Lined up near the cemetery were the big rigs of the paving company. Following the military salute by a particularly large number of uniformed men from local veterans posts, taps was played and the trucks blasted their horns in final tribute to the boss.
           Hundreds of friends, family and business associates came to pay their respects, March 23, to the man who was a legend in his own time—dead at age 73. The stories were re-told, and many brought smiles even at this sad occasion.
          Who can forget the time Junie Manatt, the concrete and paving magnate, showed up at the gates of the What Cheer Fair many years ago. He was driving a huge expensive auto, but didn’t have a dime in his pocket for admission. With considerable reluctance, gate-keeper Bill Dennis let him in anyhow.
          Fifty years ago, when Junie and his brothers had a one-truck business, word spread that Junie had gone into debt to buy a bigger dump truck with an extra axle. The banker from a neighboring town wagged his head with disapproval and said, “Junie’s really gone and done it this time!”
          Having called on Junie and his brothers for 40 years, I remember that I never once left their office (first it was in a small feed and tractor store) without chuckling and generally feeling good about Brooklyn in particular and business in general. It didn’t matter whether I made a sale or not, and I usually did.
          Junie’s whimsical sense of humor is the foundation of many of the “Junie” stories—most of them true. I remember when we were determined to celebrate the 100th birthday of the Linotype machine. Seems no one else cared, and the only party for the printing machine was in our office. The whole world was invited, and some dignitaries showed up. Don Adams of the Sigourney paper was there. Vice President George Bush didn’t make it, but sent a lame excuse (everybody knows a vice president doesn’t have a real job, and nothing else more important to attend to).
          But Junie Manatt was there with a 400-pound cake from Manatt’s Inc.—made of concrete. Junie also brought a bouquet of flowers - dandelions. (The occasion was also HIS birthday.)
          Junie’s sense of humor is displayed here and there at the company headquarters in Brooklyn. Behind the office is an oil derrick, pumping up and down. Iowa’s only oil well? There’s no oil there, but it looks good anyhow.
         The photo of Junie in bib overalls leaning on his Rolls-Royce auto brings a lot of chuckles. (He really did enjoy working on the farm.) And who can forget that photo of Junie with fancy car, selling citrus fruit in Florida to make enough gas money to get home to Iowa?
         Days before Junie died, approval came from Manatts for an outrageous advertisement in the 2000 Keokuk County Fair book. It shows Junie with a flying pig.
        “If I had my life to live over, I’d forget about the concrete, road paving, harness racing—and concentrate on the fine art of training flying pigs.”
        Junie’s sharp business skills made possible the legendary generosity of his company and his own purse. There’s hardly a good cause in Brooklyn and neighboring communities that didn’t get help and often leadership from Junie Manatt.
       About the time Junie and brother Merlin shifted Manatt’s management to a younger generation, Junie began writing “Junie’s Jabbers” for the “Manatt’s Mirror”, Company paper. These memories are delicious, and would make a good book. A book about this one-of-a-kind Iowan would be a real “hoot”.