 isn’t real attractive. Getting shot in bed with a blond at 95 by a jealous lover ain’t too bad.
Love,
Dad (Just Chas.)

The first priority as you take your hard earned money and try to save some of it is the 401(k) where your employer matches your contribution. This is money set aside for future years. Retirement! It is a marathon, not a sprint.
First, most companies do not offer individual stocks or bonds for your company deferred accounts. They make available a menu of mutual funds each with a different objective. They normally will not recommend how you invest your money because if your investments perform poorly they don’t want to be sued.
Second, diversify, diversify, diversify. People at Enron in Houston put their money in the company stock and did not diversify. People that had seen their accounts soar to $1 million ended up getting $5,000 dollars. If a company offers their stock as an investment, don’t put more than 5-10% of your 401(k) dollars into it. Mutual funds by their nature are diversified. For example, a large cap (company) mutual fund usually has 80-100 companies in their fund. You are automatically diversified.
Third remember that you are in a deferred account with the 401(k). If someone tries to offer you a product such as a deferred annuity within the 401(k), that is just plain stupid. Why place deferred investments inside a program that is already deferred from taxes. Don’t laugh, it happens all the time.
Fourth, the mutual funds you are offered are usually “no-load”. That means no cost to get in, no cost to get out. Funds like Vanguard and Fidelity are no-load and have a broad selection of choices. You can choose money market funds, big-cap, mid-cap, small cap, foreign stock funds, fixed investment funds, bond funds and then a variety of specialization funds like healthcare, energy, and resources. What shall we do? What shall we do?
The financial guru’s want you to believe that you must place money in stocks to realize big gains over 25-30 years. That means they want you in 80% stock when you are young. Bullshit. People that analyze investments have found that if you buy just stocks over that period of time, you’d get a return of 11.7%. If you put you money 50% into stocks and 50% into bonds (fixed instruments), you’d realize 11.3% over the same period. So by doing a 50-50 mix, your risk is significantly lower and you get almost the same return.
Over the long pull, money market funds are just cash earning meager interest. Don’t let your money sit in money funds. Transfer money funds to investments.
Each company will provide you with the portfolio of mutual fund investment choices. Some have 6-7 choices. Some have 50-100 choices. Pick a blend of mutual funds that include some big-cap that are stable steady growth, some mid-cap which are more volitile but mirror large cap over the long pull and small cap which can experience bigger fluctuations in the short-run but potentially bigger long range returns. Include foreign equities and then some fixed investment and bond funds. If you feel like you have insights about the future, put a few bucks into your preference such as health care.
I personally like healthcare. People are living longer. We give them more pills and treat them medically more often. But if you think bigger, healthcare includes companies that have experimented with the human genome. Each person has a particular DNA which consists of a string of 1 billion genes that make up your person. They will be able to alter the gene that makes you an air-head for a fee and eventually we’ll all be equals. Getting past my sarcasm, I think the advances in healthcare are going to be tremendous in the next 25-30 and there are some companies that are going to “explode” upward like tech stocks in the 90’s. Just don’t ask me which ones. I don’t know. So if you want to put 5-10% of your portfolio into a healthcare mutual fund, it is your choice to take the risk.
You will want your 401(k) to do well. You will want money available when you retire. If you don’t take care of yourself, who will?
Chose wisely!
Love
Dad

I got side tracked with the City Club Rooms and Bucky. Now back to the good stuff. Money! Getting rich.
It looks like Grasshopper No. 4 is starting to get real money flowing into his cask. Usually a new employer will inevitably ask, “how much of your hard earned money to you want to set aside in a 401(k) for your retirement”? You and millions of other Americans get that silly look on their face signalling that you don’t have a clue.
First, let me create perspective. The average American lives to age 80. The first 20 years are spent living off the parents. That represents 25% of your life having fun and sitting on your ass. Then you work to age 65. That is 45 years or 56% of your life working and living. You get to raise your own kids that suck you dry. Then if you are lucky, you get 15 years to live an extravagant retirement. The retirement is 19% of your life.
So the whole retirement strategy is take care of 19% of your life. If they raise retirement age to 68 or 70, retirement would be less than 12% of your life. Only you can decide how you want the last years to be.
The retirement plans encouraged by your government are designed to defer taxes or avoid taxes. Rest assured that you will pay some tax. Pay now or pay later. I am not the brightest person in the world but my guess is that taxes are only going to increase with time as we create bigger and bigger federal and state budget deficits. My point is that paying taxes on retirement accounts now will be at a lessor rate than in the future.
Okay! Your employer makes a 401(k) available to you and you feel guilty if you don’t show him/her that you are responsible and set money aside. After all taxes are DEFERRED until you pull the money out of the account in the future (potentially at higher tax rates). The deferred money gets subtracted from your earnings each year and reduces the current year’s taxable income. Good also. Remember, if you have to pull the money out before 59.5, it will be at a 10% penalty and you will pay appropriate taxes.
My humble opinion is that if your employer matches your contribution to a 401(K) up to a certain value, maximize your contribution limiting it to the amount of the match. Where else can you get a 25%, 50% or 100% return on your money instantaneously. Your 401(k) will earn deferred until you reach 59.5 or retire. Here is a common sense test though. If you are deferring so much money that you have to starve the kiddies at home, kiddies come first. Remember that your productive fun years are 56-60% of your life. Starving to cover the 12% retirement portion of your life doesn’t make sense. You will pay taxes on the money as you take it out of your 401(k) and you must start pulling it out at age 70.5
If your employer doesn’t match, the first priority should be a Roth IRA. In this case you do not defer through you employer, you take home more cash but you pay more federal and state takes now. But with a Roth IRA, you can invest up to $3,000 per year and it earns TAX FREE FOR THE REST OF YOUR LIFE. You do not pay taxes when you pull it out. There is a 5 year period where you can not touch the earnings. If you assume tax rates are going to go up over time, paying taxes now and deferring earnings tax free in perpetuity is a really good deal. I think early withdrawal before age 59.5 has the same penalty as a 401(k), 10%. Over 20-40 years, money invested wisely, tax free is a good deal. To qualify, you must earn under $110,000 as a single, $160,000 as a married couple to qualify. So beware you big earners.
There are clever insurance products such as deferred annuities that you purchase with hard earned after-tax dollars. The sales person screws you by taking an absurd commission, contractually obligates you to pay a penalty if you pull out money in the first 7-10 years of the annuity and then will pay you a monthly amount for the rest of a contractual period or your lifetime. If you die before the annuity is paid out, the insurance company usually keeps the money that is left, not your family. Bottom dwelling, skum sucking insurance sales people! As a rule, don’t buy annuities!
So for your “retirement plans” the priority of selection should be (1) contribute to your 401(k) up to the amount that your employer matches, (2) contribute to a Roth IRA first if your employer does not do a matching program up to allowable $3,000, and (3) after you’ve done the first two, defer additional amounts through your 401(k).
So lets say you have $50,000 of income. An employer matches dollar for dollar what you set aside up to 5% of your income. That would be $2,500 deferred (and you get a free $2,500 matching) to invest going forward. Once you’ve taken maximum advantage of the matching program, stop contributing to your 401(k). Then from your earnings that you take home and have paid taxes on, put up to $3,000 in a Roth IRA. The returns will be deferred from taxes forever. Now let me see, in this case, you would have set aside $2,500 in 401(k), $3,000 in a Roth for a total of $5,500 (and another $2,500 from your employer). That is a lot for a $50,000 income. But if you are frugal and can deny yourself BMW’s, boats and extravagant vacations, you can put another $11,500 into your deferred 401(k).
Save some money for retirement. Defer and avoid taxes if possible. You might just reach age 65 to 70 and need additional income. But develop a plan. It becomes your plan. YOU WILL LIVE YOUR STRATEGY.
Love,
Dad (Just Chas.)

This entry is a day early because we are at the Fireside tomorrow. Your mom said I can’t miss my normal Friday entry. Who is writing this blob anyway?
First I got some feedback on comments I made about my children and their cars last time. I struck a few nerves. One person I tried to embarrass was Grasshopper No.3. He has this parking lot in back of his house full of cars. Two Saabs, the GMC truck, an old Suburban being painted and finally the boat. I was admonished for providing wrong information. There is also a Dodge Durango(the wheels keep leaving the road) and a motorcycle. Can that be right? Yep. I’ve counted and recounted. No apologies here.
This will be the last of the Bucky series. In the first entry. I tried to portray “Bucky, the person” and then I followed with a chronology of the cars he had owned. The car article was intended to be fun. Last, some random memories of my dad.
I remember the smell of sweaty sports apparel. My dad would carry baseball bats, balls, and catching gear in the trunk of his car. Included were warm-up jackets, sweaters and hats used at practice sessions. They always had the cruddy jock strap odor. He made up for the stinky trunk by smoking cigars. I don’t know which was worse, jock straps or cigars. God, I miss those smells.
Everything for Bucky was a contest. We’d throw crumpled up paper at wastepaper baskets and brag about who was the best shot. In golf it was “who can hit the ball the farthest”. We would sit at the dininig room table and argue about who had the best handwriting. The challenge was to see who could write his name “W.C.Andrews” the best. How in the hell do you judge who is the best. My “C’s” were always too round and the “d’s” written too tall. Give me a break. What it did do was get me to develop pretty decent handwritting. Sounds like two people with nothing else to do. I mean comparing handwriting. Come on.
I would play basketball at the Gradeschool playground up the hill from the City Club. Actually I’d play hour after hour on the blacktop and I got to be pretty good. Every now and then, Bucky would pull up in one of his classy cars and challenge me to a game of “21”. Now I was into jumpshots and quick releases. He lived in the 30’s and did everything with a two hand “set shot”. I told him he shot like an old man. The son of a gun would beat me regularly. Then we’d argue over who was the best shooter. If you’ve ever played basketball on blacktop you know your hands pick up some of the oil from the blacktop and there is a certain stench that goes with it. I still love that smell.
When I was going to high school, I’d rush home to the City Club at noon. Chili and a hamburger. Maybe a malted milk shake. Then my dad who also stopped for lunch would ask to play catch with a baseball in the back parking lot. What are you going to do? So I’d humor him. I’d wear the catcher mitt and he’d pitch, lefthanded. I think he thought he was Warren Spahn or today, Randy Johnson. He held very little back and the ball would explode into my catchers mitt. Then I’d hear, I’ll throw it softer so that you can handle the pitches. My response “bring it old man”! For 15-20 minutes he would get rid of all his hotilities by firing that ball at me. Then it was back to school. My hand would swell to twice normal size from handling his pitches but I would never tell him or let him see me sweat. God, he could throw that ball.
We did golf together. He wasn’t as much into scoring as he was into busting a long ball. I was beating his ass by the end. There were a couple of times that mom walked the course with us. She must have really like being with me. Well on the 9th hole at Crystal Lake, Shelby had walked down the fairway with me after teeing off. My dad had muffed one and we were along ways away from him. He hit the ball at Shelby and you guessed it, he hit your mother. I know she rubbed it off but there was a little moisture in both eyes. I know he thought I was too young to have a steady girl friend, but hitting her with a golf ball? Bucky really felt bad.
Bucky got tickets to a Milwaukee Braves game against the Dodgers in 1957 in Milwaukee. It was April. He couldn’t go to the game so he filled the tank with gas, gave me the black and white Dodge to use, and brother Jack and I went to an afternoon baseball game. I think Warren Spahn pitched a two hitter. The Principal at Plymouth High School found out we skipped classes to go to the baseball game. Jack and I were called to the office and I remember the Principal, Big John Richards was going to severly discipline both Jack and I. I don’t remember if he threatened suspension. We told Bucky about it and he got on the phone and called Big John. Now remember my dad on been on the school board several times so he knew how things worked. He read Big John the riot act. He had made the decision about what was best for his kids and there was no way discipline was going to be imposed. Big John backed down. Go dad.
The last one I’ll leave you with is during one of his unemployment stints, as a family we were down to white bread and peanut butter. It was summer time. The Andrews kids always played summer baseball at the park (it was supervised). I didn’t have a glove, but I alternated with someone else. I know it bugged my dad that his oldest kid didn’t have a glove. Unbeknownst to the family, he had owned four cemetary lots in Plymouth that Chalk had bought for our family. Well he sold the lots for cash and I remember coming home from the park one noon and there was a “used” baseball glove waiting for me. The son of a gun had found a way to get me the glove. I didn’t appreciate the sacrifice he made at that time but I do now. Special!
If anything, the little boy in Bucky kept coming out. I wasn’t always sure who was the parent and who was the child. I do know he was my dad.
Love,
Your Dad

It is interesting the dialogue I’ve provoked with my last entry on Bucky. Everything from people wanting more family history to comments that the article was too short. I will try to fill in some of the blanks. Today some frivolity with cars.
First, my Uncle Bob Andrews says that his brother Bucky got the name from his Grampa Elmer Andrews. “Rumor was that Bucky was somewhat reluctant to follow orders and requests”. He “bucked” the system. No! Certainly none of his kids or grandchildren have that characteristic. They always said that my brother Jack was a “bullhead” taking after my mother’s side of the family. Maybe not. Maybe he took after my dad.
The Andrews family seems to have a propensity for fine automobiles. Chris’ house is like a parking lot: 2 Saabs, GMC truck, an old suburban that allegedly has been in for painting for two years and I’ll throw in the boat. Debs went from a Nissan truck to a Ford truck to a boss Dodge Ram. Kelly really wants the BMW but has settled for a Passat and a Mazda Milleniun. Paul dreams of used BMW’s. Margaret is suddenly into great sound systems with a Honda attached. First choice was a Mini Cooper. Even Ryan Eisenhardt bought a used Beemer. What is this fetish with fine automobiles?
Well Bucky wasn’t any different. We didn’t always have food on the table, but we had a continued parade of cars.
The first car I remember was a used 1936 Ford Roadster with a “rumble seat”. There was a trunk that opened into an outdoor seat for two. All I remember was that it cold. It was supposed to be romantic. I was too young to test that theory.
Then a used 1938 Chrysler Aero that was a classic. It had a long tapored back and was supposed to go fast. I was a kid. What did I know?
After the War in 1945 there were no new cars being produced because all factories had been used for jeeps, tanks and aircraft. You will not see any 1941,1942,1943,1944, or 1945 models of anything. Bucky picked up a Model T Ford “putt putt” truck with a wooden box on the back. Why? I don’t know why! It was 20 years old. You had to crank it to start it and the accelerator was on the column. You could break you arm cranking especially as the engine engaged. We would park in on the Stafford street hill and to start it we would let it roll down the hill and pop the clutch. It was a piece of shit.
Next was a used 1938 Cadillac. A classic Brown. Gorgeous. Just what every struggling family needs.
Then soon after it was a choice between a classic Cord manufactured in Germany (very sporty for it’s time) or a used Cadillac. It was the newer Cadillac. I don’t remember the year but it had the first Cadillac rear fins with elevated tail lights. You had to lift the rear light to find the gas cap. I’d like to say 1940 vintage but I’m not sure. Actually after we bought it we kept wishing we’d hung on to the 1938 Cadillac.
The first new car was a 1949 Ford Wood Bodied Station Wagon. Paul would call it a “grocery getter”. My dad kept working his way out of sexy classic cars by having more kids. Chris understands the drill. The Ford was eventually repossessed by the loan company. Bucky was between jobs at the time. Long story!
Then it was a used 1950 Oldsmobile four door. He had it lowered in the back to make it look sexy and then put on dual exhaust hollywood mufflers with enhancing tailpipe echo devices. It snorted. Just what a family man with 4 kids should have.
Around this time, Bucky’s high school buddy, Carl Kuhlow, was racing stock cars at the Plymouth Fair Grounds. Carl would battle Miles Milieus every year for the championship. Quarter mile dirt track. Lots of slipping and sliding and the best cars always started at the back of the pack. We’d go every Saturday night. Carl Kuhlow would fix his cars during the week several blocks from the City Club. My dad and I visited often. You haven’t lived until you sit in chopped up stock car with a big engine and running without a muffler. I did. Scary for a kid. Also kind of macho.
1955 brought a our second new car. A simple Plymouth four door with stick shift. Pea green color. I took my drivers test with the Plymouth. I stalled it twice on the way to the testing. I think Bucky used the words Jesus Christ.
The final car was a 1956 black and white Dodge four door. You punched in the proper gear with little pushbuttons mounted in a panel left of the steering column. Great looking car with fins. When Bucky died we ended up selling it because we needed the money.
He helped my with my cars. My first car was a 1947 Olds straight backed “tank” that had the first hydromatic. The straight eight engine roared and it went no where. Here is the story though. My dad thought a converitble would be fun. So he traded my Olds for a 1951 Olds convertible without my permission. He had to add a little money. So now, was it my car or not? Your mother and I got to spend 2-3 high school years with a cool convertible. My mother, Alice, drove that car until the top blew off sometime in early 60’s.
Now I don’t know if the fetish for automobiles is inherited or not but I see lots of evidence of it. Maybe it just brain damage. I know it is fun.
I guess if I want to leave a final impression, Bucky had a fun side. He was always a little boy at heart. I see a little of that in his offspring.
Love,
Dad

As I worked on historical information about the Central House and the Andrews Family, my dad “Bucky” Andrews is always mentioned as a footnote to history. He wasn’t a footnote. He was a talented, promising young man who chose to “check out” early. The stigma of his early demise has always created some mystery. There was also anger by all the people he left behind. So here goes.
Named Warren C. Andrews, the first born to Chalk and Myrna Andrews in Mukwanago, Wisconsin, in 1920, the family moved to Plymouth in 1922. I don’t know where the name “Bucky” came from. I always wanted to know what the middle initial “C” stood for and he told me “just C”. I have a sneaky feeling if we would find his birth certificate it would say Charles after his dad.
He was stocky like Christopher, very intelligent and physically gifted. He played football, was a pole vaulter in track and loved baseball. Baseball became a passion. He was good enough at baseball to get a contract to try out for the Chicago Cubs farm team in Eau Clare, Wisconsin. He befriended Andy Pafko who went on to play 15 years in the Big Leagues. Legend has it that Pafko could throw the ball from deep center field to the home plate on the line never bouncing the ball. Pafko had a cannon for an arm. My dad didn’t.
The baseball tryout was April of 1940. I was born in April. He was off chasing baseballs. My birth certificate says his occupation was a professional baseball player. Even though he didn’t make the Cubs, when he returned to Plymouth he played for the City team for many years (also Glenbulah team). In the mid 50’s, he was voted to the all time Sheboygan County baseball team in a poll conducted by the Plymouth Review.
Bucky was left handed. Damn! Left handed golf clubs, left hand baseball gloves and even his bowling ball was drilled different. That meant I couldn’t use any of his equipment. He wrote with a pen and his hand would curl over the top of the script so he didn’t drag the ink.
He went in the Army in 1941. He hated it but you did what you had to do. It was World War II. He served in the South Pacific. I think Jack was the result of a home leave and maybe even Addie. Jack was 1943. Addie 1944. Jerry Lee was after the War 1946. Addie May was named after a great-grandmother and always got special attention because she was the only girl in two generations. It wasn’t fair.
Bucky went to work at the Borden Company in accounting after the War and I think we even lived in Green Bay for a year or so. He came back to Plymouth and started to get involved at City Club. Like Paul, he went to school choosing Lakeland College paid for by the GI bill. He never finished his senior year but his specialty was accounting. His grades were A’s and B’s.
He ran for the Plymouth School Board twice and was ELECTED both times. He participated in the community. He was well known and well liked.
He met and dated Alice in High School. My impression is that it was special. If anybody has seen the movie Notebook, the young couple in there was infatuated with each other. I think that it is the way it was. Alice in high school was a knockout!
Sounds like he had it all. He did. He was on a roll. Great family, going to school. Promising career. Always maintaining a passion for baseball.
I can’t emphasize baseball enough. We would talk constantly about different players, calculate their batting averages and we’d argue who was best. His favorite? Ted Williams.
Growing up he coached our baseball teams: Chuck, Jack, and Jerry. Thank God they didn’t have girls teams at that time or Addie would have received special treatment again (she is the only kid who ever got a new bicycle). He coached me through Pee-Wee League. Jack and Jerry too. Later was American Legion teams.
And he smoked cigars. Two for a quarter (expensive at that time) Dutch Master Presidents. A buck a day. His spigot was always slightly open. Even today when I smell cigars, it reminds me of him.
He started his own “mobile” accounting business called Cunocar. It was a van outfitted like a mobile trailer. Counters, calculating machines, storage cabinets. “Have business, will travel”.
Near the end, he managed the Plymouth Foundry along with two cattle farms near Cascade. Jack and I always had to go out to the farms to feed the horses and cattle. He screwed up my dates with your mother.
When it came to anything to do with the kids and athletics, he was there. I played basketball and always would look up in the stands and see him there. I also got an earfull on things I should have done differently in the game. God I hated that. But he was there! He beat me regularly at “21”, a basketball game.
Bucky traveled to many, many football and basketball games with Art Mueller (Bill’s father) who was sports editor at the Plymouth Review. They stopped to have a drink or two on the way to the game and certainly on the way home. The referees always stunk. Believe it not they solved all the problems of the world on those trips. At least they thought they did.
My dad’s life never quite went the way he wanted. He was passionate about many things and really could never grab the brass ring. He missed on the baseball career, never quite finished his accounting degree and never achieved the business career he had wanted.
But he lived. He loved his kids and family and would fight for them. I know that many kids playing summer baseball still remember Bucky Andrews.
His life ended badly but he was loved. He was not a footnote.
Love,
Dad

Today is not financial. The Plymouth Review is going to be doing an article on the City Club Rooms and I was asked what I remembered about it. Before it City Club Rooms it was Central House. All my references are to Central House. Here is what I remember.
The Central House is just that. It is on the central intersection of town. It has always had the prime location in town. Even today! If you have to name the most prominent intersection it would be Stafford and Mill Street. It was named Central House for a reason. It was central to everything that happened in a small and growing town. It is close to being a historic treasure. It has been witness to the evolution of Plymouth.
There were no Walmarts or Fleet Farms on the outskirts of town. The A&W Root Beer Stand did not exist. People were “out and about” everyday. And everyday took them past the main intersection in town. Thats right. They had to go past the Central House. The grocer was downtown located on a corner opposite the Central House. The drugstore, the dentist, doctor and Ben Franklin store were within a block of Central House. The Lutheran Church and the High School were blocks away.
If there was a parade (and still today), it passes the Central House. Early stagecoaches, a trolley system from Sheboygan to Greenbush, and truck traffic going north and south or east and west had to go past the Central House. There were no four lane highways diverting traffic around Plymouth. The Central House was alive. It was vibrant.
Friday nights were a happening. It was the night each week that rural society went to town to do the shopping. Would you believe that the stores stayed open until 9:00 PM. Not just mom and dad but kids too. Thats right! You might just meet that special someone you had seen in science class. Many people would stop at the Central House just to say hello.
Saturday nights the Central House would come alive. It was a major “haunt” for an evening of entertainment. Fun times.
Lower, middle and upper class America stopped at the Central House. It could have been for food, drink, a haircut, a pool game or just plain comradery. The point is people stopped often and it was a hub for activity. The Andrews Family was involved for over 50 years. Chalk and Myrna Andrews were the perfect hosts. Chalk had charisma. He had an infectious chuckle, a hearty laugh and a way of relaxing those who stopped. Myrna was hard working, caring and the perfect compliment to Chalk. Damn nice folks! People wanted to stop because they liked the warmth of the Central House. It was a shame that Chalk passed away so early because he had built the Central House into a special place. It had it’s own personality. Slowly things changed as new generations began to get involved. The Andrews charisma is still undeniable. The gene pool has been good to the clan. Good folk with a sense of humor, warm chuckles and hearty laughs.
Bob and Helene? They saved the Central House for another generation. Even though they had moved away to pursue a different vocation, their hearts remained in Plymouth. Central House has held something for them always. Bob and Helene breathed life into the business. And Myrna, she got to live out her life in a place full of good memories. She was part of the Central House fabric.
For Plymouth, the Central House has witnessed 100 years of change. And no, it is not the hub of social activity that it once was but it has retained its place on the prime corner in town. And some semblence of the past remains. The hosts are very cordial. The sandwiches are excellent and if you listen real close, you can hear Chalk telling a story and chuckling in the background.
And me, I was named after Chalk. Ain’t that special.
Love,
Dad

Now that you’ve got control of your cask, the assumption is that you have more money coming in than going out the spigot. That means cash is building up inside the cask. That should make you feel good.
I’ve always been a champion of the “little guy”. He/she always seems to get lost in the financial morass or society. The little guy doesn’t have enough money to be interesting to the financial giant but they do have some cash and are taken advantage of. The little guy is like a bug under the shoe of big money managers. Squish, squish. Just a blot on the sideway of financial history.
When you struggle to save some money, even a couple thousand dollars, it is tough to invest anywhere. You can go to the Credit Union. They give free checking if you maintain a minimum balance. Or you might go into a savings account that pays 1.5%. Whoopee! Or you can go the the local Bank. Same thing. The point is that you have money sitting in the Bank earning almost nothing. A hybred offered by many financial institutions is a “money market account” that pays even less interest but you can write checks on the account.
At the opposite end of the spectrum are the people who have lots of money. Banks, brokers, and fiancial advisors can’t wait to help them. That is because they can get paid for their advice. If you have $10,000 you can buy a bond that gets 5.5%-6% interest. That is a lot better than 1.5%. If you are young and are looking at the long pull, stocks return 11.7% annually every year over a 30 year time horizon. That also is a lot better than 1.5%
As John Lennon sang “Imagine”, just think if you had $1,000 being invested at 11.7% in stock just like the big guy, at the end of the year you will have another $117. So you total for doing nothing except investing like Donald Trump would be $1117. Not bad!
Because you might need your $1,000 for an emergency and because you can’t find a liquid investment that pays more than 1.5%, your $1,000 just doesn’t grow. You are in financial neverland. Squish, squish.
Maybe my line for having little money should be “Splish, splash I was taking a bath”. A financial bath.
To turn this into a positive, get beyond being a little guy. Here is another key to getting rich. Save up that $5,000, $10,000 or $20,000 that you can invest and don’t need for daily living. You can then make it multiply like the big guys. Then you can stand eye to eye with the financial guru’s and kick them in the groin.
Love,
Dad (Just Chas.)

Would you believe that I had my information half typed and I pressed a button accidently and lost it all. Margaret warned me things like that could happen.
I decided I was entitled to be whimsical today. I will tie it into finance somehow.
Just a few comments on Valentines Day. There is no financial consideration of the Day. You don’t want to do something stupid! Valentine’s Day is not about controlling the spigot, watching cash flow or worrying about long term goals. It fails Paul’s “want versus need” analysis. It is about emotion. It is an investment in harmony and the heart. So on this one day, you can loosen up and do what is necessary to tell the special person in your life that you love them and spend a few bucks. It is an investment in the human spirit. I hope you invested wisely.
Okay. Okay. I gave my valentine some flowers and cost was no object. I heeded my own advice. Then I signed the card “with love to the special person in my life”. Then my valentine gave me a very nice card and she signed it “with love to the special person in my life”. Call it coincidence. Call if spiritual. Spooky!
I was walking this morning as always and I noticed that they are now changing the display windows since Valentines Day is over. I walked by Victoria’s Secret and they have a whole new Campaign. Yep. One-half off. The question is, “which half is left off”. Is there enough to leave off. By the way, what is Victoria’s real secret? I wouldn’t say apparel from Victorias is a “need” unless it is Valentines Day. Then it could be a “want”.
Sunday night was snow. I didn’t shovel because I’m a bright guy. I watched the weather station and we were going to have warmer weather and sunshine. It didn’t happen. So my neightbors have to trudge through the snow. I guess I could shovel, but the sun is still forecast. No sense spending a lot of energy if not required. I could hire someone to shovel but my spigot is stuck.
This is the week of the Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Issue. Is the one special issue worth $89.50 subscription per year. I think this investment falls into the category of “want” not “need”.
Enough nonsense. I don’t know how much you learned, but I feel better.
Go forth and continue your financial vigilance.
Love,
Dad (Just Chas.)