Sunday, June 5, 2016

I like card making and scrapbooking.  I have more wood stamps then I know what to do with.  I have several duplicates.  My last craze is to buy die cuts that match all the stamps I collect.  Of course Sissix is my favorite to used all those dies.

www.scrapbook.com

Wednesday, September 17, 2014

More New Stuff Coming


Now that school is finished. I should be able to post some new things to my blog about all things historical and genealogical.  I just accepted a commission on the Advisory Commission of Historic Places for the City of Cottage Grove.  I am amazed how much history there is in this small suburb, but there have been people living in this area for centuries.

Stay tuned . . .

If you want to learn more about Cottage Grove Minnesota, check out their website www.cottage-grove.org.

Friday, February 3, 2012

Book Review: What Nurses Know . . . Chronic Fatigue Syndrome

by Lorraine Steefel,

There is a glossary in the back, so checkout that out if some of the acronyms aren't working for you.

This book is from a layman's perspective.  Lorraine is a nurse, but more importantly she is the mother of a daughter who suffers from Chronic Fatigue Syndrome.
After reading the first few chapters I was discouraged that there wasn't much information for an individual suffering from the problem, and how individually we can support ourselves.  Chapter nine addresses advocacy.  It gives some insight in approaching others about your own problems.  It also talks about advocacy in school.  If you have a child with any kind of issue that affects there learning you should know about the IDEA, and IEP's.  Most educators won't tell you about them, because it costs them money. 

I'm looking forward to reading more books from this line "What Nurse Know . . . "


Melinda Miller

Sunday, January 8, 2012

Reduce, Reuse, Recycle via www.castleink.com

T-shirt Yarn!
First off reduce has been pretty easy to do for the last several months since I lost my job.  My husband is still working, but we certainly have to consider every purchase we make.  I'm a crafty person so I find the reuse and recycle part just part of my nature.  Packing lunches for my husband has changed.  It used to be a lot of disposable plastic bags but after considering the environment I've switched to using re-useable containers.  My favorite part of recycling has been repurposing clothes.  I turn t-shirts into t-shirt yarn, and make book bags, rugs, and stuff from it.  I save old jeans too, they work good as patches for jeans we are still wearing.

We live in a community that recycles as well.  We have one spot recycling where any recyclable material can be put in a bin, and the garbage service sorts it out at their facility.

I’m an historic preservation student at Savannah College of Art & Design, so I’m learning a lot about sustainability of historical buildings.  That would be the ultimate in reduce, reuse, recycle.

Thursday, October 20, 2011

United We Stand

I introduced William Drechsler in my previous post.  I recorded his existence in the database at Washington County Historical Society.  I discovered more information about Bill in a longer obituary that came in the following edition of the Stillwater Gazette.  I discovered he was married, raised two sons and a daughter.  He and his family resided on the other side of the ferry in Houlton, WI.  Apparently, his wife was from that side of the river, and everyone knows "If momma ain't happy, ain't nobody happy"  I assume things weren't much different then.

The intriguing item in the second entry was a list of organizations he was a part of.  Knights of Pythias, Modern Woodmen were a couple of them listed.  Other obituaries in the Gazette listed additional organizations Independent Order of Foresters, Catholic Order of Foresters, Knights of the Templar, Masonic Temple, G.A.R, Loyal Legion. 

Secret Societies has been a topic of discussion that has achieved popularity due to books by Dan Brown such as the Davinci Code, and others.  The History, and Discovery Chanel have shown documentaries on the topic.  I wondered.  How secret of a society can it be when they publish the information in the newspaper?

Of course, the real mystery in these secret societies is what happens behind closed doors. 

I have no limit of stories from family and friends that talk about societies that someone they knew was a part of.  For instance, my father mentioned once to me that his grandfather JJ was a part of the Masons.  He was a member of this organization in a rather small rural town, Britton SD.  JJ was a member of the Lutheran church nearby his farm as well.  The preacher of the Lutheran church challenged JJ that his membership in the Masons was sacrilegious, and that he needed to choose which master he was going to serve.  Typical of the German heritage, JJ stopped going to church, and he reduced his involvement with the Masons.  My father has never really wanted to talk about this event.  I learned more from my mother and my aunts.  Exactly how JJ felt about what happened I have no idea, but the one thing I do know is that this has left a mark on my father.

My father has no desire to be a part of the church.  He has never been one to join any kind of organization.  Dad is retired now, and he has been participating more with his American Legion then he did while he was working.  He says, because people who served their country need to organize, because someone needs to stick up for the benefits they were promised when they served in the military protecting our freedoms. 

After watching all the programs I can find about secret societies, my opinion is that these organizations found power in unity based on a common idea or profession.  Masons united based on the profession of building trades.  Knights of the Templar united based on defending Christianity.  The Legion is united based on serving in the military.  I don't really need to tell you about these organizations as they are well documented all over the Internet. 

What I do want to share is that the idea of organizing is a universal noble function of man.  "United we Stand, Divided we Fall"  The United States.  Bottom line, I want to be a part of an organization that takes care of their members.  How is being a part of the Masons, or Skull and Bones any different then joining the AARP?

Right now I could stand to be a part of an organization that would help me find a job. 

Network!








Monday, October 3, 2011

Washington County Historical Society Volunteer.


Friday was my first day volunteering with the organization.  They are headquartered in the Warden’s house of the Stillwater Prison along North Main Street. 

Stillwater’s tagline is the birthplace of Minnesota because the initial petitions and meetings to make MN a state were organized there.  Henry Sibley and Joseph Brown were key contributors to the Stillwater Convention.  Minnesota became a state August 26, 1848.

To learn more about these topics go to the Washington County Historical Society web page. (www.wchsmn.org)

I’m working on the biographical index.  I’m clipping articles from the Stillwater Gazette and Stillwater Messenger, and adding them to scrapbooks.  The names are then added to the index that is available on-line.

I came across many stories that were intriguing that deserve their own story, but one jumped out at me that deserved to be researched for this entry.

William Drechsler (Bill) passed away on February 6th 1901 as posted by the Stillwater Gazette.  He ran the rope ferry across the St Croix until the Pontoon Bridge was installed.  It cost about $1 to have the rope ferry pull you across the river by horse and cart.

 Bill was born in Germany on November 29, 1834.  He arrived in Stillwater in 1857.  There were no family members mentioned in the obituary by name.

Bill Drechsler is also mentioned in the Polk’s Stillwater city Directory of 1890-1891.

The Minnesota Territorial and State Census of 1875 list William by himself.  The significant information here is that William and both his parents were born in Hessia.  I take this to be Hessen, Germany since the obituary states he was born in Germany.  The largest city in Hessen is Frankfurt, Germany. 

The other thing that comes to mind is that Hessians were the German people that helped the British in the Revolutionary War.  I remember during a public TV broadcast that there were Hessians that chose to stay in America even after the Revolutionary War was over. 

Bill’s family didn’t leave Germany until after his birth in 1834, arriving in MN, in 1857, long after the Revolutionary War.  War may have been a good reason to leave Germany because there were wars occurring in Frankfurt at the time. 

That plan didn’t work very well since William is listed in the US Civil War Draft Registration Records. He is 28 yrs. old and listed as a married laborer.

Ancesty.com has one member that lists him as married to a Catherine Racher with a daughter Anna Mary.  The location listing is for Houlton, Wisconsin, which would be the other side of the river from Stillwater.  I was unable to find records to verify this information.

Stay tuned for more.

Friday, September 23, 2011

Progress So Far - SCAD

Sept 23rd.  I never expected that getting into a graduate program would require so much effort or that it would cost so much money.  The Sept 12th date came and went.  I'm still jumping through hoops.  I need to send them everything about my financial state right now.  I just hope SCAD doesn't find out about my golden goose.  NOT!  SCAD is coming to UofM soon, I will have to go talk to them face to face about their program.

Tomorrow I'm headed to Washington County Historical Society to volunteer.  I'm hoping to learn something about how people get the qualifications they need to apply for positions like archivist, curator, project developer and such.  I found no program in Minnesota for Historic Preservation although I do know that MacCalester and Hamlin have similar programs.  Those are the sources that MN Historical Society uses for their interns.  I would love to work on a project through Borealis Publishing.  That would be my ultimate goal to publish a book based on historical facts, or a fictional story based in an historically factual setting.  Working for Borealis would allow me to see a real life experience.  It would expose me to what it is really like to edit historical stories, research them, and get them published. 

I did think about taking more classes for grant management.  That seems to be a desired skill in the industry.  I took some classes through Ed2go.com in Temucla CA.  It is sponsored by the local school district.  Cottage Grove has the best community education program that I have ever seen.  Keep up the good work Cottage Grove School District 833.

I'm working on the Archiver/McGill flower project as well.  My fingers are covered in dye ink and glue.  I'm trying to design my own petals for a pasque flower, and then using dogwood flowers as well.  I need to go view the rules again as well as document the end date for submission. 

Talk to ya later! 

Wednesday, August 31, 2011

Finding my life

I'm finding my life.

I have worked as a Software Developer for almost thirty years, but I want something new and refreshing.  This may sound a little like a mid-life crisis.  Although, I just know myself better now then I did in my teens and twenties when I got so involved in programming languages.  I have to respect all the technology that I have learned over the years, but I need to express myself creatively. 
I thought this meant working on crafty projects in my spare time which I love, but I want more.
I am intrigued by projects like Mnopedia or Wikipedia.  I think this is increasing with social media exploding, and search engines more robust then ever before.
I have to say one of my favorite social media networks is ravelry.com.  Everyone on the site is a knitter or a crocheter.  I connect with these people. 
So, I'm a creative person with a technology background, but what kind of job can you get with that?
I'm interested in history.  That is why you see the previous blog is about land history.  I'm amazed at how much can be learned about who and what came before us.

I've always wanted to write my own book.  I've started many times.  I have short stories I've written, but I keep them to myself.  
I took a creative writing class, but I cringed at the idea of actually posting something I created for publishing.  (yeah, I know I write a blog - I have two followers - and one is my sister).

I applied for a Master's Degree in Historic Preservation at the Savannah College of Art and Design.  I finished submitting my portfolio, which I was focused on for many days, and now I have doubts whether it is even good enough to warrant acceptance.  I asked the admission counselor if she could give me a full day of her attention just so I can finish and start thinking about actually attending school.  Oh, that brings up another problem I have - recommendations - I've asked people, some completely ignore me, others say they will do it, but don't.   UGH!    Enough said.

I also thought about applying for internships, but how do you do that when  you don't know the parameters to getting credit for them.  Minnesota History Center is working on some very interesting projects.  Writing an encyclopedia, yes.

Of course, with all these thoughts, I still need to pay the bills.

Here is a shout out to anyone who feels like posting a reccommendation for me.  It needs to be e-mailed to admission@scad.edu.  Yes, I'm desperate.


History, technology, and writing.  Merge it all together and you come out with ????

Stay tuned to find out the answer to the meaning of life, or shall I say my life.

Barn Paper

Any accountant will tell you that land is one of the few resources that is not depreciated. Land always has a value. Land has always had a history, and it will have a future long after this paper is written. Louis O’Donnell believed in the value of land. One of the most common things he would say in his life is that land is a good investment. The northwestern quarter of section 18 of Mellette Township in Spink County in South Dakota is the focus of our story. The legal description being the northwest quarter of section 18 township 119 in range 63.
The Indians that are first noted in the nineteenth century took claim of this land after being shuffled out of Minnesota. The Native American was always moving further west as the European settlers claimed the land. France also took claim to this land via a more politically acceptable method of the time. The United States Government opened this land for settlement, and from that point forward the story can be documented of the people and happenings of this farm. The settlers that first broke ground faced many challenges. They also triumphed.. The buildings and tools used on the farm show that it was a business. The characteristics of the farm also demonstrate that it was part of life on the farm. Hamlin Garland in his book “Sons of the Middle Border” talks about all the activities that happened in and around the barn. Garland sums up his feelings of the barnyard in this quote. “For me the grime and the mud and the sweat and the dust exist. They still form a large part of life on the farm, and I intend that they shall go into my stories in their proper proportion.” (Garland) This acreage proves to be the same. The barn is a focal point of the farm. It hosts the work as well as the play for the families. Often the pioneer life encompasses work and play.
The land was part of the Louisiana Purchase of 1803. Napoleon offered the US more land than the government had expected. Monroe and Livingston contracted a deal for over a million acres of land for 15 million dollars. The Mississippi was a major thorough fare for trade in western United States. Following the purchase, Lewis and Clark were commissioned by the U.S. President Thomas Jefferson to investigate the land. Forts were built in many areas of the Dakota Territory to protect settlers from the natives. . The nearest fort to the farm is Fort Sisseton which lies northeast in the Couteau Hills. Fort Sisseton was originally called Fort Wadsworth before it was changed to Sisseton in honor of the tribes that resided in the area. The hilly landscape provided for a scenic view of the prairie below as well as a natural defense. There were many lakes in the area for drinking water. The lakes were named based on how far they were from the fort. Mr. Freeman grew up at Four Mile Lake and as you guessed it, it was four miles from the fort. (Freeman)
The Sioux conceded the land east of the Missouri River in an 1858 Treaty. Settlers were arriving as fast as the Railroads. The Railroad had reached halfway across the State by 1873. (Wiki) The Chief Drifting Goose Band of the Yanktonai Sioux, although mostly a peaceful people, intimidated surveyors as well as the settlers. This particular section was included in the Drifting Goose Reservation that President Hayes set aside for the tribe. Hayes revoked the reservation when more local government bodies told him that the settlers would fight for the land they homesteaded. (Harlow) This area would be the land where Abigail Gardner was held captive. Most of the credit for the tortures and crimes went to Inkpaduta. In the book A Fate Worse than Death by Michno he refers to the rescue of Abigail Gardener. “Inkpaduta moved to a large village on the James River in present-day Spink County, South Dakota. On May 30, 1857, three Wahpeton’s appeared and began a three-day bargaining session for Abigail. An expensive deal was struck, and for two horses, twelve blankets, two powder kegs, twenty pounds of tobacco, thirty-two yards of blue cloth and thirty-seven yards of calico, Abigail had new owners.” (Michno, 197) Armadale Island which was the summer home for the Drifting Goose Band lies to the north east about six miles, and is also part of Mellette Township. The large village where Inkpaduta relinquished Abigail is six miles south of the section. The Yaktonai were being pushed to the Crow Wing Reservation near Fort Thompson after the reservations were established, which lies in the southern part of the state along the Missouri River but in the spring the tribe returned to grow crops such as pumpkins and enjoy the view of the river island. (Gibbon, Freeman)
Between the years 1840-1880, Chief Drifting Goose a Yaktonai Sioux roamed this section of land. George P. Cady considered Drifting Goose a friend, or perhaps his relationship was more of a liaison to the settler’s community. George Cady worked at the bank in Mellette and was a Notary Public,(Freeman) Cady has his signature and stamp on most of the historic abstracts for the section of land.(Abstract) On the other hand, Mike O’Donnell, Coral’s grandfather, felt threatened by the chief and his tribe which numbered just over one-hundred people. Mike mentioned to his granddaughter that it made him uncomfortable when Drifting Goose would camp on the other side of the James River from Rondell, South Dakota, where Mr. O’Donnell had his first butcher shop. (Freeman) Armadale Island became a celebration ground for the white man as well as the natives. Chief Drifting Goose attended Independence Day celebrations on the island with whites and the natives. The Mellette Tribune, the local newspaper, invited people from all around to celebrate on the island. A race track was built on the island to race horses at first and then cars. As the times changed the island became a rendezvous point for the local youth to have parties. Today, Armadale Island is under water in the middle of the James River. The only sign of their ever being an island is the outline of dead trees. It has been that way for the last fifteen years. The bridge on Hwy 20 crossing the James River has been dedicated to Chief Drifting Goose just this year, 2011. The bridge has been named the Chief Drifting Goose Bridge. The local trap shooting club refers to their summer celebration as the Drifting Goose Rendezvous, as well. (Freeman) Perhaps the Yaktonai has finally received recognition for his part of shaping the area and the state.
The first US patent for Section 18 was established by Eliza I. Thompson in 1887. She becomes a widow by 1902, evident when she borrows money against the land, where she is referred to as a widow in the abstract log. (Abstract) She arrived in South Dakota from Wisconsin where she was born and raised. (Census) In the Prairie Echo’s history of Spink County, Dana Harlow mentions that there was a good sized gathering of Catholics that had come from Wisconsin to homestead land and start the All Saints Catholic Church in Mellette. Perhaps this is how and why the Thompson’s came to settle here. (Harlow) The patent states she received 159 acres give or take. This would be just the northwest corner of section 18. She raised three children by herself Lauren, Mabel, and Floyd. (Census) Lauren the oldest would be only seven when he loses his father. Eliza’s husband Charles does not appear on the homestead documents. Charles homesteaded other quarters of land in the township. (Bureau) Upon Eliza’s death her oldest son Lauren Richard Thompson takes the farm over, he is in his forties. Lauren marries Ivy Veatch a girl from Conde, just twenty miles to the east of the farm. The Thompson’s were not unlike most of the pioneers of the prairie. They survived the blizzards of 1880, 1887 and 1888, which left flooding on the James River which lies east of the farm less than two miles away. (Kingsbury) The crops were good in the eighties, and they continued to be good into the 1920’s. They rejoiced when South Dakota became a state in 1889 after much debate and strife.(Spink) The crops continue to prosper during the 1900’s and 1910’s, although some of the land is mortgaged to cover the taxes from year to year.(Spink, Harlow) The community deals with the influx of the railroad. The Minneapolis and St Louis railroad is opened in 1884 running east to west from Crandall SD to the Missouri River in Le Beau SD. The Milwaukee railroad was already in service in a north to south route running north to Aberdeen, and south to Redfield. (Hofsommer, 92) The local farmers seek to have representation with the Railroads by sending Harry Hunter of Mellette to Pierre as State Representative in 1881. The farmers think the railroads are impeding the crops getting to market. After it is all said and done Harry Hunter becomes a lobbyist for the railroads at the State Capital in Pierre. The problems with the railroads are not resolved to the farmer’s expectations. In 1881, US President Garfield is assassinated. The state stands by to see what happens with the Indian Treaties under President Arthur, as well as the continuing debate over statehood for Dakota Territory. The invention of the car at first brought new goods to deliver, but it also called for road construction. The people wanted to drive their own vehicles on the newly developed roads and the passenger train in South Dakota would be no more. (Kingsbury)
Lauren Thompson and his wife continue to farm into the 1930’s. Lauren had issues with gambling. The farm suffered because of this and during the twenties Lauren was forced to mortgage some of the acreage at times, and it shows that at times he would come across money to be able to pay off all his debtors. Lauren R Thompson passes away in March of 1935. Ivy, his wife, spends several months in court hashing out the probate and bankruptcy of the farm. (Freeman, Oberle, Petition)
The first barn on the farm burns. A new barn is built to the south of the old barn. The new barn is paid for in 1929 from the Crandall Lumber Company which is thirty miles to the east of the farm. (Affidavit) The part numbers on the pulleys and the hay knife link back to the Menasha Wood Split Pulley Company in Menasha Wisconsin. The town of Menasha is located on Lake Winnebago southwest of Green Bay. The town is still known for making wood products. (Menasha)
Fig.2



The town of Crandall as well as Mellette is on the Minneapolis & St Louis Railroad which is the most likely way that the materials for the new barn are delivered to the farm. The railroad was established in 1884, but by today the sign of there ever being a railroad has all but disappeared. (WPA, 68) The current Northwestern High School football field sits where the “M&StL” line ran through Mellette. (Freeman) This would be south of current Hwy 20 running parallel with the road. The town of Mellette lies three miles northwest of the farm. Mellette was named after the last Governor of the Dakota Territory and the first Governor of the State of South Dakota (Harlow) Governor Arthur Calvin Mellette resided in Watertown which lies to the southeast about 80 miles. A.C. Mellette served as the register at the United States Land Office in Watertown. (Wiki-AC Mellette)
The barn was most likely built during a barn-raising with the help of neighbors. There were many barn raisings on the prairie and the neighbors looked out for one another. (Freeman) Western barns are very common on the South Dakota prairie, but the barn of today isn’t utilized like it was in the early twentieth century. The latest in innovation for 1929 was the pre-built pieces of the plank barn. The plank barn was built with screws and bolts, but the rebuilt barn is made with trusses and nails. This would give more proof that the barn was built in the old fashioned way, and may have required more help than just a few people. The traditions of use and mechanical function of the old fashioned method are lost from memory. The barn was a place for doing business, but it was also a hub for the family. The days of pulling the plow with the horses ended with a brush down and cool down walk with the team. It was work, but there was time for rest to enjoy the weather, or to take part in the fruits of the harvest. The well-maintained barn was a sign of prosperity, especially if there was a house built on the farm. (Johnson).
The barn on section 18 is a common Prairie Barn, or Western Barn. (Auer) The floor plan is a 36’ X 36’ standard layout with one box stall and three standard stalls on the west side of the main hall. The eastside has two standard stalls a staircase leading to the haymow and under the stairs is a door way to the original “lean to”. North of the stairs is room for horse tack and horse feed. The east” lean to” was built along with the 1929 barn. The west” lean to” was added in 1976 with Steve Roberts, contractor. Both of the "lean tos" have cement floors, although the main barn does not have a cement floor. It only has cement under the frame of the barn. The back door of the main barn leads out to the pasture. The Prairie Barn is greatly influenced by the Dutch and English. The English adopted Dutch techniques for the barns on the prairie. (Upton) The O’Donnell’s and Freeman’s used the main barn mostly for raising horses and cattle. The “lean to” was used for sheep and pigs. The pig lot extended out from the west side of the barn. The “lean to” included slot doors where the door lifts from the top so that the pigs and sheep can be separated quickly by releasing the wood panel back down in place. Shortly after the 1976 construction a door from the main barn to the west “lean to” was added through the box stall. Currently, the barn is being used for storage. Mr. Freeman stores two boats and a pickup topper, and other miscellaneous. The west “lean to” houses a few cars covered in dust and a woodstove in the northwest corner. It looks as though the car mechanic just quit working one day and no one has touched the stuff since. (Freeman)
The main barn is built with a gambrel roof. The pentice sticks out about six to eight feet on the north side of the barn. This feature is what makes it a Prairie or Western barn. (Auer) The pentice is the extended mechanics of the haymow door where the point of the roof sticks out over the large door.
Fig.3


The barn has a track at the very top that controls the large haymow door. The hay slings are also controlled on the track. It delivers the hay from the ground to the second level. A series of pulleys control the door with a rope from the top of the door through a metal brace on the door to the first pulley that runs along the ceiling rollers.
Fig.4


This pulley will extend out to the pentice as well as most of the length of the haymow. The second pulley is attached to the south opposite end of the barn. The rope continues down through a hole in the floor of the haymow to a pulley on the floor of the main level of the barn. When in use the rope would continue through the main ally of the barn out to the harnessed horses.
Fig.5

Showing the tongue of the harness for the horse team.
The horses would hold the door in place by pulling away from the main alley door. When the haymow door was ready to be opened the horses were backed up to loosen the slack. The haymow door top would slide out along the pulley; the rope on the pulley would guide the hinged door down so that it folded down from the top. At that point the hay slings would be used on the roller track and pulleys.
Fig.6

Hay Sling stored in the haymow.
The hay sling could haul one ton of hay from the ground, along the pulley and rollers and deliver the bales to the floor where the farmer could unload and stack them into the haymow. Most of the other doors on the barn are on a slide roller. Two slide doors allow for easy access to the lower areas of the haymow. This allowed for filling the beginning levels of hay from a truck parked just beneath the slide door. The main alley doors at both ends are also on a slide roller.

The haymow has holes above the feed bunks in the stalls to drop hay to the horses or cattle. The haymow comes complete with a short handled straw scythe or hay knife to loosen the hay that gets compacted at the bottom. (Freeman)
Fig.8

Hay Knife
Many of the same kinds of barns included two features that this barn is lacking. The cupola which is the ornate metal piece that sits at the top of the roof. It includes a rotating cylinder that allows for heat to escape from the barn. Sometimes barns include more than one of these. The Farm Mechanics periodical mentions that smaller barns didn’t need a cupola. The other item is lightning rods. Most builders felt that lightning rods were absolutely necessary for the building. (Johnson) It is possible that these were removed somewhere along the way in the life of the barn. The farmer, Lauren Thompson, was having money difficulties so many shortcuts may have been taken to reduce cost. It is also worthy to note that there were many lumber companies closer to the farm then the Crandall Lumber Co.(Affidavit) Crandall may have been the nearest location that would provide credit to Lauren.
Fig.9

The large porcelain sign that indicated the location of the lumber company.
During the early thirties the Lauren Thompson family continues to struggle with the farm. This was happening to not only the Thompson’s but most of the nation. The Great Depression was being felt by the nation, but the biggest problem for the Thompson’s was the dust storms. Up until the 1930’s the Dakota land was farmed the same as east coast farmers and used farming techniques from the country they originated, mostly western European. The result of the dirty thirties made farmers think about how to keep the ground from blowing around. South Dakota is known for its wind, and drought. This would continue to be a problem without a change in farming techniques. Wind erosion became a bigger problem with human cultivation. Over the next fifty years farmers change their methods. Rows of trees were planted down the length of fields to slow down the wind-blown materials as well as leave the snow melt in the fields. The determination was that the best way to retain water in the area was to have vegetative matter growing in the areas. Farmers left field stubble in the fields during winter until spring when they would till and plant fields. It was determined that it didn’t matter if the vegetation was alive or dead. Further along other methods are utilized. No till or low till cultivation eliminated the need for plows. The grain was planted in stubble fields where the field was only disked to break up the earth enough to plant seed. New crops were introduced such as soybeans, and sunflowers providing for the rotation of broad leaf crops with grass type crops such as wheat. These crops required different nutrients from the ground so they were used in rotation to avoid depletion of healthy soil. Nitrogen would be the biggest nutrient that is depleted from soil during cultivation. The soil in and around the James River Valley including section 18 is sandy loam. The land seldom yields a rock to inhibit field work. (USDA) Mrs. Freeman says this type of soil is favorable for crop growing. (Freeman)
The Thompson farm continues to be mortgaged to pay for the taxes during the early thirties, and in some years the taxes are not paid by any means. Lauren Thompson passes away in March of 1935. Lauren’s wife Ivy relinquishes any interest in the farm to H.W. Flint and his wife Jane who are residents of Sioux Falls SD for one dollar and value. (Bankruptcy) It was common at the time not to disclose actual dollars on publicly available documents. Privacy was very important to the cultures of the area and the time. (Freeman)
The farm goes back to Spink County and the State of South Dakota sometime between 1936 and 1944. There are no records of taxes or ownership until 1944 when Leland and Kittie Keiser purchase the farm from the county. The Keiser’s never lived on the farm. They were residents of Conde. They leased the farm to Milton Foster, who was a bachelor share-cropper at the time. This was a short lived arrangement. (Deed, Oberle)
Louis and Stella O’Donnell, Coral Ann Freeman’s parents, purchased the house from the Keiser's in September of 1948. The house had not been lived in for some time when the O’Donnell’s moved in. Stella mentioned that they spent many days cleaning the house with her daughter, Coral, and her good friend, Hazel. Stella was first generation American Dutch and grew up in Ashton a town 8 miles south of the farm. Stella’s father and mother came from Finken, Netherlands for the second time on the 4th of April of 1912. (New York) They were custodians of the church in the Netherlands, but they did odd jobs such as carpentry in the US. Louis grew up in Rondell, and Mellette. His father, Mike, ran the grocery store and butcher shop in each of these towns. Mike emigrated from Canada just before the turn of the century. He did not become a US citizen until July of 1945. (US Naturalization) He states on his WW1 Draft record that he was a citizen of Canada. (WW1) Louis’ mother, Francis was a descendent of the Mayflower Compact signer, John Howland. Mike and Francis would divorce in the twenties. The crux was most likely the death of their daughter Laura who suffered from black diphtheria. Laura suffered from this disease in 1921 prior to penicillin becoming a regular means to treat illness in rural areas. (Abstract, Freeman)
Louis and Stella had two daughters Coral and Joy and one son Michael. Coral and Joy attended the Morgan school which was on the northeast quarter of section 18. It was less than a mile to school, but it really was all up hill. Their grade school years were at the one room school house, but both girls graduated from high school. Coral graduated from Mellette High School. Joy graduated from Northwestern High School which was a combined school from neighboring communities. The population was decreasing. It was necessary to merge schools. As the years have gone by, the number of communities that are part of the cooperative have increased. (Harlow) Their son Michael would only live a few days. Stella and Coral would call him a “blue baby”. This would be a treatable problem in today’s world, but it is a heart defect. It was untreatable in 1937 in rural South Dakota. (Freeman)
The O’Donnell’s had lived on a rented farm southeast of this section. They saved up many years before purchasing the farm on Section 18. Louis worked for the Rural Electric Company installing high wires to help contribute to the savings. In letters he sends to his wife he talks about the cost of glass, and the camaraderie of the crews from all over the Dakotas. The glass was for the insulators on the electric lines. Stella stays behind on the rented farm serving meals from only the items they could raise. Eggs from the chickens they raised were the most common source of protein. Stella would say many times that if eggs were bad for you she would have died long before now. (O’Donnell) In the historical documents for the farm is a bill of sale dated 1942. It is a bill of sale from Louis to his wife. The payment for the sale is “One dollar - assistance with the milk route and other valuable considerations.” (Bill of Sale) I asked Coral what she thought the document was about. She mentioned that the bank witnesses were all Louis’ good friends, George P Cady, and Montgomery Cliff. She speculated that it was Louis apologizing for bad behavior and his willingness to change his ways by giving Stella all the control of any belongings he possessed. It was also noted that the May 2nd date was the day before Stella’s birthday. Louis was known to have a wild streak. He ran moonshine during prohibition, he had no fear of high places, and he loved to break horses as well. (Freeman)
Louis and Stella continued to farm Section 18. They acquired other land to farm by purchase, and by renting, or share-cropping. In 1970, Louis was diagnosed with Lymphoma Cancer. He hired his son-in-law Orrin Freeman to work the farm as well as provide for his wife, Stella, when he passed. That same year the Freeman’s moved to the house on Section 18, and Louis and Stella took the house in Mellette that the Freeman’s had been living in. (Freeman)
The original house on the farm was hauled away to a farm near Richmond, South Dakota in the seventies and replaced by a more modern split level home. The building was started in 1972 the contractor was Dean Christenson. The last billing statement for the farm house was delivered in 1976 from Dean Christenson of Warner SD for additional materials for about three thousand dollars less any payments already made. (Christenson) The new house cost approximately twenty thousand dollars and took four years to complete. (Freeman)
In August of 1972 Louis succumbs to cancer. Louis was 59 years old, three months short of his sixtieth birthday. Orrin and Coral Ann Freeman and family continue to farm the section under a share crop agreement. This allows for economic support for Stella as well as the Freeman family. Orrin Freeman is also a school teacher in Mellette at Northwestern High School teaching math at the junior high and high school level. Coral works for a telemarketing firm, and hotel reservation firm after their children are out of high school. This agreement continued until 2006 when Stella needs nursing home care. Some of the land was sold to pay for the nursing home care. Stella passes in April of 2010. Orrin and Coral Ann Freeman are able to maintain ownership of the land in the north western corner of Section 18. They continue to farm section 18 as well as one other quarter that they lease. They are currently in their seventies and thinking more about retirement and traveling. During the interview, Coral and Orrin show me a brochure of a trip to Cape Cod. Perhaps they will learn some more about Coral’s link to the Mayflower Compact and John Howland. (O’Donnell, Freeman) They raise four children, and their grandchildren continue to enjoy the land for work and play. During Mr. Freeman’s interview his grandson, Nicholas was painting the buildings red. Red would be a traditional color for most barns, and dairies traditionally have white barns. (Auer)
Undoubtedly, the farm is ready for a new change, but what that change will be is certainly any bodies guess. Mr. Freeman has resigned the barn to be a storage building as well as shelter for the many pheasant chicks he raises each fall and winter.
The Native Americans in the area for the most part have adapted to the settlers ways. Most of them are no longer full blooded Native Americans. They can trace their roots to many European countries as well as different tribes that lived in Minnesota and the Dakotas.
The Railroads are not as many, but in the fall when the harvest is in full swing the grain car trains are long and often. The grain elevators look more like skyscrapers, and the wind turbines have arrived. During the day, the turbines look like robots from a Star Wars movie. At night it looks more like a spaceship runway off on the Coteau Hills. Mrs. Freeman isn’t very happy about the grain elevator that has been built in the last decade on the south side of Mellette. She calls it an eye sore.
The farm house has been maintained over the years. The most recent changes for the farm house have been a new metal roof installed in 2010. Also, the owners have introduced the internet to the farm house. During the last year the Freeman’s have used AT&T, then Verizon, and finally James Valley TV to be their internet service provider. It has been a struggle to maintain communication through the internet as well as cellphone reception.
The history of the land is very intriguing. Section 18 is no exception. The author uncovered information that was mostly hard to believe without validation in black and white. Land always has a value. The beginning of the farm was a patent which cost a few dollars for the entire quarter, it reached a mortgage value of about $30 an acre in just a little more than a decade. In the late 1940’s the value of land is anywhere from $60-$90 an acre. The land has increased tenfold today. The O’Donnell’s, the Thompson’s, The Keiser’s, and the Freeman’s have all left a legacy for the next generation. The land has been marked. The author also finds it interesting that this particular section of land was owned more by a woman then a man. Pioneer life apparently was a little more tolerant with women in the work place. Of course, the author realizes that the spouse homesteading a quarter of land allowed for larger farms for one family.
There is more to uncover in this story as well. Lauren Richard Thompson died at the age of fifty years old, how did he die?
The story has uncovered very little about Charles Thompson. How did Charles meet Eliza and where did he come from?
The Flint’s retained the land after 1936 but did they ever farm it, and what happened that the land went back to the county before 1944?
Why did Louis write up a Bill of Sale to Stella in 1942?
The future is a mystery yet to unfold.

Tuesday, April 12, 2011

Ashley Judd - My cousin

I will make this a quick one. On Friday's last episode of "Who Do You Think You Are?", Ashley found out that William Brewster is her 10th Great Grandfather. William Brewster is my 12th great grandfather. Brewster's oldest son Jonathan is also a common ancestor for both of us. I have yet to figure out the exact placement of the connection. A quick guess would be 8th cousin two times removed. I just think it is cool to connect someone like Ashley to my tree. Cool!

Saturday, March 12, 2011

Who Do You Think You Are? Entitled That's What.

I'm in a mood this evening, so I'm going to spew, rant, exactly how I feel about all those people who think they are entitled because of who their families are, or are not. Listen closely, Paris Hilton, and everyone else living off their Daddies money, or anyone else's money.

I've been interested in my families history for a long time since I was a pre-teen. I'm just not so sure how common it is to find yourself connected to so many high fluting people. I told my sister the other day that when we set in history class at the teachers talked about our fore fathers they really meant our relatives that came before us, same blood passed through their veins as ours not all that many generations ago.

My relative that is most connected to all this high fluting business is my maternal great grandmother Francis. I did know her. She babysat me on occassion when I was a youngster and lived to be 102 yrs old. She was a ward of the state of Mnnesota. Francis Belle Ellsworth was born to Elmer Wakefield Ellsworth and Katherine Mabel (Kittie) Bassett on November 11, 1892 in Rochester MN. There only child as Kittie went ill shortly after and passed away in Dec of 1894. Elmer being a young farmer didn't exactly now what to do with a young toddler while he was farming. Court records filed in Olmsted county state that he tied her to a tree while he went to work the fields. Elmer gave up custody of Francis to the state with a $100 bond that Francis would receive when she became an adult. In this case when she married Michael Joseph O'Donnell, my great grandfather. MJ and Elmer fostered a deal for them to get married. None of the details were ever known to current relatives, but from that marriage Mike and Francis started a meat market in Rondell South Dakota. They had seven children, four boys, one of which was my grandfather Louis, and three girls. It was an unhappy marriage that ended in divorce. The breaking straw being the death of their middle daughter Laura from diptherea.

I'm taking you in the wrong direction. I want to go back before Francis was born, or even Elmer, and Kittie. The names Elsworth and Bassett were names from Early American history. Could it be possible that I was descended from any of these affluent people of Colonial time?

Um . . . yes! I think I will make a list here and expound on all the greatness that my ancestors have to behold. I've found statistics that say that ten percent of the US population can say they are related to someone who boarded the Mayflower in 1620 on its trip to Plymouth Massachusetts. I'm interested to know if all those people can put together this kind of linkage.

9th Great Grandfather, John Howland. He was the young man who fell overboard into the Atlantic Ocean on their faithful trip to America. Of course he married my 9th great grandmother, Elizabeth Tilley, who was also aboard the Mayflower. She was the only member of her family to survive the first year in Plymouth. John Tilley her father, and Edward Tilley her uncle both signed the Mayflower Compact. They both passed in 1621 the first year in Plymouth.

William Brewster is my 12th great grandfather.

6th Great Grandfather, Lt Fortunatus Bassett, he was a member of the crew of the Brigadine privateer ship the "General Benedict". He was one of the unfortunate who froze to death on Christmas Day 1778. The crew was on its way to the West Indies to retrieve supplies for Washington's Army. A snowstorm trapped them in Plymouth Harbor in sub-zero temperatures. Quite possibly that is why his youngest son Cornelius Bassett moved to Warren PA. Then on to Olmsted County MN where he took several of his sons to start a saw mill. They were wagon builders.

John Trumbull, author, artist. American soldier, diplomat, author, painter
After a military career aiding George Washington, John Trumbull went abroad to paint. His skill as an artist went largely unnoticed until the U.S. Senate commissioned him to paint 4 war paintings which now hang in the U.S. Capitol. He went on to be president of the American Academy of Fine Art.

6th cousin, 7x removed, John Hancock, famous for his beautiful & large signature on the Declaration of Independence.

2nd great grand uncle, John Rozelle Topliff, served in the Wisconsin Infantry during the Civil War in company K. He suffered illness in the first year but returned to service. He was mustered out in Brownsville Texas in August of 1866. Although hardly famous, he should still be remembered as a hero in the same regard as those who have been written about in depthly in the story books.

8th great grandfather, Matthew Mayhew, original owner and namer of Martha's Vineyard.

8th Cousin 2x removed, 41st President George Herbert Walker Bush and his son 43rd President George Walker Bush, who is my 9th cousin, once removed.

6th cousin 5x removed, 19th President Rutherford Birchard Hayes.

38th President, Gerald Ford.

There are lots of Reverends in the list. I find the most intriguing character was Marcia Melissa Bassett Colgrove Goodwin. She was an editor, printer and publisher of women's materials for the Sufferage Movement. She may have even been more famous in history if she wouldn't have died prior to the establishment of the movement.

The next major category of ancestors and descendants are writers.

Geoffery Chaucer, 20th Great Grandfather. (Link between Deacon John Dunham, and Thomas Dunham is debateable and mostly likely not true).
Ralph Waldo Emerson, 5th cousin 6 times removed.
Edgar Lee Masters, 8th cousin 3 times removed.

We should include Doctors as well.

Dr Medad Parsons, Sixth Great Grandfather. Physician in Vermont until his death in 1818.


I will have to tell you more, as there is so much it will not all fit in one post.

Wednesday, February 16, 2011

My Dear IBM,

Have you been watching Jeopardy this week with Man vs Machine? The human element - I think those words have the technology guru's at IBM on their heads. Maybe they need to knit Watson a cozy, do you suppose that would make Watson more human? Or, on a higher plain, to be human is to practice esoteric existentialism. (If you have to look those words up in the dictionary, it's okay, I had to look them up to make sure I was really saying what I meant.) This may require some serious "outside the box" thinking.

That brings me to this new non-profit program called Code for America. Here is their about statement from their website.

"Code for America enlists the brightest minds of the web industry into public service to use their skills to solve core problems facing our communities. We help talented technologists leverage the power of the internet to make governments more open and efficient, and become civic leaders able to realize transformational change with technology."

Doesn't that sound beneficial for Watson? Checkout their website at codeforamerica.org, and get your city signed up for the evolution.

How many of you actually thought that city, county, and state governments actually shared information, like criminal records. Of course over a number of years governments can access individual databases for information but you have to know which database and some idea of the answer you’re expecting. Imagine, accessing a super-computer filled with all the knowledge of the United States of America from Early American history to what happened yesterday, from the contents of the Library of Congress, to the lastest issue of your local newspaper. That is a ton of data. It is meaningless if you can't find it within your life span, but nearly 3000 servers searching the database for you, you may actually get the knowledge you are seeking. "Watson, can you write a term paper for me about the Civil War while I stand here for 3 seconds breathing?"

There are so many uses for Watson. Like the billions of documents that governments around the world have collected keeping track of their people. I think this would be a lot easier if it could be accessed from a central location. "Watson, summarize everything you know about John G Doe". It goes without saying that there is an element of "Big Brother" here, but all information in the hands of the wrong person can be dangerous.

As a person in the technology industry, I am amazed at the leaps and bounds that have been achieved in my life time. You cannot rest on what you know today there is more to learn, to discover, to invent, to share, to live. Rest and you face obsolescence. (Anyone feeling a little stressed over this? My hand is raised.)

Growing up watching Star Trek the idea of actually carrying around a tricorder, seemed like, (and was) science fiction. It was the creation of a huge imagination. Our smart phones have really closed the gap between science fiction and reality. I always say that I wish someone could figure out teleportation. I want to live in the remote country side, and work in the city. I could have the best of both worlds. I could always see my family and friends on a given notice. Go some place warm and sunny to refresh my Vitamin levels, but just go overnight, or over lunch.

A Tricorder was a communication device, a vital sign reader. What else could it do? Did it really come into play during teleportation? Perhaps it was a GPS locator. Smart phones can communicate, and apps are generated for GPS locations. Also, have you heard of HealthTune 360? It is an app for monitoring 12 vital signs using BlueTooth technology by BostonLabs. Doctor’s actually say it is more useful on an Ipad because they can actually read it. Aren't you glad you supported the creation of satellite's? Bottom-line, smart phones are tricorders.

Now, on to splitting humans into pieces so we can be transported through space.

Watson, Code for America, IBM, & Jeopardy

Have you been watching Jeopardy this week with Man vs Machine? The human element - I think those words have the technology guru's at IBM on their heads. Maybe they need to knit Watson a cozy, Or, On a higher plain, to be human is to practice esoteric existentialism. (If you have to look those words up in the dictionary it's okay, I had to look them up to make sure I was really saying what I meant.) This may require some serious "outside the box" thinking. I have visions of Matrix in my head where humans are all plugged into pods because humans are the database the super-computer needs.

That brings me to this new non-profit program called Code for America. Here is their about statement from their website.

"Code for America enlists the brightest minds of the web industry into public service to use their skills to solve core problems facing our communities. We help talented technologists leverage the power of the internet to make governments more open and efficient, and become civic leaders able to realize transformational change with technology."

Doesn't that sound beneficial for Watson? Checkout their website at codeforamerica.org.

How many of you actually thought that city, county,and state governments actually shared information, like criminal records. Of course over a number of years governments can access individual databases for information but you have to know which database and some idea of the answer your expecting. Imagine, accessing a super-computer filled with all the knowledge of the United States of America from Early American history to what happened yesterday, from the contents of the Library of Congress, to the lastest issue of your local paper. That is a ton of data. It is meaningless if you can't find it within your life span, but nearly 3000 servers searching the database for you, you may actually get the knowledge you are seeking. "Watson can you write a term paper for me while I stand here for 3 seconds breathing?"

So many uses for Watson. Like the billions of documents that governments around the world have collected keeping track of their people. I think this would be a lot easier if it could be accessed from a central location. "Watson, summarize everything you know about John G Doe". It goes without saying that there is an element of "Big Brother" here, but all information in the hands of the wrong person can be dangerous.

As a person in the technology industry, I am amazed at the leaps and bounds that have been achieved in my life time. You cannot rest on what you know today there is more to learn, to discover, to invent, to share, to live.

Growing up watching Star Trek the idea of actually carrying around a tricorder, seemed like,(and was) science fiction. The creation of a huge imagination. Our smart phones have really closed the gap between science fiction and reality. I always say that I wish someone could figure out teleportation. I want to live in the remote country side, and work in the city. I could have the best of both worlds. I could always see my family and friends on a given notice. Go some place warm and sunny to refresh my Vitamin levels, but just go overnight, or over lunch.

A Tricorder was a communication device, a vital sign reader, what else could it do? Did it really come into play during teleportation? Perhaps it was a GPS locator. Smart phones can communicate, and apps are generated for GPS locations. Also, have you heard of HealthTune 360? It is an app for monitoring 12 vital signs using BlueTooth technology by BostonLabs. Aren't you glad you supported the creation of satellite's? Bottom-line, smart phones are tricorders.

Wednesday, January 26, 2011

Ermie Backus 1810

This name I believe is my fourth great grandmother. This name has officially become a roadblock for me in my genealogy research. I have a birth certificate that claims she is the mother to my third great grandfather Joshua B. Bassett. Ermie(Backus) and John Bassett were the parents to Marcia Melissa Bassett Colgrove Goodwin,my 3rd great grandfather and Fidelia Bassett. I can track back from my Grandfather, Louis, to my great grandmother, Francis, whom I knew as a child. I knew Francis grew up in Rochester MN, and that there were lots of family issues. A fight over land, which to this day I don't believe was resolved legally. Francis' parents Katherine(Kitty)Mabel Bassett and Elmer Ellsworth were married for a very short time. Kitty had health issues, she spent most of her time after her daughter was born in a hospital before dying at a young age. What her health issues were I do not know. I speculate that she was suffering from post partum depression. She never left the hospital after the birth. My gr-grandma Francis was surprised later in life to discover a letter that Kitty had sent from her hospital bed exclaiming how tragic it was that she could not be a mother to her child. Elmer became the soul parent to Francis which didn't work out very well since he was a farmer, and she was a high-spirited toddler. There is documentation in a court hearing that he tied Francis to a tree when he went to work in the fields. At the age of four, Elmer relinquished custody to the State of MN. My gr-grandma became a ward of the state, it cost Elmer $100 that would be given to Francis when she married her husband Michael Joseph O'Donnell.
Kitty was Joshua B Bassett's daughter. Kitty and her parents are buried in Center Grove Cemetery near the old settlement of Genoa MN all under the same stone. John A Bassett, Kitty's grandfather is buried near them as well.
John and his son, Joshua moved from Chardon, Ohio to Genoa, MN to build a saw mill on a north running leg of the Zumbro River. The Olmsted County History states that until the mid 1970's there was still part of the mill standing in that vicinity. After much investigation of the area, and talking to people of the neighborhood the conclusion was that the mill had been torn down in the 80's. It frustrates me to think that it stood while I was alive and never saw it. Ode to have a picture of an ancestors creation.

Ermie Backus stayed behind in Chardon Ohio with her two daughters Marcia and Fedelia. I have no record of divorce. John did not remarry until after 1872 when Ermie Eunice Backus had died. Ermie is apparently a nickname for Eunice sense most of the census data states Eunice in 1850, 1860,and 1870. In the census data her birth place is noted as Tompkins County N.Y. I have not been able to find any information prior to 1850 on Ermie Eunice Backus. I have searched many books about William and John Backus that first settled in Connecticut in the 17th Century, but no Eunice born around 1810. I'm feeling I need to take a trip to Ohio. Ermie Eunice Backus Bassett has a story to tell.

Saturday, September 11, 2010

Stella on 9/11

I had the occasion to ask my Grandma about her reaction to the 9/11 tragedy in Manhattan and the fields of Pennsylvania, & Washington DC. She had lived through many American tragedies during her life, so I wanted to ask her how this compared to events such as Pearl Harbor, D-day, Kennedy's assassination, and Reagan's attempted assassination.
Just in asking folks what they consider Great American tragedies over the last one hundred years, most of them say 9/11 as their first response, but we also remember Hurricane Katerina, BP oil spill, and the Val dis oil spill, Mt St Helen eruption, plane crashes, wild fires spreading 1000 of acres, the sinking of the Titanic, and one tragedy close to home, the collapse of the 35W bridge in Minneapolis MN.
My grandmother lived through all of these events, but never once doubted the survival, or for that matter the continued success of the nation.
I know for myself, I wondered what was going to happen when President Reagan was shot. What did that mean for us as a Nation? Could we go on from here? It turns out this was nothing new to the country, but for me it was. I was in junior high at the time. School was released early. I remember that, but it turned out that as a whole the country was no worse for wear. Reagan returned to his role, the criminal was sentenced, and some other topic took over the front page of our nation's newspapers.
I visited my grandma about a month after 9/11/2001. She said this event seemed so much closer to home. Why, I asked. She said mainly because it happened right before our eyes on the television. It made it seem so real, so right out our back door when the television was showing each event as it happened. Pearl Harbor happened on the radio, half the world away. The news was delayed. It took a few days to really now what happened, and it was only words on the radio.
Interesting enough, to my mother WWII was part of her youth, she remembers going door to door to gather items for war relief. Everyone took part in gathering the needed items for the war, whereas at home items were rationed like sugar and flour. In my opinion we don't seem to share in the pains of war like we did during the world wars. That is good in one respect that our country is more prepared for crisis, and bad in another that the cruelty of war is somehow overshadowed.
In honor of the men and women for centuries who have defended freedom in this country I salute you. It is because of so many sacrifices that I may express myself so freely here, and I am humbled. I am humbled by you and by the women and men who have paved this path I walk before me. How can I not value life in the USA when it has been fought for so passionately?

Wednesday, August 25, 2010

My Grandparents Legacy - Babe

My grandparents worked hard to earn enough money to buy the farm. Grandpa Louis was an electrician who would work on high lines. He had no fear of high places. Growing up, Grandpa always had a collection of poles, and glass conductors for the repairs that needed to be done at the most inopportune time. Electrical wires are susceptible to the weather. The cold, ice freezing on the lines, just when you want to stay indoors he would head out to climb these tall poles with a thick rope and foot pegs.

My grandmother always reminded us of how often they sacrificed to have the farm. They ate eggs at many meals because it was a cheep protein source.
My mother was no exception in this quest for land. Since she was the oldest with no boys in the family, grandpa recruited her to help with the farm work. I should include my aunt at this point, the youngest. She was always left to stay inside to help grandma with the work in the house. From what I understand today, it was clearly a "grass is greener on the other side scenario". At times the work on the inside was no "piece of cake", there were hired hands to feed, homemade bread, and pies to bake. Life was very fulfilling on the farm, but very hard work. The forty hour work week was a figment of some bureaucrats imagination to this family.

Why do I bring all this up you may ask. I'm getting to the story. Grandpa wanted a farm for many reasons. One was that he always believed owning land was a wise investment. I think he was (and is) right about that. Second, he loved animals. He worked for the Arthurs family from a very young age, breaking horses, sorting cattle, whatever chore that related to animals that needed to be done. The neighbors called my Grandpa, a cowboy, or a horseman. Today they would probably think of him as a horse whisperer. My grandfather looked forward to his time in the evening on the farm when the field work was done, and it was time to visit his horses, Gypsy, Billy Bar, and Chico. All of these horses were pedigreed quarter horse mares through the AQHA. Gypsy was our babysitter at the farm. This started my love affair with horses. She would let all four of my siblings on her back, and take us around the pen. Just a lead rope, no bridle, and sometimes I don't think we had a lead either. Billy Bar was a spirited beautiful dapple grey. Chico was a beautiful chestnut mare. She was the horse that officially made me a horsewoman. Grandpa spent most of his training time with Chico, during the time I was a child. She became a world class western pleasure horse under Grandpa's lead. Unfortunately, Grandpa passed in 1972. I was seven years old. That story alone is probably worth an entire blog, so I will move on to our family moving on with life on the farm.

Dad took over the farm from Grandpa. He soon realized that his girls especially loved horses as much as he did maybe even more. The family set out to develop a Quarter Horse breeding farm. We went to auctions and bought breeding stock. At its peek the farm sustained nearly 40-45 brood mares. They were all registered quarter horses. The whole venture of having such a farm is worth another blog, but again I need to get to the story I want to tell you today.

It was another auction during the summer in Ellendale ND, 1980 I believe. My Dad and I set out through the barns to get a close look at the horses for sale that day. My Mom saved us seats in the sale ring while we scoped it out. My father was checking out the brood mares, while I was patiently waiting to find just the horse that I could ride for 4-H Horse shows. This horse would be my pal all summer every summer for the rest of my life as far as I was concerned. I observed conformation, behavior, I got really good at it. I won a couple of purple ribbons in my day judging horses at the state level. By the time we had viewed all the horses destined for the sale ring I could tell you the gelding or mare that would be sold for the highest price because she/he was the ideal western pleasure horse at the sale. This might be good for purple ribbons, but not so good when the farm had a limited budget to buy brood mares, not geldings.

While I dreamed of an unlimited budget for the purpose of my own enjoyment, there was a ruckus in the barn. Just a few pens from the entrance to the sale ring. A mare had gone balistic. Dad and I drifted towards the commotion. Could we be any help? We better stay out of the way. It was hard to tell anything during the time. The thick board fences were dense and limited any view of the situation. Random slur words and utterances came from the cowboys on the inside line.

"Check to see if there is a vet available" "Damn mare has injured her foal". That got my attention. I hate to see an animal suffer. I kept poking at my Dad. "What is happening" "Is the colt going to be okay". My father is the kind who only speaks when he has something important to say. "I don't know" doesn't count. After awhile the colt is let out of the barn to just wander on its own. His insides are falling out of his tummy and he really can't do anything more then curl up in a ball in the grass near the barn. The mare is still on the docket to be sold, but the crew working think she maybe too wound up to get in the ring. She is not happy about being separated from her baby. Meanwhile, I'm pleading for my Dad to take action. "What is going to happen to that colt?" At that point my Dad tells me to go sit with my mother. I really don't want to do that, but I was never a child to disobey my father at 13-14 yrs of age. I head for the sale ring, head hung down, another example of life farming, and ranching, and overall misery on the prairie. I hear my ancestors chime in my head "Pioneer life is tough on the prairie, kid, suck it up, cowgirl up." Before I get too far away I hear my Dad tell one of the Sale Barkers that he is willing to pay $50 for the injured colt if they can get him in the ring. I'm hopeful at that point.

I tried to explain to my mother what was going on. We never saw the colt, or the mare enter the sale ring, but shortly after that Dad comes up to our seats and says "lets go home".

I'm delirious with questions. "Did you get the colt?"

Dad says "Yep, he is in the trailer."

I had many more questions. I didn't see anything in the horse trailer. I spewed questions, but Dad said nothing apparently at that point there was nothing to say. We had a good hour to go to the farm. I had fallen asleep on the trip, and went to bed as soon as we got back to the farm it was late. Dad insisted that he handle this on his own.

He first called his Nephew who was a large animal vet. I heard Dad's side of the conversation, but I was sure Dad would wait for first light to try any kind of surgical procedure, or maybe Reynold would be over. He lived a couple of hours away, and that would mean a vet bill as well.

The next morning I woke to the sound of my father entering the house with the declaration that he had performed the surgery on his own. Babe, as we called him, is all sewed up. He has been neutered, and a metal plate has been placed in the bottom of his tummy to keep his insides in. He had a stomach hernia, but the gelding was up and moving around. Hooray, I had my gelding that would be my riding horse for life.

We sat down to lunch, and Dad filled us in with a few of the details that he wasn't willing to talk about the night before. He had only payed $25 for the colt. My Dad along with one of the line crew had layed the colt in the horse trailer and secured him with rags and ropes to keep him from moving and doing more damage. When he talked to Reynold he gave him the information he needed to fix the colt up. It would probably be smart to neuter him. Reynold mentioned that they usually stitch up the hernia and put in something to support the stitches while it heals. Dad opted for the metal plate. Now it was a matter of wait and see. He was vulnerable to other horses pulling at his incision, or even himself. Also, infections. Dad had introduced a foreign material to the horses body. There was no way of knowing if this colt would survive.

A lot of work ensued. The next year was a constant check to see if the horse was surviving, or even more so thriving. He was weaned from his mom about a week too soon, so that was a factor as well. He was thriving. He got a lot of attention that first couple of years. He was on a halter and lead early, and he was used to the human attention. I couldn't wait until he was ready for the show ring. As a yearling I took him to the first horse show. I showed him on halter, we got a blue ribbon. That was good, but I was hopeful that next year would be a purple ribbon.

I loved this horse. It was simple. He belonged to me. Babe and I practiced for Western Pleasure, and halter for the next year. I decided that before the show I would take him to the local centennial parade in our hometown. I was already committed to playing in the marching band, but I could still bring up the rear on Babe on horseback. After all the marching band went first. There was plenty of time to change clothes and ride my beautiful Babe in the parade.

He was two years old, he was so nervous about all the people, and things. He held his head up proud. He made me feel like I was riding a graceful Lepazaner Stallion at a fancy horse show. I held him back. He wanted to leap right back to the farm with his other horse buddies. My mother took a picture of us. It was incredible the way he held himself. He would naturally cross over his legs and look like he was performing dressage.

After the parade, my dad and I had decided that Babe needed some formal training which we sent him for six weeks. The report came back that he was a natural for reining. He would stop on a dime, and pivot on his haunches.

Looking back the thing that needed training was me. I had this gifted horse, and his spiritedness challenged my every move and thought. The next horse show I would take Chico, she was more evenly tempered. Again I received a blue ribbon. Chico would not let me trim her ears, and I refused to fight with her. That was the only reason I didn't get a purple the judge told me.

Babe was thriving at that point. We registered him through the AQHA, and his registered name was Reno Coteau. Coteau being the region he came from the Coteau Hills. I was starting to gain more interest in school activities, and there was less time for riding. Babe was still my horse and we went for lots of rides during the summer when school was out. But, I had other life ambitions.

In the fall of 1984, it was time to head to college. There was no more time for riding. It was about school, and summer jobs now. In the fall of my sophomore year my Dad sold Reno. It wasn't good for a gelding to not be "working" all the time, he would say. I never said goodbye to Babe. I asked Dad for information about who he had sold it to, nothing. I had vowed to buy him back when I had the money and a place for him to live.

Life went on. I graduated college, moved farther away to the state of Missouri(Misery, which was what it was to me.) I hung on to my dream, endured hardships, and dreamed of riding again.

I had become a city girl on the outside, but seriously you can never take the country out of a country girl. Every horse I saw reminded me of Babe. I particularly noticed the sorrel horses that had similar markings on them.

Eventually, I had to let the dream go. I was in my forties. Certainly, he was long gone now. Horses don't live much past twenty-five.

A couple of months ago, I got a call from my sister. The therapeutic riding center where her daughter rides has a horse they received that looks like Reno, and the horse is called Reno. Could he be my horse from my youth? I wanted it to be true. I was delighted with the idea that he could still be alive. He would be thirty to thirty-three years old by now.

I made arrangements to go back to see the horse. There before my eyes is an old man of a horse. I'm analyzing his conformation. Two white socks, all white hooves, star and stripe on his head. I don't remember that small white spot on his ear. He was always head shy, but not anymore. The cannon's on his legs are higher up then the average horse just like I remember on Babe. His facial line is deeper then I remember, and he is so skinny. He is not as big a horse as I remember. I doubted this was Reno. I wanted to take a picture of his belly. He had a scar from his surgery, and the metal plate made his tummy the hardest thing about him. The picture didn't turn out that good, and I wanted to compare it to another horses belly. More doubt, more investigation was necessary. The belly was certainly hard by touching it. It certainly could be Reno, but I wanted certainty.

That night we had arranged to see Clay Walker in concert. It was a fabulous concert, with lots of joyous moments. Clay was celebrating his Birthday. At one point I found tears dripping down my face. Nearly eight hours earlier I had seen my horse from my youth, we had pulled him back from the brink of death. Babe would not let my dream die. He would let me visit him every day that week, always being near the front of the pasture where I could pet him. I brought him alfalfa tabs, and he waited for me every morning. He came to me when I called him Babe, and he nudged me on my left side just like he always did.

Yes, there is room for doubt. I continue to search for his registration papers to confirm that he was owned by my father when he was initially registered. We have tried to get into contact with the present owner but no return call has come. She gave him to the center because she had run out of money and hay. I fear that she will not return our calls because of guilt, and fear. I just want her to know that it was a good decision to give him up.

Reno will spend the rest of his life at the therapy center according to the therapy center manager. He will be "working" as a therapy horse. So far they use him for a "walker". The children do exercises on his back while he keeps a steady pace around the arena. He still needs to go through some testing before he is certified for students to ride. My niece is ambitiously hoping that she will get to ride Reno during her riding lessons.

My mother says I willed this to happen. I say it was Reno that willed it. Or, maybe it was my Grandparents wishes from heaven. That we continue to love the country and the animals that they loved and connected with in their own youth.

My Grandparents left a legacy - the farm. They also instilled in all of us a pioneer philosophy. Conservation of the land, love of life, and a priority for survival of all men.

Monday, August 2, 2010

Stella Ripple Afghan Pattern

In honor of my Grandma who made me my Sunny Ripple Afghan 30 some years ago. Here is my interpretation of the pattern in crochet.

Crochet hook size G
Several colors of soft 4 ply worsted yarn (about 20 oz yarn total)

Baby Sized - Chain 152

ROW 1: 2 sc into 2nd ch from the hook. *Sc into next 10 ch, skip 2, sc into each of next 10 chs, 3 sc into next ch, repeat from * 8 more times. Sc in next 10 ch, skip 2, sc in next 10 ch, 2 sc in last ch. Ch 1, turn. (RIGHT SIDE)
Row 2: from now on sc in the back loop of each stitch. 2 sc in first sc, *sc in each of next 10 sc, skip 2 sc, sc in next 10 sc, 3 sc in next sc (which should be the middle of the 3 sc of row 1). Repeat from * 8 more times. Then sc in next 10 sc, skip 2, sc in next 10 sc, 2 sc in last sc, ch 1 and turn. Repeat row 2 for the entire afghan.
Repeat Row 2 throughout. Finished blanket should measure about 4' long or desired length. Change colors after every 4 rows or so. This is a very flexible pattern.
I have seen ripples with color changes mid-row.... just depends on the look you want.

Thursday, July 29, 2010

Stella crochets.



This blog today is dedicated to my grandma's favorite hobby, Crochet.
I picked up crochet from my mother, and my grandmother. I can't say they taught me, but they let me watch them crochet. My grandma was a pencil crocheter where the needle goes up from the hand when you crochet. I ended up being a knife crocheter where the the needle goes down through your palm. My mother bought my sister and I a collection of books which I refer to as the "Golden Books". It was full of great explanations of the stitches. It had patterns, and colored photos. Probably the equivalent of watching You Tube videos today.
My first project ever was a huge Granny Square. Did you know that you can crochet a granny square indefinitely? I just kept going around and around. It was the 70's and it kept going "around and around" in beautiful orange and brown variegated yarn. It was very dated. Not sure what happened to that piece.
Grandma made beautiful afghans. She liked to do "Mile-a-Minute" patterns. There is great joy in completing a project. I can think of a least two afghans I still have that my Grandma made me. I have a purple and green "Mile-a-minute" that she made me maybe ten years ago. I also have a sunny yellow ripple afghan that she made me when I was in high school. Do I dare say it was the late 70's, early 80's?
The Stella Ripple afghan is a pattern I put together for my Grandma just a couple of years ago. The original ripple pattern had been passed among friends in the little town we all grew up in. It needed to be drafted to paper before the simple combination faded into the earth with all those crafty ladies.

Here is my latest pattern for a Square to hold button "chocolates".


Chocolate Box Crochet by Melinda Miller

MC
41 chains.
Row 1: dc across.
Row 2: In second chain from hook: 2dc, fpdc, 6dcfive times, fpdc, 2dc, ch & turn.
Row 3: 2dc, bpdc, 6 dcfive times, bpdc, 2dc, ch & turn.
Row 4: repeat row 2
Row 5: working in front loop only in dc, repeat row 3.
Row 6-9: Repeat rows 2-5.
Row 10-13 Repeat rows 2-5.
Row 14-17 Repeat rows 2-5.
Row 18-21 Repeat rows 2-5. Fasten off.

Overlay with CC: In the loops remaining in row 5, 9,13,& 17 sc across. Tuck in ends.
Trim in CC with sc around. Three sc in corners.

Copyright 2010 by Melinda Miller

Saturday, July 17, 2010

Stella continued

The first great tragedy Stella had to suffer in her life was the lose of her brother Willie. Willie was 19 years old when he died of pneumonia, about 1920. Penicillin would not be discovered for another eight years. It would not be readily available until 1945. Willie had gone to a local gym to play basketball. He left the gym with a wet head making his immune system weak and susceptible to disease. Willie had everything to look forward to in life. He was engaged to be married to his sweetheart. He left many hearts broken the day he left this earth. The remainder of Stella's life she would talk fondly of her brother. One of those rules my grandmother Stella lived by would be "let bygones be bygones". She didn't talk much about tragedies of the past. The people who had gone by were exactly that. We should live for the here and now, she would say. I like to believe all that is true, but I like to throw in the rule that we should remember the past lest we repeat it. I want to remember the past. I want to not repeat the lessons others have learned before me.
Stella finished high school in Ashton. She and her parents had moved to a farm closer to Mellette. Garrett was share cropping now. Stella was looking forward to finding a job. Northwestern Bell had opened a new phone office in Mellette and they were looking for phone operators. She took the job. She also took a boyfriend, Louis. Louis was a Mellete boy, very handsome, a wild child. Stella's parents didn't approve of this character she had connected to. Louis' mother and father were divorced. His mother had moved to Minnesota, and his father had taken a new wife. He was being raised by the village who were keeping an eye on him for their own sake as much as for him. The Arthur's took him in on occassion. The Howard's on the east end of town looked after him some too. Louis was good with animals, the farmers liked to hire him to help with weeding of the herds. He got involved in some of the local cattle drives too. He was a teenager. He could look after himself. It was the late twenties early thirties. He could run some moonshine around the county, he was good at evading the sheriff. He made good money doing that. He was determined not to work with his brothers who wanted to take over their father's butcher shop. He would take on his own adventure. He decided electrician. He didn't mind high spots. He went out on the trucks to fix high wires all over the country. It made him good money. He wanted to make an honest women out of Stella, make her parents like him, and he mostly wanted a farm. He wanted a farm with his own horses more then anything in the whole wind world.
One night he went on a moonshine run. Everything was typical the pickup went smooth. He did the drop off successfully, but the sheriff saw him. Louis jumped in the car and high tailed it to the Howard's barn. He lost the sheriff long enough to store the car in the barn. He casually walked from the barn, but the sheriff saw him. The sheriff and him were now on foot. Louis dashed to the phone building where Stella was working. He was hoping the sheriff hadn't seen him.
"Stella hide me. The sheriff is chasing me . . . He just saw me leaving my drop." he said.
Quick thinking Stella told Louis to hide under her petticoat, he did. The Sheriff entered the building.
" Stella have you seen that young O'Donnell boy in here?"
"Why no officer, not in here." Stella said innocently, grabbing the next call to the party line.
The officer after scanning the room left knowing he could have a talk with boy later.
Louis was right where he wanted to be, wrapped up in the legs of the girl he knew he was going to marry some day.
"When are you done?" said Louis from beneath the skirt.
"Shh, he might come back", hushed Stella. She knew he wouldn't but Louis needed to be put in his place.
Louis and Stella did make a date of it that night, and in the spring of 1935 they were pregnant with my mother. They were not yet married, since Stella's parents didn't exactly approve of Louis. Plus that Louis' family life was complicated. Stella and Louis grabbed a couple of friends for witnesses and headed to the next county in Faulkton SD. They got hitched in May 1935, and Coral arrived in October 1935.
The first eleven years of their married life they lived in a small house on the north side of Mellette. They both worked as hard as they could to earn enough money to buy a farm. They ate food that the neighbors would give them. They raised chickens and ate eggs sometimes three times a day. Louis' new wife turned out to mellow his father. That helped. Louis' father Mike ran the grocery store, and Olive his new wife was more than happy to watch Coral when they needed time to themselves. Stella had her work cut out for her. Louis was ambitious, but also reckless. He still wanted to run moonshine. She had to put an end to that. It did end one night when Louis came home with gun shots all along the car. Louis also liked to drink the stuff way too much as well. Stella decided that the one piece of amunition she had against this wicked evil of alcohol was his reputation. Louis wanted people to like him, it was very important to him. She was vocal to all of Louis' friends whenever he would get out of hand with the alcohol. Eventually, Louis did grow up. The ambition won. In 1946, Stella and Louis bought their farm. They moved to the farm with their two daughters. My mother became the boy of the family since Louis needed help. They worked hard. Eventually Louis bought a couple of real nice quarter horses with blood lines to boot. He was not a rodeo person. He was a horse show kind of person. He took his Chico, & Billy to the horse shows and won many ribbons. Stella's man was a prim and proper cowboy. The hat, the jacket, and the well polished boots.
It was a good life, with good friends. Louis pondered the corn crop, and Stella focused on raising her girls to be proper ladies, proper pioneer ladies just like her mother had done with her. Coral was a tom-boy, and Joy was her little girl. Joy helped her with the house and the farm yard, and Coral was out in the fields helping her Dad.
Before Stella and Louis could blink their eyes their girls were grown up. Coral wanted to go to school in Kansas City, Joy wanted to move to Minneapolis. Another turn and their girls were both married with children of their own living their own lives.

More next time . . .