It all started months ago when I saw a dartboard cabinet at my brother-in-law’s home. Excited as all getout, I told him ‘I want one of those—-help me make one!” His father-in-law, a previous shop teacher, was close by, and said, “I’ll make it for you!” That led to much discussion. I really didn’t want it to be just MADE for me, I wanted to be a part of it with my 12 year old son who has a natural desire to make things and figure out how things work. Plans were made, drawings were drawn, materials needed were listed. All we needed was a day to make it happen. Being that it seems the only way I function these days is by doing things at the last minute, I didn’t have the materials ready and couldn’t get the doors we needed, soooo…..it didn’t get done. I think Lee thought we forgot about him. Quite the contary.
Those months passed and here we are in September, 2011, at the end of a short, hot summer, and the dartboard cabinet really wasn’t even on my mind. School and homework had begun, another season of fall sports, and weekends filled with events. September 3 is my Grandma Swerczek’s birthday, 95 this year. WOW. I made it a priority to make it to the celebration in Cedar Rapids, NE, town of barely 400 folks. 
My Dad and his siblings grew up on a farm there and attended a tiny one-room schoolhouse a mile from the farm. To our disbelief, it is still standing, barely, as you can see. I decided I wanted to do some discovering that day. After visiting and celebrating with my Grandma and the Swerczek Family (doesn’t she look young?!) my plan is to head out to the schoolhouse and then to the farm where I have many delightful memories as a little girl running down that long dirt driveway and playing with the chickens. The schoolhouse was thrilling to see even though much of it is rotting away. I could envision all the kids there, running out to the outhouses because there was no indoor plumbing, going up the road to the nearest farmhouse to get the buckets of water for the day, and doing their daily lessons. There is just a little red paint left under the eave the weather hasn’t washed away after all these years.
Next stop, the farm. The windmill is gone, but all the other structures are there. Rumaging through the garage, it was exhilerating to find pieces of history with my aunts and cousins…chicken feeder trays, tiny leather lace-up shoes my Grandmother wore. I bet she felt like a million dollars when she wore those beauties, as beautiful as I bet my aunt felt when she played dress-up in them in her little corner of the dirt-floor garage where she played house.
I couldn’t wait to get the barn. I’ve been wanting to go there for years, not knowing really what I was going to find. The discoveries far exceeded my expectations. I could imagine the extreme hard work that went on in that barn. I’ve heard many stories about milking the cows in particular. It was pleasing to learn there was fun had in that barn, too. My Dad and brothers made a basketball hoop on the second level and played when there wasn’t work to be done, which couldn’t have been too often. The backboard and hoop is still there.
Seeing the sun coming through the rotting wood of the barn gave me chills, good chills. It made for some beautiful photos I will treasure.
The more we rummaged, the more we found. The old barn was protecting an old door and some windows. They were on the side of the barn where the floor was definately not safe. I thought to myself, “I cannot leave without retrieving this stuff! Surely, someone will appreciate it and want something out of here!” With the help of my cousin, we got the door and every last window. I especially wanted that old door. Not sure what I was going to do with it, I thought…people do so many cool things with them. Surely, I could come up with an idea! The questions that followed…why do you want that old door? What are you going to do with those windows? Ohhhh, I’ll think of something! Isn’t it the coolest door?
A week had passed and I could not think of what to do with the door. Do I scrape the paint off? We’ll see. Make a headboard? Don’t need one. Make some kind of shelf? Don’t have a country house. What about in the yard? Don’t have that kind of yard, either. Then…..it came to me…..THE DART BOARD! Of course! And to have my son, a great grandson, assist in making something out of history. What could be more meaningful? A game for family and friends to enjoy made from a piece of history of a very special family. I cannot wait to get started to see how This Old Door is transformed, like history transforms us all.
