The Old Oaken Bucket Comes Home

"How dear to this heart are the scenes of my childhood,
When fond recollection presents them to view!
The orchard, the meadow, the deep-tangled wild-wood,
And every loved spot which my infancy knew!
The wide-spreading pond, and the mill that stood by it,
The bridge, and the rock where the cataract fell,
The cot of my father, the dairy-house nigh it,
And e'en the rude bucket that hung in the well-
The old oaken bucket, the iron-bound bucket,
The moss-covered bucket which hung in the well."

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By: Tori Ziege | Twitter
IUHoosiers.com

MADISON, Ind. – Twelve miles east of Interstate 65, between green pastures filled with grazing cows and fields of corn swaying in the summer breeze, a red car pulls onto a dirt road and parks in front of a rundown farmhouse.

IU assistant athletic director Mark Deal steps out of the car and opens the trunk. Inside is a worn leather case, weighing about eight pounds, with a block letter "I" insignia on the front. Inside that is a 12-inch bucket containing 91 chain-linked blocks in the shape of either a "P" or an "I".

The Old Oaken Bucket has returned home.

And some long lost relatives are there to welcome it.

"You see those football players throwing it around like it's a feather," says Bill Bruner, cradling the Bucket in his arms. "I didn't expect it to be so heavy."

Bill is the great-grandchild of William and Cora Bruner, who lived in the farmhouse long before the Old Oaken Bucket became the emblem of the IU-Purdue football rivalry and before the well out front was covered with a block of steel, back when the Bucket still rested inside.

The year was 1925 when William and Cora donated the Bucket to the University, but memories of the Old Oaken Bucket's birthplace are much more recent than that.
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It was Bill's Aunt Bonnie who eventually tracked down the location of the farmhouse, not by using a GPS to map out the address (it doesn't have one), but by helping Bill and Lisa to retrace the route from memory.

But they never would have gone looking in the first place if it wasn't for a letter.

The letter in question is penned by Bill's father Clayton Bruner, expressing his desire to be reunited his family's heirloom.

"I'm Clayton Bruner, 64 years old, and a grandson of the late William and Cora Bruner," he writes. "My grandparents were the Bruners living near Kent, Indiana, where the 'Old Oaken Bucket' was given to Mr. Fritz of Purdue and Mr. Wiey J Huddle from Indiana University. I would like very much to correspond with the university about the prized trophie [sic]. I would very much like to attend a game between the two rivals and present the 'Old Oaken Bucket' to the game winner."

That was in 2003. Clayton never mailed it.

Twelve years later, Bill's mother discovers the letter while going through Clayton's old things. He's 77, living in a nursing home in Cincinnati, and Bill's wife, Lisa, decides to go digging for more information in hopes of honoring her father-in-law's wishes.

Lisa follows the Bruner family tree all the way back to William and Cora and learns of their farmhouse, but she can't pinpoint its exact location. Eventually, she is put in contact with Deal, who arranges to have the Bucket brought to the Louisville hospital, where Clayton now resides.

But the Bucket doesn't make it there in time. Clayton dies in February, and the search for the birthplace of the Old Oaken Bucket is put on hold as the family grieves.

Then, at the beginning of July, Deal receives an unexpected call.

It's from Lisa.

"We found it," she says, "Bruner Farm."
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Thanks to Lisa's efforts, Bill now stands on top of the well where his great grandparents once fetched their drinking water, in front of the farmhouse on the hill where his father went sledding as a young boy, clutching the trophy that — up until this day — he had only ever seen on TV.

"I never imagined I'd be holding it," he says.

It is the first and likely the last time that Bill and the Bucket will return to this spot. Bruner Farm recently became the property of the county, and will be used by the fire department for training exercises.

In a matter of weeks, the farmhouse will be burnt to the ground.

As much as the reunion means to the Bruners, it means the same amount (if not more) to Deal, who has become the self-appointed "keeper" of the Bucket whenever it is in Indiana's possession.

No family from Indiana has won more Old Oaken Bucket games than the Deals, who have accounted for 13 "I"s on the 91-block chain. Mark himself is one of only seven men from Indiana to win a Bucket game as both a player and coach. He treats the trophy with the same reverence as one would treat the Stanley Cup — and that's no hyperbole.

When he thinks no one is looking, Deal sneaks over to the farmhouse, removes a small piece of dry wood from the crumbling frame and carries it back to the car. He doesn't want the Bruners to know just how far his adulation for the Bucket extends.

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But from his smile, it's obvious.

"I don't blame you Mark," Lisa shouts, spotting him with the dry wood out of the corner of her eye. "I'm thinking of taking an even bigger piece myself."

Standing on the well, Deal presents the trophy to the Bruners in an official ceremony, reciting the lines of the Samuel Woodworth poem "The Old Oaken Bucket" which inspired the trophy's inception.

How dear to this heart are the scenes of my childhood,
When fond recollection presents them to view!
The orchard, the meadow, the deep-tangled wild-wood,
And every loved spot which my infancy knew!
The wide-spreading pond, and the mill that stood by it,
The bridge, and the rock where the cataract fell,
The cot of my father, the dairy-house nigh it,
And e'en the rude bucket that hung in the well-
The old oaken bucket, the iron-bound bucket,
The moss-covered bucket which hung in the well.
"I feel like I'm on hallowed ground," he says.

After the ceremony, Lisa and Bill take pictures of and with the Bucket. Deal recounts the story of the very first Bucket game, which ended in a 0-0 tie, hence the "IP" that adorns the handle, representing both schools. Together, they discuss the 2016 season, and the Bruners' plans to attend the Old Oaken Bucket Game in November.

It will be their first.

Above the farmhouse, the clouds are dark, but they've been held off by the summer sun, shining bright and hot on the Bucket as it finally makes its way back inside the case, back inside the trunk of the car, back out the dirt driveway and back toward Bloomington.

"Clayton is smiling down on this day," Lisa says.

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