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Show 82 the stage, tapped his toe and fiddled and looked out over the dancers, not once with an expression on his face. I danced waltzes and fox trots, and then whooped it up in a circle dance, and then really whooped it up in a square dance, some of the calls going on sweatily for a half hour. Then soon after midnight the women made gallons of coffee and passed it out with the sandwiches and cake and pie, eat all you want, and then return to dancing. One dollar for a man with or without a girl, music and food included. If things were still going strong at ending time, 2:00 a.m., someone would take up a collection for the musicians and they would play on until the money or the dancers ran out, sometimes till five in the morning. Then the caretaker, up to milk his cows anyhow, would walk over, sweep out the hall, place the chairs in rows, and the place was ready for that morning's church services. It was not all dancing. In the parked cars there was booze and love and more. One night I saw Helmut Schultz holding a man bent back over the fender of a car, beating him. Helmut was a bachelor of nearly thirty who lived with his parents on the farm, the old folks speaking German in the house, Helmut a gentle man liked by all, slow, amiable, with a blond, square, stolid face, not that much different from mine. But that night he was drunk and he held the man over the fender by the front of his shirt and with his other fist beat him, even after the man was unconscious. Something about a woman. It took three men to pull Helmut off before he beat the man to death. Helmut broke two fingers on his right hand; . the man had only a smashed nose, a broken jaw and black eyes which showed for weeks. I was not surprised. A fight like I had had long ago with Rudy Furstenberger was common, adults fought with fists commonly, sometimes with knives, though rarely with guns. One night a man from Old MexicoA«wt°two of his friends to death just across the street from the school and the next day we kids went to see the blood on |