Alfredisms

The Polk Progress was a Nebraska treasure that ceased publication in late 1989 after 82 years as a weekly newspaper. From 1955 until its last issue, the editor and publisher was the late Norris Alfred. In its last few months, the Progress had 900 subscribers in 45 states. Alfred was a remarkable Nebraskan with an uncanny eye for connecting the present with the future. Prairie Fire has collaborated with the Alfred family, the University of Nebraska School of Journalism and the Nebraska State Historical Society to locate and archive many of Norris's writings. We are capitalizing on our good fortune to present many of the Norris Alfred writings to our readership. We believe that his observations are as fresh and relevant to today's world as they were when originally written.

“Polking Around”
Oct. 7, 1971

Since 1955, when we first assumed the responsibility of publishing the Polk Progress, we have watched, and at times, recorded, the changes in Main Street businesses and farming. Our observations have confirmed the Great Truth—where there are humans there is change, and not necessarily for the better. We are not thinking about changes we can see in the mirror. The process of aging is a natural one which is hastened by the worries and anxieties of weekly newspaper publishing. The furrowed brow, twitching ears, slack jaw, reddened nose, watery eyes, thinned hair, stooped posture and limping step are the rewards of our work which we accept with the usual amount of necessary groaning.

Can anyone recall what they were thinking about in 1955—their hopes, dreams, ambitions? When we took over the Progress in August, 1955, our greatest ambition was to print next week’s paper, our dream was to have a bank account and our hope—that the 1913 Linotype would last until the business was paid for. Beyond that we may have had the fantastic dream of owning an Edsel.

We reported in our first issue in 1955 that a 5-year-old boy had announced to us the gift of a “Baby” Crockett sweater on his birthday and could we tell he looked a year older? We looked him over and said he certainly did look 5 years old and 4 no more. That boy is now 21 and the changes in him may be no greater than what has happened to Polk and farming.

In 1955 there were three grocery stores, two clothing stores, three cream stations, two implement houses, two taverns, hardware, barber shop, bank, blacksmith, three service stations, gift shop, drug store, elevator, lumberyard, coffeeshop, restaurant, theater, newspaper.

In 1971 there are still three service stations, no implement houses, one tavern, no gift shop, no drug store, one sundries, two elevators, one fertilizer and farm supply business, no lumberyard, bank, no blacksmith, beauty shop (to open), one grocery, no clothing stores, no cream stations, machine shop (to open), two cafés, electrician, veterinarian, hardware, gas company district office, doctor (twice a week), no theater, garage, plumber and well man, newspaper, and we hope we haven’t forgot a business.

The denizens doing business in Polk in 1955 and still at it, have changed. While we have no intention of listing their names and describing the differences 16 years have wrought (some of the facts are edited out under our rule of only printing polite news) we can state their appearance no longer can be categorized as “You don’t look a day older.”

The subscribers have changed. Many have grown hard of hearing. This is due to the increasing decibels of sound to which their ear drums are subjected in this best of all noisy worlds. When we informed those 16-years-younger subscribers the Progress cost $2.50 they immediately dug the billfold out of the overall bib and paid. Now, when they come in and we tell them the price is $4.00, they cup a hand behind an ear and ask, “What did you say? Did you say $2.00?” Finally, they pull the billfold out of the back pocket of their pre-shrunk, perma-press, natural nylon, orlon, rayon, wool-all-gone dress pants and pay up.

The greatest changes have occurred in farming. There are fewer farmers and larger farms. Equipment has gone from two-row to six-row. Rear wheels of tractors went from two to four. Farmers remain two-legged. The average age of farmers has increased and so have their waistlines. This is probably also true of farm wives but due to the Progress polite-news-only policy we refrain from definitely asserting it as a fact.

Chickens have disappeared from farmyards. Milk cows have followed the chickens. Barns are surplus and are needed only as a place for the farmer to go and lick his wounds after an argument with the wife. The building is also used as a shelter for motorcycles, Mustangs (the car, not the horse), the boat, pickup camper, machinery parts. Occasionally the dog or cat wanders in and looks around. Even today’s farm children don’t know where milk comes from.

The most dramatic change in farming since 1955 has been caused by deep well irrigation and commercial fertilizer, particularly anhydrous ammonia. With an available water supply, the only limit to how large a yield is possible is the availability of nutrients in the soil and the space needed between rows for movement of machinery and irrigation water. The average yield of crops has increased enormously in 16 years. The farmer now has the equipment, the know-how and the fertilizer to produce 200 or more bushels to the acre. But at what price?

A comprehensive article in The New Yorker magazine on ecology by Barry Commoner poses a problem more and more farming communities will be facing as they use more fertilizers to increase yields.

First, the law of diminishing returns is at work in the application of fertilizer. For simplicity, not accuracy, the following figures are used, by the Progress, not The New Yorker. If 100 lbs. of fertilizer are applied per acre and the yield increases from 40 to 80 bushels per acre, another 100 lbs. will not increase the field another 40 bushels, but maybe half that. A third 100-lb. application will give a still smaller increase. What happens to the excess nitrogen?

It leaches out of the soil as a nitrate and ends up in the water supply. Particularly the surface water in streams, basins and lakes. Public health authorities have set a limit of 45 parts nitrate per million in water for human consumption.

The New Yorker article states: “Nitrate itself appears to be relatively innocuous in the human body. However, it can be converted to nitrite by the action of certain intestinal bacteria, which are often more active in infants than in adults. And nitrite, a grouping of one nitrogen and two oxygen atoms, is poisonous, for it combines the hemoglobin in the blood, converting it to methemoglobin, and so prevents the transport of oxygen by the blood. An infant thus affected turns blue and is in serious danger of asphyxiation and death… The problem is worldwide: infant methemoglobinemia has been reported in France, Germany, Czechoslovakia, and Israel.”

It was at Decatur, Ill., the problem was pointed up. That city of 100,000 uses a river for its water supply. The supply was discovered to be dangerously near the maximum level of nitrate allowed. This sparked a study of the source of the nitrate, the effect on humans of the nitrate and suggested solutions of the problem. It hasn’t been solved, but the evidence indicates that excessive use of anhydrous ammonia as a fertilizer will eventually result in harm to human life.

In 1955, no one, including this writer, would have thought farming could be harmful to human existence. This is the greatest change we have noted since taking over this newspaper.

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