When I was a teenager, my dad (Bucky) was the manager of the Plymouth Foundry in Plymouth. They also had an operation in Adell, Wisconsin located about 15 miles south of Plymouth.
One summer in August, the Foundry held a picnic at the park in Adell for all employees. Brats, hamburgers and lots of games. During the picnic there was a “buzz” that spread through the park. Casey Jones was playing horsehoes in the pits of the park. Ordinarily, who cares about horseshoes, but crowds were gathering to watch. Casey was slight of stature, kind of a crooked right arm and curly grey hair.
The first “pitch” of a horseshoe I remember from Casey’s hand, spun 1.5 turns and landed in the pit: a ringer. Pretty good. Then he repeated the ringer, and another and another. He made 20 ringers in a row. He was like a machine. He was obsessive, compulsive about perfection. I remember leaving Adell thinking about what we had seen. I learned later that Casey had won 19 of 20 State Horseshoe Championships.
Several years later, Burkhardt’s bowling alley in Plymouth was purchased by somebody from Adell. Yep. It was Casey Jones. His place became very popular and you could go in the alley at random times and watch Casey practicing. He would throw bowling balls like horseshoes. Every delivery was the same and 700 series were the norm. He posted many 300 games and several 800 series. He was a delight to watch.
Casey was grooming his son Chuck to take over the bowling alleys. He taught Chuck how to bowl and both posted very high scores.
Then one night, apparently Chuck had been drinking and he stopped his car in the middle of the road near Cascade. He fell down in the road and another car ran him over and killed him. He was early in his early 20’s of age.
For Casey it was never the same. His interest in bowling waned and he eventually sold the business. The magic died.
Every now and then you stumble upon greatness. Casey represented greatness and it was fun to watch. He established a standard that will never be reached by most people in this world. If you happen to witness greatness, enjoy the ride. It is a privledge.
Love,
Dad