The next morning we had breakfast with Grandpa. Just as we were almost finished, I asked him, "So what are the plans for today? I was figuring on working on the two new wagons to get them ready to use for my next rounds of all the nearby towns. Staying in hotels and eating in restaurants is getting too expensive."
Grandpa became grim as he spoke, "I thought I would work with you most of this morning. Then this afternoon I'm going to ride into Hill City for a little talk with Miller -- he'll think twice about renting out our cabins after I'm finished with him. He maybe didn't understand last time, but it will be crystal clear to him after today, that when I say 'no', it means 'HELL, NO!'!"
I had been thinking on my own actions, and reaching into my pocket, I drew out the cash I had collected from Miller. I handed it to a surprised Grandpa.
"Uncle Henry, I want you to give Judge Mitchell this money that I got from Miller. I think it would be best used if it was put into a fund for civic projects. If I kept it I would feel corrupt and there's enough of that going around already. I know Miller deserved what he got, but somehow, knowing the underhanded way he made the money makes me feel just as underhanded taking and keeping it."
Grandpa accepted the money hesitantly and asked, "I suppose we could do that. Are you sure you don't want to keep part of it at least, seeing as it was our cabins he was renting?"
Even just handing the money to Grandpa had made me feel 'cleaner'. I declared, "I'm sure! With the gold we found yesterday, and our normal sources of income, between us we don't need this money. However, I am sure that there are, and will always be, things the town needs extra money for. This can be used to set up a fund to help the people of the town -- like when someone gets hurt or sick and unable to work. These funds could help get them by until they're on their feet again."
Grandpa looked thoughtful, then smiled as he warmed to the idea. His enthusiasm grew as he expanded on the idea. It was always a treat to see Grandpa do that -- I, or someone else, would start with an idea or notion, then Grandpa would flesh it out into something even bigger and more worthwhile.
He did it with my original idea to change this timeline. He did it with my idea on how the Sioux could capitalize on being landlords. He did it with my idea of the gold, and now he was doing it with my idea of a -- for lack of a better term -- 'Community Chest'.
"I think you're right. I may just add a little of my own to go with it, and I'm sure once word gets around, everyone else will, too."
Grandpa actually rubbed his hands together in glee as he contemplated being able to help his fellow citizens. "The more I think about it, Clay, the better I like your idea! We've always helped our neighbors in time of trouble, but this lets the whole community get involved, and will keep us prepared to deal with people's emergencies without the delay of waiting while we pass the hat. We can help our friends without straining anyone's pocket, especially if it's at a time when the whole community is stressed. We'll be able help more than one family or person at a time, too! People can and will still help the old way, like they always have, but this will give us a head start."
Like I said, give Grandpa an idea or an outline, and he'd run with it. He'd give it form and substance as he made it bigger, better, smoother. Then he'd turn to the person with the original vague notion, and give them all the credit for a complete concept that he did all the actual brain and often the leg work for! I might have brought my 21st Century idealism and my romantic notions of what I'd like to see here in the 19th Century back with me, but he -- Great Grandpa Henry Thomas -- he made them real and, more importantly, workable!
Grandpa and I talked a bit more about what we would be doing that day. The conversation gradually wound down into plain ol' small talk as we finished our breakfast and morning coffees. When we were done, we headed out to the new wagons with my notes and sketches from the other day to decide what part of the job to get started on first.
All the boys were already outside waiting for us. They wanted to help. We didn't want to hurt their feelings or wreck their genuine enthusiasm to help, but at this point, we didn't need four rambunctious youngsters under foot, either. We solved that dilemma temporarily by telling them that the best way for them to help right now was for them to do their chores. We would work out more for them to do when they were done that.
They were a little disappointed at first, but with the assurance that we would have lots for them to do later, they ran off to get started on their regular morning chores. As the boys ran off to do our bidding, Grandpa and I entered the shed where we had hidden my truck. It was time to decide which parts we could use to make the new wagons better.
I told Grandpa about my ideas of possibly using the windows and skylights, tarred around the edges to seal them. Then I showed him some of the other features, in particular the electric lights. I told him I would like to be able to use them in the vans, especially the medical one because of the better quality light. He grasped that concept immediately, and was especially impressed with the brightness of the headlights. Grandpa instinctively understood the importance of good lighting and visibility for a doctor, especially when treating injuries.
When he asked how they worked, I explained how they ran off the two batteries. However, I also explained there was a major problem in that the batteries would eventually go dead because we had no way to recharge them.
"How do you charge them now?" Grandpa enquired.
I raised the hood of the truck and showed him the alternator. Then I explained how it worked with show-and-tell.
"When the engine's running, it spins the alternator -- this machine right here -- through these belts. They connect this pulley here on the alternator to the big one down there on the crankshaft. Turning that alternator produces the electricity that charges the batteries."
Grandpa seemed to think for a minute then he did it again -- took my half-baked idea and turned it into something real. "Why can't we use the windmill crank to turn a large pulley wheel to spin that alternator to recharge the batteries? That wouldn't be too hard, I don't think. These batteries need to charge all the time or just when they're getting low?"
I was beginning to wonder what was wrong with me -- I was a fair hand as a jackleg mechanic, but it seemed I couldn't quite think out of the box like Grandpa. Hell, I'd always done my own vehicle repairs, and could rewire a vehicle quite handily, but for some reason, I hadn't made the intuitive leap he just did to utilize the alternator any other way than where it sat. Now, with his latest stunner still rattling around in my head I remembered all the home-grown wind generators I had read about that did just exactly what he was describing.
Why couldn't I think of it? After all, I thought of electric lights using the batteries -- why then couldn't I follow the next logical step to power the alternator using sources of mechanical energy available to me now? I gave myself a mental kick and decided that with everything else going on, I probably just had too much on my mind to think of everything. Glad that at least someone had made the connection, I replied to Grandpa's query enthusiastically.