Cranberry Red: A Novel

61. Cranberry One-Fifty

269 Ben worked furiously the final days before the Cranberry One-Fifty celebration in August. He expected Dr. Phillips would remind him of his “excessive public service work,” and tell him it was cutting into his billable hours. But he didn’t care. He expected any day to receive his pink slip, a notice that his services were no longer needed, but he surmised that Osborne University wouldn’t fire him just ahead of the big celebration; they didn’t want to face the negative publicity. Ben assumed there might be some if he was let go after only one year on the job. The celebration opened on Friday evening, with a banquet recognizing the centennial cranberry growers in central Wisconsin. Following the banquet , the community was invited to see the much-anticipated performance of the Cranberry One-Fifty pageant, a locally produced historical play. The planning committee identified twenty centennial growers and invited them and their families to a catered meal set up in the Willow River High School gym. The committee set up long tables of eight on the gym floor, with red and white table coverings. High school students decked out in black slacks and skirts and white shirts and blouses served the food catered by the Lone Pine restaurant. Platters of roast beef, baked chicken, green beans and corn, and of course bowls of cranberry sauce appeared on the tables, soon to be followed by large slabs of cranberry pie, all served by smiling young people. The Willow River High School band, under the direction of Ms. Lois Walters, was in position on the gym floor in front of the stage that had Cranberry One-Fifty 61 been brought in for the celebration. The band played background music as people filed into the big room and found places at a table. Ames County businesses plus other area businesses sponsored the event, which included awarding handsome plaques to each centennial family. Shotgun Slogum served as master of ceremonies. His family had been one of the very first to grow cranberries in the area, and likely the first to develop a bog on the Tamarack River. Ben hardly recognized Shotgun when he was dressed up. His beard was nicely trimmed and he wore a navy blue sport coat with pressed tan pants, not the faded flannel shirt and blue jeans Ben was accustomed to seeing. “Welcome to this special Cranberry One-Fifty celebration banquet,” Shotgun began. “I want to first introduce our Cranberry Queen and her court. Here is Debra Backus from Link Lake, our Cranberry Queen.” Debra, resplendent in a red gown with a yellow rose corsage, stood up and waved from the stage while the crowd clapped loudly. “And her court, Laura Dalenski from Waupaca and Carol Cunningham from Willow River. Would you both stand?” Laura wore a lime green gown and Carol’s was a light blue. They also had yellow rose corsages. Both stood and smiled while the crowd clapped. “As a special treat, I’ve asked Queen Debra to read her poem. Each queen candidate wrote a poem, which was a part of the selection process.” Once more Debra Backus stood and walked to the microphone. She looked out over the crowd and began reading in a strong, clear voice. Cranberry Moon On a quiet night in October When the moon hangs low in the sky I take my love to the country To the cranberry marshes To the marshes that stretch out before us As far as we can see in the moonlight. She read the entire poem, made a little bow, and returned to her seat to polite applause. Ben overheard someone at his table say to his wife, “That’s not poetry. It doesn’t rhyme. If it doesn’t rhyme, it ain’t a poem.” 270 Cranberry One-Fifty 271 Cranberry One-Fifty “Shh,” his wife admonished. Next Shotgun introduced Lars Olson and then Ben Wesley, who recounted memories of working as county agricultural agents with the cranberry growers over the years. In between the more formal parts of the program, Shotgun told stories and shared one-liners. “Did you hear the story about the fellow who was caught in a snowstorm on his way to Wisconsin Rapids a few years ago?” Shotgun began as a few chuckles could be heard from the back of the room. “Well, his car slid into the ditch and he...