KEITH MARTIN
THE BEGINNING
If my father expected a bouncing baby boy on October 28, 1920, he was badly mistaken, for I wasn't due to be born until February 1, 1921. According to the account written by my mother she became very sick about 4:30 P.M.
She then phoned her mother and father who lived in Bagley, about seven miles away. They arrived as soon as they could, which by today's standards would have been slow. They had a single seated Model_T Ford that had an average speed of about 20 miles an hour. The Model_T Ford used a hand crank to start, had a hand gas lever, and three pedals on the floor__low/high (low was down and high was up), brake, and the other for reverse. There were two speeds, slow and faster. When the car pulled down on an incline or a hill, the low pedal would be pushed down and the Model_T Ford would crawl to the top of the hill. Bagley, being located in a river bottom, and Blake's Prairie, at a much higher elevation, made for a slow trip.
When they arrived and surveyed the situation, Grandfather went out into the corn field where my father was picking corn by hand. This was done by throwing each individual ear into a horse drawn wagon. When my father arrived at
the house, which was a short distance away, he called the doctor. Phone service in those days was crude compared with the elaborate phone system of today. The operator, or central, as she was called played an intricate part in the whole operation. To call the doctor Dad gave one ring by turning the crank on the side of the phone. Central answered and he said, "I would like to talk to Doctor Lewis." She connected him with the Doctor who was told the problem. Knowing my father, he probably wasn't in a great hurry. Each farmer had his own individual ring. Ours happened to be two short rings. If you wanted to find out what your neighbor was doing you would listen in when his combination rang on the line. The service was distributed through the country by wires attached to large telephone poles placed on the road side banks.
The doctor arrived from Bloomington in about an hour by horse and buggy. By that time, I was already there, which was no problem since Grandmother Harris was an old hand with childbirth. Dr. Lewis studied my condition and said, "He won't make it anyway." He pulled an old string from his pocket and tied off the umbilical cord. Grandma Harris was curious to see how much I weighed, so put me in a tiny blanket and got the hook scale that was used to weigh meat. She found that my hanging weight was a heathy two pounds, blanket and all.
Here they were with an awesome responsibility. Grandma took off her wedding ring, and put it over my hand up to my elbow. I would have fit in a cigar box. An incubator was out of the question for the nearest one was one_hundred miles away in Madison. I was a small piece of humanity with a head like a jelly ball, no finger nails, no eye lashes or eye brows, a dark red body with fingers like the paws of a squirrel and totally dependent on them for survival.
The house was not warm, so they decided they needed more heat from the pot bellied stove in the living room. Dad drove to Bagley in the Model_T Ford truck to pick up coal. Under ordinary circumstances they would have burned wood. The living room and bedroom where I was born were the warmest rooms in the house. The kitchen had no basement.
In spite of the doctors prediction, they were determined that I would live, and decided that the best place for me to sleep was on a hot water bottle. This was to be my residence for many days to come. They kept a tea kettle of water heating on the pot bellied stove, and when the water bottle felt cool they would replenish it with the heated water. This had to be done 24 hours a day until they thought I had passed the crisis.
Clothing was also a problem. What do you put on a baby that small? They tore an average size diaper into four pieces which made them the size of an average man's handkerchief. Dad went to the general store and bought some doll kimonos. Grandmother made some tiny shirts, and I had the start of a wardrobe. My crib was Ma's childhood rocking chair that was given to her when she was three years old.
Feeding was also a problem, and had to be done with an eye dropper. The only indication that I was hungry was to observe my change in movement, because I did not have the strength to cry. They saw an ad in Good Housekeeping Magazine about a book on baby food, ordered it, and from this arrived at the formula that I was fed. The formula consisted of water boiled with slack lime (or calcium hydroxide__a soft white powder Ca(OH) 2 used in making mortar and cement), strained, and mixed with sugar of milk (or lactose__made from whey and used in infant foods, bakery products and confections).
About a week after I was born I had what they thought were
convulsions. I shook and a foamy substance came out of my mouth. This occurred between 7:00 AM and 9:00 AM for about 5 days. When this would happen, Grandmother would take me out to the cook stove, open the oven door, hold me where it was warm, and rub my tiny body until it was over. She would then take me back to mother. It was customary then for the mother to stay in bed for about 10 days after the baby was born. The doctor was not of much assistance with their problems in raising such a little one, for he was much of the opinion that they were fighting a losing battle. The bathing was done with olive oil carefully applied with cotton. When I reached the age of one week, I weighed 1_3/4 pounds.
I was unable to be moved from the house for several weeks, but after this crucial period, we were able to venture out. My first trip away from home was to visit my Great Grandmother Harris (mother of Carrie) who lived in Bagley. I imagine they were anxious to show off their accomplishment. Her comment was, "God Bless you for you are so tiny. We hope God will spare you."
My first bath in water was at the age of 3 months, but they still continued to use olive oil. At this time I also had my first venture into the social swing of this rural area which was a neighborhood card party. The neighbor having the party lived across the field, and since it was winter my family decided to walk and carry me on my pillow covered with many blankets. My Uncle Richard's account of the story implied that he had to do more than his share of the carrying. After I arrived at the party I was placed on the dresser where there would be no danger of covering me with other coats.
At the age of 1_1/2 years, I became hard to get along with. My folks decided that I needed a change in the milk formula. After a great deal of difficulty they arrived at a formula that would keep me quiet. It consisted of raw cow's milk, and sugar of milk greatly diluted with lime water. When I started to walk with a decided limp, they found that my right leg was smaller than the left. Being very concerned about this situation, they took me to Dr. Baldwin who had now replaced Dr. Lewis. Dr. Baldwin was surprised that I had lived this long and said that my leg difficulty was probably caused by polio or a birth defect. This physical imperfection was later to play a big part in my life.
When I was about 4 years old, brother Kenneth came along. Since childbirth took place in the home, I was shuttled off to spend a few days with my Grandpa Harris. Grandma would again be called upon to help with a newborn baby. When I returned home, I found much to my surprise that I had a baby brother - a lively healthy little boy. This must have been a real relief for my parents after raising a premature child.
After Kenneth's birth, we had a live-in hired girl to help Ma with the housework, to care for the newborn baby, and to help with the many domestic chores. Drinking water was carried to the little house from the farm buildings located about 1/4 mile away. Water used for washing and bathing was taken from the cistern. This was rain water that ran off of the roof. Water was taken out of the cistern by turning a crank that moved buckets attached to a chain, that would deliver water to the surface. Wood had to be carried in from a pile about 30 feet away from the house. Clothes were washed either on a scrub board or by a hand-cranked washing machine.
It was here that I first learned an important lesson, that the mother knows more than the child. When the washing machine was not in use, it was stored on our screened front porch. On a cold winter day, I was well clothed with my mittens on, and cranking away on the machine. Ma came out and said, "Keith, quit playing with that washing machine. You can get your finger cut off!" As she closed the door, I thought, "I will give it a couple more turns." As quick as a flash, my mitten was caught in the cogs and I went in the house screaming. Ma pulled off the mitten to find a bloody mangled finger. The scarred finger has been a vivid reminder that "Mother knows best". Through the years I have used this to illustrate to our children and grandchildren what can happen when you think you know more than your parents.
Daily life was a simple matter of providing essentials by whatever means were available to us. We very seldom ate bread that was bought in the store. Most of it was homemade once or twice a week. It was great while it was fresh, but after a few days it got mighty stale. Potatoes were home grown and stored in a bin in the basement. During the cold part of the year, several hogs and a beef were butchered. The lard from the hogs was rendered and stored in crocks for summer use. Sausage was fried down, and a portion of it would be stored in the lard. The hams, shoulders, and bacon would be cured in a salt brine, and then taken to the smokehouse. After they were smoked, they would be wrapped in paper, and put in a large box in the store room where each piece was covered with oats. Here they would be kept into the summer. When they were taken out to be used, the mold would be cut off, but the remaining meat would be very tasty - salty, but good.
The winter months brought with them hardy appetites, and an abundance of fresh meat that was stored on the screened porch away from the cats and dogs. Dad did some squirrel hunting which added to the meat supply. Ma was very good at cooking this wild game, so they were a real treat. There was always an ample supply of fresh eggs because we kept a flock of about 125 laying hens, along with a supply of roosters that could be butchered for a Sunday dinner. If we were to have guests, Dad would have to chop the chicken's head off because Ma couldn't seem to handle that messy detail. Scalding the beheaded chicken in hot water to remove the feathers and doing the rest of the cleaning, however, was no problem to her. Because there was no refrigeration, the chicken was cooled in repeated changes of well water, and was then ready for the frying pan. Young fryer chickens in the spring of the year were a big treat, but the old hens and roosters were mighty tough eating. To this day many of my generation will not eat chicken. They had to eat too much of it during the depression.
All of this activity centered around our little farm house, which was a very pleasant place to live in the summer with its screened porches and vines providing shade from the sun. During this time of year, most of our meals were eaten on the porch. The breezes flowed freely through the house, but during the intense heat of the summer, we moved our mattresses out and slept under the stars. Summer also brought storms which our mother dreaded and probably with some cause, because the little house was struck by lightning several times. Security from intruders was not one of our concerns. Locking our house up consisted of hooking the screen doors at night. During the warm part of the year, we were able to take our weekly Saturday night bath in the tub that Ma used for washing clothes. The water was heated on the stove and poured into the tub. The youngest child went first with the parents being the last to take the plunge.
The winter months were not quite so pleasant. At times in the winter, our old house was mighty cold. The cook stove and pipeless furnace heated well after they were going, but during the night there was no fire and consequently, no heat. Our drinking water would freeze in the bucket. To keep warm we wore long underwear and sweaters to bed and snuggled down into a feather bed with warm blankets and comforters.
SCHOOL DAYS
My parents delayed sending me to school as long as they could because they believed that I was too small to walk the mile to the little Red School House.
During the year that I was to be seven years old, I would be the first of the fourth generation of Martins to attend the historic Red School. My teacher, Alma Fisher, was a good teacher, but I also had the misfortune of having her room and board at our house. I suppose my parents engineered this so I wouldn't have to be walking to school by myself. Miss Fisher left for school at about 7:30 AM as she had to build the fire in the furnace and get the activities started for the day. I found that if I pretended to be sick I wouldn't have to go to school. I was able to work that play quite often. This didn't enhance my education, but since I was the only one in my grade I didn't fall far behind the competition. The average attendance for our one room rural school was about 12. All of the children walked to school. Driving us in a car was never considered. We were always well prepared for the walk and protected from the elements, wearing scarves, boots, and sheep skin coats, which were lined with the heavy fleece of the sheep. With the addition of a wool scarf wrapped over our faces, the winds of Blake's Prairie presented no problem.
The school facilities were far from elaborate, and provided fewer comforts than our homes. There was no inside plumbing at the school. These necessities were provided for by two outside toilets placed on opposite sides of the schoolyard - one for the boys and one for the girls. The drinking water was carried from the farm across the road. It was drawn from a hand pump into a bucket and carried to the schoolhouse where it was poured into a crock with a drinking fountain near the bottom. The chore of carrying water was relegated to the older boys of the school.
The teacher had to teach all eight grades, clean the schoolhouse, build the fire, be able to play the piano, and supervise the playground. During the noon hour and recess times we spent our time on the swings, and in playing games that required much running. There were also those personality conflicts that required a good fight to clear the air. If the teacher was competent, and most of them were, the quality of instruction was very good. Since all of the teaching was done in one room, there was a constant review of what was being taught in the lower grades. Many of those in the upper grades would spend time tutoring schoolmates.
The approach of the Christmas season was one to look forward to. We would get a break from studying for about two weeks and concentrate on preparing for the program. There were songs and recitations to be learned, popcorn to be strung for the huge Christmas tree, and a plank stage to be built. The Christmas tree was decorated with real candles in preparation for the big event. On the eve of the performance, the school house was packed with relatives, neighbors, and nervous kids. My first recitation for the school program was indicative of how most of the kids felt. It went as follows: "This big Christmas crowd has scared me to death. I've even forgotten how folks draw their breath. Excuse me if you please I will just take my seat."
As I started my third year in grade school I was no longer walking down that road by myself. Cousin Francis (Fat) Martin and Delbert Brown also began making the trip with me. Knowing those two as I did, I knew that there would be very few dull moments. Delbert had moved to the Red School as an eighth grader because he was giving his widowed mother in Bloomington more of a challenge than she could handle. As a result, he was sent to live with his older brother Clive and his family. I'm not sure that all the stories Delbert told us were the truth, but they were certainly interesting. One fine spring day, Delbert's sister_in_law, Florence Brown, made some delicious sugar candy to be taken to school for a treat. On the way to school Delbert decided to hide the candy in the old willow tree and skip school. When school was over, Delbert was waiting for us at the old willow tree, and the three of us finished off the entire batch of candy.
Fat had a mind for mischief that was hard to surpass. His lunch bucket was getting well worn. His Dad had told him that on this particular day he would go to town and buy him a new one. Fat decided there was no further use for his old lunch pail, so decided to urinate in it, and then proceeded to kick it all the way home. When he got near home he picked it up and walked in the house with it. When I stopped for him the next morning he came out with the same old lunch pail. Surprised, I asked where the new one was and he said, "Dad didn't go to town."
The next year we were joined in our walk to school by my brother Kenneth, Allan (Fat's brother), and Thelma Brown. This class of five first graders was the largest to ever attend the Red School. The next year, the group was joined by cousin Evelyn and Gene Brown. This large group walking back and forth to school together made for a few fights, skirmishes, and you name it. The you name it part I probably shouldn't discuss further. The disciplinary punishment at school was either a spanking or staying after school. It seemed that when we had to stay after school, the others would hurry home so we would have some explaining to do when we got there.
When the spring thaw took place there were swollen streams to be waded. Brother Kenneth took a great liking to this and would come home soaking wet. After the first episode, Ma warned him that if he came home like that again he would be spanked. The next night he came home in the same condition. Upon seeing this Ma was determined to make good her threat and chased him first one way around the house, then the other, but couldn't catch him. They both came in the house with their tongues hanging out and decided to call it a draw. When a spanking was evident we weren't ones to stand around and wait for it. We headed out. This was one of those rare instances when the kid wasn't caught. Ma and Dad were both strong and fast and determined to prevail.
In the spring of the year there were contests among all of the rural schools in the area. These contests involved proficiency in spelling, writing, and arithmetic. Much time was spent drilling for these contests. All students had to participate, and the winners moved on to the county contest. Our local contest was held at the consolidated school. The Palmer Method of penmanship was used, and since I was left handed and wrote upside down, smearing the fresh ink was a problem for me. The pens consisted of a holder with a pen point inserted. This was then dipped into a bottle of ink or an ink well. Being a poor writer, and a worse speller, the arithmetic contest was my only hope. HIGH SCHOOL
High school for me was a real shocker. After having spent eight years as the only one in the class, competition from other students was hard to take. I was very much of the opinion that one of the main reasons for attending high school was to participate in baseball and basketball. This was brought on primarily by my family's enthusiasm for sports. During my sophomore year, I was discouraged with the whole thing because I wasn't becoming the athletic hero I had dreamed of being. Traveling to and from school was also a problem because there were no school buses. My grades slipped badly, and with any kind of encouragement to do so, I would have thrown in the sponge. Quitting high school, however, wasn't a part of the game plan my parents had in mind for me. They would never have agreed to let me drop out, even if I'd had the nerve to bring it up.
These were depression years on the farm, and farm prices were very bad. Opportunities for employment were very scarce, so career planning was difficult. One of my interests during my teenage years was feeding and showing club calves. Dad did much to encourage me in this project because he was of the opinion that the money I made could be used later for a college education. As a result, the bright spot in my academic schedule came to be vocational agriculture. It gave me an opportunity to continue my beef feeding projects, and to participate on judging teams.
My junior year in high school started on a brighter note. Because Fat would now be joining me, our parents decided that a better means of transportation was necessary. The Martin Brothers' farm account bought a 1929 Chevrolet coupe for us to drive to school. This opened up a whole new world and solved a pesky transportation problem. The car had to be cranked by hand, but this posed no problem. Staying after school for any kind of activity was now much easier.
By this time, I had gotten my act together a little better, and decided my alternatives were few. There were six children on the home farm to be raised including Uncle Jay's family, so my chances of getting started in farming were next to nothing. At this point I concluded that I might as well prepare for college and see what would happen. High school kept me very busy with basketball, baseball, forensics, band, chorus, and anything else that came along. Kenneth and Allan started high school in 1938. To accommodate more boys, Dad had to build a canvas enclosure on the back of the 1929 Chevrolet coup. Fat and I, being the senior members of the crew, rode in the front while Kenneth and Allan rode in the back where there was no heater.
Hitler was now in power in Germany, and we had to listen to many of his long speeches during the time we were in study hall. He spoke of how he was going to rule the world, but at our age we didn't pay much attention to what he was saying. Little did we know the dramatic effect he would have on our lives, and the death and sorrow that would follow as a result of this man's ambitions.
The principal of the high school noticed that I walked with a limp, and without my knowledge applied for financial aid from the rehabilitation division of the State Department of Education so that I might continue education after high school. This aid would pay for tuition and books, but I would have to pay for board and room. I finished high school on an up note, and was ready to move on to Platteville Teachers' College.
In 1939, a great event happened in the farm community. The Rural Electrification Act had been passed, and electricity was now being provided to the rural areas. No more kerosene or gas lights! Best of all we could have a refrigerator and an electric stove. These were two of the first items purchased. Prior to this time the only cold milk we had to drink was in the winter after it sat out on the back porch. Through the use of rented lockers, frozen meat also became available. The first frozen food locker in the area was in North Andover, a very small village about 10 miles away. The meat would be cut up, packaged, quick frozen, and placed in lockers where you could store the meat until it was needed. This was the fore_runner to the home freezer.
Our lives were changing with the use of electricity. Cooking had been done on the wood burning kitchen range and on a kerosene stove in the summer. No longer did we need to carry a lamp from one room to the other.
An electric radio could maintain full power at all times__no more fading out from a dead battery. Our main radio station was WLS in Chicago, featuring Lula Bell and Scotty, The Hoosier Hot Shots, and on Saturday nights we listened to the music of "The Barn Dance". Most of the music was of the country_western variety. In addition, we had the programs of "Little Orphan Annie", "The Lone Ranger", "Amos and Andy", "George Burns and Gracie Allen", and of course market reports and sports events. This was also the era of the big bands. Guy Lombardo ("the sweetest music this side of heaven"), Lawrence Welk ("champaign music"), Glen Miller, and Eddie Howard all made the radio in the car an important item for the younger generation.
The automobile had greatly improved from the 1929 Chevrolet we drove to high school. They now had good heaters, rode very comfortably, and had adequate power to get up the hills with cruising speeds up to 50 miles per hour. However, the passenger train still provided for much of the long distance travel. There were good railroad stations at Bagley, Prairie du Chien, Lancaster, and Platteville.
COLLEGE
My venture to college took place the day after the Bloomington Fair. After showing cattle and taking part in other activities at the fair, I was dog tired. We headed off for Platteville where we found a place for me to stay close to the college with a widow lady. She took in boys, providing board and room for the sum of one dollar per day. This was well within my budget. It seemed strange to be away from the family, the farm, and to have no chores. The only responsibility for me was to make the grade in college.
There were no electives in the Agriculture course. If you elected the four year program leading to a Bachelor of Science degree, you followed the prescribed plan of study for the next four years. Chemistry required a lot of time, but the other subjects didn't give me a great deal of trouble. The instructors seemed very good. The college in general had a very friendly atmosphere. I soon realized, however, that after the busy schedule I had in high school with extra activities I was going to be very bored with keeping my nose in the books. I knew what my capabilities in sports were, so quickly checked that possibility off of the list. I had heard the Pioneer Gleemen group sing at our high school, so decided to spend some time singing. This provided an opportunity to develop interesting relationships with other boys and a change of pace from studying.
Platteville Teacher's College had an enrollment of about 700 students, two main buildings, and a school farm. This was primarily a teachers' college, one of the many in the state of Wisconsin. Some of the students came there with no funds and worked their way through school. Some received aid through the National Youth Act designed to help students get through college.
Platteville was what they called a suitcase college since most everyone went home on Friday night, and came back again on Sunday night. We had a carload going from the Bloomington_Bagley area, and our parents took turns transporting us. One Friday night it was Ruth Belmer's turn to provide the transportation home. Joe Belmer sent Max Luber to pick us up. Evidently Max had some time to kill before we were out of school, and had chosen to spend it in the tavern. By the time he arrived to get us he was very much intoxicated, but very confident in his ability to drive. Homer Clark, one of the students from Bagley, volunteered to drive, but managed only to get as far as the front passenger seat. That was the wildest ride I have ever had. The large rocks protruding from the banks on the side of the road looked mighty big at times as he swerved from one side of the road to the other. By the time we got to Lancaster, Homer was able to convince Max that he should be the driver. What a relief I'd live to see my family again.
I first met Al Cummer during our high school days at County 4H Club events. At Platteville College we found ourselves rooming in adjourning houses and became close friends as we were both majoring in vocational agriculture.
After two years at Platteville, Al Cummer and I decided to try a faster league, and made our decision to transfer to the University of Wisconsin at Madison. Al discussed many things at great length, including girls, but that was about as far as it went because neither of us could afford the luxury of dating. It cost about $200 per year to go to Platteville, but the cost at Madison would be about $500 per year. Madison would give us more versatility, and we would probably get a better job after graduation. The competition for jobs was very keen. In the fall of 1941 we decided to make the big jump. Al got a job as a live_in baby sitter for Harry Struhlder's boys. Harry was the head football coach at the University. I don't know what Harry's salary was, but his wife was constantly borrowing money from Al who was at the time working his way through school. I got a small job at an eating co_op washing pots and pans. After scratching and digging, I found that it was important to get on the good side of the cook so she would put water in the pans after they were empty.
We were right in assuming that this would be a faster league. The competition was tougher, the assignments bigger, and they expected 110%. If you didn't put out, you got out by request. No more going home on weekends. We had to burn the midnight oil, and there was no more fooling around. After the first semester we were better adjusted, and decided we had made the right decision.
One busy Sunday afternoon, I was studying poultry and listening to the Bears and the Packers playing football. There was an interruption in the broadcast and the words "The Japanese have attacked Pearl Harbor" came over the air. We were stunned. The students from California were frantic for they thought the Japanese would be invading California at any minute. That night I took a long walk down University Avenue. The snow was falling lightly, but the thoughts going through my mind were very heavy. We would be at war and many lives would be lost. The country was caught by surprise, and we were not prepared to fight on two fronts against the Japanese and the Germans.
THE ARMY
During my school years, the summer months were spent working on the farm, but by September 18, 1942, I found myself headed for Fort Sheridan instead of going back to Madison for my senior year in college. We dropped Doris and Bud off at the Red School House, and continued on to Lancaster where I would board the troop train along with the other inductees from Grant County. The folks and I had a rather quiet ride to Lancaster. All three of us were no doubt uncertain about my future. Although I had been away to college for three years, this absence from the home could have serious consequences. Most of the decisions regarding my life would depend on the progress of the war. It had now been nine months since the Japanese attacked Pearl Harbor. The war in the Pacific was not going well for us, and there was an urgency to get men trained and ready for battle. Perhaps my greatest disappointment was in not being able to finish college. This weighed heavily on my mind.
The train traveled up through Madison, over to Milwaukee, and then on to Fort Sheridan, arriving there at about 2:00 AM. We had picked up inductees all along the way. It had been a long and sorrowful trip. Many of the boys were of the opinion that they would never return to their homes again. I was classified in limited service, which in all probability would mean that I wouldn't be sent out of the country. However with the army, I was aware of the fact that anything could happen. I was given this classification because of a small right leg which had been with me since birth. My marching capabilities were limited, but they needed men to serve in other capacities.
We arrived at Fort Sheridan in a pouring rain that had been in progress for some time. The mud, the rain, and the cold were quite in keeping with the mood of the men. They didn't exactly have the red carpet laid out for us. Some soldier was barking out orders about lining up and marching. About that time we all felt like telling him to shove it. We were herded over to the quartermaster building where we were issued a bunch of clothing and a couple of bags to stuff it in. By 3:00 AM we were in our bunks and mighty glad to be out of the rain.
The next morning we were kicked out at 5:00 AM, and told to shave and clean up, and to our amazement with cold water! I thought this army was going to be tough, but didn't think it would include shaving in cold water. I hoped that this was not a sign of things to come. The mess hall was a pleasant surprise for there was ample food. It was not the best quality, but I had never been a fussy eater. The next day I stuffed my muddy civilian clothes in a laundry shipping case and sent them home. There was no need to worry about their condition because I wouldn't be needing them for a while. We were also issued two metal tags which were to be worn around our necks at all times. On them was our name, rank, serial number, next of kin, home address, religion, and blood type. After a considerable amount of academic testing, about 12 of us were sent to the Air Force, to Sheppard Field near Wichita Falls, Texas. What the ads said about seeing the country while in the service was about to begin. As we were leaving the train in Wichita Falls, other soldiers who had completed their training were getting on shouting, " You'll be sorry. This is a hell hole!" It wasn't quite that bad, but army camps were not noted for being located in choice spots, since a considerable amount of land was needed for housing and training.
For the first time in my life, I found out that there was only one kind of Yankee south of the Mason Dixon line; a damn Yankee. These guys were still fighting the Civil War. The philosophy of the army was to take this mass of young men, have their hair cut short, dress them alike, and train them to operate as a unit. The basic training day started at 5:00 AM with a blast from the bugler, and if that wasn't enough there were CQ's (charge of quarters) who would give us an extra nudge. Roll call was to be in full dress for the day, and was taken in front of the barracks. We had five minutes to put on our uniform and get into formation. After roll call, it was back to the barracks, where we would clean up and then proceed to stand in line about 1/2 hour for breakfast.
After eating, it was on to the drill field by 7:00 AM. The word was hurry up and wait. Day's end came at 5:00 PM. We were a tired sweaty bunch of guys. As the days went on, the reality of this whole business began to set in with home sickness, missing Ma's cooking, discipline, the high fences, the guards at the gate, and the feeling of being locked up. This coupled with the way the war was going made for a very discouraging outlook. Our forces were losing many battles. The future looked bleak. There was ample food to eat, but it was prepared in large quantities, and lacked a special touch. If we wanted eggs sunny side up we had to buy them at the Post Exchange. They were a real treat after eating those sticky powdered eggs.
Payday was an unusual experience because as a prerequisite for going to the pay table we had to undergo a genital inspection to check for venereal disease. The prescribed uniform for "short arm inspection" was a raincoat and shoes. That is all. The money was counted out in cash. Starting wages for a private were $30 per month minus the cost of $10,000 worth of life insurance which amounted to $6.50, laundry $1.50,and an optional deduction of $7.50 for a $10 government bond leaving a net pay of $14.50 per month. I was very careful not to get into the many gambling games that went on in the day room because I had no desire to go the entire month with no money.
We did not need cash for stamps to send letters. With the franking privilege, we could write "free" where the stamp went. It was also required that we include our return address written in the appropriate place with name, rank, and serial number. Mail call was an important part of our life. News from home was very welcome and important for our morale. Phone calls were seldom made because they were considered too expensive. Important messages were sent by telegram. People at home were very good about writing and keeping us informed about the happenings there. Every family with a son or sons in service had a flag in the window with a blue star on it. A huge bulletin board was built on the main street in town where the names of the service men were placed. As the war went on, some of the blue stars in the windows were replaced with gold stars indicating that their son had been killed in action.
After about eight months in service, I was granted a two week furlough. This was a great occasion! I could lay in bed in the morning and get some of Ma's cooking. No more guards at the gate, and no more passes to town to see what civilians looked like. (The main type of civilians we were looking for were 20 year old females.) Getting home again was a mighty good feeling. They had gas rationing, tire rationing, sugar rationing, and new machinery was impossible to get. New cars were difficult, but there was the black market where anything could be bought for a price.
Many of my old friends were not around Bloomington. The exceptions were the farm boys who were kept back to produce food for the cause. Although Kenneth had been reluctant to be one of those farm boys left at home, it would have been difficult for our parents to continue on without him, so he stayed.
When I came home on furlough, I was somewhat of a surprise to the folks because I had gained weight and taken up smoking. The cigarette companies added to the smoking temptation by going through the barracks and throwing packages of cigarettes on the bunks. It seemed to be the thing to do. Even the girls had gotten into the habit on a rather large scale. These times were chaotic and stressful, and this was one way people could relieve their frustrations. Women were working in defense plants where guns, tanks, and planes were being built. Prior to the war, jobs had been scarce and men had been given priority for this type of employment.
An opportunity to go to weather observation school fell by the wayside. Because of my considerable training in science, I found myself working in the hospital in a clinical laboratory. Working in a laboratory proved to be a rather boring, and routine job except when the boys came in with a case of venereal disease. They would give us all the details on how they got it.
Our crowded barracks were very difficult to sleep in when the temperature was over 100 degrees. There were no fans, insulation, or air conditioning. Another guy and I figured out that it would be much cooler if we moved our bunks out in the area between the barracks. This worked out very well until we didn't wake up, and missed roll call. I was called into the office, and reprimanded for not making roll call. They also informed me that I was shipping out to Sioux City, Iowa immediately. Upon returning to the barracks I found out that my billfold was missing. I was flat broke, and about to head for Iowa. Meal tickets and travel vouchers were made out for the trip, but I hadn't better make any mistakes. Payday was a long way off. After arriving in Sioux City, I wired home for money to relieve the acute money shortage.
It was great to be back in the midwest at this B_17 bomber base. This facility provided the final training for the crews before they were sent overseas. From here it was possible to get home on a three day pass even though it was a long train ride. At this base I was again assigned to the laboratory, but in due time was able to work into medical supply, a position in administration. This was more to my liking.
As the years went on this whole war business became very discouraging. We were winning some, and losing some, but the end was nowhere in sight. The casualties were mounting, and news was coming home regarding the cruel and inhuman treatment given to prisoners of war taken by the Japanese. There was heavy fighting on the high seas. Britain and London had been pounded with bombs. At this point an invasion of Britain by Germany would not have been surprising. Hitler, for some reason, decided to go into Russia instead. This proved to be his downfall. The Russians knew how to fight in the cold and the snow, while the German supply lines had been stretched to the limit.
At this point the "brass" in our army decided they needed more manpower to carry guns. Every available man was taken from our unit and assigned to the infantry. I often wondered what happened to my fellow workers because they had not been adequately trained in combat infantry. Eisenhower, the much respected and admired commander of the armed forces, announced on June 6, 1944 that the Allies were landing on French soil. This would mean that the pressure on the Soviets would be relieved, and the long awaited push to end the war was on. A fleet of more than 4,000 war ships and troop transports were used in the invasion. In the first 24 hours of the battle at Normandy, 25,000 men went ashore. Many lives were lost. General MacArthur's forces were winning back some of the territories taken by the Japanese. The navy had grown so large that one of its fleets was larger than the entire Japanese navy. The air force had also gained superiority and was master of the Pacific skies.
President Roosevelt had been failing in health, and on April 12, 1945 died of a cerebral hemorrhage. This loss was a severe shock to the country. He had been President as long as I could remember. He was a greatly admired and respected man who seemed to have the best interest of the common man foremost in his mind. The farmers had moved from the depth of a depression with few labor saving conveniences to a more stable farm economy, and a lifestyle that more closely resembled that of our city cousins. Harry Truman was then Vise President, but now became the new leader of our country.
In early 1945 it was apparent that the Germans could not hold on much longer. On February 4th to the 11th, 1945, a meeting was called at Yalta by the leaders of the allied nations. It was decided that they would accept only unconditional surrender from the Germans. Once the tide began to turn for the Allies, we knew that we were about to be victorious; a great weight had been lifted from the entire nation. The Germans surrendered April 29, 1945. On May 1, 1945 German radio announced that Hitler had died a hero's death.
However, documents that had fallen into allied hands several months later indicated that he had committed suicide. Suddenly on August 6, 1945, a super fortress bomber dropped a single atomic bomb on Hiroshima. On August 8, the Soviet Union declared war on Japan, and the following day another atomic bomb was dropped on Nagasaki. After these devastating raids, Japan was quick to capitulate. The Japanese sued for peace on September 2, 1945, thus ending World War II.
AMERICAN SOLDIERS KILLED IN WAR
Revolutionary 4,435
1812 2,260
Mexican 13,282
Civil 529,332
Spanish American 2,446
World War I 116,563
World War II 407,828
Korean 54,246
Viet Nam 56,237
Persian Gulf 335
This seemingly never ending conflict was finally over, and we could begin to reassemble our lives. I had made many friends both male and female during the war, but most of them I never heard from again. It was a time we wanted to wipe from our memories. My most pressing desire was to get back to the University of Wisconsin at Madison and finish my senior year in college. The men were discharged on a point system depending on length of service and amount of time spent overseas. Since I had not been on foreign soil, my total number of points was not as high as others. The waiting seemed like an eternity. In the fall of 1945, I was sent from Sioux City to Fort Sheridan located near Chicago to help with the processing of men, and to await my own discharge from the service.
BACK TO MADISON
I had kept in close contact with Professor James, the head of the Agriculture Education Department at the University. He had told me to inform him as to the date of my discharge. On February 28, 1946 the glorious day came, and I headed directly for Madison. After arriving there late at night, I checked into a hotel. I had about $280 in my pocket and a discharge from the Army. I was free at last!
I arrived at Professor James' office at about 9:00 AM on Saturday morning. He greeted me cordially and then said, "Where have you been? I had an engineering class scheduled for you at 8:00 AM. Set your bag down in the corner, and get into that class. As you know you are one month late in starting the second semester so you have no time to lose." I was well aware of this fact and knew that there was a possibility that I would not be able to make up for the lost time, but my desire to complete my education was strong. I was willing to throw caution to the wind and let the chips fall where they were going to fall. I was now 25 years old and by most standards had accomplished very little. I didn't even own a car. I walked into the engineering class proudly displaying the ruptured duck on my uniform indicating that I had been discharged from the service. I would be going to school under the GI bill which entitled service men to get $130 per month plus the payment of all books and tuition for up to four years of college. This was more money than I was accustomed to having.
My first item of business now was to find a place to live. Brad Scott, a neighbor boy from home and a schoolmate from Bloomington, was also attending the University. I thought if I contacted him that he might be able to help me find a place to stay. I found Brad living in the Livestock Pavilion overlooking the livestock show ring. I had spent many years exhibiting cattle here at the Junior Livestock Show. Brad assured me that I could probably live in the room next to him, and do some record keeping for the University on their livestock enterprises to pay for the room. Brad was a good operator, so I had every confidence in his judgement. After making the arrangements for the room, I hitch_hiked home shortly after noon. While there I bought a few civilian clothes, and the next day returned to Madison to settle in. Ma drove me back to school, and proceeded to clean the room to meet her standards. She did not approve of this type of housing, but after living in army barracks it was better than I had been used to.
School went amazingly well. The ag education class consisted of 13 returning veterans, all of which I had known before the war. Some, however, were obviously absent, a painful reminder that many had died and that those young men had paid the supreme price. The instructors and professors went out of their way to be helpful and to give us every break possible. The flag was flying high and their desire to help the returning veterans was a clear priority. We were given 15 credit hours for being in the service, so I would be able to get my degree in one semester and a summer school session. This would enable me to get a teaching job in the fall. My practice teaching was a patch work affair with one week at Oregon, Wisconsin, one week at West Salem, and one week at Waukesha. Job opportunities were plentiful; there was a shortage of teachers brought on by the war.
TEACHING
I was able to get a teaching position at Milton, Wisconsin, located about 40 miles from Madison. This seemed to be a good location. The salary of $2700 per year was much more than I had expected. Prior to the war, the salary for a similar position was $1200 per year. I would now be able to afford to buy my first car.
The selection was not good, but my parents managed to find a 1934 Chevrolet for $400 that looked like it would run. After making one of my trips back to Madison from Bloomington, I again checked the oil and found that the dip stick said, "out of oil". This was an indication that the car I had just purchased had seen better days. From then on, I decided that I had better check the oil often.
I made several trips to Milton that summer to oversee students' farm projects. I also needed to survey the instructional materials that were available for teaching. The high school agriculture department here was run down. The previous ag teacher was very good, but tired of the job and needed a change. As I sat there in that empty classroom, I had serious reservations about my ability to handle the job. The last four years of my life had been spent in a totally different environment. It had been many years since I had any contact with teenagers. I would have to watch my language and dared not come forth with any of the Army lingo.
The time had come for me to throw my few clothes in the car and head for Milton to set up permanent residence. I was able to get a room and board with Georgia and Harry Yale, located within walking distance of the high school. These were very warm and caring people so I felt right at home. I also had the good fortune of having Bob Shorey as a roommate. He was an ex_GI, a teacher of social science, and an assistant coach. He had been there for a year, and knew all the places for having fun, and more importantly knew where you dare not go. Milton was a community of Seventh Day Adventists and Baptists who had their sabbath day on Saturday instead of Sunday. They were also not very broad-minded by today's standards.
Teaching
The first day of school was at hand, and I was far from being a relaxed person. As the days went on, however, my level of comfort improved, and I was forever grateful for my four years of vocational agriculture in high school. I was able to fall back on my experiences there which made me fairly comfortable overall with teaching. It was very difficult to transpose the highly technical and scientific information from the University to the level of a 15 year old. The curriculum was such that classroom study had to be developed from pamphlets, books, and any other available materials.
There were other aspects of my life that were taking on a new twist as well. There was this pretty, slightly built home economics teacher with a million dollar smile and a personality to go with it. This far overshadowed the fact that she walked with a slight limp. She was causing a tremendous amount of unrest in my soul. It wasn't long before I had broken off any other romantic ties that I had in the past. LaVonne Woessner had become part of my life. She had no car, so I was requested by the superintendent to take her to visit her students who had projects in home economics. She had a three wheel bike with a motor attached that she would drive around town, but it wasn't good enough to take out in the country. This led me to believe that she was probably paying for her education and couldn't afford a car. We had a busy teaching schedule, but always found time to spend with each other at the end of the day.
Brad Scott had taken a job as assistant county agent in Janesville, and in November asked Lew (LaVonne's nickname - LaVonne Eleanor Woessner) and I if we would like to ride back to Bloomington with him. LaVonne was about to have her first look at the rest of the Martin family. Grandmother Carrie Harris was up home at the time of our arrival, and her reaction was not entirely favorable. We found out later that she was troubled about two people who walked with a limp being able to have any normal children.
The next phase was our decision that during Christmas vacation I would make the trip to Shannon, Illinois to meet her family. Our family had been to Savanna a number of times to visit our relatives, Lee and Berniece Griest, and to Chicago, but that was the extent of our travels in Illinois. My folks let me take their new 1947 Studebaker to make the trip because it would clearly make a better impression than my newly acquired 1936 Chevrolet. Although we were not well acquainted with each other's families, we at least had a sense of familiarity.
I was becoming more fond of Lew, and would be rather lost when she went back to Shannon for a visit. I was trying to get her to stay in Milton for the summer and to work for 10 months instead of the 9 months she was now working. She insisted that she was going back to Shannon to help her mother do the cooking for men. This would mean that we couldn't see each other much during the summer because my job required that I be there most of the year.
After spending a quiet evening in Whitewater, I without thinking said, "Shall we get married?" She shocked me by saying yes without any hesitation. I expected her to ask for a couple of weeks to think about it. My immediate reaction was to question whether I could afford it. After talking it over, I found that Lew was not without funds, and with both of us working we could make it. She wanted a big wedding to which I hesitantly agreed. To my knowledge no member of our family had ever gone through such an elaborate procedure to get married. For most of our family it had been a private ceremony or justice of the peace.
On a cold February day after school had been closed because of a furnace failure, we went to Janesville and bought the engagement ring. A June wedding was planned, so Mother Woessner was busy making arrangements. She was doing this with mixed emotions. Happiness for her daughter was weighed on one hand against apprehension and doubt on the other. They had known this man that their only daughter was about to marry for only a very short time. She was a very special person to the entire family. Our marriage was not easy for any of them.
The wedding went off very well with a good number of relatives on both sides attending including my two grandmothers. Lew had made her wedding gown, and there were many homegrown flowers from several different places. The soloist was a high school boy from Milton, the son of the people Lew and Avis (her close friend) stayed with in Milton.
We took off on our honeymoon to Niagara Falls with my folks' 1947 Studebaker. I had intended to take the old 1936 Chevrolet, but my parents didn't think it could make the trip. The wedding must have been too much for me because I drove from the Woessner farm to the highway in second gear, forgetting to shift into high. We had no hotel reservations, but managed to get a room overlooking a railroad track in Elgin, Illinois. From there we traveled to upstate New York, but I was much more interested in my new bride than the sites along the way.
When we returned home to Shannon, one of the first things LaVonne's Father Howard said was, "It's time for you guys to get to work now." Lew's brother Bill had a combination work horse that could be used for riding. It had been many years since I had ridden a horse, but was anxious to try it again. After all I had spent much of my boyhood riding horses. While I was riding down the road, the horse made a quick turn into a neighbor's yard, and I was thrown onto a hay mower, resulting in a broken leg. Returning home from a honeymoon with a broken leg is a little hard to explain.
We returned to Milton where we had rented a nice home close to school. We were looking forward to furnishing it with money Lew's parents had given us for furniture. Later that year we were able to buy a new 1947 Studebaker for $1500. I was very hesitant to write a check that large for a car, but with both of us teaching, money was not a problem.
As time went on, I became restless with the teaching profession; there seemed to be no future in it. The only way an increase in wages could be obtained was to move to a different school. There were no teachers' unions at that time to negotiate salary increases. In my opinion, this profession seemed better adapted to women who did not need to be primary bread winners. I began to look for employment in other areas.
THE MILWAUKEE RAILROAD
After exploring many possibilities, I decided to take a job with the Milwaukee Railroad in the Agriculture and Mineral Development Department located in the Union Station in Chicago. It was the responsibility of this department to develop agriculture in the areas served by the railroad so more freight would be available for hauling. I worked in the office in room 736. It was a pleasant office to work in with the commissioner, his assistant, and two secretaries. My experience with office work in the army was very helpful in adjusting to this new job.
Housing in the Chicago area was very difficult to find. During the war there were very few homes being built, but now the boys were coming back from service and getting married, so there was a strong demand for places to live. We managed to find an upstairs apartment in Elgin near the Milwaukee Railroad commuter train stop where I could board and ride free of charge to Chicago. Although I worked an eight hour day, the trip to and from Chicago added two hours to my day.
Our apartment had no hot water, and was equipped with a coal burning stove for heating. I had to be on the train by 7:07 AM, and never managed to get out of bed in time to get the fire going in the morning. This posed a big problem for my new wife because she was not experienced at building a fire in that kind of a stove. The experiences she had here curtailed any desire she might ever have for a fireplace. Before many months went by the house was sold to a new landlord with a family. They quickly concluded that we needed an oil burning stove, hot water, and paint for the dingy, long neglected walls. With these improvements, we were very comfortable.
Lew was very anxious to have a baby, and so it happened. No problem there. LaVonne got a job at the Elgin watch factory. It was convenient and an easy place for her to work in her condition.
These were happy times for us. The wages from the railroad were not great, $2,900 per year, but the work was interesting and it was a pleasant environment. This was to be a training experience for me so that at a later date I could serve as an agriculture agent in one of the out_lying areas. In this capacity I would be away from home at least 5 and 1/2 days per week.
Lew had a normal pregnancy, but she was careful to eat all of
the proper foods, and do the things she was supposed to. We were excited about the new one that was about to become part of our life. We managed our money well, but decided that if we were to be confined with a baby that we would need more entertainment. Television was just coming on the market. While walking the streets of Elgin, we stopped to watch a television set in operation in one of the store windows. Before the evening was over we had purchased a 13" Admiral television set for $169. It was out of character for us to make such a hasty decision for something as new and frivolous as a television set. Television in its infancy had a limited number of programs including wrestling, Major Bowes Amateur program, Red Skelton, quiz programs, football, and some baseball, but the camera work on the sports events left much to be desired.
In the wee hours of the morning on April 13, 1949, Lew woke and told me that the water had broken and that we had better head for the hospital. As we started out at 6:00 AM, we met the Woessner parents coming to visit us in route to the Chicago Stock Yards. John and Mary Truckenmiller were with them, but Grandmother Woessner wanted to stay so she could see her first grandchild. It was a bright warm sunshiny day, so Mother Iva and I decided that we might as well spade up and plant some garden in a spot I had rented in a nearby lot. By the end of the day the garden was planted, but still no baby. Howard came back from Chicago at about 6:00 PM, and in spite of Iva's reluctance to go, they headed for home. At about 8:30 PM we had a baby girl__Sandra Kay. Lew was tired, but very happy with her new baby. One of the first things I noticed about Sandra was an indentation on her neck which seemed to make it difficult for her to hold her head up. This concerned us, but the Doctor informed us that she had no doubt had her fist doubled up there, and that she would be fine.
Doris, my sister, was not employed at the time, and came to Elgin to be with us and to help with the new baby.
We soon found that this little one was going to command much of our attention along with that of the neighbors. She made a lot of noise in the evening resulting in many hours of rocking. Air conditioners were not yet available and all the windows were opened wide, so when I walked to the commuter train in the morning I expected some mighty harsh treatment from our neighbors. We muddled through those early days, but it wasn't easy, and before long, mother and daughter were coming up the street to meet me as I came home from work.
She had become a great joy in our life and we took many picture of her. So many in fact, that we started developing our own. Sandy was the first grandchild on either side of the family. Consequently, she attracted much attention, particularly from her Grandfather Woessner, who heretofore had not demonstrated a great deal of outward affection.
A CHANGE IN DIRECTION
Up to this point in our marriage, Lew had not given me many ultimatums. She now, however announced that she did not want to raise a family by herself, and if this job entailed having me gone for up to 5_1/2 days per week, I had better find another way of making a living. I could readily see her point, so did not dispute her thinking. About that time my boss, Mr. Robbins, a kind of father figure to me, told me that he believed the future for the agriculture department of the railroad did not look very bright, and advised me to look around and see what I could find for other employment.
We had accumulated about $8000 to this point and were giving considerable thought to going into some kind of business on our own. We investigated various businesses including feed, machinery, chicken hatchery, and farming. We never seriously considered any other job opportunities in spite of the fact that there were many available. I suppose we were ready to put down some roots, and raise a family.
Uncle Richard and Aunt Frances Morrissey had a 280 acre farm near Bloomington, Wisconsin that was available to rent 50%_50%. We would provide the labor, machinery, 1/2 of the livestock, seed, and feed, and in return would receive half of the income. This was our opportunity. Lew and I were both familiar with farming so knew some of the problems that might arise. We had decided that conditions would have to get mighty bad for us to retreat from our objective.
It took a lot of optimism to give up the security of a regular paycheck and to head ourselves in such a drastically different direction, but we were confident in the future. The only equipment we had to start farming with was a hammer, a pair of pliers, and a screw driver. There was no equipment left on the farm by the previous tenant.
Early in February, we loaded our furniture on the back of an open grain truck, and headed for Wisconsin with our little family__one little 2 year old girl and another on the way. We were moving back to within one mile of where I was born to face a new challenge. From this day on I would have to encounter a whole new set of circumstances and our livelihood would depend on things as unpredictable as the weather and fluctuating farm prices. I needed to develop management skills, physical stamina, patience with hired help, judgement, and the tenacity to hang on when the going gets tough. Our family's success in farming would depend on our ability to meet this challenge.
We were happy to be back on the farm again, and near family. It was also good to be back in a house rather than an apartment, although it did not as yet have a bathroom. The outside toilet was in bad need of being moved to a new location. A pipeless wood burning furnace provided the heat for the house. The two large rooms to the north__one upstairs, and the other down__provided the housing for the hired man and his family. We shared a common stairway. This arrangement, strangely enough, did not pose any great problem.
To start this farming venture, we had to buy 1/2 of the corn, oats, hay, and silage that was left on the farm. To provide our share of the livestock, we also needed 15 bred gilts to have baby pigs, 7 dairy cows, 20 fall pigs, and the necessary farm machinery. Richard had a herd of about 30 shorthorn beef cows of which we were to get 1/3 of the offspring in exchange for providing half of the feed and the labor. To finance this enterprise we used up the $8000 that we had saved, and borrowed an additional $5000 from Lew's father. Our new machinery consisted of a new Oliver 88 tractor (considered to be the power tractor of its day), a corn cultivator, and a 3-bottom 14 inch plow. The total cost of these three items was $2900. The remainder was used machinery, some of it horse drawn, that could be used with the team of horses that Richard had.
Before too many weeks had passed, we discovered that there were multiple obstacles to overcome. Virgil Patch, my first of many hired men, was an experience by himself. He rolled his own cigarettes in slow motion which was apparently his speed of choice for all activities. He was not well educated, but was quick to inform me that he wasn't going to let me push him around just because I had more education than he. This was my first confrontation with hired help, and I handled it very badly. I made no response at all, but with experience I learned the tricks of the trade, and managed to improve my supervisory skills.
Generally, if I had an extravagance in farming it was in hiring help. Lew wasn't built to clean out the cow barn or help sort hogs, and I didn't have the stamina to do two men's work. With this in mind we had to hire extra help to get the job done, and figure out some way to pay them. Most of the men we hired were married and lived in separate housing. We also provided for their utilities, phone, and gave them meat, eggs, and milk that were produced on the farm. For some the tenure was rather short. During the period of time we had dairy cows, keeping a hired man was a problem. They were required to be at work at 6:00 AM and work until 6:00 PM. These were long hours, and it seemed that if the men didn't get tired of it, their wives did.
Another immediate problem we faced was the need to modernize the operation. The cows had been milked by hand. In order to milk more cows faster, we needed to install a milking machine. Hay had never been chopped and blown into the barn, and a manure loader had never been used on the farm. These changes were made, but were very difficult for Richard to adjust to. To provide for more milk cows during our first year on the farm, Richard built a new barn that would house 24 dairy cows This was a big improvement over the 14 stanchions in the old barn.
Kenneth was farming the home farm in partnership with our parents, which made working together very convenient for both of us. We had some tough learning experiences that first year, much of it with used machinery. We were not familiar with the used John Deere chopper and blower, and as a result they were a constant source of aggravation. Richard kept telling us that this modern machinery would never work, and we were on the verge of believing him, but didn't dare give in.
Another source of difficulty was the weather. It was not very cooperative during the first year we farmed. We had a late wet spring and an early frost which resulted in a poor corn crop that did not keep well in the crib. As a result of this poor crop, we needed to buy corn for our livestock feed. Kenneth and I agreed to buy corn out of the field from a farmer down by Glen Haven. He told us that he had checked the loads, and they would average a good 30 bushels per load. We considered this man to be very honest, and although ours was a loose arrangement, we were sure that this would be no problem. Toward the end of this venture, Kenneth thought he would dump a load on his pick_up, and take it to town for weighing. He found that we were very short on what we had agreed on. We informed the farmer of the problem, but he would make no adjustment. Needless to say, we were not experienced corn buyers and were careful not to expose our inadequacies in this area.
Oat harvesting was done the old fashioned way by cutting with a binder, shocking by hand, and later threshing with a threshing machine. We were short of help, making this a slow process. The threshing was barely done in time to start cutting corn for silage. It seemed that we could never get caught up on our work probably due to a lack of experience and poor machinery. We were heavily indebted just to cover basic costs, so buying newer machinery was out of the question.
We had decided during the second year we farmed that we would take the big plunge and buy a combine. We again fell into the used machinery trap. This time it was a disaster. We purchased a nice looking used self propelled combine that had less obvious shortcomings. We spent more time under it working on a drive belt than we did driving it in the field. We were not even able to finish the oat harvest with this machine. The machinery dealer we had purchased it from took pity on us, and brought in at no cost a newer machine to finish the job. We ultimately traded for a new pull-type Massey Harris that worked very well.
We had decided before we left Elgin that it was time for Sandra to have a little playmate. Lew's pregnancy made it difficult for her to make the adjustment to all the work that had to be done on the farm__carrying the drinking water from the well, washing the milking machines, gathering eggs, gardening, cooking for extra help, and chasing a little 2-year old around. In addition, this pregnancy for a variety of reasons, was not easy. On a hot July day her water broke. There were no labor pains so we were in no hurry to make the trip, but my mother said in no uncertain terms, "Get to the hospital." After having Lew checked in, I decided that it was going to be a long wait, and went out to the car for a while. As I walked back into Lew's room, she got out of bed to take a walk and blood gushed all over the floor. Fortunately the doctor was close by, and since he was a surgeon rushed her into surgery, and removed the baby by Caesarean section. Within minutes we had a cute little blond girl, Kathryn Sue. Both mother and daughter were fine, a happy ending to what could have been a disaster.
After Lew arrived home she was quite weak. We hired a neighbor girl, Kathryn Weber, to help with the house work and the newborn baby. Grandma Harris and Ma were also a big help with the new arrival. Grandma was getting up in years, but even as a great grandmother was strong and capable. Her long years of nursing newborns and their mothers was second nature to this 76 year old dynamo. Her skill and desire to be of use was a tremendous asset to our young family.
We were active in the social life of the Bloomington community. I was elected to the school board, and Lew was active in the Farm Women's Club and in teaching Sunday School. It was good to be near family, and have them available to lend a helping hand when it was needed.
We also needed a lot of advice. Dad was a firm believer in teaching us how to do it, and then letting us take over. His famous saying was "You will never learn any younger". I find myself using that philosophy not only on my kids, but on myself as well. Dad was good at castrating pigs so I thought I had no problem with this detail. I mistakenly assumed that Dad would take care of that chore for me, but he had different ideas. He told me he would show me how, and I could take over. I had many cuts on my fingers before I mastered that procedure, and in the process learned to value my father's learn-by-doing approach.
Caring for livestock took a good share of our time on the farm. I would need to be out of the house by 5:30 AM to get the cows out of the pasture for milking by 6:00 AM. There needed to be a 12 hour interval between the morning and evening milking. Our farrowing facilities consisted of three six pen portable hog houses pulled together. When it was time for sows to farrow they were difficult to handle, and it was at times very hard to get them in the pens. The first litter of pigs for this new farming operation was farrowed on top of a hay stack at night during a light snow fall. In spite of the awkward choice of nests, this first litter turned out fine, an important milestone. Hogs were considered the mortgage lifter and consequently were our main source of income for paying the larger bills.
Hogs in the early part of our farming years sold for 15_17 cents per pound. Milk prices were in the $3.00 per hundred range, and fat cattle sold for under 20 cents per pound. Needless to say, paying income tax in those early years of farming was not a hardship, but we were building up inventory and skill.
After farming on shares for four years, we concluded that if we wanted to improve the farm and our financial position we would need to buy it. Richard and Auntie didn't want to sell at this time, so buying the farm we were on was now out of the question.
TO ILLINOIS
Lew's folks wanted us to move to Shannon, and offered to buy a farm that we could eventually buy if we would help with the work of building it up. The decision to move was one of the most difficult decisions I have ever had to make. We learned for ourselves that "the Lord acts in mysterious ways" because it would later become clear that Lew needed to be with her family during some of the tragic events that were yet to come. Things seemed to work out for the best in Wisconsin as well. Kenneth was later able to buy Richard's farm, and Bud was able to buy the home farm.
Probably one of the greatest concerns I had was being able to work with Lew's father. Howard gave the impression of being a stern man, the kind that no one differed with a great deal. Up to this point in time he and I had not become very close, and I was apprehensive about having a good working relationship with him. Lew's brother Bill assured me that this would be no problem. Lew was tired of carrying the drinking water from the barn to the house, and there was no doubt in my mind that she wanted to move back home although she led me to believe that the decision was up to me.
In the first part of March in 1955 we loaded our belongings and headed for Illinois to what had been Lew's home farm. The farm we were to ultimately move onto needed a complete overhaul, including the house. (The house was built by Henry Rhodes and his brother. He was not a carpenter by trade and went on to become the mayor of Rockford.) We also brought Bob Horsfall and his family from Wisconsin to work for us. He had been with us while we were on Richard's farm. He proved to be a big help with the building projects that were to follow. Brother Bill soon came back from the service. We now had ample help with men going in every direction. Lew's youngest brother, Jim, Bob Horsfall, and I were delegated to work on building projects on the new farm. If we needed additional help, the rest of the crew would lend assistance. Our main goal was to make the new farm productive as soon as possible. Fences had to be taken out and rebuilt, fertilizer spread, trees around the farmstead cut down, ditches in the field graded shut, junk hauled out, useless buildings torn down, the barn cleaned and jacked up so a new wall could be placed under it, a milking parlor and milk house built, a lean_to shed built on the barn, yards cemented, and a new silo and hog house erected.
The house also needed a complete overhaul including furnace, chimney, roof, bathroom, and a total remodeling of the downstairs. Lew and her mother had great fun making plans for the renovation of the house. It took
many carpenters to make these changes along with our unskilled hands. The going wage for carpenters was from $1.65 to $2.25 per hour.
By the time Thanksgiving rolled around we were living in our new home. The outside of the house was being covered with shingles, but the remodeling had not been completed when we moved in. Our little 4 year old Kathy, said she did not want to move over to that old "dunky" house (she had a bit of a speech problem).
The dairy cows were going through the milking parlor and the pigs were in the hog house. It ha