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MEMORIES OF C.G. (GAIL) AND CECIL AVERY
By Steve Moreland, January 18, 2019
Recently while visiting with a few friends, our memories turned to C.G. (Gail) Avery, well-driller supreme. Gail married Cecil Johnson. Their names always seemed to me to be in reverse, because Gail was the man, and Cecil was the lady. Gail was born in 1914 in Violet, Nebraska and attended school in nearby Pawnee City. After his father was killed in an accident while unloading cattle from a railroad car, Gail cut hedge posts to earn enough money to come west. He worked along the way at various farms. He helped paint a church, where the minister asked him if he could paint flowers, and Gail answered no. Later the minister came, looked around the flower bed, and said, "I thought you told me you couldn't paint flowers." Gail migrated on west, and worked at a variety of jobs. He married Cecil Johnson in 1938, and they came to Gordon where he worked for Roy Rash, a well driller, for several years.
Gail was called into military service in 1944. He was stationed in the Philippines as a Seabee for the Navy, where he worked on construction. Gail Avery then worked for Peter Kiewit Construction, traveling extensively. He worked on dams at Ogallala, Nebraska, the Grand Coulee in the state of Washington, and others. One time a wooden water main broke, causing a ditch to cave in and catch a man. Gail was the foreman and yelled for the others to dig him out. The water was rising rapidly, but the man was saved. Gail and Cecil moved to Rapid City, where he worked at the Ellsworth Air Force Base, and then it was on to Garrison, North Dakota before it was a town. His job was installing water and sewer mains as carpenters were building new homes right behind them, working so fast that they nearly nailed the coattails of the men ahead.
In 1950, Gail Avery with his brother-in-law Melvin Ostrander as a partner bought the well-drilling machine from Bill German of Merriman. He sold his first well machine to Lester Leach and bought another one from Virgil and Nadine Gardner Havener in 1956. He purchased a bigger machine in 1979 and used it until 1983, at which time he retired and sold out to his great-nephew Michael Piper.
My own memories of Gail Avery go back to when I was a little kid. Whenever my dad, Bob Moreland, needed a new well or windmill work of any kind, C.G. (Gail) Avery was the well-driller who was called. My first recollection is watching several well trucks pull into the yard by my folks' house. There were four vehicles but only three men as drivers. A pickup installed with a tow-bar was hooked behind one of the big trucks. The only occupant of the pickup was a dog, and it was hunkered over the steering wheel, looking for all the world to me like it was driving unassisted. Being only about four years old at the time, I felt quite inadequate that the dog had the ability to drive but I didn't.
In the spring of 1962, our house well had gone bad. Gail and his crew were drilling quite close to the house, and they weren't done but were winding up for the day. Some shallow ditches had been dug by hand, along with a deep pit about three feet across and five feet deep. The truck motors were quiet while the men were gathering up equipment. I was 10 years old, and my sisters, Sandra (7) and Sybil (4), were playing out in the yard. Seeing the tempting muddy water, they had put on their little overshoes and were walking in the shallow furrow. Sybil was in the lead, and she walked right over the edge into the five-foot deep pit. She could nowhere near touch the bottom, and her blond hair floating on top of the water was all that could be seen. Jim Byers, a young man who worked on our ranch at the time, was nearby. He heroically pulled my little sister out of what could have been a tragic situation.
Gail Avery was a very capable expert at drilling wells, and he hired competent men to assist him. They were, however, known to be both hard workers and hard drinkers. Often times, they would get done with a water well related project by mid-afternoon, but then get hung up at Merriman's Sand Bar for several hours. Sometimes it was a wonder they arrived back in Gordon with their trucks still in travelable condition. Gail's wife Cecil was quite a gal and a real "diamond in the rough." She worked as hard as, or harder than any man, and finally decided she'd best quit her town job to supervise the well-drillers. Her former employment had been with Gordon Memorial Hospital, working with Drs. Wanek, Wolf, Vaughn, and John Anderson. Her most recent occupation had been as a telephone operator with Northwestern Bell for ten years. When she became part of the well drilling crew, a more business-like atmosphere prevailed.
Gail Avery's well truck had "endless" chains that needed to be oiled when the rig was being used. Gail wore bib overalls, and he kept an oil can in his side pocket. When the chains were in motion, he operated a hydraulic handle in each hand, but would occasionally reach into his pocket to get out the oil can to squirt oil onto the chains. One day when Cecil was part of the crew, she could tell that even though Gail had started out sober, he seemed to be getting a little drunker as the day progressed. She looked everywhere but couldn't see where he had hidden his liquor stash. By day's end, Gail grew a little careless, and Cecil caught him squirting something into his mouth from a long-necked newer shinier-than-normal oil can. The ruse had worked for quite a while before he got caught.
Zale Quible tells of one day when Gail and Cecil were in one of his summer pastures working on a well. Gail was the "doctor," and Cecil was the "nurse." As they both worked together inside the cribbing of the windmill, Doctor Gail needed a pair of vice-grips "yesterday," if not sooner. Nurse Cecil scurried over the cribbing and to the truck to get the pliers. She hurriedly arrived back at the job site, and held the vice-grips in close proximity for Doctor Gail to see. He was intent upon his task, and seemed to ignore her. Finally she kind of winked at Zale, who was standing nearby, and clamped the vice-grips onto the brim of Doctor Gail's cap. Then he did come unglued. Nurse Cecil just laughed as the air turned blue. Sometimes it was quite entertaining to watch as Gail and Cecil would argue and fight like cats and dogs while a job was in progress, but when they were done, they always seemed to kiss and make up.
Gail and Cecil Avery drilled a new well on the site where our trailer house was to be located south of Merriman on the old Leach place, before Carol and I got married in the spring of 1979. They even offered to move a wind-charger tower from where it was located nearby, as our wedding present.
Carol and I had an outdoor wedding along the south side of the Niobrara River, at Tom and Karen Cobb's ranch. This was an 8:00 a.m. Saturday morning ceremony on the 23rd of June. As Gail and Cecil Avery were running late, Gail had the "pedal to the metal," and a highway patrolman pulled him over for speeding. That little problem was enough to make them miss the actual wedding ceremony, and to also have to pay an eighty dollar fine. Jim Gray lived on the Niobrara River bottom a few miles west of the wedding location. He also had good intentions of attending our matrimony ceremony. A first-calf two-year-old heifer was having calving difficulties. By the time he saddled his horse, got her into the barn and pulled her calf, he, too missed our wedding. Great memories of great people.
By Steve Moreland, January 18, 2019
Recently while visiting with a few friends, our memories turned to C.G. (Gail) Avery, well-driller supreme. Gail married Cecil Johnson. Their names always seemed to me to be in reverse, because Gail was the man, and Cecil was the lady. Gail was born in 1914 in Violet, Nebraska and attended school in nearby Pawnee City. After his father was killed in an accident while unloading cattle from a railroad car, Gail cut hedge posts to earn enough money to come west. He worked along the way at various farms. He helped paint a church, where the minister asked him if he could paint flowers, and Gail answered no. Later the minister came, looked around the flower bed, and said, "I thought you told me you couldn't paint flowers." Gail migrated on west, and worked at a variety of jobs. He married Cecil Johnson in 1938, and they came to Gordon where he worked for Roy Rash, a well driller, for several years.
Gail was called into military service in 1944. He was stationed in the Philippines as a Seabee for the Navy, where he worked on construction. Gail Avery then worked for Peter Kiewit Construction, traveling extensively. He worked on dams at Ogallala, Nebraska, the Grand Coulee in the state of Washington, and others. One time a wooden water main broke, causing a ditch to cave in and catch a man. Gail was the foreman and yelled for the others to dig him out. The water was rising rapidly, but the man was saved. Gail and Cecil moved to Rapid City, where he worked at the Ellsworth Air Force Base, and then it was on to Garrison, North Dakota before it was a town. His job was installing water and sewer mains as carpenters were building new homes right behind them, working so fast that they nearly nailed the coattails of the men ahead.
In 1950, Gail Avery with his brother-in-law Melvin Ostrander as a partner bought the well-drilling machine from Bill German of Merriman. He sold his first well machine to Lester Leach and bought another one from Virgil and Nadine Gardner Havener in 1956. He purchased a bigger machine in 1979 and used it until 1983, at which time he retired and sold out to his great-nephew Michael Piper.
My own memories of Gail Avery go back to when I was a little kid. Whenever my dad, Bob Moreland, needed a new well or windmill work of any kind, C.G. (Gail) Avery was the well-driller who was called. My first recollection is watching several well trucks pull into the yard by my folks' house. There were four vehicles but only three men as drivers. A pickup installed with a tow-bar was hooked behind one of the big trucks. The only occupant of the pickup was a dog, and it was hunkered over the steering wheel, looking for all the world to me like it was driving unassisted. Being only about four years old at the time, I felt quite inadequate that the dog had the ability to drive but I didn't.
In the spring of 1962, our house well had gone bad. Gail and his crew were drilling quite close to the house, and they weren't done but were winding up for the day. Some shallow ditches had been dug by hand, along with a deep pit about three feet across and five feet deep. The truck motors were quiet while the men were gathering up equipment. I was 10 years old, and my sisters, Sandra (7) and Sybil (4), were playing out in the yard. Seeing the tempting muddy water, they had put on their little overshoes and were walking in the shallow furrow. Sybil was in the lead, and she walked right over the edge into the five-foot deep pit. She could nowhere near touch the bottom, and her blond hair floating on top of the water was all that could be seen. Jim Byers, a young man who worked on our ranch at the time, was nearby. He heroically pulled my little sister out of what could have been a tragic situation.
Gail Avery was a very capable expert at drilling wells, and he hired competent men to assist him. They were, however, known to be both hard workers and hard drinkers. Often times, they would get done with a water well related project by mid-afternoon, but then get hung up at Merriman's Sand Bar for several hours. Sometimes it was a wonder they arrived back in Gordon with their trucks still in travelable condition. Gail's wife Cecil was quite a gal and a real "diamond in the rough." She worked as hard as, or harder than any man, and finally decided she'd best quit her town job to supervise the well-drillers. Her former employment had been with Gordon Memorial Hospital, working with Drs. Wanek, Wolf, Vaughn, and John Anderson. Her most recent occupation had been as a telephone operator with Northwestern Bell for ten years. When she became part of the well drilling crew, a more business-like atmosphere prevailed.
Gail Avery's well truck had "endless" chains that needed to be oiled when the rig was being used. Gail wore bib overalls, and he kept an oil can in his side pocket. When the chains were in motion, he operated a hydraulic handle in each hand, but would occasionally reach into his pocket to get out the oil can to squirt oil onto the chains. One day when Cecil was part of the crew, she could tell that even though Gail had started out sober, he seemed to be getting a little drunker as the day progressed. She looked everywhere but couldn't see where he had hidden his liquor stash. By day's end, Gail grew a little careless, and Cecil caught him squirting something into his mouth from a long-necked newer shinier-than-normal oil can. The ruse had worked for quite a while before he got caught.
Zale Quible tells of one day when Gail and Cecil were in one of his summer pastures working on a well. Gail was the "doctor," and Cecil was the "nurse." As they both worked together inside the cribbing of the windmill, Doctor Gail needed a pair of vice-grips "yesterday," if not sooner. Nurse Cecil scurried over the cribbing and to the truck to get the pliers. She hurriedly arrived back at the job site, and held the vice-grips in close proximity for Doctor Gail to see. He was intent upon his task, and seemed to ignore her. Finally she kind of winked at Zale, who was standing nearby, and clamped the vice-grips onto the brim of Doctor Gail's cap. Then he did come unglued. Nurse Cecil just laughed as the air turned blue. Sometimes it was quite entertaining to watch as Gail and Cecil would argue and fight like cats and dogs while a job was in progress, but when they were done, they always seemed to kiss and make up.
Gail and Cecil Avery drilled a new well on the site where our trailer house was to be located south of Merriman on the old Leach place, before Carol and I got married in the spring of 1979. They even offered to move a wind-charger tower from where it was located nearby, as our wedding present.
Carol and I had an outdoor wedding along the south side of the Niobrara River, at Tom and Karen Cobb's ranch. This was an 8:00 a.m. Saturday morning ceremony on the 23rd of June. As Gail and Cecil Avery were running late, Gail had the "pedal to the metal," and a highway patrolman pulled him over for speeding. That little problem was enough to make them miss the actual wedding ceremony, and to also have to pay an eighty dollar fine. Jim Gray lived on the Niobrara River bottom a few miles west of the wedding location. He also had good intentions of attending our matrimony ceremony. A first-calf two-year-old heifer was having calving difficulties. By the time he saddled his horse, got her into the barn and pulled her calf, he, too missed our wedding. Great memories of great people.