My grandma Julie had a similar arrangement at her 1890s house in 
Verdigre, Nebraska. The root cellar was dug into the ground under the 
side porch, one wall of it was exposed to the outdoors due to a slope in 
the grade. This wall was covered with sloping sheetmetal, covered with 
old berlap sacks, over which continuously dribbled water. The water 
supply was a barrel on the porch above kept full with gutters/downspout 
from the roof further up.

The cellar was forbidden territory, but we would sneak in there to 
escape the scorching summer heat. Almost as cold as Grammy's locker down 
at the creamery. There was one tiny window and after a while our eyes 
got used to the dark. Then we could see and feel our way around to find 
the forty gallon krout crock. Lifing the wooden board on top, hep, don't 
let the round stone roll off, reaching in to grab a long stringy handful 
of ice-cold kraut, almost so cold you couldn't hold it for long, it 
didn't last long anyway--that was the best cold kruchy kraut treat on a 
hot afternoon, so long as we got outta there before we were discovered. 
(I don't want to get into what happened the time we got caught.)


John
by hammer and hand great works do stand
by pen and thought best words are wrought


John Leeke,
Historic HomeWorks
26 Higgins St.
Portland, ME  04103
207 773-2306
[log in to unmask]
www.HistoricHomeWorks.com

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