For many years following World War II, Frannie Weiland ’45 was probably McCook’s most visible citizen, as he worked in downtown McCook. He was a familiar sight as he pulled his little red wagon, filled with window washing equipment, along Norris Avenue.
I doubt that Frannie ever met a stranger. He knew everyone in McCook and spoke cheerily to everyone he met. He took it upon himself to be McCook’s unofficial greeter to out-of-town shoppers and certainly made everyone feel welcome.
Frannie was the older son of Frank and Marian Weiland. Frank was a long time coach and science teacher at McCook High School. He was a tireless worker in various capacities at the school and was very involved in activities in the city and at St. Patrick’s Church.
Frank was always available with sound advice for students who needed to talk. He was respected to the extent that when the new football field and stadium was built in Bolle’s Canyon, it was a near unanimous decision to name the facility “Weiland Field.”
Frannie’s sister, Marian, and his brother, Joe, were leaders in their respective classes. Joe was a fleet wingback on McCook’s Championship 1946 football team. He later joined the Marines and rose rapidly through the ranks, attaining the rank of colonel during the Vietnam war.
Frannie had a nervous disorder, which made it difficult for him to learn in school. Today, with many more programs available to handle special needs, his schooling probably would have been handled differently, but in his day he stayed in school, learning what he could and was a popular member of the high school student body.
When it came time for Frannie to leave school, Mrs. Weiland was in a dilemma. Frank Weiland had passed away and she worried about Frannie’s future.
She wanted him to be self-sufficient, but realized that his choice of jobs was limited. That is when Coach Russ Sauter stepped onto the scene. Russ had been a young coach and teacher when he came into the McCook system, and Frank Weiland had helped him in a multitude of ways, and Russ saw helping Frannie as a way he could partially repay his old mentor.
It was Russ that outfitted Frannie with brush and squeegee, then worked with him until he mastered the art of washing a store’s plate glass windows without leaving the windows streaked. Then he spoke with enough store-owners who agreed to give Frannie the chance to wash their windows so that Frannie was able to establish a customer base. After that, Frannie’s reputation for giving good service at reasonable rates spread by word of mouth, to the extent that Frannie was rarely without work.
When we came to McCook in 1957 to buy the Harvest Bakery, Ben Schuering, the previous owner took me on a little tour of the facility. We came across a window washing brush and squeegee in the basement, and I recalled how I’d washed the windows at the bakery in Plainview.
“Well, you won’t have to worry about washing windows here,” said Ben. “Frannie comes every week, like clockwork, and does a good job”.
I found that all my business neighbors used Frannie as well, as did almost all of the businesses in downtown McCook. But Frannie was available to do other jobs as well. For years he scrubbed the floors at the bakery and I don’t know how many others. He was ever accommodating. He worked after our business hours, at his convenience. He was often still working at the bakery when the bakers arrived at 2 a.m. He had his own bakery key, and enough from other businesses that he clanged when he walked. We never worried that things might be missing. Frannie was as honest as the day is long.
Another of Frannie’s jobs was putting up the flags on the light poles on Norris Avenue for holidays. At those times he unloaded his cleaning supplies from his little red wagon and filled it with flags and ladder, which he used to climb up to the flag brackets.
Frannie loved people and he loved organizations. He was always happy to come to the bakery Christmas party. He brought his mother, later his sister, as his guest.
He was a popular member of the Kiwanis Club. I’m not sure that he got too much out of the programs. He dozed a bit when a speaker was long winded, but he loved the camaraderie and high jinks of Ray Search and the other members and enjoyed working on the various Kiwanis projects. When he retired and moved to North Platte, the Kiwanis Club placed a bench in Norris Park in his honor.
He was a proud member of the Knights of Columbus. One day he invited me up to his house to see his lodge uniform, the plumed hat and cape.
It was beautiful and I admired it, but when he took down his sword, I began to think I’d made a mistake coming. The room was small and when he attempted to take the sword from its scabbard, he couldn’t quite handle it, and I feared for a moment that I might lose my head.
The Chamber of Commerce used to give out their “Smiler Award.” Of course, Frannie was one of the recipients of this award and was honored at the Annual Chamber Banquet. When Frannie’s name was announced, he received a thunderous, standing ovation. He was immensely pleased and couldn’t stop smiling throughout the evening.
Frannie had an unusual method of accounting. One day he approached me and asked me to help him with his deposit. We went to the bank and I found that his deposit box was crammed full with undeposited checks from customers. “Frannie, you can’t do this,” I gasped. “You’ve got several months of uncashed checks here, and you’re going to mess up your customers” books, and besides, you could be getting interest on this money.”
Then he explained. Each time he’d receive a check he put it in his safety deposit box, and at the end of the month his mother would make out the deposit slip and Frannie would take the deposit to the bank. But at that time his mother was ill and his sister, Marian, had not yet taken over that job, so he just let the checks pile up.
But whatever his method of accounting, he managed to save money. He was self-sufficient, and even had money to lend to relatives. His own needs were minimal, and he did not spend money frivolously. He lived at home with his mother. He was clean and dressed quite nattily, choosing to always wear a tie, even with a flannel shirt.
I believe we can all learn from Frannie’s example. For years he pulled his little red wagon filled with his cleaning supplies from his home near Central School, back and forth to work, but as time went on, he got a driver’s license and managed to buy a car for his transportation. At first these were used cars, but later he bought a new car, of which he was extremely proud.
The salesman was shocked when the deal was made and he started to make out the finance papers “That won’t be necessary,” said Frannie. He whipped out his billfold and paid for his car in cash.
Frannie’s friends were pleased for him, when he bought his new car, and as friends are wont to do, expressed their pleasure by kidding Frannie about his new acquisition. Bill Lyons, an attorney and owner of “Clapp’s Store for Women” and “Modern Appliance,” met Frannie on the street at this time. “Wow, Frannie, that’s a great car you’ve got,” said Bill. “I wish I could afford to buy a new car like that.”
Frannie did not hesitate. “Well, Bill, you get yourself a bucket and brush and I think I can line up a few window washing jobs for you. Then you’ll be able to buy yourself a new car too.”
Ed Note: This article was originally published in the McCook Daily Gazette on February 28, 2005 in a column written by Walt Sehnert.? Frannie died earlier this year and we thought that running this column in our newsletter would be a fitting tribute to him.? Anybody who ever met Frannie could never forget him.? He will be missed.