It was one of those early mornings for me- 4:00 AM. Sleep eluded me, but it was a quiet time to lift my children and grandchildren before the throne of God in prayer. My prayer, in part, always is that God will live in your hearts and that it will be evident in everything you do. Ephesians 1:17-20

    I began thinking how very different the life and childhood of my grandchildren (and children) is from what I experienced. So I thought I’d share the story of my experiences, indeed different from yours, yet we have the same Heavenly Father to watch over us, guide us, be our constant companion always, as well as our closest friend.

    I was the youngest of nine children, and as I remember, I was doted on by my older sisters, but my mother was always there. My siblings were three sisters and five brothers. We lived on a farm three miles southwest of the small town of Hazen, North Dakota. There were no large towns nearby.

    Our farm was unique in that it sat at the foot of a hillside. To the south of the farm, extending for about two miles, was a valley between some rather tall, sloping hills at the beginning of the valley, at the southernmost part, were “springs,” where water oozed out of the ground. The water ran northward, just slightly downward, creating a brook that ran through our farmyard, heading towards the Knife river about two miles to the north. It rarely made it that far; it would just dissipate in the soil. To have the brook flow practically at our doorstep was an asset in many ways, especially for the chickens and other fowl. The creek also came through a pig fence, and they took great pleasure in wallowing in the mud.

    The cow barn, horse barn, hen house, machine shed, and various other buildings, as well as a “hay fence,” (That was a fenced yard with haystacks in it. We often used the haystacks to slide down on, usually without permission!), were on one side of the brook. On the other side were the house, garages, and a summer kitchen. The summer kitchen was a two-room house used in the summer to cook and serve meals, do canning and laundry to keep the main house cooler. There was also a smokehouse on that side of the brook. We did our butchering, then smoked the hams and sausages in the smokehouse.

    The menfolk placed a culvert in the brook not far from the house and made a road over it to drive across it. They put another culvert near the cow barn, and here the dirt was dammed up, so it held the water back and created a lovely pond. The cattle and horses enjoyed this, especially when it was hot. They would, at times, stand in it to cool off. Ways beyond this were some naturally formed pools with beautiful, clear, cool water and just deep and safe enough to play in.

    The brook could be very dangerous when torrential rains came. They frequently came during “chore time,” when we would be on the barn side. The water would roar through our yard so fast and furious we wouldn’t think of crossing until it subsided. Thunderstorms often came during the early evening with their heavy rains. In the wintertime, the brook could have a life of its own too. The water usually ran under the ice when it first froze; then, at times, it would flood the top of the ice and make it dangerously slick. Not too slick to skate or sled on! We had a well that had continuously running water. The running water was a significant factor in flooding the brook. Furthermore, as the water ran from the tanks at the well, it would build-up, so it made for super sledding. We’d sit on the sled and go for at least a half-block since, at the point, it had built up enough to have a downward slope.

    There was a large fenced yard at the side and back of the house, later on also in the front with lots of yellow tea roses, as I recall. In the side yard were chokecherry and wild plum trees. At first, we used part of this area for a garden. There was a hedge of gooseberry and currant bushes and lots of rhubarb and mint. Closest to the house, we had ornamental trees such as lilacs and honeysuckle. In the back of the house was a root cellar. We stored root vegetables such as carrots, red beets, turnips, parsnips, and potatoes there. They would “keep” longer than in the cellar. The cellar was not large enough to store all of this and canned goods, and early in the fall, we kept the pumpkins, squash, watermelons, and cantaloupes there. Often the menfolk would cut blocks of ice from the frozen knife river, haul it home and pack it in straw and the ice would keep until July. By the time we stored the ice, we had used the vegetables.

    Our house had five rooms: two bedrooms, one for the “boys” and one for the girls. A large kitchen, a large dining room, and a large “front room,” a cellar was beneath the front room, and an outdoor stairwell reached it. Later on, the basement was as big as the three large rooms. We built an indoor stairwell. At that time, We installed a furnace. An outdoor staircase initially reached an unfinished upstairs over the three large rooms. Later on, we put the stairs indoors. We never finished the “upstairs”; we used it for storage. The bedrooms, which initially were used by my mother and father to live in, could not accommodate an upper floor too well. 

    The front room was my mother’s domain. I think she liked houseplants and my father had made a long table which she placed in front of two large south windows. She loaded it with plants, and I remember plants in other rooms perched and hung here and there. There was a lovely table called a “fern table.” It rarely held plants but was always graced with a special lamp with a green shade. It was a kerosene lamp that had a mantle that gave a lot of light. We only used this lamp for company. [Eva’s daughter] became the owner of the fern table. We used our front room for company and overflow sleeping quarters. It had a pump organ, an organ that needed to be pumped with your feet to play it. My oldest brother, Emil, could play it well. He played by ear, which means he heard a melody, then he could play it without music. He could play the harmonica the same way. Pauline later learned to play using musical notes. There was other furniture, but these items I mentioned made the greatest impression on me and the fact that friends enjoyed exchanging “Roots” and “starters” to add to their houseplant collection. We had a most interesting variety at all times.

    Our dining room did justice to its name. A long table stood in front of two north windows, overlooking the trees and bushes. The chairs were a varied sort. The envy of today’s Tea Room decorator! Little do they know how much we longed for a matched set. Until I was five years old, eleven people were at this table for each meal- nine siblings and my mother and father. I don’t remember much about so many at the table. What I do remember is our devotion to God. Every morning after breakfast, my father (later my mother) would read a portion of scripture and explain it, then we’d sing a hymn and pray, always ending with the Lord’s prayer. We always said grace before meals, and we gave thanks after meals. My parents instilled in us that only animals ate without doing this. We had a large heater, a coal heater, placed in the dining room in the winter. It had footrests around the side and back.

Before we went to bed, my mother would read bible stories and teach us to pray as we sat around the stove and kept toasty warm. Then we were taught to kneel at our bedside and pray individually. Another piece of furniture that I recall in the dining room was two china cabinets. ([Eva’s nephew and his wife] have one of these which they refinished, and it is beautiful). Then there was my mother’s sewing machine, a Singer. We had a second sewing machine, which Mother housed in the “boys” bedroom. It may have been a Franklin. They were both operated by a foot pedal. The front room and the “boys” bedroom also sported coal heaters, but much smaller than that in the dining room. 

    The kitchen had a large cook-stove that burned wood and coal. It had four burners, a large oven, two warming ovens, and a reservoir. Warming ovens were attached to the stove, and the reservoir was on the right-hand side of it. As we used the stove, water was kept warm. Everyone used the water for dish-washing and other miscellaneous uses. A large teakettle always sat on a burner with hot water, and it was added to the reservoir water when washing dishes as that needed to be hot. In the front, beside the oven, was a small door that opened up to the ash drawer. Ashes from the wood and coal needed a place to go as they burned. The ashes accumulated and needed a “shaker,” we put inside the door to shake ash off the grate into the ashtray to give air space to help burn more efficiently. A chimney, which was only about two or three feet wide and that deep, was on the reservoir side of the stove. A six-inch stove pipe went into the chimney from the stove. The chimney enclosed under the pipes, and we made the space into a cabinet. The lowest part of the cabinet had a larger area.

We used this space for the “Slop pail,” where we kept scraps of food and used dishwater. We used the slop pail later to feed the pigs. (Ugh! Is this what the prodigal son ate when he ran out of money!) On the left side of the cook-stove, the family kept a large wooden box for wood to burn, and two coal buckets stood nearby as the bucket [Eva’s son and daughter-in-law] have sitting on their hearth. Once a week, the stove burners had to be cleaned with stove black then polished until a white cloth could be wiped over it and stay white. Cleaning the stove often became my job, and hauled out the ashes and hauling in wood, coal, and water. 

    A large table was in the kitchen, but this was used instead of a countertop, not for meals. There were no built-in cabinets, only a sizeable pantry-like cabinet, and a Hoosier cabinet. That cabinet had a small counter which always held an enameled bucket with our drinking water. A sink built into a stand stood nearby. It contained a basin in which we washed hands, and then we poured the water down the drain into a bucket. This bucket needed to be dumped when it was full; otherwise, a floor washing was in order.

    The kitchen and dining floors had to be swept at least once a day, if not after each meal. Every Saturday was a cleaning day. Someone washed the floor in every room, on hands and knees, and everything was dusted. Then there was Spring and Fall house cleaning when we cleaned everything, ceilings, walls, tops of cabinets, and insides of cabinets. Dust was a problem in North Dakota, the soil in this area was sandy, and it was always windy, it seemed. Furthermore, windows and doors were not made as airtight as now.

    The bedrooms did not have built-in closets but had wardrobes to hang clothes. They are popular nowadays to use as gun cabinets and bookcases. There were dresses in every room and miscellaneous end tables. The church was a vital part of our life, both spiritually and socially. If weather or illness did not permit attendance, we had our worship service at home. We would read a sermon from a sermon book and the scripture, and we also would sing and pray. Our church building, a white clapboard building with a tall steeple and bell, was located in Hazen, ND., three miles from our farm. The church is known as Peace Lutheran Church. The bell was rung or “tolled” at the beginning of every Sunday in Lutheran churches. The bell would toll each time a portion of confession was said – the Father, the Son, and Holy Spirit. Many churches now do not have bells. Then it also tolled whenever a person died. It would toll once for each year of that person’s life. The church had pews on either side, and it was customary for women to sit on one side and men on the other. In time the church changed this much to the chagrin of the older folks. I remember sitting on my mother’s lap during services and most likely restless, and my mother would make dolls out of her handkerchief. It always fascinated me how she could do this. I was about four or five years old then. Sunday School was not available until age six at that time.

    In the summertime, we attended Bible School at the Hazen public school. It was four weeks long, all day. We walked to school, three miles both morning and evening. I remember only walking with your Great Uncle Richard [Eva’s brother], but later I was by myself. Along the way were wild rose bushes. They are the “prairie rose,” which is the official ND flower. We would stop and pick the petals and eat them. The older children in Bible School had a lot of memory work which I was good at it and was way ahead of everybody. The pastor eventually told me to go ahead and pick Psalms or hymns I like and memorize them. I could do this because I had three miles to walk and made use of the time. Maybe one memorizes better while walking! All my memory would, our worship services and conversation in our family and with relatives was in German. I spoke the German language before English. I was bilingual by the time I was six years old. I haven’t lost the accent, but my command of the German language is limited, but I could speak it with some brushing up.

Our school was a small building located in the country, central to where eligible families lived. It was one large room with windows along two sides and a blackboard along one wall. In the corner of this room was a furnace to heat the room, and it was the teacher’s responsibility to start the fire in the morning and keep it going. A door led out into an attached shed where we kept wood and coal for the furnace. We often brought potatoes, placed them on a ledge in the stove, and had a delicious lunch. There was an entrance to the schoolhouse where our lunch was kept, usually in various syrup buckets. The entrance was called the cloakroom. The cloakroom is where we kept our cloaks (clothes-coats and snowsuits, etc.). A table held our drinking water. There was a barn in the back of the schoolhouse. It had two rooms.

The menfolk from various families kept hay in one of the rooms for the horse’s feed. The other room was for horse stalls. Often families would come to school on buggies, sleds, or saddle horses. Outhouses stood on either side of the barn, one for girls and one for boys. We played hide and seek or played “Andy – Andy over” around the barn. The object of the game was to throw a ball over the roof of the barn. The players on the other side would try catching the ball; if they did, they would come around the barn. What added to the fun was the anticipation of the possibility of the opponent coming around the barn. We played other games too, but the most popular ones were football and “kitten” ball. I was good at football, and when teams were selected, I was usually one of the first chosen. My mother was flabbergasted when she discovered I did this – girls just didn’t, but I did! She didn’t mind the “kitten” ball – same as baseball, but the ball was bigger and softer. In wintertime, “fox and geese” was very popular, and “tag” was good for any season.

All eight grades would be in one room with only one teacher. Sometimes not all eight grades would be represented, but usually, there were 12-16 students. It was somewhat like a modern-day home-school concept. The older students learned to work independently and often helped younger ones. Discipline was no problem. It was a known fact that rural school students were better educated than those in town schools. I would frequently ride to school on horseback. My mother would often be concerned when the weather was terrible, but I had learned to dress warm and could even pull a scarf over my face, and the horse would find its way home with me. When the weather was nice, I often walked the two and a half miles.

There was no running water in our house until much later; I was in college by that time. Some people had running water, but we could not afford it. We did have delicious, cold water, though. Again, it was a unique set-up. In the hillside, a well was dug, which was about a block from where a “wellhouse.” Pipes were laid deep in the ground to not freeze from the hillside well to the wellhouse. Inside the wellhouse, a tree-foot pipe came straight up from those laid in the ground, and another pipe placed at a degree angle extended from it.

From this, water ran non-stop into two large watering tanks. These tanks were made from huge tractor wheels and set in cement. We situated the tanks, with one lower than the other, so the water could run out and join the brook. The first tank extended partway into the wellhouse protecting the pipes in there and allowing for cans of cream to cool in it and storing root beer. Each tank had a small groove for water to flow out of it. The water in the tanks was drinking water for horses and cattle, and it would stay clean but occasionally still needed scouring. In that case, the pipe was turned away from the tank. We then cleaned them by dipping the water out first, a significant but fantastic job! I must tell you about the delicious homemade root beer. There is none like it. The rootbeer was made from some sugar, yeast, water, and extract, available in the grocery store. The bottles (we could use most any glass bottles) and bottle caps were also available in the grocery store or sears catalog. A bottle capper, a simple gadget, was used. We placed the cap on the bottle by pulling the handle down, forcing the cap on the bottle. It would take a few days for the rootbeer to “ripen.” It was always hard to wait until it was ready; what a treat!

Water for baths, laundry, drinking, and other household uses was hand-carried in buckets into the house; for laundry and baths, we heated water in large boilers, covering two burners on the stove. We took baths in various sized galvanized tubs. I don’t know how we managed to bathe in this fashion, but we did and somehow kept clean. We did laundry on a washboard standing in a tub. The washboard required clothes to be rubbed on it. A wringer was fastened on the side of the tub to wring out the clothes. Then the clothes would be rinsed twice and then hung out to dry or in wintertime in the unfinished upstairs. I did a lot of this type of laundry; it was hard work! Later we advanced to a gas-operated washer. One of my jobs was to carry water. My mother always insisted I use the smaller buckets, but they were still heavy. It was not unusual to have ten or twelve buckets to the house. We washed the dishes in a dishpan, and we used a second dishpan for rinsing, then they were dried with dishtowels made from flour sacks. Embroidery decorated our dishtowels.

    Our outhouse served as the bathroom. At night, and especially in cold weather, we used chamber pots. These were usually an enameled pot like a bucket with a lid on it. In the mornings, it was often my job to dump them and wash them. Homemade soap was made for laundry and other washing.

    At this time, there was no electricity in North Dakota in the area where we lived. That didn’t come until the 1940’s when rural electrification became available. For lighting, we used lamps and lanterns with kerosene. We used the lanterns outdoors because they had a handle to carry them, and they were enclosed for safety. One of my chores was filling lamps and lanterns with kerosene, cleaning the chimney, and trimming the wicks. The lamps had a bowl-like reservoir that held the kerosene. On top of this was a simple mechanism with which the wick could be turned up and down. The mechanism had prongs to hole the lamp chimney. If the wick were too high, the chimney would get smoked. If we trimmed the wick properly, it would produce the best flame. Imagine living with computers, microwaves, television, VCR’s and the myriad other things we can enjoy with electricity.

    Without electricity, wood and coal became necessary for heating, cooking, and all kinds of daily living. We used wood to start the stoves burning and added coal to keep it hot for a longer time. Our wood was readily available since we owned woods along the Knife River. We also had a coal mine. Keeping wood in the wood box and coal in the buckets was one of my chores. Carrying water was a chore that we did morning and evening. Carrying water was challenging since the well-house was a block away from the house, and we lived on the hillside. Heavy rains had washed sand over the entire area between the hillside and the brook. So it was like walking through a large sandbox. It was lovely sand for a beach or sandbox, but it was a pain for us. I don’t remember ever playing much in the sand either. The heavy rains had created big “washouts” near the wellhouse, and we liked to pretend they were our house, and at times we would hide in them. The “washouts” had some neat nooks and crevices, and all one needed was imagination.

    We used flat irons for ironing. These were placed on hot stove burners and heated for use. Wrinkled clothes were not in vogue then! When ironing, we used three or four irons so we could rotate them. They would not stay hot very long then had to be switched, replaced with a hot one. It was customary to sprinkle clothes with water, roll each piece up and put it in a basket, and cover with a blanket or towel until ready to iron. This process made it easier to iron cotton.

    Our small town of Hazen had only one grocery store. It was a “Jack-of-all-trades” in the true sense; it was called Edelstein’s Store. My brothers did some trapping in the wintertime, mostly Jackrabbits, weasels, and an occasional fox or even skunk. They would take these to the barn and skin them, then stretch them on a board suited for that particular animal. After the skins were somewhat dried, my brothers took them to Edelstein’s. The store had a lean-to to handle the furs. The “boys” tried many times to get me involved in skinning animals, but I couldn’t take that.

We purchased very few groceries since we raised and prepared most of what we needed. Mainly our purchases consisted of staples, fruit, sugar, salt, matches, thread, and such. Our family milled flour at the Hazen elevator from the wheat we had grown. We would have perhaps five to ten 100 pound sacks of flour stored in our upstairs. Our family also purchased sugar in 100-pound bags. We used the Sears catalog to procure other necessities such as socks, shoes, and such. My mother always used our two sewing machines to handmake many of our clothes. Singer sewing machines operated with a foot pedal. My sisters did a lot of sewing. Also, I was taught and did some, although my heart was not in it and didn’t do well.

We wasted no fabric scraps. We used the larger pieces to make “crazy quilts.” The scraps were cut into shapes and sewn together. Then the shapes were backed by a used blanket or sheet and another layer of fabric. Then it was placed on a quilt frame and tied with yarn at regular intervals to keep it from bunching up and for appearance. We cut in the smaller scraps about three-inch-long lengths and about one or two inches wide. These were then sewn onto wheat sacks in 4-5 stripes layers, depending on how thick the fabric was at regular intervals. Colorful fabrics made lovely throw rugs. Overall, we used all the scraps. They were not as colorful and usually used in functional areas. We used sturdy wheat sacks to buy wheat or haul wheat or other grain.

We made butter with cream and a butter churn. We put cream in glass or wooden churn with a paddle that had a handle attached to the outside. The wooden churn was turned until the butter separated from the buttermilk. The butter was then removed by hand and washed in cold water. When the water became clear, we added some salt and the butter was ready to eat. My family used the buttermilk for drinking if anyone cared for it, and sometimes my mother made a prune rival soup with the buttermilk. I never like this until I got older, then I got a real liking for it. We did not make it very often.

Eggs were usually plentiful from our flock of hens. In the wintertime, hens did not lay many if any eggs. The hens’ diet changed when they were in the henhouse. We tried various ways to feed them, even bought oyster shells, but to no avail. My mother would wrap the eggs in paper and put them in egg crates while the hens were still laying eggs, and we would store them in the cellar. They would keep for months.

We had our meat also—lots of chicken. In the fall, we would butcher chickens and can them in jars. It was always a pleasure to make quick lunches or dinners using the already prepared meat in the busy season. In a matter of minutes, we could make the best chicken noodle soup. The noodles would be homemade also. Hogs were also butchered, usually in the fall. We made several different kinds of sausages and some hams, which were all smoked in our smokehouse. Then there was beef, some of which was also canned, and at times lamb or mutton.

My mother tried various things in our big must-have garden. Our soil produced the best and sweetest watermelons in the county! Our cousins who lived about 12 miles north of us would come for watermelon feasts. We’d all sit around our big dining room table and eat it from the big, juicy slices right down to the shell. So good!! We canned many, many things – there were various pickles, beans, corn, peas, pumpkin, fruit, berries, etc. We even made a sweet pickled watermelon I really liked.

    We always had hearty meals. The bread was homemade at all times. There was a little bread available to buy. Noodles and other german “pasta” dishes were made, such as dumplings, strudles, and knoephla. The strudles often had a filling of sauerkraut in them and were steamed on top of stew – so good. And then there was fleischkuechle- a meat pie made with ground meat and deep-fried – a real specialty even to this day. The knoephla soup and fleischkuechle are still available in some restaurants in North Dakota. Kuchen or coffee cake, different from today’s coffee cake, was almost a staple. They were made with yeast dough, usually round, and had a fruit filling and had a pudding-like base. Sometimes we used cottage cheese (homemade) instead of fruit or in addition. Sometimes a rivel-like topping was used, also very good. Saturday evenings, our suppers often consisted of kuchen, sausage, and perhaps potatoes with jackets on served with our homemade cottage cheese. Saturdays were always a day to bake bread, Kuchen, and to boil a big pot of “potatoes with jackets on.” These could be used for home fries the following day also. One of our Sunday dinners was fried chicken – browned in a pan and then gravy made from the drippings. The chicken was put in a big roaster in a slow oven and ready when we came home from church. Home Fries and canned vegetables completed the meal. Another dish was chicken pieces put in rice, with water to cover and some onion, salt, pepper, and then baked in the oven. I can still smell the house when we walked in after church! In addition to all the baked goods, we always had various homemade jams and jellies, all made from fruits that grew in the area. The most popular was chokecherry. This berry is native to North Dakota. It has a large pit in it. The berries are usually plentiful, so they are used for juice as well and even wine. One of our favorite snacks was a bowl of thick cream with chokecherry jelly swirled in it and then drinking homemade bread in that.

    When I was six years old, my brothers decided it was time for me to learn to milk a cow. My mother hesitated, she didn’t appear anxious for me to sit next to a huge cow at my age, but my brothers bugged her until she finally relented if I could milk the gentlest cow. Her name was Elsa. I gradually learned to milk more cows. Our family did milking both morning and evening. There were always sweet little kittens and a menagerie of cats in the barn. We had a game we played – squirting milk into their mouths, they got real good at catching the stream of milk. They also always were well fed with fresh milk in their bowls.

    With milking came the chore called “separating” and feeding the calves. There was a machine called a separator. We poured the milk into a tank, which flowed into a cylinder where a handle operated it. This cylinder had 23 discs; when the milk flowed through it, really nice thick cream flowed out of one spout into a bucket, and the milk poured into another bucket. A miraculous invention. This separator! There was always more milk than cream. We had all the cream and milk we could use. My father fed the milk to the calves. The baby calves from the milk cows couldn’t nurse, so they need to be fed by other means. They learned to drink from the bucket readily. We’d put a little milk on our fingers, let them taste it, then plunge our hand in the milk, and they got the message by following the hand.

The washing of the separator and buckets after each use was not my favorite job. We did the washing in the milk shed next to the cow barn or the house during the winter. We kept the cream we did not use in 5, 8, or 10 gallons saved in the cellar. When the cellar was too full, we took the cream to Hazen to sell. First, we sold it to Edelstein’s store but later shipped it via train to Mandan, North Dakota, about 70 miles away. They made cheese, ice cream, and other products. Then they sent us a check. The cream was always a source of income on our farm.

    My sisters and I had to help with fieldwork. The season for each type of work is short, and there was not enough manpower. (Even though I had five brothers, three of them were married when I was old enough to help). We never helped with spring work, but with haying, harvesting, combining in addition to mucking the barns, ugh! I was taller than my next oldest sister, Pauline, so the menfolk picked me more often to help, to my dismay, and I remember constantly grumbling about it. Since I did work outdoors so much, I missed out on a lot of the canning, jelly making, and consequently, I have never done much of this since I left the farm.

    In haying season, we operated mowers and hay rakes which horses pulled. Hay balers were not yet available, so hay was raked onto piles then loaded on hay racks. We hauled it into this hay fence on the farm, or we made haystacks in the hayfield. I often had to work on the haystack, leveling the hay and tamping it down by walking on it while I threw it on the stack from the rack. I made some pretty neat haystacks!

    Before the combine, which cuts the grain and threshes it all in one process, there were headers, binders, and threshing machines—these involved much hard work. I’ll not go into detail since it is hard to picture this unless you have seen these machines. During the threshing process, farmers joined forces, and often we hired men to help. We gave the men a noon meal and an evening meal. I recall preparing meals for as many as twelve men almost single-handedly at times. My sisters and I helped in all phases of harvesting. I think I enjoyed cooking or preparing meals most. Maybe because the menfolk, who would always be very hungry, really appreciated the cook’s efforts and were profusely thankful.

    Once we had a combine, I often operated the tractor, and one of the menfolk (my brother) would “man” the combine. At times I would “man” the combine.

    Contrary to today’s sunbathing mania, in those days, one tried one’s best to keep from getting too much sun on the body or face by wearing hats, long-sleeved shirts and gloves, and overalls – (not jeans).

    When I was 13 years old, my father died. He was only 62 years old. He had been sick for some time and eventually was taken to a hospital and finally died of pneumonia on January 19, 1939. His original problem was said to be ulcers. I knelt at my bedside and pleaded with God to make him well. He didn’t answer my prayers as I wanted, but it didn’t dawn on me to be mad at God or lose faith. Our parents taught us to pray and remember that God always knew best. They also taught us we might not like the answers to our prayers.

    By this time, my two oldest brothers were married for some time. Each had a family of four little ones. My family called me to be the official babysitter for them. They both lived nearby. I got tired of the constant business of babysitting, and one, when the children were in their mother’s care, I walked home and announced, “I was not born to babysit other people’s children.” Saying this did not go over too well with my mother, and I soon returned to the job!

    The year my father died was the year that the Great Depression began. [It was the year the Great Depression ended and World War II began.] People who had investments lost everything, and consequently, it affected the whole economy. Prices on products farmers sold for their income nosedived. We had just lost our father; my mother was trying to hold together the family while holding onto our farm. So she got us together and told us we’d all have to work a little harder to make ends meet. We then scrambled for extra sources of income. We started raising sheep, turkey, geese, ducks and increased the milking business.

    Sheep can be “dumb” at times when they had more than one lamb; they’d die. This was my responsibility for the most part. At first, they’d have to be fed every four hours but later on, just three times a day. Sometimes when they’d be in the pasture, I would call them “shep, shep,” and they’d come running from a long distance. Then they’d be so excited and hungry they kept butting my legs until their turn came for the bottle. When the time came to rotate the sheep from their fenced yard into an open pasture, I became their “shepherd girl.” Bat, our “nice” black dog, always accompanied me and was a great help because the sheep respected him even though he was not a sheepdog.

    The geese and ducks were relatively docile and stayed around the farmyard with the chickens. We used downy feathers from their tummies were used for pillows and such. My mother always did the feather picking; it did not hurt them. We sold some feathers as well. We then butchered some of the ducks, geese, and chickens in the fall. Each Spring, we had little ones hatched, either by setting female ducks and geese or hens (we called clucks as hens with chicks). Turkeys were disgustingly independent. They would wander miles from the yard and hide their nest. When the babies hatch, they wandered the hillside and didn’t know enough to get out of the rain. Baby turkeys cannot tolerate getting wet. We eventually gave up the turkey project.

    We increased our chicken production by buying baby chicks in spring. They were kept warm in chicken houses when they were little and eventually ran around the yard. At night they’d go in the chicken house on their own. At night doors were regularly closed to protect them from wild animals. When they were full-grown, we butchered the roosters, and we kept the hens for laying eggs. In the chicken house along the outside wall, we built rows of openings, and we placed the straw in the spaces to create nests where hens laid their eggs. Someone gathered the eggs at least once a day. The hens like to peck my hands if they still sat on the nest when I collected eggs.

    Eventually, the milking was my job. Not just one cow, but 25-30. We used a gas engine milking machine by this time. I could milk two cows at one time. We had to wash the udders before and after the milking. The cows had to be “stripped.” Which meant I’d sit down and milk them by hand, mainly to make sure she had given all the milk. Sometimes cows became frightened or stubborn and would not let the milker do its job. I still got to play the “milk – stream” game with the kittens. They always looked forward to it. Then we fed the calves and did the wash-up of the separator and buckets. The preliminary job of milking was getting the cows from the pasture, putting them in the barn, and then placing a chain loosely around their neck. We attached the chain to the feeder crib. This way, the cows wouldn’t wander around while being milked. I always rode horseback to get the cows from the pasture. Maggie was such a nice gray horse, so obedient and nice to ride, so this was the most enjoyable part of the day.

    Through this process of accomplishing what mother advised us we needed to do, we learned to save, be cautious with investments or spending money, and never throw anything away that could be useful -” to be thrifty in every way.” To this day, I am accused of being pessimistic, and no doubt this background may have a bearing on it.

    We always had our supply of coal, and during the depression, the menfolk would also sell some, hauling it to town and unloading it into people’s basements and or sheds. This job was tough work, not carried out once it was no longer necessary. Our supply came from a strip mine in a hillside, not visible from the farm, however. The menfolk removed brush and topsoil and clay until they got almost to the coal. I don’t even like to think or talk about the remainder of the process of cleaning the coal so we could dig it up with picks and shovels. I was always scared of helping, but I was needed “manpower.” We used large scrapers; they were like huge shovels with a back and sides around them. The front of the scraper was rather sharp, like blades. Two horses pulled these scrapers, and one man would guide the scraper with handles that extended out in the back. It was my job to drive the horses while walking along beside, towards the front of the scraper. I was afraid I might stumble on the uneven surface we worked on or that the horses might misjudge a direction, and I’d get caught under the blade. I still get “butterflies” when I think of it.

    North Dakota is noted for its beautiful, clear, blue skies and loud crashing thunder, and bright lightning with frequent cyclones and tornadoes. When these storms threatened, we’d all go into the cellar for safety, and my mother would lead in prayer, and sometimes we’d sing hymns.

    I also recall the difficulties with the roads. They were all dirt roads, and when it rained, they turned into mud. Later we put on gravel on the roads, but the gravel would wear off, and dirt holes would remain after some use. It was easy to get stuck in the mud or slip into a ditch even though the roads were paved.

    The Knife River, which ran through part of our farmland, supplied us with all the firewood needed, and many times our pastime on a Sunday afternoon or some rainy day would be to go to the river to fish. The menfolk would fish with a net. The net extended across some areas of the river, and they dragged it from either side. It didn’t take long to have a great catch! Fishing like this later became extinct there. The river often caused severe problems in spring when there was lots of snow, ice chunks backed up the river in spots, and it would flood. At times we had to drive many miles, even on bad roads, to get to town from the east side of town, which was at a higher level. One year, however, floods were terrible, and that area flooded too. I recall three brothers drowning. They went out in a boat to help someone out, and one thing led to another as one after the other drowned; it was so unfortunate. The currents usually get so strong in floods, and it gets extremely dangerous. In more recent years, floods have been almost unheard of. I suppose the Garrison Dam built across the Missouri River held back water going into the Knife River.

In those days of depression, it was relatively common for young people not to go to high school. I did not, but I desired to go to college, so in my early 20’s I wrote the GED test, passed, and went to Wartburg College in Waverly, Iowa, for two years. I earned an associate degree in Education and then worked in Lutheran churches as a “Parish Worker” until I met your dad and or Grandpa Bjarne. He was called “Home” in 1979, but you know him by his photographs and word of mouth. I know he would be very proud and happy with you, your children, and your grandchildren. He would be pleased that you know and love the Lord and make Him the Lord of your life! Ephesians 3:14-20 would be his prayer for you, as well as mine.

God provided us with Grandpa Dick. He always provides for our needs. Ps 145:17-21, Ps 84:11b-12.   

                    Eva M. Neikirk

                    August 2003¹

1. Eva Schwarz Neikirk, Handwritten story to descendants, August 2003. [The original handwritten story is in the possession of Tim Haugen, Gahanna, Ohio. Story used by permission. Eva was living in Gahanna Ohio, when the story was written. She was 77 years old, alert and active.] ↩︎