Half a Century with
Grandma on the Farm

For my grandchildren... Max, Ray, Joan and Rex.

Both of my grandmothers lived on farms and I know very little about farm life in those days and often wished I did. Therefore I am writing down a few things about farm life as I lived it. I will call it "Half a Century with Grandma on the Farm", and it is written especially for my four grandchildren... Max, Ray, Joan and Rex.

I was born November 15, 1890 on a farm southeast of Stanhope. I was the youngest of four children. At the time of my birth Byrda was 11, Mark nine and Albin seven. We children were born without a doctor in attendance. If I remember correctly, my mother told me in later years a mid wife named Mrs. Onivig helped me into this world. I was a strong healthy baby weighing 10.5 lbs. Having a good start like that is probably the reason I have been blessed with a strong healthy body.

In those early days neighbors were very helpful in every way possible. Not too many years ago I was visiting with a friend, Mrs. Ed Dyvig who was Carrie Johnson before her marriage and she told me she remembered very well the time of my birth as my brothers and sisters came and stayed at the Johnson home during the time I was being born. She said they were all so glad the Careys had a new daughter.

At the time of my birth there was another member of our household, my Aunt Margaret. When Grandmother Whaley died, Aunt Margaret was only six years old so she came to live in our home before any of us children were born. She remained with us until she was married to Chester Hill and moved into a home of her own. We always thought of her as our oldest sister and I'm sure my parents were more like real parents to her than her lawful parents.

I remember nothing of my first home as my parents sold that farm to B.K. Lund when I was two years old, and moved to their new home out on the prairie as they called it then. This house was built mostly in the wintertime and there was no basement. There was a rather small dark hole in the ground where we always kept our potatoes and other garden vegetables. It was called the cellar way. Along the north side of this room the flooring stopped and we could drop down into this dark hole. I was always afraid to go down there.

This served our family for many years and not until after I was married (around 1911) was an addition added to our house on the north side which had a nice lighted basement with drainage and a smooth cement floor. When the basement was dug, stubs of corn stalks could be seen under the house. These were there when the house was built in the winter of 1891-92. My parents retired from the farm in 1912, and moved to 620 Bank Street in Webster City.

My brother Albin who had married Louise Berven in 1912 took over the farming. I am not sure how long they lived there but I know their daughter Alice and son Ronald were born there. From there Albin and Louise moved to Ames and I believe Van Read and his wife Jennie lived there. I believe the next renter was Ben and Ollie Klaver, then the Ed Baldus family. Van and Jennie lived there in March 1935 when their son Jimmie died from pneumonia. In 1936 when my parent's estate was settled this farm was sold to Dr. Minassian of Des Moines for $108 an acre. It is all under cultivation and this land is some of the best in Hamilton County.

My mother was always a very busy woman. We lived on a farm. Besides caring for her family of seven, she took care of a large garden and raised poultry, mostly chickens but sometimes ducks and turkeys. Our cellar was always stocked with home canned meats, fruits and vegetables when winter came, and then on winter days she was always sewing, making rugs or piecing quilts.

In thinking back over the years I believe the draining of the ponds and slough of the prairie in Hamilton County, especially southwest of Kamrar, was a historic event. I knew it would take away all the beautiful wild flowers and furry animals I enjoyed so much. I will start my story a few years before this drainage took place.

In 1891, my parents bought 240 acres of land about five miles southwest of Kamrar for $12.50 an acre. In the winter of 1891-92 they built a house out there and March 1, 1892 we moved there. I was two years old at that time and have no memories of those first years "on the prairie" as they always spoke of our new home. My brothers and sister were seven, nine, and eleven years old when I was born, and I practically grew up with no one to play with. During these years I acquired a great love for wild flowers and all the wonders of this beloved prairie.

Before this land was drained, these ponds and sloughs provided the source of good hunting and trapping. One of my brothers enjoyed hunting and trapping and he also liked our wet prairie land. I remember I learned the different kinds of ducks from the game he brought home. Sometimes he would bring home a wild goose to roast. It was really a treat from our home cured meats. Mother used to roast these birds and make sage dressing and I will always remember the wonderful aroma that filled the house when they were taken from the oven.

Feathers from ducks and geese were always saved. I remember when picking them, the coarse feathers from wings and tail were removed first, and thrown away except goose feathers. With geese the end of the wing up to the first joint was removed and hung up to dry. These feathers attached to that bit of bone were very useful on cleaning days especially in cleaning out ashes from the stoves. Feathers were spread out on papers to dry (lots of time behind the cook stove or under that stove). When dry they were stored in paper sacks and hung in some out of the way place until they were used for pillows or feather beds. Almost everyone had at least one feather bed in those days.

My brother made a trap to catch prairie chickens. It was made of lath in a rectangular shape with all sides sloping in so it wouldn't tip over. The top was two shingles hinged in the center and covered the entire top of the trap. Somehow a sharpened stick was fastened in the center of those shingles and an ear of corn was put on it. When the prairie chicken saw this corn, he would light on this trap, and the loose shingles would let him drop inside and then they would spring back into place.

I learned the different species of ducks and geese as he brought them home. My mother always favored the Mallard. They were a meaty type bird. A goose of any kind was always something special. I remember once my brother came home with a bird that was about all neck and legs. He carried it by the head and it was hanging down his back, the feet nearly touching the ground. It must have been a crane of some sort. This brother was quite lucky at trapping too. There was a small stream somewhere in the back part of the farm where he caught mink. He also trapped muskrats and skunks. He skinned these animals and sold the pelts.

One time he had skinned several skunks and found a lot of fat on those carcasses. He told my mother we should render out that fat as he had read that skunk oil was good to rub on our throat and chest in case of sore throat and colds. Mother found an old pan that was to be thrown away and proceeded to render out this skunk fat. It smelled to high heaven, and as soon as she considered it finished she hurried that pan outdoors and set it on the ground to cool. Then she opened all doors and windows and burned some rags to try to get that smell out of the house. A short time later my brother came in and said, "I don't think Moll will ever have a sore throat or cold. He just finished lapping up the skunk oil". Moll was a curly haired black dog that belonged to my grandfather who was staying at our house at that time.

I remember once he brought home some baby skunks. A mother cat with kittens accepted those skunks as part of her family. She washed them and nursed them right along with her kittens. I never knew what became of those baby skunks, but I am sure my mother insisted that my brothers get rid of them.

There were many ponds and sloughs on our farm at that time. Whenever we would drive about 2 miles west of our place, we always had to drive on high ground out around the buildings on Marcus Christenson's farm as most of the time the road there was under water. I remember my father saying he was tired of farming around all those wet acres and he was going to tile it all out. Very large tile were laid in the creek that ran through the farm and smaller tile were laid from this to all the sloughs and ponds. There were no ditching machines in those days. Work of that sort was done by men with spades, and it seemed we had extra men there all summer. There must have been six men and we had to furnish room and board for them. It seemed like we had beds all over the place. My mother had a hired girl to help with all that extra work. That is the only time I can remember my mother having hired help with household duties.

When all was finished my father was well pleased with this work. The water finally drained out to a small ditch or ravine in the pasture. This water came through a large tile and a cement wall or dam was built up above this tile and cement was pored around where it emptied out so a mud hole wouldn't be made there. Father said this would always provide water for livestock.

No one had much money in those days and neighbors helped each other in many ways. The story I am about to tell took place shortly after my father and mother were married, which was in 1875. My mother told me this story when I was about 12 or 13 years old. I have always remembered it as it illustrates so well the great compassion she always had for anyone in need. She was about 20 years old at this time. She had helped her own mother in like occasions so was well qualified to do the things she did. My parents had moved to a farm southwest of Stanhope after their marriage to what was known as the Lake Center neighborhood. In those days, when any need arose, neighbors helped each other.

My mother always went to help "lay out the dead". On this occasion a man in his early forties had died leaving a wife and some small children practically penniless. There was no embalming then, so after washing the body, my mother packed a generous amount of salt around the lower part of the body, then pinned a diaper of closely woven material firmly in place. After mother and other neighbors had the body ready for burial, they looked for clothing. Someone brought mother a piece of new material about 1 square yard and said, "Make something out of this". Mother said she looked at that material for some time and then asked an older lady what to do with it. This lady said make the front of a shirt and put a collar on it. This mother did, and nothing else was brought forth to put on that body, so mother sent a note home for Aunt Margaret to go to the drawer where bedding was kept and send back a sheet. This was wrapped around that body. Caskets were mostly homemade at that time, and a small square of glass was placed so only the face could be viewed.

At the first funeral I remember attending, a casket of this type was used. This old gentleman, who was our close neighbor, had made his own casket and it had been stored away in an upstairs room for some time.

We would drive to Webster City about once a month. Two horses were hitched to the spring wagon. This was a very light wagon with two seats. There was no cover or top on it. I remember I would sit in the front seat between my father and mother, and part of this time father let me drive with the end of the lines. At that time I thought that was wonderful. When we crossed the river bridge I always had a fear my hat would blow off into the river and I held on to that hat with both hands. We would leave the horses and wagon at the livery barn (Located about where the Church of Christ built in Webster City) then we would go up to the Farmer's restaurant for dinner. (Located near the present Price's shoe store). The afternoon was spent shopping and about four o'clock we would start that long drive back home. As I grew older, and more trains were running, we would drive to Kamrar and go by train to Webster City about 11 o'clock and come back to Kamrar about four. There was also a train about 10 at night in case we missed the earlier one.

I lived in the "home on the prairie" until I was married. My brothers and my sister were so much older than I, and I grew up pretty much alone. I believe these years were when I developed my great love for nature study. I walked the quarter mile to school morning and evening and I will always remember the lovely flowers and plants along that road.

Roads were not graded in those days and along either side of the traveled path was virgin sod. If the ruts from the wagon wheels became too deep, the driver would simply move either to the right or left and start a new road. These roads might wander off in most any direction to stay on dry land and keep from getting mired down in some slough.

I especially loved the pasque flowers I found in early spring. I didn't know the name pasque flowers and gave these beautiful flowers the name of daffy down dillies. I picked many bouquets for my mother on my way home from school during those years, and I well remember she would put them in a cup with flowers on the side of it and then set the cup in a matching saucer.

There was a creek just a short distance west of our house and I remember blue flags grew there. This creek curved around in our field and back toward the road leaving a small bit of high ground about a quarter of an acre about a half mile west that was too small to cultivate and here were many kinds of wild flowers. My father always said this small piece of ground was surrounded by water and he just couldn't get to it to plant anything.

Yes, I had a happy childhood exploring the wonders of nature. I remember many friends from those days at country school. The Sonerholms, Bervens, Monsons, Martins, Christensons, Mortensons and many more. Girls of the neighborhood about my age as I was growing up were Tillie Monsen, Rachel Martin, Jennie Humble and Clara and Louise Berven. (In later years Louise became my sister in law when she married my brother Albin). It was a great treat for us to visit in each other's homes and sometimes stay all night. Many times I went with some of these girls when they drove a horse hitched to a top buggy to Jewell. They went there for their confirmation lessons. They called it, "Reading for the Preacher." Quite often Reverand C.J. Eastvold would take us girls home with him for dinner. He had a large family and we always enjoyed going there.

I believe I remember the Martin family the best. They lived just a quarter mile east of us and I always walked home from school with them. It seems I usually started to school a little early in the mornings and most generally made that walk alone. The children in the Martin family were Martha, Mae, Minnie, Rachel, Will, Ira and Ben.

Rachel was just nine days younger than I and we spent many happy hours playing together. Since I had no one to play with, I often asked my mother if I could go to the Martins and play with Rachel or if she could come to our house. Rachel's mother always made me very welcome. There was a large tree with wide spreading limbs close by their kitchen door and in this tree was a tree house. From there we could step out on the roof of a summer kitchen. There was also a nice hayloft in the barn where we played if weather was bad.

In later years I often wondered where all those Martin children slept. Their house was small and had just one large square room and a lean-to kitchen along one side. I don't remember ever seeing a stairway in that one large room. I do remember a ladder always stood on the east side of the house, and there was a small window above it. The attic of that house must have been fixed up for sleeping quarters. I remember the Martins had a horse named Rocky that we enjoyed riding, and a brown dog named Major and a small black and white dog named Keno. Martha, the oldest of the Martin children, had a badly crippled hand and always wore a glove on that hand when she was away from home. The story goes that when a baby she was sitting in a high chair and that chair tipped over and her hand rested on top of a hot stove and was burned badly.

The Martins sold that farm and moved away when I was nine years old. They moved to a farm near Fontanelle, Iowa, and I lost contact with them for many years. In recent years I have been corresponding with Rachel and we enjoy remembering many interesting things about our childhood days. She is a widow and lives alone on her farm and has 2 married children living close by.

The main thing I remember about the Martenson family is that the children were all boys-James, Lars, Melenius, Thorval and Morton. Melemius was a strong husky built boy and in school we called him Moline Wagon. All of those boys missed a lot of school, especially Morton who was a slight built blonde boy who was sick a great deal of the time. The Mortenson farm was later purchased by Grandfather Hendrickson and is now owned by me.

Church and Sunday School was held at a country school house, and I believe here at Sunday School was where I first knew Ray Hendrickson, the man I later married. I don't remember ever being introduced to him. I guess we were just both there as children. I remember when Marion, Ray's youngest brother was a baby, we little girls used to enjoy holding him and taking care of him. I remember he wore a beautiful white dress with hand crocheted lace on it. Marion is 10 years younger than I, so that would make me about 10 years old at that time.

This congregation which held church and Sunday School at the Hamilton Center School house was composed of Norwegian Lutherans. When I was about 10 years old they built a church one mile south of this school house. It was called the Zion Lutheran Church. I continued to go to church and Sunday School there. They now had an organ and I went there many times to attend choir practice. I always enjoyed singing and remember they had small song books (about four by six inches) with the words of the songs printed in Norwegian (no music). I learned to pronounce those words and always sang along with the others although I didn't know what I was singing, unless it was an old familiar hymn. Some of the older men usually led in prayer. I remember Jake Obe always prayed in Norwegian but Grandfather Hendrickson and Goodman Wing always used English. I might add that the Zion Lutheran Church has been long gone. The building was moved away and the acres of ground are back to the farm that donated them.

As I grew older I remember many times the young people of the Sunday School and church were invited to the Hendrickson home for dinner and to spend the afternoon. It must have been a lot of work for Grandmother Hendrickson to always have plenty of good substantial food ready for this crowd of hungry young people. She had nine children of her own to cook for and always one or two hired men. Two things I will always remember was her extra good home made bread and also the fried cakes. She never called them doughnuts. She cut the dough into strips and twisted it into a figure eight. I imagine she could make them faster that way. Many times I have seen her bring out a big dishpan piled with those fried cakes. She baked all their bread and that meant 10 or 20 big loaves two or three times a week. I remember one day after I became her daughter in law telling her that maybe when I had baked as much bread as she that maybe mine would be as good as hers and she answered, "No matter how long you live, you will never bake as much bread as I have".

There was very little packaged or ready prepared food in those days. Almost everyone churned their own butter, raised their own vegetables and butchered their own meats. Chicken was used a lot. It could be prepared in a hurry, especially if unexpected company came. And that was the kind of company that often came at that time.

There were no telephones. I can remember the first time I talked on one. My parents had been talking a lot about this wonderful telephone soon to be installed. I came home from school one day and the phone was on the wall and was ringing. My folks were not at home but they had talked about how to take down the receiver and say, " Hello". As I came in the house and heard that ringing I rushed to the phone and said, "Hello". Someone answered me and said, "Who is this?" I was too scared to answer so just stood there and listened!

Note* Further Installments to come:
Farm animals called pigs, hogs, swine or porkers and often names a little more forceful.
The old Gander
Oat Stacks
Grandmother's memories & Philosophies
The first automobile
Animal Arguments
A Little Black Shetland Pony named Starlight