Jens Niels Christensen Winter

Around home I did a lot of singing, especially when I was washing dishes. No one ever told me to shut up, so I guess it was all okay. I took twelve organ lessons, at one dollar per, then they were stopped. I never knew why even though my teacher walked down to talk to Dad about it. She got a “No.” I guess $4.00 a month in those days was considered quite a bit. I remember Dad and Grandpa talked about it. They had cleared $300 one fall; they thought they had a good harvest. That does not sound like much, but in those days we had our own milk cows, chickens, eggs, pigs, and some ducks and geese. We stayed our distance from the gander; he would put down his head with his tongue out, and spread out his wings and come after us.

We used to wade in the river, and catch bullheads and minnows for Dad to fish with. We caught the bullheads with a two-tined fork. The dumb things would rest with their heads under a rock, but their hearing was good, so catching them was not easy. It depended on who was the smartest. The minnows we caught with a bent pin for a hook.

As we grew older, we took over the washing. It was a full day’s work. If we got through by two or three o’clock, we thought we were doing wonderfully well. But if we got through early, it was because the boiler of water went on the stove early, carried from ditch or river. Sometimes two of us would take a tub and two buckets to the river and fill them, carrying the tub between us and a full bucket, one on each side. For awhile we washed on washboards. The old washer must have given out. But whatever way we did it in those days, it was water and more water which was heated in a boiler. The white clothes were washed first, put in the boiler in soapy water and boiled for awhile, rinsed in a tub of water, then in a tub of water with bluing in it. The colored clothes got the same treatment, except the boil, and when they were all hung on the line to dry, they looked beautiful, so we could rest until evening when they were all brought in, folded, and put away. The ones that were to be ironed were sprinkled with water, folded and put away to be ironed on Tuesday. Monday and Tuesday were accounted for. We had no detergents, and no water softener, except lye if necessary. Later we got a washing machine. It was nice, but still a big job. We turned it fifteen minutes for each batch and also turned the wringer, but it beat doing it on the washboard. Lew Zitzman, Ma’s sister’s husband, put down a well a few feet from the door. It was grand for household use, but for washing in summer, the wash water came from the river.

There were raspberries to be picked, and red and black currants still in the garden that Dad and Mother had planted. It was now overgrown with grass, but a few strawberries also still survived. Such high hopes that ended all too soon. What we did not use, Ma would sell.

The following things are not in chronological order, but things we all did, year after year. The first year or two of our changed world is rather blank, but I do remember giving Elmer swift rides in his little red wagon, also playing with his dog. At times I would tease Elmer, but I don’t know why. Uncle Pete always teased me. Anyway, Elmer would take after me with the broomstick he still had. I would laugh so hard I could hardly run because I was afraid he would hit me. I asked him one day if he would have hit me. He said, “I don’t know, probably,” but I doubt it. He was maybe having as much fun as I.

I presume we did what we were told to do. Margaret and I, on our knees, mopped the kitchen floor on Saturday. In fact the whole house was cleaned on Saturday with broom, dust cloth, muscles, and strong backs.

Sometimes in the summer we would hang bedding out in the sun all day. At night they would smell so sweet and fresh. This we did quite often. Once a year the house was cleaned thoroughly. Everything was carried out. The carpets were taken up, hung on the clothesline, and beaten to get the dust out. The old trodden straw was cleaned up, the floors swept and scrubbed. The walls were wiped, woodwork and windows washed, new clean straw put down, and carpet stretched and tacked down. It took us one or two days. Ma did not help as much now that we were old enough to do things ourselves. She washed the curtains and did the kitchen work with Dora’s help. In those days of housework we all worked, and I must say I sort
of enjoyed it.

In the fall it was threshers. Although it was extra work, it was different and exciting, even with all the dishes we had to wash. A few men came for breakfast and some would stay for supper; others had home chores to do. Dinner at noon was the big meal, with ten to thirteen men. There was a hired girl who helped. We had potatoes to peel, a large table to set, dishes galore. Ma always made the pies. It was hard for me to decide which place to be, inside or out. I usually kept busy inside. How long the threshers were there depended on how much grain Dad harvested or how many times the threshing machine broke down. At first the machine was turned by horses going around and around all day. They were watered and fed at noon, along with a feed of grain. It was a long day’s work for them. We liked to run around the hard trail they left. I remember seeing Margaret pitching grain shocks onto the stack, but when the stack got so high, it had to be pitched by someone else.

We all had our turn working in the fields, bunching hay, and stomping and leveling it as it was pitched on the hayrack, also driving the horses from pile to pile. Later we gathered grain bundles from the binder, shocking them together, ready to be hauled to the stack.

The Fourth of July was a great day in Huntsville. The day would start with a big dynamite boom at four o’clock in the morning. By nine o’clock, the band wagon was out, playing music all around town. On the town square a program would be put on in the bowery. The bowery was made of posts in the ground with posts across overhead and tree branches spread over the top to keep out the sun. An organ was there and chairs were set for the speaker, and those on the program. Boards were set up for people to sit on. By ten or ten-thirty everything was ready to go – ice cream, candy, popcorn, lemonade – take your pick. I had five nickels so I could have five things. It was a hard choice. There was always a game of baseball in the afternoon. Elmer always managed to bring home some firecrackers. Whether Dad gave him more money than the rest of us, or whether his sweet tooth wasn’t as big as mine remains
a secret. As I got older, I enjoyed the ball games.

One spring the high water had washed the road out beyond the bridge. Uncle Peter had put a log over so they could cross over. One day Dora and I decided to cross over and go to Aunt Mary’s. We made it both ways over that swiftly roaring, boiling water. If we had fallen in, we would never have survived. It makes me shiver to think about it even now.

[Margaret was married to Burt Burton and now that she was gone,] more responsibility fell on me. Now it was my turn to milk the cows and see to the chores, which were chickens, cows, pigs, ducks, geese. Dad did the feeding in winter, but he would not milk the cows. In summer the ducks and geese took care of themselves. The ducks would lay their eggs up the river and the geese around the pond. The little ducklings and goslings were so cute, but we kept away from Papa Goose. He would come after us, flapping his wings. In winter, milking cows was not too bad until the barn burned down, then the cows had to be tied to the fence out in the snow and cold. Those poor cows and the milker, we were chilled clear through on the cold mornings when it dropped below zero, and it was “get out and milk before school.” In the summer we had to get the milk cans out by 7:00 a.m. for the milkman, and the cows out by 7:30 when Pete came by to get them, or I had to take them to the pasture myself which happened quite often. But we seemed to take things in our stride. What had to be done was done without a fuss.