I was sick at heart when I got the news that Dale Adell had died. We go back to our freshman year at Beloit High School in 1953. I don’t remember how we first met but it didn’t take us long to become friends. Perhaps it was a bit of an unusual teen friendship as Dale was very involved in all high school athletics and I was not involved at all. The rheumatic fever I had as a child left a heart murmur and the doctor prescribed no strenuous sports. But that didn’t seem to matter - we were the best of friends in short order. Both of us were in band together and we just seemed to “hit-it-off” as the old saying goes.
I have so many good memories of those days and I want to get some of them down on paper while I am still able. Dale went through the eighth grade in Glen Elder, Kansas, his home town. Glen Elder was a little over ten miles west of Beloit -not a long drive - and he decided to come to Beloit for high school. Beloit is the county seat for Mitchell County and the high school was significantly larger than the one in Glen Elder. During bad weather when the road to Glen Elder was icy, Dale would spend the night at my house. Also, when there was a school function or dance at night, Dale and I would double date and then he would spend the night with me in Beloit rather than drive home late. We always had a good time and did a little studying - we just enjoyed being together. I learned several things about Dale early in our friendship. One was that, even as a high school student, he was a person of principles and good morals and you could trust what he said. Also, he was open with his thoughts and feelings and you didn’t have to wonder what was on his mind - he’d always let you know. He had a great sense of humor and I remember well his contagious laugh that would get everyone going when something funny happened.
Now that’s not to say that he was perfect. He and I liked to have a good time and I am going to mention a few occasions that, possibly, even his family didn’t know about. When he started driving to Beloit for high school, he was given his grand dad’s 1950 Chevy, which had less than 20,000 miles on it. The car was like new when he got it. But traveling between Glen Elder and Beloit, he would drive it about as fast as it would go and before too long, the six cylinder engine threw a rod through the engine block (those engines didn’t have the best oiling system) and that was the end of that little creme puff. What happened to the car was common knowledge among the male population of our class but I’m reasonably sure he never told Donald or Verda the cause of the cars demise. Maybe he has now shared this with them in heaven - I don’t think there would be any retribution to pay up there. I can’t remember what he drove to school after the engine in the Chevy blew up but it was probably their 1953 Ford.
When the 1955 Chevys came out in the fall of 1954, Donald bought a new ‘55, coral and charcoal two-tone, with the V-8 engine. There was a straight piece of road on the outskirts of Beloit that was the unofficial drag strip for teenagers. The V-8 Chevys were hot cars and we drag raced the Adel’s new Chevy several times in the course of that school year. The next year Donald bought a ‘56 Chevy V-8 with the power pack option (a 4-barrel carburetor and dual exhausts). It had the Power Glide transmission and, at the drag strip, we quickly figured out that you could hold the Power glide transmission in low range up to about 75 mph, then shift to drive and the car would almost instantly jump to 90 mph. This was definitely a regimen not mentioned in the owner’s manual for the car but we won a lot of drags using it. We never shared these experiences with Dale’s parents nor with mine and as far as I know, they never found out. I’ve often wondered who the poor sucker was that bought the car after it was traded in and whether he had transmission trouble.
Dale took Industrial Arts all four years in high school. When he was a senior, he built a plywood boat from scratch. There were two bachelor brothers who farmed near Beloit. During the winter, they spent their time rebuilding outboard boat motors and Dale bought the most powerful motor they had to go with his boat. It was a Johnson outboard of early ‘30's vintage and these engines were used by racers up into the 1950's and possible the 1960's. Immediately after graduation, he and I (and maybe another classmate or two - I don’t remember) took the boat and motor to the Marion County Lake, near Wichita, where my aunt and uncle had a cabin and spent several days putting his new boat to work. We had a grand time. Of course this was the time of our life when we at the peak of our intelligence: we had a high school degree and no experience and we knew everything! I don’t know about Dale but I have been getting dumber ever since.
During our high school years, Halloween was a glorious occasion for us. I would head from Beloit to Glen Elder shortly before dark and usually I would eat supper at his house. When it was sufficiently dark, we would begin our pranks. At the time, Glen Elder had only one constable and we kept him very busy. The Methodist Church had a bell that you could ring from outside the church and that is where we generally started. From there, we would stay one step ahead of the constable as we tipped over privies (yes, they still had some in use), rolled empty 55 gallon drums from the Coop gas station downhill and into the town square, and engaged in other mischief. Our last stop was the Methodist Church to ring the bell again before we headed for Beloit to spend the night at my house. The constable never caught up with us but I remember that one year as we were heading out of town on the back road to US 24, we met a highway patrol car heading into Glen Elder with his light flashing. We just kept going and made it to my house without being caught.
From Mike Smith, 1/7/2011
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