Regarding Niobrara, Chapter 5

We Americans are obsessed with the version of small town life that we all saw on TV.

Mayberry. Andy, Barney, Aunt Bea, Opie (who names their kid Opie?), Floyd, Gomer, Goober, Otis, etc.

No matter how much evidence there is to the contrary, we all really want to believe in Mayberry.

Niobrara was Eddie's Mayberry. And mine too. We told ourselves that it wasn't like a TV show but somehow that romanticism of the town crept into our brains anyway.

It was full of nice folksy folks and had its share of odd characters. But life is never like TV no matter where you are. And we had to face the fact that Niobrara came with it's share of problems like so many small, rural communities all across the country.

There are only so many jobs in an area like Knox County, NE. There are plenty of farmers and ranchers but they are hard pressed to support their families. There were very few people in Niobrara that had only one job. Most had two and in some cases three or more.

Some had found other ways to make money. And we found out on that first morning that the "Dateline NBC/48 Hours/60 Minutes/Name Your TV News Magazine" stories of the drug trade in small town America had not bypassed Niobrara. In fact it was thriving. And the one law enforcement officer in those parts was fighting a losing battle.

The police officer sitting in The Two Rivers at dawn on that first Saturday morning told a naive, non-drinker who had never used drugs that he had willingly purchased a place where drug dealing was routine. If we hadn't spent quite a lot of our savings on this purchase, it might have even been funny.

Here WAS the funny part - some people in town, including him, actually believed that since Eddie & I were "bikers" that we were somehow involved in the drug trade and had purchased The Two Rivers for that purpose.

I'll give you a moment to recover from LOL....

Yes, that is right. He thought we were drug dealers.

Newsflash to all you non-riders: Long Distance Motorcyclists are crazy but they are not criminals. They are not even "bikers". They are "Motorcyclists". Eddie would cringe every time someone referred to him as a biker. He set me straight during one of our first conversations and I quickly learned the difference. Now I cringe when people ask me if I'm a biker. No. I. Am. Not.

Oh, OK - Eddie really went by the moniker "The Senator" and he nicknamed me "Squirrel" and I had a secret leather jacket that had "Property of The Senator" stitched on the back of it that I wore whenever we rode into a town to terrorize the locals. (We've all seen "The Wild One", right?)

Ok, back to the story:

Eddie's new police friend painted a very bleak picture of the area we were now going to call home. According to him drug trafficking and drug use were epidemic. And he warned Eddie that he should clean up The Two Rivers as quickly as possible and make sure that the residents knew that we weren't about any of that.

Hell, Eddie had already been working on a kids menu!

Our purchase agreement stated that Pat would stay on for 90 days to ensure a smooth transition. It was now obvious that Pat was not coming back and Eddie was on his own. So he needed to look to our staff for any help he needed in learning how to run the business. We had one cook, one full time waitress, a part time bartender and of course Ann, the best bookkeeper in Niobrara.

By the end of the weekend he had to fire one of them. Within a couple of months all but Ann would be gone and we were operating with a whole new staff.

Eddie & I went into public relations mode. In a front page story for the Niobrara Tribune we talked about wanting a family friendly place and were sincere when we said how excited we were to be a part of the community. We cleaned, turned on lights that hadn't been turned on for years, and put up banners proclaiming "Under New Ownership" hoping that anyone who didn't feel comfortable there before might want to come in and see what we were about.

And it seemed to be working. Sort of.

We began to see a shift in our clientele. In the beginning, late nights were pretty solid with the bar lined with regulars who camped out on their stools until closing time. Other than Friday and Saturday nights, the restaurant business wasn't as good as we would like.

Slowly, it got to the point where there would only be one or two regulars sitting at the bar at closing time. But lunch and dinner was really picking up. And people were bringing their children!

Several times I had customers tell me that they hadn't felt comfortable coming in with their families under the previous ownership. But now it was clean and bright and the food was better.

At first we couldn't really figure out where the barfly's had gone. Eddie was disturbed that they didn't want to hang out there anymore. I was less concerned about it. There were other bars in town where they could go. But we were the only steakhouse. And if we could close up a little early because no one was camped out at the bar, I was fine with it.

We assumed the scary stories of drug dealing were behind us and that we could move forward with our plans to create a true destination spot while holding on to the character of The Two Rivers.

But now the other stress points were coming into play - the condo wasn't getting shown. But worse, I got the news that my job was staying in Atlanta. If I wanted to relocate to Nebraska, I would have to find something else to do - either with our company or not. This edict came from the very top. And it was final.

I'd have to update my resume'. I found out fairly quickly that high-level management jobs in Information Security were pretty scarce in those parts.

The Two Rivers was open 7 days a week from 11:30am to 1:00am. Most of the deliveries occurred around 8:00am on weekdays. Eddie was working 7 days a week for 15 to 18 hours a day. He slept in the same building. Some days he never went outside.

I would travel from Atlanta to Niobrara once or twice a month. I can say with all honesty that I have never been as physically exhausted as I was during those trips. I have no idea where Eddie got the strength to cook, clean, wait tables, tend bar, handle all the food orders and deliveries. And now we were well into hunting season, the busiest time of year for our business.

Hunters and fishermen come from all over the country to this part of Nebraska. Duck, pheasant, deer - if you like to hunt, this was the place to be. They spent lots of money - ate lots of prime rib and drank the most expensive alcohol. Every room was booked for weeks out.

We had hired another cook and several waitresses. Our customers were getting very good service and food. Financially, we were thrilled.

But Eddie needed me to be there. He was quickly getting burned out. He started experiencing health issues. Nothing serious but the kind of stuff that happens when your body is telling you to slow down and get some rest. He was losing weight because he didn't have time to eat. I had lost 15 pounds and I was only there twice a month! He was down about 40.

During a visit at the height of hunting season at the end of October we started to question how long we could keep going like this. We decided that I should try to rent the condo so that I could get moved up to Niobrara but Eddie was still adamant that I keep my job. When I told him about the decision that would keep me from transferring he broke down.

Again, I said I should quit and work full time with him. One person couldn't handle it. Not the way we wanted to run it. Again, he refused. So we were stuck.

But we put on a good face to our staff, customers, family and friends. No one but us knew that we were having serious reservations about this venture. Business was great but the stress was taking a toll.

The night before I was to leave to go back to Atlanta, two men came into the bar right at closing time. They were Native Americans from the Santee reservation. Eddie knew one of them because he had thrown him out the week before. He was part of the "trade" and Eddie didn't want him around.

There was something menacing in the way they carried themselves and Eddie instinctively moved to position himself between me and the men.

The one that Eddie knew pointed at us and in a voice that left no doubt that he was serious said, "When you aren't expecting it, we are going to burn this place down with both of you in it." Then they turned, walked out, got in their truck and sped off.