The Room Under the Floor

An old timer was talking to me recently. We were discussing the first refrigerator his family ever bought in the 1930s.

It reminded me of an evening at the Cooper Creek Cabin about five decades ago. Thinking about that sentence, I suppose that old timer could probably say he was talking to an old timer, too.

Back to the story … my brother, sisters and I were reading Richie Rich, Dick Tracy and Archie's comic books or similar when I noticed something odd on the old wood-planked floor. It was a tiny, finger-sized hole.

Always curious, I stuck my finger through the hole. Why the heck not, right? It's what boys do.

I wedged it in a bit past my knuckle until it felt stuck. Before completely freaking out I realized that this part of the floor was loose.

I pulled up a large board and saw a ladder going down into a dark dirt room.

"Mom & Dad ... There's a room under the cabin!" “Mom & Dad … There’s a room under the cabin!”

I had to say it twice because to them it was my usual overactive imagination.

They soon looked over at me and realized that it appeared as if I had just torn the floor apart. That got their attention. They came over and confirmed that I had, indeed, found a trap door to a hidden room.

Dad lit up a kerosene lantern and lowered it into the hole. Then he climbed down the half dozen weary ladder steps and disappeared for a few moments. His muffled voice disparaged thick cob webs and dust along the way.

Soon, we saw his hands pop up from the hole in the floor. Antique glass jars and bottles with unknown contents started appearing above ground.

It turns out, this was an under-ground cache that was used to store food. Always cool and dark, it was a perfect place for pioneers to refrigerate their supplies throughout the seasons.

We didn't open the jars or sample the aged food (no expiration dates were included.) But sometimes curiosity pays off.