CopyrightWallaceStegner.FirstappearedinhisterrificcollectionWolfWillow (1959).Alphinparagraph2isthemysteriousriverinColeridgesKubla Kahn.

TheTownDump WallaceStegner

ThetowndumpofWhitemud,Saskatchewan,couldonlyhavebeena fewyearsoldwhenIknewit,forthevillagewasbornin1913andIleft therein1919.ButIrememberthedumpbetterthanIremembermostthings inthattown,betterthanIremembermostofthepeople.Ispentmoretime withit,foronething;ithasmorepoetryandexcitementinitthanpeople did. Itlayinthesoutheastcorneroftown,inasectionthatwasalwaysfullof adventureforme.JusttheretheWhitemudRiverleftthehills,bentalittle south,andstarteditslongtraverseacrosstheprairieandinternationalbound arytojointheMilk.ForallIknew,itmighthavebeenonitswaytojoin theAlph:simply,beforemyeyes,itdisappearedintostrangenessand wonder. Also,whereitpassedbelowthedumpground,itranthroughwillowed bottomsthatwereafavoritecampsiteforpassingteamsters,gypsies,some timesIndians.Theverystrawscatteredaroundthosecamps,theashesof thosestrangers'campfires,themanureoftheirteamsandsaddlehorses,were hotwithadventurouspossibilities. Itwasasanextension,alivingsuburb,asitwere,ofthedumpgroundthat wemostvaluedthosecamps.Wescouredthemforartifactsoftheirmigrant tenantsasiftheyhadbeenarchaeologicalsitesfullofthesecretsofancient civilizations.Iremembertotingaroundforweeksthebrokencheekstrapof abridle.Somehoworotheritsbucklelookedasifithadbeenfashionedin afarplace,aplacewheretheywereaccustomedtoflattenthetonguesof bucklesforreasonsthatcouldonlybeexciting,andwheretheymadeahabit ofplatingthemetalwithsomevaluablealloy,probablysilver.Inplaces wherethesilverwaswornawaythebuckleunderneathshonedullyellow: probablygold. Itseemedthatexcitementlikedthatendoftownbetterthanourend. OnceoldMrs.Gustafson,deeplyreligiousandalittleraddledinthehead,went

overtherewithabuckboardfulloftrash,andasshewasdrivinghome alongtherivershelookedandsawaspentcatfish,washedinfromCypress Lakeorsomeotherpartofthewatershed,floatingontheyellowwater.He wastwofeetlong,hiswhiskershungdown,hisfinsandtailwerelimp.He wasakindoffishthatnoonehadseenintheWhitemudinthethreeor fouryearsofthetown'slife,andakindthatnoneofuschildrenhadever seenanywhere.Mrs.Gustafsonhadneverseenonelikehimeither;she perceivedatoncethathewasthedevil,andshewhippeduptheteamand reportedhimatHoffman'selevator. Wecouldhearherscreechingasweleggeditfortherivertoseefor ourselves.Sureenough,therehewas.Helookedverytired,andhemade nogreatefforttogetawayaswepushedoutahalfsunkenrowboatfrom belowtheflume,submergeditunderhim,andbroughthimashore.When hediedthreedayslaterweexperimentallyfedhimtotwohalfwildcats,but theyseemedtosuffernoilleffects. Upstreamfromthedrawthatheldthedump,theirrigationflumecrossed theriver.ItalwaysseemedtomegiddilyhighwhenIhungmychinover itsplankedgeandlookeddown,butitprobablywalkednomorethantwenty feetabovethewateronitsspiderylegs.Ordinarilyinsummeritcarried aboutsixoreightinchesofsmoothwater,andundertheglassyhurryingof thelittleboxedstreamtheplankswerecoatedwithdeepsunwarmedmoss asslickasfrogs'eggs.Aboycouldsitintheflumewiththewaterwalling upagainsthisback,andgrabacrossbraceabovehim,andpull,shooting himselfsledlikeaheaduntilhecouldreachthenextbraceforanotherpull andanotherslide,andsoonacrosstheriverinfourscoots. Aftertenminutesintheflumehewouldcomeoutwearingadozenor morelimberblackleeches,andcouldsitinthegreenshadewheredarning needlesflashedblue,anddragonflieshummedanddartedandstopped,and skatersdimpledslackandeddywiththeirdelicatetransitoryfootprints,and therestretchtheleechesoutonebyonewhiletheirsuckingendsclungand clung,untilatlast,stretchedfarout,theyletgowith"tinywetpukand snappedtogetherlikerubberbands.Thesmelloftheriverandtheflume andtheclaycutbanksandthebarsofthatpartoftheriverwasthesmellof wolfwillow. Butnothinginthatendoftownwasasgoodasthedumpgroundthat scatteredalongalittlerunoffcouleedippingdowntowardtheriverfrom thesouthbench.Throughahistoricalprocessthatwentback,probably,to therootsofcommunitysanitationanddistasteforeyesores,butthatinlaw

datedfromtheUnincorporatedTownsOrdinanceoftheterritorialgovern ment,passedin1888,thedumpwasoneoftheveryfirstcommunityenter prises,almostourtown'sfirstinstitution. Morethanthat,itcontainedrelicsofeveryindividualwhohadeverlived there,andofeveryphaseofthetown'shistory.Thebedspringsonwhichthe town'sfirstchildwasbegottenmightbethere;theskeletonofaboy'spet colt;twoorthreevolumesofShakespeareboughtinhasteanderrorfroma peddler,laterloanedincarelessness,soakedwithwaterandchemicalsinahouse fire,andfinallythrownouttoflaptheirstainedeloquenceinthe prairiewind. Brokendishes,rustytinware,spoonsthathadbeenusedtomixpaint;onceabox ofpercussioncaps,signandsymbolofthecarelessnessthatmost ofthosepeoplefeltaboutallmattersofpersonalorpublicsafety.Weput themontherailroadtracksandwereanonymouslydenouncedintheEn terprise.Therewerealsooldiron,oldbrass,forwhichwehuntedassiduously, bynightconningjunkmen'scatalogues'andthepagesoftheEnterpriseto findhowmuchwartimevaluetheremightbeinthegearedinsidesofclocks orinapoundoftealeadcarefullywrappedinaballwhoseweightaston ishedanddelightedus.Sometimestheunimaginableoutsideworldreached inandlaidafingeronus.Irecallthat,agednomorethanseven,Iwrotea St.Louisjunkhouseaskingiftheypreferredtheirtealeadandtinfoil wrappedinballs,orwhethertheywouldratherhaveitpressedflatinsheets, andIgotbackatypewrittenletterinawindowenvelopeinstructingmethat theywouldbehappytohaveitinanywaythatwasconvenientforme.They addedthattheyvaluedmybusinessandweremineverytruly.Dazed,I carriedthatwindowedgrandeuraroundinmypocketuntilIworeitout, andformonthsIsavedtheletterasasouvenirofthewonderingtimewhen somethingstrangeanddistinguishedhadsingledmeout. Wehuntedoldbottlesinthedump,bottlescakedwithdirtandfilth,half buried,fullofcobwebs,andwewashedthemoutatthehorsetroughbythe elevator,puttinginahandfulofshotalongwiththewatertoknockthedirt loose;andwhenwehadshakenthemuntilourarmsweretired,wehauled themoffinsomebody'scoasterwagonandturnedtheminatBillAnderson's poolhall,wherethesmelloflemonpopwassosweetonthedarkpoolhall airthatIamsometimesawakenedbyitinthenight,evenyet. Smashedwheelsofwagonsandbuggies,tanglesofrustybarbedwire,the collapsedperambulatorthattheFrenchwifeofoneofthetown'sdoctors hadoncepushedproudlyuptheplankedsidewalksandalongtheditchbank

paths.Awelteroffoulsmellingfeathersandcoyotescatteredcarrionwhich wasallthatremainedofsomebody'sdreamofachickenranch.Thechickens hadallgotsomemysteriouspipatthesametime,anddiedasone,andthe dreamlayouttherewiththerestofthetown'shistorytorustletotheempty skyontheborderofthehills. Therewasmeltedglassincuriousforms,andthehalfmeltedofficesafe leftfromtheburningofBillDay'sHotel.Onveryluckydayswemightfind apieceoftheleadcasingthathadenclosedthewiresofthetown'sfirst telephonesystem.Thecasingwasjusttherightsizeforrings,andsosoft thatitcouldbewhittledwithajackknife.Itwasamaterialthatmighthave madeartistsofus.IfwehadbeenIndiansoffiftyyearsbefore,thatbright softmetalwouldhaveenlistedourmaximumpatienceandcraftandcome outasringandmetalandamuletinscribedwiththesymbolsofourobserved world.Perhapsthereweretoomanyreadymadealternativesinthelocal drug,hardware,andgeneralstores;perhapsourfeebleartisticresponsewas ameasureoftheinsufficiencyofthechallengewefelt.InanycaseIdonot rememberthatwedidanymorewiththemetalthantoshapeitintocrude sealringswithourinitialsorpiercedheartscarvedinthem;andthese, thoughtheyservedapurposeinjuvenilecourtship,stoppedsomethingshort ofart. Thedumpheldverylittlewood,forinthatcountryanythingburnable gotburned.Butithadplentyofoldiron,furniture,papers,mattressesthat werethedelightoffieldmice,andjugsanddemijohnsthatweresometimes theirbane,fortheycrawledintothenecksanddrownedintherainwater orredeyethatwasinside. Ifthehistoryofourtownwasnotexactlywritten,itwasatleasthinted, inthedump.IthinkIhadaprettysoundnotionevenateightornineof howsignificantwasthatfirstinstitutionofourformingCanadiancivilization. ForrummagingthroughitsfoulpurlieusIhadseveraltimesbeensurprised andshockedtofindrelicsofmyownlifetossedouttheretorotorblow away. ThevolumesofShakespearebelongedtoasetthatmyfatherhadbought beforeIwasborn.Ithadbeencarriedthroughsuccessivemovesfromtown totownintheDakotas,andfromDakotatoSeattle,andfromSeattleto Bellingham,andBellinghamtoRedmond,andfromRedmondbacktoIowa, andfromtheretoSaskatchewan.Then,stainedinastranger'shousefire, thesevolumeshadsufferedfromahousecleaningimpulseandbeenthrown awayformetostumbleuponinthedump.OneoftheCratchetgirlshad

borrowedthem,ahatchetfaced,thin,eager,transplantedCockneygirlwith afrenzy,almostahysteria,forreading.Andyetsomehow,throughherhands, theycfoundthedump,tobecomeasymbolofhowmuchwaslost,howmuch thrownaside,howmuchcarelesslyorofnecessitygivenup,inthemaking ofanewcountry.WehadsofewbooksthatIwasfamiliarwiththemall, hadhandledthem,lookedattheirpictures,perhapsevenreadthem.They werethelaresandpenates,partoftheskimpyimpedimentaofhousehold godswehadbroughtwithusintoLatiumFinding,thosethreethrownaway wasalittlelikefindingmyownnameonagravestone. Andyetnottheblowthatsomethingelsewas,somethingthatimpressed meevenmorewiththedump'sclosereflection,ofthetown'sintimatelife. Thecoltwhosepickedskeletonlayouttherewasmine.Hehadbeenin curablycrippledwhendogschasedourmare,Daisy,themorningaftershe foaled.Ihadlaboredformonthstomakehimwell;hadfedhimbyhand, curriedhim,exercisedhim,adjustedtheironbracesthatIhadtalkedmy fatherintohavingmade.AndIhadnotknownthathewouldhavetobe destroyed.OneweekendIturnedhimovertotheforemanofoneofthe ranches,presumablysothathecouldbecaredfor.AfewdayslaterIfound hisskinnedbody,withthebracesstillonhiscrippledfrontlegs,lyingon thedump. Noteventhat,Ithink,curedmeofgoingthere,thoughourparentsall forbadeusonpainofcholeraorworsetodoso.Theplacefascinatedus,asit shouldhave.Forthiswasthekitchenmiddenofallthecivilizationwe knew;itgaveusthemosttantalizingglimpsesintoourlivesaswellasinto thoseoftheneighbors.Itgaveusanaestheticdistancefromwhichtoknow ourselves. Thedumpwasourpoetryandourhistory.Wetookithomewithusby thewagonload,bringingbackintotownthethingsthetownhadusedand thrownaway.Somelittlepartofwhatwegathered,mainlybottles,weman agedtobringbacktousefulness,butmostofourgleaningsweleftlying aroundbarnoratticorcellaruntilinsomerenewedfuryofspringcleanup ourfamiliescartedthemofftothedumpagain,toberescuedandbriefly treasuredbysomeotherboywithschemesformakingthemuseful.Occa sionallysomethingwereallyvaluedwithapassionwassnatchedfromusin horrorandreturnedatonce.Thathappenedtothemountedheadofawhite mountaingoat,somebod/strophyfromoldtimesandthefarRockyMoun tains,thatIbroughthomeonedayintransportsofdelight.Mymothertook onelookanddiscoveredthathisbeardwasfullofmoths.

Irememberthatgoat;Iregrethimyet.Poetryisseldomuseful,butalways memorable.IthinkIlearnedmorefromthetowndumpthanIlearnedfrom school:moreaboutpeople,moreabouthowlifeislived,notelsewherebut here,notinothertimesbutnow.IfIwereasociologistanxioustostudyin detailthelifeofanycommunity,Iwouldgoveryearlytoitsrefusepiles. Foracommunitymaybeaswelljudgedbywhatitthrowsawaywhatit hastothrowawayandwhatitchoosestoasbyanyotherevidence.For wholecivilizationswehavesometimesnomoreofthepoetryandlittlemore ofthehistorythanthis.