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Rated: 18+ · Book · Experience · #1070119
It's all her fault.
#421577 added April 25, 2006 at 12:58am
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Uncle Hayes at the Campbell Mansion, Part 1
For this story, I’ll have to give credit to my Uncle Hayes. He was a great person to be around, always good for a joke or to teach how to hunt, fish, or to survive the land. But most of all, he too had his stories – and what yarns he could tell.

He told us this one while we were on a fishing trip at the Kinnikinick River. We had just finished eating. Tents were up. The fire was blazing in the cool night air. We were sitting back drinking coffee when Uncle Hayes asked my brothers and me, “Did I ever tell you boys about the time I worked in the old Campbell mansion?”

We shook our heads no, and Uncle Hayes began.

“Yes, sir, I did. That was one of the best jobs I had, in a way. Let me see here, the Campbells, they were the original Campbells who founded a lot of these here counties, becoming rich along the way. The mansion was originally built in the eighteen hundreds, then through the years and generations, they kept adding on or modernizing it with electricity, indoor plumbing, and so on.

“As their kids grew and left to find their own places in life, the Campbells started traveling around, hardly ever coming back. They had other homes all over the states and some even overseas, I heard. About the only ones who were there most of the time were their help. Butler, maids, even a chauffeur. Eventually, the time came to pass that they took some of their hired help with them and the house just sat empty. It was after that when they finally decided they would sell the old place, after all, they never used it anyhow. That’s where I came in.

“It had sat empty for a long time with no one to take care of it, so I got hired to do the repairs to get it ready to sell. The Campbells said I could stay anywhere I wanted there and they would have tabs set up at the local hardware and grocery stores for anything I needed. Now this was in 1954. Just think of it, it wouldn’t cost me a dime. I didn’t have to pay for food or a place to stay, not even a nail, and I got paid 75 cents an hour to boot. I was in hog heaven.

“When I got there, I had a look around, to gauge whether I might need some extra help. I knew I could call on Dad or my brother if I did. Shucks, they could stay there free and all I would have to do is share some of my pay with them. Just from that first look around, I seen plenty that I could do by myself first.

“I decided I would stay in the old chauffeur’s place in the back, since most of my work was on the main house anyway. Boy, I tell ya, that chauffeur fella had it made. I guess you would call it a garage apartment. There was space to park three cars underneath and had a carport as well. There was a door to the left of the carport and that door led upstairs to his living quarters. Once I got up there, I was amazed at just how big it was.

“There was a small flight of stairs that led up to the first landing and a window that looked out the back where deliveries came in. I turned right and there was the second flight of stairs that went up to the living space. Wow, was it nice. I stopped in the living room area which was large, then turned around and saw there was a small kitchen. Next to that was a small bathroom and a bedroom with a closet. This place was bigger than most folks’ houses that I knew. It was in better shape than the main house was, there were just a few things in the garage that needed tending to, but that was pretty much it. I was planning on using the garage part as my workshop and storage for lumber that I was going to need.

“I got myself settled in, turned the refrigerator on, let the water run ‘til the rust came out of the pipes, dusted around, and washed down the counter where I was going to eat. Then I put my bedroll on the floor and checked the refrigerator and it was cooling down just fine. I then headed back downstairs and opened the garage, backed my truck in and unloaded my tools, then got back into my truck and left to get groceries .

“When I returned back to the house, after I put the groceries away, I went back downstairs, set up my saw horses and checked to see that I had all the tools I might need. I went and got out my pencil and pad and started looking around the outside of the main house, taking notes about the house itself and looking to see what might need replacing.

** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only **
The Campbell Mansion as it looks today.
(Some alterations have been made since 1954.)


“There were twenty-six window screens on the upper floor, seventeen on the lower, and those were all bigger screens. One front screen door, one side screen door, one back screen door. Front entrance: brick stair case with wood porch, brick all around porch, four column supports to roof which also support the upper balcony. Roof overhang: about five feet resting on columns. Attic: one window in front, one each side, one in back. Right side of house upstairs: master bedroom built off the side of the house over driveway, four brick support columns. Staircase leading up to side door: completely brick.

Man, what a place, I thought. It was getting dark, so I headed back to the garage apartment with plans to have a bite to eat, check over my notes again, then turn in for the night so I could get up and start on my inside notes and lists of what I needed.

“I made a makeshift table by using my other pair of sawhorses and a board, then made chairs out of leftover crates that I found in the garage. As I sat in the small kitchen, going over my notes, I thought about how lucky I’d been to get this job. My dad was asked to do this. He knew a lot of the Campbells and did work for them before, but he was too busy and had told them that I was just as good at fixing things as he was. So they gave him the keys and told him to get me. That sure made me feel mighty proud, that he would say that. He was, after all, the one who taught me.

“When I finished eating and went to bed, it was around nine-thirty or so. I fell asleep in the quiet but woke to a noise. I sat up and listened. In an empty place, everything echoes so it could have been anything. Then I heard it again.

“It sounded like someone was coming up the stairs.”

...To be continued...

© Copyright 2006 TeflonMike (UN: teflonmike at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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