My childhood was a relatively happy one, shared with an older brother, Eugene, and a younger sister, Goldie. Fort Madison, Iowa was the town we grew up in, along the Mississippi river in the southeastern part of the state.
Our father worked for the Santa Fe railroad as a machinist in the roundhouse. Consequently, we could ride the train free, a fringe benefit for the worker.
When the Wall Street crash came in 1929 and the depression of the thirties began, Dad eventually lost the small, four-room house he was buying on 29th Street. We then moved to an apartment over a grocery store on Avenue H. This was more of a business area and is now referred to as Santa Fe town. The Kennedy store, as it was called then, has since been remodeled and changed to a motel.
In this period of our life, Dad had a near fatal accident on the job. A huge chain, suspended from a crane, broke and fell, hitting Dad between the shoulders. Had he not been bending over at the time, it would have landed on his head, killing him.
He was hospitalized for quite sometime. This injury may have contributed to the severe arthritic problems he suffered in the following years.
Mom, during these years, was the dutiful housewife and mother, maintaining a meticulous household.
Just before I was to enter High School, the ninth grade, we moved again. This was more near the center of town in a duplex at 1725 Avenue I. I completed the ninth grade in the spring of 1937. I was fifteen years old and allowed to date.
Although there were several classmates that I became friendly with, my best friend was at least two years older than me. We had lived next door to one another when I was pre-school, on 29th Street. Rosella Reno and I became best friends in our teens.
Occasionally, she and I attended the dances, held on Saturday night at the Eagles Hall. It was here that I met several of the young men I dated.
In mid June, after attending one of these dances, Rosella and I went to the Café, where she worked part time. It was here that a young man walked over and introduced himself as Richard Wingett and asked permission to sit with us. After a few minutes conversation he was asking me for a date, for Sunday. Having constantly been warned by my mother as to “Pick Ups”, I was compelled to refuse. However, while Rosella and I were waiting on the sidewalk for our taxi, Richard was at my side still trying for a date. Finally, I said okay, and left in the taxi, not giving him my address. I thought this was pretty clever.
Sunday afternoon found Richard knocking on my door. He had obtained my address from Rosella at the café. I wasn’t too surprised. Later he confessed that he had seen me around town before and resolved to meet and date me.
Richard was, at that time, working on a road construction job, but had no car. He would sometimes stop by the house to see me on a morning, on one of his runs, hauling dirt. This would irritate my mother.
Our nights out were mostly going to the movies, then to the ice cream parlor where all the young people gathered. Most of the time we walked to town, which was approximately a mile, then, take a taxi back home.
As the weeks passed, Richard became more ardent, proposing marriage. My acceptance, with the understanding that I graduate from high school first, brought forth endless pleas for an immediate marriage. After days of relentless pressure, I finally agreed to an elopement; but not until after I had approached my mom, to see if she would agree to Richard and I being engaged. She exploded! “Engaged,” she said, “The next thing, you will be wanting to get married.”
How true. Richard made all the arrangements to borrow a friend’s car for a weekend. His folks lived in Leonard, Missouri and were having a family reunion. This was the only time I ever lied to my mother. I explained that Rosella and her boyfriend would be with us and we would be with Richard’s family the entire time of the weekend. Mom was finally persuaded to allow me to be gone overnight.
At fifteen, I was pretty mature, but not enough to realize the responsibility, such as where we were going to live and how. This, never even entered our minds; it was never discussed.
August the seventh finally arrived; I could hardly suppress my excitement. We were finally on our way. Rosella riding up front with Richard and I, the owner of the roadster and his friend riding in the open jump seat in back. Rosella’s boyfriend, Jerry, was working for the railroad and we were to pick him up later in the evening at Bering, Missouri. So our first destination was Edina, Missouri where we secured the marriage license. I gave my age as 19 and was not questioned. Richard was 21. Then we proceeded to Bering, just a few miles away to await the arrival of the work train and Jerry Renner.
The work train was very late and it must have been around 10:00pm when Jerry stepped off that train. He was covered with black coal soot. Undaunted, we sped back to Edina and found the preacher’s house. We roused him from bed and explained our mission, asking for permission to tidy up and a place for Jerry to wash up.
Just before midnight August 7, 1937 the preacher pronounced us man and wife. This was the beginning of our many years together.
Waiting for the work train to arrive that day in Bering, Missouri, I discovered my monthly period had started. Having no money in my possession, I had to ask Richard for the money to purchase the sanitary napkins. Embarrassing as this was to me, I rationalized that in a few hours we would be wed and he would consequently be apprised of the situation.
Leaving Edina, after our marriage ceremony, we proceeded to Leonard, Missouri to Ben and Ella Hershey’s farm. This was Pop and Mom to Richard, as they had raised Richard as their own, from the time he was about 2 years old.
Upon arriving, Richard imparted them of our marriage and showed proof with the license and the ring. Needless to say, this was a total surprise to Ben and Ella.
Finally, being convinced, that we were truly married, Mom Hershey ushered us to one of the two upstairs bedrooms. Here began the final revelation into the intimate and sexual mysteries of the sexes.
The blood-stained bed sheets revealed two facts; virginity and non-pregnancy. Being married at fifteen, in our society in the 30’s usually meant a “Shotgun” wedding; in other words, a case of having to get married because of pregnancy.
The next morning, we arose to greet a houseful of people; relatives that had arrived in the early morning hours, as we slept. I can still remember that sea of faces crowded in the kitchen, with all eyes on me, curious and speculative.
That day passed in a blur of activity revolving around the crowd gathered for the reunion.
The time was fast approaching for our departure back to Fort Madison, Iowa. It was with fear and apprehension that we entered the duplex on our arrival, only to find no one there. Ready to face my parents immediately and get the ordeal behind us, we were then faced with more anxiety as we waited for them to come home.
Looking back on that day, I can still see the stunned look on their faces and recall the conversation that followed. Mom was so agitated and upset; she wanted Dad to have the marriage annulled. Dad on the other hand expressed the fact that the deed was done and we should make the best of it. So, we did finally get their blessing and their offer of help to get us started.
The 19th of August was Mom and Dad’s wedding anniversary, Dad’s birthday and his Dad and Mom’s wedding anniversary. It was nearly always celebrated near Kellogg, Missouri at Granddad’s farm. Relatives, friends and neighbors would gather with baskets of food to celebrate the occasion.
Our first trip back to Missouri, then, we also spent the night with Mom and Pop Hershey. After dark the noise began – a continuance of clanking pans, horns and banging. This was a “Shivaree,” an expression of well wishes by neighbors and friends in the area. The noise would continue until the married couple appeared at the door and invited all to enter. Light refreshment was then served and gifts would be presented to the bridal couple.
In the early weeks of our marriage, we stayed with Mom and Dad, oblivious to the necessity of establishing our own niche.
However, when the opportunity arrived, we eagerly accepted the challenge. Richard’s cousin Clyde and wife Zola owned their own dump truck and were taking their worldly possessions in same and heading for Clinton, Iowa. Construction work was available on a dam being built there. Richard having been unemployed since our marriage, arranged for us to accompany Clyde and Zola and their infant son. Where were we going to ride in this vehicle with only one seat? The answer was obvious – in the back of the dump box, atop a bed, nestled in among all the other household items. Imagine my mother’s reaction to this!
Pleading with me to reconsider this move, I adamantly continued packing our few personal belongings, explaining to Mom that eventually we had to make that first step.
Before daylight the next morning found Richard and I atop the dump truck, snuggled together, with a tarp covering us. This was truly adventure! With the wind howling in our ears and flapping the tarp we reached the end of our 160 odd miles destination.
A small town with the influx of construction workers was not prepared to house all the workers. Consequently, the five of us ended up in a small 2-room motel accommodation. As I recall, the bedroom was just wide enough to accommodate the two daybeds with perhaps about 6 inches between.
Within a week Richard and I found an apartment of our own – our very first. With the passing of days, I became very homesick. Perhaps being pregnant had some bearing on this. By this time, I was knowledgeable enough to know that when your period stopped – you were pregnant. Morning sickness was also a sure sign. There was no visit to a doctor. It was just an accepted fact and you prepared for it. This was part of my dream to be married and have my own babies, my own home.
I was going home on the train – we had no car and Richard, not wanting us to be separated went with me - end of job.
So, it was back to Mom and Dad’s until our next venture into the real world.
1938; during this time the WPA came into existence (a government program to provide work for the unemployed.) This was a godsend for us, and many others, as jobs were practically non-existent.
Richard’s uncle John and aunt Stella Cockrum and their three sons, Denver, Delmar and John (nicknamed Nugget) migrated here from Kansas. John, Denver, Delmar, and Richard found work, clearing underbrush and trees on an island in the Mississippi river. We all moved to Oakwood about 40 miles upriver from Fort Madison where the job was located. Unable to find suitable housing in this tiny town, our men were resourceful enough to obtain the use of an abandoned depot. Despite my utter shock of disbelief at my first sight of this incongruous building, it became quite livable. The main room, being the largest served as bedrooms, with beds on opposite sides; the boys on one side, Richard and I, on the other side. John and Stella occupied a small room, just large enough for a bed, and the other room was our kitchen.
These boys were so mischievous and loved to play pranks. Many nights our bed would collapse after having been sabotaged by these three musketeers. How they would laugh.
After a few weeks we managed to find a small 2-room apartment, which we occupied until the job ended. Bare wood floors, no curtains and orange crates for cupboards, but we were happy.
On one of our trips to Fort Madison to replenish more of our belongings resulted in a near fatal accident, John, Stella, Nugget and I were all crowded in the seat of John’s pickup, our only mode of transportation. We were all singing hymns, when apparently John fell asleep at the wheel, failing to negotiate the turn in the road. We flipped upside down, landing on the very edge of a deep ditch, our belongings scattered all over. One by one, each of us crawled out, relieved to find no one seriously injured. Being in my 8th month of pregnancy, everyone insisted I see a doctor. He confirmed my belief that everything was okay.
After the Oakwood job was terminated, the Cockrums traveled on to Michigan and Richard and I returned to my parents to await the arrival of our baby.
At about 7:00am on May 25, 1938 I awoke and upon arising, my water broke. This had been explained to me as being one of the signs, signaling the signs of labor. I never, at anytime, felt any fear, taking it for granted that it was a normal procedure. By 10:00am I was having minor cramps in the abdomen and the doctor was called.
A twin bed had been set up in the dining room, the bedrooms being upstairs. Richard’s aunt Alpha Hunsaker came to assist Mom and the doctor. Mom was nervous and Dad was pacing back and forth to the alley. I was pulling on Richard’s arms, and moaning.
Shortly after 12:30pm (noon) our first-born entered this world. A healthy boy weighing over 9 pounds (weight guessed at by Dr. Richmond.) We decided to name him Roland after Vertie’s betrothed, Roland Heath. I couldn’t wait to start taking care of him myself. Learning to bathe, feed and change him became the highlight of my days.
I was determined to be a good mother, disproving any thoughts that a 16-year-old was not mature enough to handle it.
Shortly after the birth of Roland, Richard, was hired by the WPA, making $52.00 a month. We were then able to rent a small mobile home from Richard’s Aunt Alpha for $4.00 a month. There was no inside plumbing. Our drinking water was carried by pails from the Hunsaker’s house about half a block away. A well with a hand pump furnished water for washing. Our toilet was the outhouse.
We ate a lot of fried potatoes and home canned green beans during this time and occasionally baked an egg-less chocolate cake for dessert.
On rare occasions we would get together with some of Richard’s cousins and visit the local bars. Mom would usually baby-sit Roland for us.
Somehow, we managed to buy a used car for $10.00 a month payments. By the time it was paid for, the WPA job came to a close.
In the meantime, Vertie had married Roland and moved to Michigan in October of 1938. Then the following year December 1939, Ben and Ellie sold out in Missouri and moved to Michigan near Plymouth.
Learning that the WPA job would be coming to an end, we had explored the possibility of leaving the area, seeking employment elsewhere. We were compelled to plan some kind of action.
So, about the first of May 1940, we piled the back seat of the car with everything we could pack in and started for Michigan with the final month’s paycheck to see us through.
Ben and Ellie had assured us we could stay with them to get started. They had rented a large room from John and Stella. So, we knew there would be a place for us, once we arrived.
But, it was not to be easy. Car trouble developed around Peoria, Illinois and after paying for the repairs, there was only about $12.00 left. Big decision – should we turn back or take our chances on having enough money to get us to Plymouth. We both felt this was our only chance to relocate – there was nothing back in Iowa for us. Besides, if we could get within 50 to 100 miles – some of the relatives there would rescue us.
But, we did make it on our own and even had almost $2.00 left.
Upon our arrival, instead of sharing Ellie and Ben’s living quarters, we were invited to share the upstairs apartment with John and Stella’s daughter, Mary, and her family. Everyone was willing to help the other in these trying times.
Ben and John had jobs at McDaugh’s greenhouse and in a few days, Richard was hired on, making $18.00 a week. After a couple paychecks we found a house to rent, which was shared by Ellie and Ben.
Ben’s brother Allen Hershey lived in Detroit and worked as a carpenter for National Twist Drill & Tool Company. With Allen’s help and recommendation, Richard applied for and got a job at the same place.
Joy, joy, things were looking up. Now the paychecks were averaging $65.00 every ten days! We were on top of the world. We sent money home to Mom and Dad to pay off debts left behind, such as the doctor, dentist and drugstore. It was a good feeling.
During this time, I was getting the urge to drive the car. While Roland was napping, I would get in the car, parked in the driveway, and learn to shift gears – going forward a few feet, then reversing. Sometimes, while visiting the Cockrum’s, Nugget would go with me on my practice runs down an old country road, where there was not much traffic.
In 1941 Twist Drill had moved their operation to a newly built plant in Rochester. It was time to move again.
This place was behind a larger house on Main Street and had at one time been a large garage with an upstairs. It had 2 bedrooms and a bath upstairs with kitchen and large living room on the main floor; linoleum on all floors.
In the meantime, my sister Goldie had married (2 years after me) Clarence (Bud) Land and they had a new baby Ed. And like the rest of us was seeking employment – there was nothing back in Iowa. So, Bud came first, got his job at National Twist Drill, stayed with us, until he had enough money to rent a place and send for Goldie and Ed.
Now, Ben applied for a job at Twist Drill and was hired on as a janitor. They moved from Plymouth to a rented house near the center of town. All was ideal.
Then disaster struck. First, December 7 – Japanese bombed Pearl Harbor. Then, December 26, 1941, Ben, waiting on his ride with a fellow worker decided to go on foot, thinking the driver might not show up. It was snowing and blowing hard by the time he approached the plant. Driving visibility was very poor and Ben was hit from behind and fatally injured. Ironically the driver involved was the one that had been giving him his rides to work. Ben died that day, never regaining consciousness.
By this time Vertie and Roland had moved out of their apartment in Detroit and bought a small house in Roseville. They promptly moved Mom Hershey in with them and built on a room for her.
In January 1942 I knew I was pregnant again and looked forward to another baby to love. That year we had bought our first new furniture on the time payment plan. A living room set and studio couch. Also, my first sewing machine, on which was made all the baby clothes. Tiny tucks and laces with hand embroidery, no boy ever received such a fancy layette – except, this baby was supposed to be a girl.
This pregnancy was treated differently – regular visits to the doctor with delivery in a hospital. Hospital and doctor insurance was part of the benefits most union workers had and very few doctors made house calls anymore.
My doctor was drafted in the service a couple of months before my due date. His wife, also a doctor, took over all his patients. It was she who delivered our second child – a 7-pound 13-ounce boy on October 2, 1942. Rodney was a happy and content baby.
Prior to Rodney’s arrival, Richard’s brother Leroy came to stay with us and ultimately get a job at National Twist Drill. As I recall he was about 18 at that time.
Then Richard’s Dad, John came - also to find employment at N. T. Drill.
When Rodney was 6 weeks old, we made a trip back to Fort Madison to see my folks and to bring Alta, John’s (Richard’s dad’s) wife and son John back to Michigan with us. They had come from Norman, Oklahoma and had visited Alta’s family in Missouri before meeting us in Fort Madison.
Imagine my surprise when arriving home, we found J. W. and Mildred and their baby Darlene. Richard’s Dad had called them to come, while we were gone. They also lived in Oklahoma. So now, all the clan was in Michigan, with the exception of Clarence, who had enlisted in the Navy. Leroy had been drafted in the army during this period.
J.(James) W., Leroy, Clarence and John, all children of Richard’s Dad by his second wife Alta. Richard’s mother Nellie Crockrum having died when Richard was about 2 years old. With no means of caring for a small child, Richard’s Dad gave him to Nellie’s older sister Ellie Hershey. Ellie had been caring from him during Nellie’s sickness. Ellie and Ben had only one child, Vertie, who was about 15 at that time.
Our home was bulging at the seams with so many people in this little house. The beds were never empty; someone working at different shifts constantly.
In a short time, however, John and Alta found an upstairs apartment in downtown Rochester, over a grocery store. And J.W. and Mildred moved in with them - J. W. meanwhile also getting hired in at N. T. Drill. They eventually found their own apartment.
We spent many happy Sundays with all of them in their apartment, playing table tennis on their dining room table.
Financially we were doing well and managed to buy a new Studebaker - our first new car. With the war going on, car production came to a halt, so we had a valuable asset. When Rodney was about 11 months old, we sold the car - got as much for it as we had paid. We then made a down payment on a ten-acre parcel with a small house on it at Leonard, MI - about 20 miles north of Rochester; our first house.
No inside plumbing and the house, not big enough for a family of four. So, with a lot of hard labor (sometimes with help from family and friends) we proceeded to put a basement under it. Being on a hillside, it was a walk-in basement, which was actually going to be our kitchen and bathroom with a small storage room or pantry. Stairs went up one side to the bedrooms and living room. Today, they call these dwellings bi-level.
Nearing the war’s end in ’45, Richard was drafted into the army and stationed in Fort Leonardwood, Missouri.
Like many other service wives, I had to now rely on my own resources. No income except that provided by the GI’s pay for family. I think, at this time, is when I really became my own person. Managing to subsist on the meager income keeping up the $30.00 monthly payments on our place and putting food on the table, showed me that I really could make it on my own.
Always in the past I had let others influence my thinking and my decisions.
This was also a lonely time for me, with Richard gone. The only time we were ever separated. He was as homesick - every letter wanted me to somehow secure his release. The war was over and he was much more in need at home. So, after a few letters from me and Hirum Terry, a businessman at that time, we secured his release and he was let go six months after his induction.
Midway through this 6-month period, Richard’s Uncle Cliff Hunsaker had a stroke, I believe, and Vertie and Ellie went to Fort Madison to help Aunt Alpha care for him. His condition worsened and he was taken to Iowa City to the hospital there. The family contacted the Red Cross and got leave time for Richard to come there.
Knowing this was no time for children to be around, I asked our next-door neighbor Vera and Lester Ashmun if they could keep the boys so I could join Richard in Fort Madison.
Roland Heath was to come after me and we would go together. It was night when he arrived and both boys were asleep when we deposited them at our neighbors.
So much happening so fast, I didn’t stop to realize how this could frighten two little boys, awaking in someone else’s bed and no Mommy there.
Recalling this time so many years ago it must have been about a week there together; then his Uncle’s death and the funeral. And then back to the way we were.
I can remember getting our old ‘34 Chevrolet loaded up and ready to travel. I was taking the boys and going to Fort Leonardwood, but just then got the word; Richard was on his way home.
Roland, Vertie, I and the boys met his train in Detroit that day.
One by one the guys - Bud Land, Clarence, and Leroy all came home.
Goldie had gone back to Iowa with her two children to stay with family while Bud was gone and had her third child, John, while there.
Clarence came back and fell in love with Shirley Ashmun (our neighbor) and married later.
Chapter 10
Our life settled into a quite routine and we purchased an adjoining 10 acres to our north. We now had 20 acres and Richard being a farm boy at heart had to have a cow, some pigs and a few chickens.
Richard worked the afternoon shift – mostly by choice. He didn’t like getting up at 5:00am. So, that meant I had to learn how to milk a cow. I did but I wasn’t crazy about it.
I still had dreams of having a little girl to complete our family. And finally, I did get pregnant and on August 8th, 1949 Rama Lee entered this world at 8 pounds 13 ounces; my dream come true.
It was these years after the war that Richard’s Dad and Alta bought a farm east of Leonard. Mildred and JW and their brood and Richard and I and the boys would all gather there on Sundays and spend the day together. It was on such a Sunday that I told them the news that I was pregnant. Five months along and nobody could tell it. Clothes camouflaged a lot, I guess.
My Mom and Dad came and stayed to take care of the family while I recuperated. I enjoyed each of my babies so much – having them so far apart, I could lavish them with more attention.
With the boys though, it did create more of a problem. Being the oldest by almost 5 years it was natural for Richard to give Roland more latitude and responsibility. It was hard for Rodney being in his brother’s shadow.
They had some good times playing and running on our little hills; Johnie Spezia – Mary Thompson and her two nephews Gary Meisner and his brother.
I was getting restless – so many women going to work in factories, helping out financially. I started out doing housework at $1.00 an hour for a rich couple down the road. Then later picked up potatoes for John Spezia (potato farmer and friend.)
After that Johnie’s wife Marie and I went to Paul Travis Turkey Farm near Lakeville and went to work there. It was seasonal and over with by Thanksgiving.
In meantime Goldie had applied and gotten a job at the paper mill in Rochester and told us they were hiring. So, Marie and I applied and went to work there.
All my life, up to this point, had been subtly persuaded by others – mainly Aunt Ellie; a sweet person and a good mother-in-law. Everyone loved her, including me, but she did have a way of manipulating me. She tried hard to keep me home.
But in this, I was determined to start making my own decision, I felt I had to make a stand to be me!
By this time Roland was almost 17, Rodney almost 13 and Rama past 4 years ready to go to school.
Chapter 11
Richard was becoming more dissatisfied. He wanted a real farm. This became his dream. I was not that excited about it but decided he should have the chance to pursue it.
So, we traded our 20 acres to the couple that owned the 160 acres on Lakeville Road. We made the decision to go with dairy farming in order to have a regular income.
The barn was equipped with stanchions for the cows and we proceeded to accumulate our herd.
I loved the big old house. Huge rooms and lots of bedrooms, more room than I ever dreamed of.
However, there was no central heat and two space oil heaters were used to heat the house; hardly adequate for such a big house.
Everyone would crowd around the heaters to dress early in the mornings.
During this time, we all worked hard to keep the farm going. There was not much time for fun and games.
Richard worked most times one shift at his job and I on another. This way our family was always supervised by either Richard or me.
More land was rented to raise crops to feed the cows and we had a succession of young teenage boys to help with the chores.
The laundry for all of us was a huge task that I managed to somehow keep up with. The purchase of an ironer helped tremendously to accomplish all the ironing.
Mom Hershey came at intervals to stay with us a few weeks at a time - had been doing this for years after Pop had passed away.
This time changed her life - we happened to be home when she collapsed. The doctor was called out immediately (they still made house calls then). She had a stroke and was left paralyzed on one side and unable to walk.
We set up a bed in the big living room and Vertie came to care for her mother.
I can remember the Cockrums all came; her brother John and family. We all sat in the kitchen and discussed the situation.
They all wanted me to quit my job and stay home to care for her. They used all kinds of persuasion - promising to reimburse me for the lost job. However, naïve as I was, I knew that in a few short weeks the promises would mean nothing.
So, I adamantly refused to do what they asked. For one thing, there was Vertie, no children, didn’t work outside the home. What was wrong with her taking care of her Mom?
This was another turning point in my life that I had to take a stand.
So, between us we saw that Mom Hershey was never neglected.
I took a 3-month leave of absence to stay home with her - giving Vertie a break.
But even then, Vertie never did it alone. They always had a hired lady to take care of Mom. Mom Hershey was back and forth from Vertie’s to our place. And when I was back to work, we had a lady to come and stay.
Mary Brown - she had a husband. They had a trailer and had our permission to move it on the farm. And her husband worked for us too.
Mom Hershey resented Mary because Mary would help do things around the house - she was supposed to just attend to her!
These busy years on the farm made for more dissension between our sons. We suddenly realized that Rodney was a young man now and different arrangements had to be made to give him his rightful place in the area of management and responsibility.
Trying to do the right thing and be fair to our children was a most upper part of our conscience, while still pursuing our dreams.
Rodney and Rama both went to our little 8 grade school house on the corner of our farm.
Our Sundays on the farm were never spent alone. It was the favorite gathering place for all the relatives.
We had a trotter horse named Miss Copper and of course all the kids would ride her, fighting for their turn.
We had several mishaps during our few years on the farm.
One incident when Richard had been working on one of the cars and had it jacked up - off the wheels. Had come back to it next day and didn’t notice the hoist was gone. While underneath working, the car fell on him pinning him. No one else home at the time. But as luck would have it a fellow came by for one reason or another and heard Richard yelling. He got Richard out with John’s help - he had called him. The earth was soft - saved him from serious injury. John took him to the hospital, where he stayed until they determined no serious injuries.
Another time when just the boys, Rama and I were there, I was standing at the sink washing my hair. Saw Rodney running up the road to the house. I instantly knew something was terribly wrong. Rama and I met him in the yard. “The tractor turned over on Roland,” he said.
I was frantic - didn’t know what to do. Knew the neighbor where the tractor was, was not home. So started running west to neighbors there, screaming all the way. We jumped in their car and headed for the tractor. When we got there, all I could see was the tractor, a dump truck and a bunch of people. I was sure he was dead. Never heard of anyone living when a tractor turned over on them. Then Roland was hugging me and saying he was okay.
The truck had come by in that short time and pulled it off Roland. I guess the steering wheel was positioned in such a way - keeping the load from crushing him. What a traumatic time! No wonder my hair literally turned white over night.
And then, I didn’t know until later that Rodney had been riding on the tow bar and had been thrown out in the road.
God was looking out for us that day too.
Richard wanted to enlarge the herd so we purchased 50 head of registered Holsteins from Canada. This was the beginning of the end to our farming. Our best cows came down with T. B. and had to be destroyed. Actually, I think they had it when we bought them. We never had a problem ‘til then.
Then one night a rented barn with all our hay caught fire and burned to the ground. We suspected arson but could never find a clue. No insurance and no feed for the stock.
All our paychecks were being funneled into the farming operation. Tractors and implements to pay for, plus wages to pay. The milk checks too went and now the herd of cows to pay for through the bank.
It was time to give it up! We were throwing good money after bad- getting nowhere.
So, we held an auction - sold everything pertaining to the farm and were $3,000 in debt. But oh, what a relief!
We stayed on the farm for a year or more, thinking someday a developer would come along and buy us out.
Roland was 21 and had been dating of course for several years. Then he met Karen Eriksen and they were married May 8th 1959.
In December of ’59, Mom Hershey passed away.