Ainsworth: Nowhere They'd Rather BeThe Sandhills town of Ainsworth makes the most of being "The Middle of Nowhere." Story by David L. Bristow |
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Twenty-five years ago, professional
bowler Walter Ray Williams was doing a TV interview when the reporter asked
where he was going next. He said he was pitching horseshoes in the World Horseshoe
Tournament, which that year was being held in the town of Ainsworth.
“Where is Ainsworth?”
the reporter asked.
“The middle of nowhere,”
Williams replied.
Ouch. Your town finally gets mentioned
on national TV, and the one thing viewers take away from it is Ainsworth
= Middle of Nowhere.
It’s enough to make you hope
that no one watches TV bowling anyway.
But that’s not how Ainsworth
reacted. Over the years, the phrase has become a slogan. There’s the Middle
of Nowhere Carnival Days in July, Middle of Nowhere T-shirts and memorabilia.
The phrase even appears on the town’s logo, along with “Country
Music Capital of Nebraska.”
It takes self-confidence to proclaim
yourself the very thing that half the country is accused of and loudly denies.
With 1,730 residents, this Sandhills town is 45 miles from Valentine and 65
from O’Neill, the nearest larger towns. Beyond that, North Platte, Kearney,
Grand Island and Norfolk are each about 150 miles away.
In Ainsworth, people believe that
being far from city lights and city crowds can be a good thing. Think the “Nowhere”
slogan is funny? They do, too, but don’t miss the point: They’re
bragging.
During a recent visit, our first stop was Ainsworth Flower & Gifts, which
doubles as a coffee shop. There we met several longtime local residents; the
conversation soon drifted to Ainsworth’s past.
The town began in 1883 when the Fremont,
Elkhorn and Missouri Valley Railroad reached the area, and is named in honor
of railroad construction engineer James Ainsworth. It is one of many Nebraska
towns named for railmen.
In the early years, the area boomed
as settlers poured into this semi-arid region, drawn by free land and the belief
that “rain follows the plow,” as the saying went. But during the
drought-stricken 1890s, “they found that dirt follows the wind,”
said local historian Dick Albrecht.
Like so much of rural Nebraska, Ainsworth
isn’t far removed from its pioneer roots. Ve Dawson, for example, was
born in a sod house and remembers how her aunt “spent half her day”
eavesdropping on the party line telephone. Dawson’s parents ran a place
called Dimp’s Café (“Dimp,” for dimples, was her mother’s
nickname). There, hamburgers were a dime, coffee a nickel. Dimp’s sandcherry
pie – with hand-picked wild sandcherries – is remembered fondly
by older residents to this day.
Dawson married a man who served at
the local Army Air Base during World War II. His engineering career took the
couple to residences around the United States and overseas before they returned
to Ainsworth 12 years ago. Today Dawson lives in a century-old house that her
grandfather built.
What’s special about Ainsworth?
“The people,” she said without hesitation. “You have all kinds
of people here – and if you have a problem they’re right there for
you.” She teared up as she spoke; she said she was remembering when her
neighbors were there for her in a time of need.
For most of the people around the
table, the World War II-era Ainsworth Army Air Base was the biggest thing to
happen to the town in living memory. As the U.S. entered the war following the
attack on Pearl Harbor, military planners felt it was best to locate training
facilities as far inland as possible. Air bases were built where there was cheap,
level, thinly-populated ground; it was no accident that a dozen Army Airfields
existed in Nebraska during the war.
During the rush to build Ainsworth’s
field in 1942, the need for labor was so intense that the high school let out
for two weeks so local boys could help.
“That was one of my big disappointments,”
said former mayor Sid Salzman. “I was real small for that age and I got
turned down because I wasn’t big enough.” He had to endure the thought
of his classmates “making that big money,” 40 cents an hour.
While others around the table spoke
of the excitement of those days – the soldiers, the crowded streets and
housing shortage, the busy dance halls and touring big bands, plentiful jobs
with good pay (most welcome after the Depression years) – Salzman said
the base was a mixed blessing for local boys, who “were not very attractive
compared to the soldier boys. They had a lot more charisma!”
And in truth, airmen had good reason
for a little swagger. Before they were anywhere near enemy fire, they faced
mortal danger in the skies over Nebraska. Bomber crews and fighter pilots were
trained as quickly as possible, and the combination of high-powered aircraft
and youthful inexperience sometimes proved deadly. In 1944, two fighter planes
from the base collided in the air over nearby Wood Lake. Both pilots were killed.
It was one of 59 fatal military air crashes in Nebraska during the war.
By war’s end, the bombers and
fighter planes had gone overseas and the base was declared surplus. Today, Ainsworth
Regional Airport has surprisingly long runways for a town of its size (business
jets can land there). Though improved over the years, the runways are remnants
of the frenzy of war in 1942.