Yesterday we took our regular trip to Lisbon to visit my mother. I picked up a copy of McLeod's Centennial history book printed in 1986 while there and when paging through it ran across this story told about relatives in Burleigh County. I read it aloud. "It was here on a very stormy afternoon in mid-January that Elisabeth told Arne he'd better harness up because she thought number eleven was on the way! The nearest midwife lived 17 miles away, so no time was lost debating its arrival. Hay was pitched into the wagon box, standing by on the sleigh and with several horsehide robes and blankets, Arne left the ranch on another familiar mission! Things went quite well - about two-thirds of the way there, Cliff decided now was the time. Arne unhitched the team, took off their harnesses and turned them loose. He then tipped the box upside down over the hay with Elisabeth bedded down inside and let nature take its course. The team of ponies arrived home during the night and by the crack of dawn, a family "scout" was on his way, following the footprints of the returning horses, where he found mother and son doing fine, but dad had run out of chewing tobacco!
I could tell my mother enjoyed it because she was laughing and wiping tears from her eyes. Then she told this story from her experiences. It seems her dad, my grandpa, had gone to the Venlo store for groceries, but for some reason Grandpa's tobacco did not get put into the sack. When he got home and realized it wasn't included, my mother was drafted into service to ride the horse the three miles and fetch it. I still remember stories when stranded in three day blizzards the man had run out of tobacco and couldn't wait until the roads opened up so he could feed his habit.
Wife Mary reminded me of another story concerning an uncle of her dad's. Immigrants, they were heading out to their chosen land. "They had about 30 miles to go. Ice crystals were forming on Max's face and he was tired and hungry. Before they left Shields, Max's lady cousin informed Benigna she was pregnant and the baby was due any day. No one knew she was with child. When her husband died at sea she was terrified thinking she and her boys would be sent back to Krassna if they were found out. After a few miles she went into labor. Benigna told Max what was happening. They unloaded the hayrack, dug a hole in the snow and set the rack upside down over the hole. They put straw on the ground under the hayrack and tied the horses to the side. When the horses laid down they put blankets over the horses and laid down between the horses and the rack. The heat from the horses kept them warm. The baby was born at about 1:30 in the morning in a snow bank under an upturned hayrack. Max milked the cow and the morther drank warm milk to give her strength. The baby lived." The story went on to tell they left the scene next day and drove along until they came to someone's sod house where they stayed. Tough people!
She gets the RFD TV channel and for some background noise it was turned on to an old Roy Rogers show. I had a good laugh when Pat Buttram and Gabby Hayes were riding and arguing about Gabby's driving in an open Jeep. Gabby couldn't take anymore and jerked the steering wheel off the column and handed it to Pat. They made a show of handing it back and forth while the Jeep was still rolling down the road trying to keep up to Roy on horseback. Finally they ran in the ditch and then really started arguing. Great stuff, simpler time!
Talk about being stranded for three days, check out this story: A cruise
ship passes a small desert island. Everyone watches as a ratty-looking
bearded man runs out on the beach and starts shouting and waving his
hands. "Who's that?" asks one of the passengers to the captain. "I
have no idea," replies the captain, "but every year we sail past, he
goes nuts."
