Outdoor Plumbing

Growing up we were poor, but I didn’t know it. Our family of six lived in a three-room house my father built, with a screened in back porch where we kids slept without heat, but plenty of blankets. The house sat on about an acre of land on a dirt road on the outskirts of Hutchinson, Kansas. There was ample room for a big garden and fruit trees. Looking back, those were happy times. We four kids had fun playing hide and seek among the various barns for cows, pigs and chickens. We had no indoor plumbing, except for a red pitcher pump that had to be primed when you needed water.

One summer my older brother and I occupied ourselves by digging a new hole for the outdoor privy. It got so deep it was hard to climb out. Mom was ragging and nagging: “Now, you boys just stop digging. It’s deep enough. Just stop it right now or I’m going to tell daddy!” We kept on digging until Mom sicked Pop on to us. Pop explained the consequences if we hit water.

I believe we came mighty close the setting the world record for privy holes. My aunt Davida was one of the first to initiate our accomplishment. She came back in and said to Mom, “My goodness, that is a deep hole.”