First 30 Years of My Dad's 90-Year-Old Life

Dad turned 90-years-old on Christmas Eve. He is healthy, independent, and lives in the house in which he was born.

I was surprised he did not want to dispense advice, but like many of his age group, The Greatest Generation as fellow South Dakotan Tom Brokaw has dubbed them, Dad chose to reminisce.

What follows are some of the technological changes a farm boy from east central South Dakota experienced from 1924 to 2014. 

Part I: The First 30 Years 

Waldo ~ in his tweens

Farmers' Line: 1924-1934, Decade #1 
Primitive Living

In the 1930s, farmers formed groups and installed telephone lines. A household would agree to be a switchboard. My Uncle Johnny's parents and Mom's cousin Mary G's family were switchboard centers. If someone called outside the group, the switchboard would make the connection to the other group and could also listen in. That's how the community got news.

Dad told the story of a young girl telephoning that she couldn't find anymore cow chips. The woman on the other end of the line responded in German saying, "Dear girl, nothing to eat. Nothing to poop." It was the Dirty 30s, and cow chips were burned for heat. 

Eventually, those phone lines deteriorated, and the farmers didn't have the money to maintain or repair them. It would not be until 1957 that the rural landline telephone system was installed.

a teenage Waldo

Farming with Machines: 1934-1944, Decade #2
Rabbit Hunting when Pearl Harbor Attacked in 1941

After most of the horses died of sleeping sickness, Dad's father did not have enough horses left to pull the binder. So he traded all but two horses in and spent $200 to purchase an F-12 Farmall tractor with steel wheels that could only go four mph back in 1935. This tractor could pull an eight-foot disc and a two bottom plow. Grandpa used the remaining team of horses to make hay.

Six years later, Grandpa Pete traded in that tractor for a rubber-tired H-Farmall vehicle that could travel 15 mph and pull a three bottom plow. To finance this $900 tractor, he made payments along with the trade-in.

Also in 1941, Grandpa purchased a five-foot Allis Chalmers combine. This revolutionized the family farm, for now they could harvest without a thrashing crew. Stories about harvest work before the combine belong in another post.

Speaking of thrashing crews, seems Uncle Johnny and neighbor Elmer Wipf hopped on a train to Minnesota. They didn’t buy a ticket or sit in seats. They rode hanging onto the outside of the train or maybe even on top of it. After they arrived, they earned a dollar a day shocking bundles on a thrashing crew. This happened in '33 or '34, according to Dad, who heard it from Uncle Johnny—who was, by the way, a story teller.

high school graduation picture

Humbling Beginnings: 1944-1954, Decade #3
Young Adulthood 

Rural areas were still without electricity; however, they knew it was coming some time, so to prepare, the farm was wired and a light plant was placed in the garage in 1947. A little motor with a gas engine made the electricity. They had lights, but not much use for appliances until that year or the next when Aunt Mary and Uncle Jr. went to Chicago to purchase a truck and came home with a gift. A toaster. 

Mom & Dad

Before indoor plumbing, they did have a bathtub that was supplied with hot water from the cook stove that was heated with wood, cobs, cow patties, or whatever they could find.

"There was always a supply of warm water on the side of the stove," Dad said. "Just reach in with the dipper." 

Indoor plumbing didn't exist in the home yet because they couldn’t get water pressure until a pump was installed, and that required electricity. Once that convenience came to fruition, they went to Sears to pick out a plumbing package of a toilet, sink, and tub. Dad's recollection of this event was funny.

"Sears then sent out two old codgers," he said. "They took two suitcases down into the cellar, then went back out and returned with the cast iron pipes to install. I couldn't figure out what they had in those suitcases." After some snooping around, Dad found beer inside.

With indoor plumbing came the need for a septic tank and sewer tiles. Young people from the church helped. One such youngster was Dad’s cousin's son, Roger Wollman. He later became a South Dakota Supreme Court Justice and now sits on the 8th Circuit Court of Appeals. He too, had a humble beginning.
 

Dad & Mom with Elliott & Priscilla

Writer's Note: Part II, years 40 through 60, coming in the next post.


Any similarities between my dad's stories and your ancestor's? What was their first household appliance? Where were they when Pearl Harbor was attacked?


 

Treating with Tricks

Popcorn balls, Snickers, Kit Kat bars, and maybe some Sweet Tarts. My typical load for Halloween trick-or-treating in the middle of rural South Dakota.

our scarecrow head in 2009, a year-old jack-o'-lantern

Not much, but I did get to nibble on the leftovers in the bags Mom had assembled for the kiddos: Hershey's Kisses, Tootsie Rolls, hot cinnamon hard candy, and salt water taffy. I knew it would eventually all be mine because not many masked goblins came knocking.

The popcorn balls came from my mom's cousin, Mary G. Wipf, a woman who was like an aunt to me who passed away this summer. Braces kept me from taking a big bite, but they tasted the same after busted up with a knife. Mary G. made the same treats for Christmas time too—only with green and red food coloring.

my dad with Mary G., the popcorn ball lady, summer of 2009

Why was my Halloween haul so small? We only had a few neighbors, and Mom never drove me more than five miles from home. I do not remember going too many places.

One year Aunt Grace and Uncle Johnny were not home, and my childhood mind wondered why. 

They knew I would be coming. They should have stayed home. 

Mom must have sensed my disappointment when I plopped back into the car. She said, "Go move that ladder and block their door."

"Why? What for?"

"They'll have to move it when they come home. What do you think trick-or-treat means anyway?"

Ironically, this summer, my youngest sister Brenda and I went to that same farm and played a trick-or-treat of a different kind on my cousin. No one answered our knock, so we moved a pot of flowers in front of the door with this note: "Your Kansas cousins were here."

Within minutes a cell phone rang. Our cousin Gordie hunted us down via our nephew-in-law Erik who lived nearby. It worked. We headed back for a short visit with Gordie and his wife Charlotte before they headed off to 4th of July festivities. 

Gordie's treat: a kiss from two of his Hofer cousins

My childhood trick-or-treating days ended around fifth or sixth grade, but for that last go-round, Mom let me stay in town at Tami Price's house. She was a friend and classmate whose birthday was near Halloween. And yes, she lived in town.

10-year-old Tami, my friend who lived in Hitchcock

In-town trick-or-treating for a country kid was like a town kid getting to run naked in mud puddles on a farm after a rain storm.

My orange pumpkin bucket was so full that the candy lasted until Christmas time. I have no idea where I kept it at school the next day so the candy would not be stolen.

Good thing Mom had kept me close to home for Halloween all those years because I am not sure I would have any teeth left today. I already had a mouth full of cavities due to pop drinking. For more about that bad habit, read my post entitled Dr. Pepper, Mountain Dew, and a Slew of Yahoo.

What is your favorite Halloween memory? Ever play an innocent Halloween trick on someone? Or get sick from too much candy?