Tri-State Neighbor: South Dakota Farm Newspaper

As with any Woster reunion, this year at Thunderstik Lodge we managed to cover a host of topics over the course of a couple of days.

Certainly rain and crops and the progress of our kids is always a centerpiece. This year, for reasons I still don't understand, the discussion turned to dentistry and the skills or lack thereof of those with whom we were familiar. A part of those skills most certainly involves the wonderful changes in technology, which allow us to spend time in the chair without a whole lot of discomfort.

There was a time when pain was a part of the process and, in fact, when I came to Sioux Falls in 1962 and was searching for a dentist, the fellow who started Greenlee Packing Company, Orville Greenlee, said that is a fairly simple chore. You always start by making certain that the office of said dentist is not soundproof.

Someday I hope to put into writing the many comments of this World War I veteran, who was about as fine a cattle buyer as I ever had a chance to observe and epitomized the adage regarding a spade is a spade when he spoke. There was never any doubt as to where the “old gent” stood or how he felt. I might add that his son, Delbert, my main boss, a World War II Marine, the recipient of a bunch of medals and also a darn good buyer, was cut from the same cloth. Very simply, my years buying cattle for the Greenlee family were some of the best.

It was another Greenlee buyer, Hollis Williams, who suggested that I pay a visit to a young and climbing dentist in our city by the name Glen Benson. In about 1969, I did just that and he is still the fellow who pulls and fills and crowns and as long as he stays in the buggy, I will sit in his chair.

Dr. Benson loves to golf and the only time I abandon his dentistry ship is when he hollers fore just prior to injecting the novocaine. That is a pretty good sign that his mind is not on his work and when it comes to teeth work, there is always another day.

Dr. Glen is a Korean veteran who was stationed in North Carolina for a spell and like the Woster family, visited the fabled battleship, the USS North Carolina. Much like our visit to the aircraft carrier Midway, located in the harbor at San Diego, it is absolutely a fascinating experience.

As I'm certain most of you know, these ocean-going vessels are little different than a small city, complete with every service you might find in Dell Rapids or Sioux Center and that includes a dentist.

If you really want to understand the trauma one might have found 50 years ago as a person sat in the waiting room while at sea to have a troublesome tooth taken care of, just pay attention to the technology on those particular ships.

It was the task of the “next in line” in the office to sit on a stool next to the dentist chair and apply the power to run the drill.

Much like the pedals on an old Singer sewing machine, the “next in line” would pedal as fast as possible and that effort, through a series of small belts, would generate the power needed to turn the bit or whatever they call that thing the dentist uses to prepare and fill a cavity.

Dr. Glen told me that most of the time it worked about as well as could be expected. That is if the “next in line” didn't tire, the process being conducted didn't take too long or the dentist doing the work had little interest in the suffering of the patient in the chair.

Even if all went as planned, the drills of old were simply not of the quality or speed found in dentistry today. I can only imagine what it must have been like to be the “third in line” for a procedure.

I read once that a person can be philosophical about everything except a toothache and I'm betting that really applied on the Carolina or the Midway, when both were employed, as a sailor was seated in one of the waiting room chairs. Oh, by the way, there was no waiting room other than a couple of chairs a few feet from the work bench. Now that must have been one long wait.

Dentistry has come a million miles over the past 50 years as evidenced by the number of people my age and above, who still have most of their own teeth.

On that topic, when Mother was a resident at an assisted living facility in our city, I often stopped by for a cup of coffee with her and her cronies and only the good Lord had any idea what might come out of her mouth.

One morning at breakfast, a retired farmer, who often grabbed a spot at her table was greeted with, “You know, Cliff, your teeth remind me of the stars.”

“Really,” he replied, “you mean because they are bright and white and sparkling?”

“No,” Mother said, “Because they come out at night.”

As always, I turned a light shade of red, finished my coffee and left. What else was there to do?

On another topic, following my accusatory column about Wendy and Krystil I decided on the morning of my birthday to make amends. I stopped at this city's finest bakery and purchased $67.34 worth of the best pastries in the store with the intention of stopping by the Neighbor and the office of the South Dakota Corn folks. You will not believe what happened when I stopped to fill up with ethanol.

Somebody broke into my car, confiscated the goodies and disappeared before I realized what had happened.

Because I was short of time and cash I had to stop by and tell both offices about the crime.

Earlier in this effort I wrote you won't believe what happened. Neither did they!

Remember those who serve.