Stories by Franklin's Children
As Written by Joe Bradley (son of Franklin Bradley).
As a member of Generation Five, J. Frank & Jeanette Bradley were my paternal grandparents. What I remember about the Farm on 38 North West of Racine or just east of Franksville and their last home in Somers. The stately white three story home was big, very big to young eyes. Its winding stair case that came down into the front entry must have made any young princess coming down for that special dance or wedding, swelled with pride and anticipation. My Aunt Elinor Bradley came down that stair case to greet her prince, Roger Biddick. They took their wedding vows in the front room in front of the charming fireplace. I was too young to remember this wedding, but my older sister Candy remembered the bride coming down the stairs.
The rest of the house is somewhat of a mystery. The kitchen was a galley kitchen or in todays terms as a “one butt kitchen”, very narrow but deep. There was a very nice dining area as well as a larger front room. The second floor had the bedroom and a bath room. The main thing I remember were the two stuffed Blue Jays that were in a glass display case. Then there was the apartment on the third floor with a kitchen added at ground level. Looking up that interior second stair case, there must have been 500 steps to the top. When Morris Bradley boys looked at that they must have thought they were climbing to heave. Don’t I sound like a real estate agent?
As a young person I enjoyed going to see Grandma & Grandpa Bradley although we only got there three or four times a year. When the day came that we went to see dad’s folks and the cousins, Mother would have the girls up early so that they could help get the chores done early. It was neat to have all five of us in the barn working together. About the time the sun was coming up we were out the door heading east right into the sun. Being kids and siblings we would FIGHT. The solution to this was to put the boy in the first seat between Mother & Dad. No sun visor, so very bright all the way over. Dad did not want to leave very early so it was the same thing on the way back, driving west into the sun again.
When at the farm, I remember Grandpa milking in the parlor. I think it was a step up, but not sure. I do not know if there was a pipeline or just a step savor line into the milk room. In the milk room there were several milk cans that had covers on them with two spigots on the top of the each can. The milk would come in from the cow and go into the first milk can, when this can was full the milk would flow through a plastic milk hose into the next until all milk cans were full. From here the cans were wheeled up to the milk house to be cooled. Grandpa was always forward thinking. Today one of the things that amazed me is the bunker silo he was using in the early 1950’s. He used his little green John Deere crawler tractor for packing the forage. It was not until the late 80’s or early 90’s that this became standard practice for storing forages in well packed bunker silos.
Grandma Bradley (Jeannette) was a small lady in statue but a dominating force. Like all good & loving wives, she kept J. Frank in line. As she grew older the arthritis in her hands meant she was in a great deal of pain most of the time. On one occasion as we were leaving the big white house to return to Evansville. My dad turned to me and said “I wish you could know your grandmother as I knew her.” In her last years she was very hard on J. Frank. When they came to visit, it was always a surprise. All of a sudden their yellow and white 1956 Dodge car would come right up to the back door. It must have always been at meal time because I remembering Mother telling us to help Grandma into the house. They would stay a couple days and then would be off. They were in Evansville the day of the live changing hail storm came through. Grandpa said he watch the kitchen window bow in and out like rubber before it exploded through-out the kitchen. After Grandma died and the last time Grandpa was at dad’s farm in Evansville, he was still driving his 56 Dodge, Candy’s husband Ace and I were trying to convince him that he needed to buy a brand new bright red Dodge Charger. Needless to say that did not fly.
As grandparents they were kind, but distant and very hard to talk to. Always willing to help, but quiet. They seemed to be very moral people. Things were right or things were wrong and that was the way it was! When they did speak their statements were well thought out. Education must have been very high value to them. Both of them had education beyond high school and all three of their children graduated from the University of Wisconsin. Just imagine of how thinking outside of the box must have impacted their lives. Dad told me the last horse left the farm when he was 14. They knew civil war veterans and Viet Nam veterans and all wars or conflicts in between. They read about Wright Brothers flying and saw 707 jets fly. One time when I was at Grandpa’s farm, he was standing watching a long freight train across the field. He was counting the cars. He told me he had always dreamed of being an engineer on the rail road and loved to watch trains.
The last thing Grandpa taught me was on the day that he was buried. I was 21 and I was standing next to my father looking into the casket. It hit me that the man laying there had spent 80 years living life with all of its ups and downs and I had never taken the time to learn from his wisdom. In a matter of moments all of that wisdom died with him. If at all possible I am hoping we can pass on some wisdom to your grandchildren.
Joseph Franklin Bradley Generation 5