True Confessions of Young Train Hoppers

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October 29, 2025

Last week I wrote about Miltonvale, the town of Tom, Dick, and Harry. Rarely I have joined the three boys for tea in the afternoon when they sometimes tell stories about when they were kids.

Anyway, during one of the sessions, they talked about how Dick was sometimes assigned the task of taking care of Harry while Harry was a toddler.

One story that Harry remembers is when Dick would pick him up and put him down the laundry chute where Harry had a soft landing in a pile of dirty laundry in the basement.

I asked Harry, “Wasn’t that scary to be dropped down the laundry chute?”

And Harry told me, “Yeah, at first. But then as I got a little older, I would jump down the laundry chute myself for a short-cut to the basement.”

Another memory was one that Dick talked about—how he and his friend Bill used to play around the railroad tracks downtown all day. One day while there were there, Dick and Bill accidentally took their first train ride.

Here is how it went. That day, Dick and Bill were inside a boxcar playing when the train began moving. Instead of bailing off, they stayed on the train for their first ride. At that time, the train usually stopped at every little town. The first town after Miltonvale was Aurora.

So, when the train stopped in Aurora, the boys jumped off and played in Aurora until a train heading toward Miltonvale came back through. They hopped on the train and rode back home. When asked where they had been, Dick told his mother they had been playing around downtown at the railroad tracks—partly true.

Bill’s mother, now deceased, first learned about Dick and Bill’s train ride capers after I wrote about it for the Miltonvale Record a few years ago. Dick’s mother probably never found out before her death in 2008.

So, from then on—I’m not sure how many times—the two boys took train rides as far as Concordia and back until the conductor became wise to what they were doing.

Another train confession came from Merlin A. who has since passed. He told the story while at Senior Citizens. Merlin said, “I used to ride that railroad track from Oakhill to Longford,” Merlin said that he and some other boys would put a car on the railroad tracks for a ride.

One time, when he and his friends were riding the tracks, someone jerked the steering wheel, causing the car to jump off the tracks while the car was on a bridge. Merlin said they knew there was a possibility a train might come along and said it was scary to look down off the bridge. He also said they had a hard time getting the car back on the tracks again.

Merlin also talked about how his first-grade teacher took his class on a train ride from Miltonvale to Clay Center, then they rode back in vehicles—a memorable day for a six-year-old.

There was another true confession of a train hopping by Harry. By then, Harry was a teenager. He said they would put the car on the tracks at a train crossing and let some of the air out of the car tires.

Harry said they learned they did not have to let as much air out as they first thought. He said they just put the car in low gear and let it go—no need to steer. He said that if the car went too fast, the car could jump the tracks.

Harry said he and his friends would put the car on the tracks in Miltonvale and ride to Concordia. He said Concordia is only about 17 miles by rail rather than 25.

While in Concordia, they partied and drank some beer. Then they turned the car around and headed back home, sometimes taking a little beer home with them. No need for a designated driver—the car knew the way home.

So, there you have it—train tales from Tootleville—childhood stories of three young Miltonvale train hoppers.

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Lettuce Eat Local: Getting A Cold Shoulder

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Guest Columnist

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October 29, 2025

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Amanda Miller
Columnist
Lettuce Eat Local

It happens every year, and every year, I am unprepared.
The cold. It comes.
It doesn’t come quite like clockwork, more like axial-tilt-work as the seasons change, but the temperatures always drop at some point. Our average first frost date in this area is October 16, and although this next week looks like it will dip pretty close, I still don’t think we’ll quite get down to 32 degrees yet. So even though the warmer weather has hung around mercifully late, I’m still not ready.
I’m not ready for socks, for shoes, for actual pants. I live in my Chaco sandals, and I like it that way. As reliable as the weather change every year is my fatuous dissent from it. Though I often get cold easily, fall finds me waging my personal war against colder temperatures; “You can’t make me put on shoes!” I yell and shake my fist at the sky, shivering in my shorts.
Spoiler alert: it is very ineffective.
So as I sit here defeatedly yet comfortably ensconced in my slippers, leggings, and sweatshirt, I think of the garden. It’s outside obviously, in the dreary cold, so I’ll simply think about it from my cozy vantage point inside until I actually have to go out. There hasn’t been much left of our garden for a while now, not since the grasshoppers and army worms ravaged it, but now everyone else’s garden is starting to look sparse too. The last bits and bobs of everything are being harvested, or even possibly abandoned to wage their own war against the weather after a long enough gardening season.
Some gardeners bid farewell to their plants with lament, I’m sure, although more often than not I detect at least a hint of vindictive glee at the close of the warm months. I experience both sides of the emotions, varying in leaning and intensity with the years.
I haven’t sobbed exactly when I’ve had to go out and gather up all remaining fruits the evening ahead of a frost, but it certainly isn’t my favorite activity; all those poor unripe tomatoes and peppers, only reaching their partial potential.
At the same time, there is something undeniably satisfying about ripping out scraggly plants that did their job (or not), and are ready to call it quits right alongside you. The hours and hours spent in the garden were a valuable part of spring and summer, but now we’re done.
It’s time to pick the fall green beans for the last time, time to dig those sweet potatoes, time to put some pumpkins on the porch or on the dinner table. We didn’t have any of the usual tomatoes and peppers to finish up this year, but fortunately, generous others did, so we have a bag of beautiful bell peppers that got left on our kitchen table. They will creep into our meals for the next couple weeks, reminding us of warmer weather while simultaneously fitting well into warming dinners.
Which is nice, because my toes are still cold.
Lettuce Eat Local is a weekly local foods column by Amanda Miller, who lives in rural Reno County on the family dairy farm with her husband and two small children. She seeks to help build connections through food with her community, the earth, and the God who created it all. Send feedback and recipe ideas to [email protected].

Unstuffed Pepper Casserole

I love the idea of stuffed peppers, but eating them turns into a bit of a mess (at least for us) and you eventually just cut them up into pieces anyway. Enter unstuffed peppers, which is not only easier to eat but also to make. It’s no longer a shame to turn on the oven, and just as the garden is yielding the last bits and bobs, so this recipe can work great to use up the leftovers from here and there.
Prep tips: this is also easy to fix ahead to bake later, or to freeze for a quick winter meal.

1 pound ground hamburger
1 large onion, diced
3 cups cooked brown rice
3 cups black beans, drained
2 cups tomato sauce or pureed fresh tomatoes
½ cup barbeque sauce
salt, pepper, red pepper
several bell peppers, any color, large diced
½ pound sharp cheddar cheese, shredded
Brown hamburger and onion in a large skillet or pot. Stir in rice, beans, and sauces; adding salt, pepper, and red pepper to taste. Transfer to a baking dish, then top with a full layer of diced peppers and the cheese. Bake uncovered at 375° for about half an hour, until the peppers are tender.

A Cousin’s Farewell and Autumn Chores

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Guest Columnist

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October 29, 2025

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Lovina’s Amish Kitchen
Lovina Eitcher,
Old Order Amish
Cook, Wife &
Mother of Eight

This is Tuesday morning just past 5:00. My husband Joe left for another day at the metal and truss shop. Son Benjamin left around 4:30. Son Kevin is still sleeping, and I need to get this column written so it’s done for another week. I’m always glad when my children volunteer to write it. Daughter Verena penned it recently and I keep telling Kevin to get his pen going again. We will see….Haha!

I packed the men’s lunches with leftovers from last night’s supper. I made mac and cheese, then grilled some ham and pork chops we still had in the freezer from last winter from the pork we butchered. I grilled it on my gas grill on our front porch and it sure didn’t take long. Joe said it was very tender and cooked just right. He loved it so I felt like I received a very nice compliment hearing that from an expert at grilling meat. He doesn’t like when the meat is not cooked enough or too dry. Joe prefers grilling on a charcoal grill and does not care to use a gas grill. He gave me this gas grill for my birthday one year. He tried it a few times and decided he didn’t like it. He almost started a fire the last time so I kind of banned him from using it. Haha! He thinks you start it like a charcoal grill where you let it get really hot before you start cooking. When I came out there he had all 5 burners on high which didn’t work too good for hamburgers. He said I can have my gas grill and he’ll keep his charcoal grill. I prefer the taste of charcoal grilled meat too, but this is so much easier for me to step outside and check the food. Well enough about that….sometimes I’m glad Joe doesn’t read my columns. He says he knows everything already that I write about. There have been a few times when someone asks him about something I wrote about him. He says, “Wait, how do you know that?” I’m thinking….Oops! That is what it’s like when you are married to a writer. Our minds wander and before you know it, stories of your family find their way into your column.

Sunday we attended the funeral of my cousin Barbara’s husband Jonas, age 56 from Lagrange, Indiana. What a shock to hear of his sudden death from a work accident. Jonas leaves to mourn his grieving widow, twelve children (four that are married) with the youngest being nine. Also left behind are his widowed mother, seven brothers, seven sisters, sixteen grandchildren, plus a lot of extended family. The funeral was very largely attended with it being held in three different buildings to accommodate all the people that attended. Jonas and Barbara were both neighbors to me growing up and we went to the same school. Jonas has a sister Katie that was in my grade in school. We have many fun memories of those days. We would go to each other’s house overnight for birthdays, etc. I had not seen Katie in years. Her husband Randy passed away from cancer so she is also a widow. With the long line at the viewing on Saturday and the huge crowd of people at the funeral I didn’t get a chance to say more than a few words to Katie. Our sympathy to cousin Barbara and all of the family. She still has seven sons and a daughter living at home with her. Such a big responsibility to raise on her own. May God guide them through this difficult trial in life and ease their pain.

Son-in-law Daniel Ray has a new leaf blower and is trying it out on our many leaves that are falling. He burned a huge pile already and you can hardly tell with more leaves falling every day.

God’s blessings to all!

PUMPKIN WHOOPIE PIES

1 3/4 cups brown sugar

1 cup vegetable oil

1 1/2 cups pumpkin

2 eggs

3 cups flour

1 teaspoon baking powder

1 teaspoon baking soda

1 teaspoon vanilla

1 1/2 teaspoon cinnamon

1 teaspoon salt

Filling

4 ounces cream cheese, softened

1/4 cup butter, softened

1 teaspoon vanilla

3 cups powdered sugar

Cream sugar and oil, add pumpkin, eggs and vanilla, blend well. Add dry ingredients and mix well. Drop by teaspoons full on a greased cookie sheet and flatten slightly. Bake at 350 degrees for 10 minutes or until a toothpick inserted comes out clean. Mix filling ingredients together. Take two cookies and spread filling in between. Makes 20 whoopie pies

Lovina’s Amish Kitchen is written by Lovina Eicher, Old Order Amish writer, cook, wife, and mother of eight. Her three cookbooks, The Cherished Table, The Essential Amish Cookbook, and Amish Family Recipes, are available wherever books are sold. Readers can write to Eicher at Lovina’s Amish Kitchen, PO Box 234, Sturgis, MI 49091 (please include a self-addressed stamped envelope for a reply); or email [email protected] and your message will be passed on to her to read. She does not personally respond to emails.

Man’s Best Friend, we Love You!

By

Steve Gilliland

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October 28, 2025

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Today I want to pay homage to man’s best friend, for nowhere is man’s best friend appreciated more than in the world of outdoor sportsmen. They sit beside us in hunting blinds; often so close they’re nearly beneath us. They help us carry our gear to and from campsites, the boat, the woods and even back to the truck when the excursion is over. They are perfectly at home in the pickup, whether in the back, on the floor or in the seat beside us. They require very little in the way of maintenance, perhaps an occasional scrubbing to keep them squeaky clean. Yet, these stalwart companions provide us with years of dedicated, selfless service. Of course, I’m talking about man’s best friend, the plastic 5-gallon bucket.

I wish they had existed when I was a kid. Oh, we had 5-gallon buckets, but not plastic. Dad had a hanging feed bunk in the barn and if you couldn’t surprise the steers and beat them to the bunk at feeding time, the only way to survive the ordeal was to beat them out of the way with the bucket. I ruined more metal buckets that way than I care to remember. Had they been plastic, they’d have lasted forever. But, like I stated above, no one depends upon plastic 5-gallon buckets more than the outdoor sports enthusiast. They come in white, gray, green, black and camouflage. They can have metal handles or plastic. They are the ultimate seat / equipment carrier rolled into one.

No fisherman worth his or her fish and chips will have less than half-a-dozen, and that’s just in the boat. Be sure to designate one on the boat for those inopportune times when the need arises to relieve yourself of your morning coffee in the middle of the lake, an especially useful feature for your wife or girlfriend. Although a tad large, they also work well for bailing out water rushing into the boat when you fail to put the drain plug back into the drain hole in the transom before leaving the dock. When ice fishing, 2 nice white ones (to color coordinate with your surroundings) will carry your rods, tackle, bait and lunch onto the ice. One turned upside down will then become your seat, while the other holds your fish. Fitted with a lid of some description, one bucket can do both. When a fish is caught, simply jump up, lift the lid, deposit the fish then close the lid and repose yourself again. For you intense ice fishermen (you know who you are) this also hides your catch from prying eyes. In any fishing situation, plastic 5-gallon buckets are the ideal tool for transporting fish. Once home, they again spring into action as the supreme vessel to hold all the “by-product” when cleaning your catch. Bass Pro even sells a fish cleaning board specially made to fit the top of one. I also found a kit containing all the necessary parts to turn a 5-gallon bucket into an aerated bait container.

Though fishing seems to bring out the best in 5-gallon buckets, hunters also benefit from them. Again, they are the cat’s meow for carrying equipment to and from a blind or stand. To carry all my trapping supplies, I use one fitted with a canvas tool carrier. Though small camp chairs are probably more comfortable for a long wait, the buckets again excel as seats. Cabela’s offers a variety of seats, all made to fit 5-gallon buckets. One named the “Silent Spin Bucket Seat,” is equipped with bearings like a lazy Susan, allowing a hunter to swivel and see in different directions. This seat can be purchased alone, with an added storage pouch that drapes around the bucket, or with an attached

“stadium” seat, complete with back. Kits are also available with all the components needed to convert our friend the bucket into a hanging deer feeder (a nice camouflage colored number is probably best suited here.)

Not a hunter or fisherman, and feeling left out?… Wait, there’s more! What’s the most logical use for a plastic 5-gallon bucket around the campsite?… Right you are! I found several products to turn 5-gallon buckets into portable camp toilets. One called “Luggable Loo” is a toilet seat and lid that the company says, “effortlessly snaps on and off” any 5-gallon bucket, and allows you to “Stop dreading the call of nature when enjoying your next hunting, fishing or camping trip.” Now if you truly do dread “the call of nature” you may have some deeper problems than where to answer it. Anyway, they should probably make one in pink for the ladies and call it Luggable Louis. Just remember, these things won’t flush and don’t set over a hole in the ground so you become responsible for disposing of the contents! Please take the high ground here and empty them at the camps designated dumping station. Don’t nonchalantly toss it under the neighbor’s camper and try to blame it on their big dog.

Someone has said that there is no greater force in the universe than that force that holds 5-gallon buckets together when stacked. We buy them full of some product, use the product, and are left with the bucket, which, in some cases, is probably more useful than the product inside. So, after reading this, find you best friend and give them a little extra attention; kiss your wife and scratch the dog too while you’re at it…Continue to Explore Kansas Outdoors!

Steve can be contacted by email at [email protected]