Stories Written By
Rochus "Rock" Leier Jr. (aka) Sonnyboy
I was in the US Marine Corps...on active duty from 1953 thru 1955 and on reserve duty from 1955 thru 1960. I was a co-pilot/radar operator in the Third Marine Air Wing division. The year mother had a heart attack I was stationed at the US Marine Corps, El Toro Marine Air Base, Santa Ana, California
preparing to go to Korea in the fall of 1955 when the war ended. Dad contacted the Red Cross to inform me of Mother’s condition. When my captain heard about Mother, he offered to fly me to the Minot Air Force base. As we were flying over the Rocky Mountains, we lost all the oil out of our engine "we only had one engine". The captain announced that the protocol was for everyone to bail out. We were over the highest part of the mountains covered with over 15 feet of soft snow and over 40 degrees below zero. We all decided to stay with the plane. The Cheyenne Air Base told us to try to get to their base and they would foam the runway and line it with fire trucks and ambulances (believe me that was no comfort). Just as we got to the base our engine stalled and we had a very hard landing. God spared us, we did not catch fire and we walked away from the destroyed plane.
preparing to go to Korea in the fall of 1955 when the war ended. Dad contacted the Red Cross to inform me of Mother’s condition. When my captain heard about Mother, he offered to fly me to the Minot Air Force base. As we were flying over the Rocky Mountains, we lost all the oil out of our engine "we only had one engine". The captain announced that the protocol was for everyone to bail out. We were over the highest part of the mountains covered with over 15 feet of soft snow and over 40 degrees below zero. We all decided to stay with the plane. The Cheyenne Air Base told us to try to get to their base and they would foam the runway and line it with fire trucks and ambulances (believe me that was no comfort). Just as we got to the base our engine stalled and we had a very hard landing. God spared us, we did not catch fire and we walked away from the destroyed plane.
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Harvest time...Dad used to talk about the threshing crews that did the harvest throughout the whole area. The threshing machine was so big and the steam engines so big and powerful that only one or two farmers had a rig. They would start threshing in late July and keep on going until late October. The rig in this picture was called a "cook car". The young women in each family would provide five meals a day for these crews: breakfast, mid morning lunch, noon lunch, mid afternoon lunch and evening supper. The young men in each family would provide the man power to do the heavy work of harvesting the wheat, oats, barley and rye fields. The reason for so many meals is that when you work 12 to 14 hour days in the 90 degree temperatures that frequent North Dakota summers, you need a lot of food and a lot of water to not only keep up your strength, but just to survive as well. I was 16 years old working on the fall harvest so I have some experience with it, my older brother James did a lot more than I did. I was very happy when dad purchased a combine before I turned 17. No more threshing after that.
During the winter of 1951...I was doing chores at home on the farm. One Saturday afternoon in midwinter I was in the barn bedding down the animals getting ready to do the evening milking. The weather forecast was for a big storm to hit our area that night but it was already blowing and snowing and very cold. The big front barn door suddenly opened and in walked 2 young farmers, they were brothers who lived about 6 or 7 miles south of our farm. They informed me that their car was stuck in the snow about 2 miles north of our place. I agreed to get my horses ready and go and pull them out after I finished with my chores. Then it dawned on me that both of these guys had young wives and children and learned they were all back in their car, freezing. I quickly got the horses ready and hitched to a sled. Ma gave us a bunch of blankets and when we got to the car the wives and kids were almost in hypothermia because the storm had hit with full fury. We got them all back safely to our farm and they stayed with us the next day until the storm subsided.
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In 1944...Dad bought the big white barn that stands on the farmstead today. It was first constructed on the O.J. Nelson farm located about 1 1/2 miles west of Maddock. Dad hired a moving company out of Harvey (I think). There is a slough (ravine) about 4 miles west of Maddock and this moving guy tried to slide the barn across this wet slough without building a bridge. It didn’t work and he almost tipped the barn over when the right front wheel dropped into a large hole. Dad fired him and hired a moving company out of New Rockford. This guy knew what he was doing and after building a temporary bridge and pulling it across the slough, down the road he went. It took all day to move the last 7 miles to the farm. Uncle John Leier was in charge of pulling the telephone wires down and laying them on the road so the barn could be moved past the telephone line. Rural electricity did not come through our area until 1946. After building a new, wide approach they finally got it into the farmyard and located it at its present site.
During the last year of World War II...Dad had a fairly large beef herd. All those animals were kept during the summer in a large pasture about 2 miles west of the farm. Don and I usually had the job of walking the fence line to make sure the wire and posts were all intact. We also checked the pond periodically to make sure it had adequate water. We also checked to see if any of the calves were missing, as some animal was killing our calves. One day as Don and I were at the watering hole we noticed a bunch of puppy dogs on the top of a small hill adjacent to the pond. The pups were playing and running in and out of a large hole on the hill. That night we told dad about the “puppies” by watering hole. The next day Dad raced to the hill where we saw the “puppies”. He notified the county game warden and together they captured 8 grey wolf puppies. To my knowledge they never caught the mother wolf that obviously was killing our calves.
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In the 1940’s...Rich Valley Rural School was still in session. We were getting quite modern in those days; we even had school busses for all the kids, all except Mina Stevens. She lived on her dad’s farm 2 or 3 miles off the beaten path located on a bluff in the coulee about 6 or 7 miles south of Esmond. Her dad had outfitted her with a one-horse open shay as her transportation back and forth to school. One winter day in the late 1940’s the weather bureau had issued a storm warning so school was let out early. All the busses came to take the kids home, all except Mina, she hitched up her little strawberry roan horse to the sled and off she went. That evening, the telephones started ringing off the hook (our phone system was the kind where everyone was on the same line) – Mina didn’t make it home and was apparently lost in the storm. Dad and some other farmers hitched up their horses to their sleds to help find her. Dad had a large spot light powered by his car battery. Some of the others had similar lights. Mina had unhitched her horse and let him go home so he wouldn’t get bogged in the snow and die. The storm was fierce so it took them most of the night before they finally found her. Mina had many blankets in her sled for just such an emergency and got under them and went to sleep, safe, warm and snug.
Saturday, March 15, 1940...was a beautiful early spring day in Esmond. The forecast was for some windy weather and occasional snow showers. Dad and Ma had plans to go to Esmond to see a special display in a railroad car. There was no snow on the ground so the weather worries were minimal. Ma insisted that the troublemaker, Sonnyboy, and Don go with them. About 4 o’clock in the afternoon, the wind picked up and the snow began to fall. Dad and Ma didn’t appear to be in a hurry to start for home, we only lived 4 ½ miles from town. Then all hell broke loose. The wind picked up to 40 to 50 miles per hour. The temperature suddenly dropped to near zero and it was snowing and blowing so hard it was hard to see across the street. Some of the farmers started out for home. Dad and Ma decided they should also start for home. We got as far as the one mile curve just south of town. There we came upon three farmers in the ditch and the cars filled with crying and wailing mothers and children. The snow and wind was so horrific that it was impossible to see or walk. The men picked our car up and turned it around and everyone piled in and on our car or walked along side. It seemed to me it took hours to get back to Esmond and shelter from the storm. Everyone made it safely. We all gained a new respect for North Dakota storms.
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In the late 1930’s... the Rochus Leier Sr. family consisted of Dad, Ma, Patty, James, Rochus Jr., Don and Dorothy. Eunice may have been a baby but I don’t think she was born as yet. Dad had a 1932 Chevy with a “battery from hell”. That means when that car wanted to start, it would start, otherwise it wouldn’t. One day Dad wanted to go to Esmond for parts or something like that. The car wouldn’t start. James was only about 8 or 9 at the time so Dad had Ma lead one of Dad’s very large horses by the halter to pull and start the car. Ma wasn’t the most athletic person so as she was leading that very large horse, it stepped on her foot and crushed it. After some cursing and swearing by Dad, he finally got the car started and carted Ma off to Esmond to have Doc O’hare put her foot in a cast and give her a crutch to walk on for the next 4 months. So here was our heroic Mother with 5 kids under 10 years old, a house to keep with all the chores that went with that occupation, a demanding husband to placate, a garden to tend, and cows to milk. So, you think you have it rough??
Getting my Top Secret Clearance...My parents were Rochus Sr. and Helen Leier of rural Esmond, North Dakota. They farmed for over 40 years at that location and upon retirement passed the operation on to one of my younger brothers. My father passed away in October of 2,000 and my mother in September of 2,000. In November of 1953, I joined the United States Marine Corp and served for 2 years on active duty during the Korean War and 7 additional years on reserve duty after the war. After my active military service I enrolled in the Engineering curriculum at the University of Colorado. Upon completion of this study, I worked in Minneapolis for 2 different manufacturing firms. In 1965 I was hired and employed by the E. F. Johnson Co., an Engineering and Manufacturing division of Western Union, located in Waseca in Southern Minnesota. I was employed as an Engineering Manager working on defense contracts. This company had recently secured a Top Secret project which required each participating employee to apply for a Secret Clearance, yours truly included. One afternoon at that workplace, I was summoned to a meeting room by the CEO of that firm (2,500 employees with an annual sales volume of over $500,000,000). I give those statistics because the CEO never comes to meetings of this nature, so I knew something apparently significant was afoot. When I entered the room I was introduced to 2 men with black suits, white shirts and black ties and stern looks on their faces. The first guy was introduced as Mr. Smith (I don’t remember his name) with the FBI. The second man was introduced as Mr. Jones (ditto on the name) with the Department of the Treasury. The CEO then sat down and the Treasury Agent took over. He didn’t beat around the bush. He blurted out, “When is the last time you had contact with Ms. Elmira Leinz (I don’t remember her name either).” I told the agents that I had never heard that name before. The FBI agent put a little smirk on his face and said, “Really now Mr. Leier, this is a close relative of yours we are talking about and you are telling us you have never heard of her?” After a little more bantering, the 2 agents abruptly got up, left the meeting room, scampered out of the building, jumped in their car and left town. After some discussion with the CEO and other officers in the company I learned that the Agents told them Ms. Leinz was a first cousin to my father and presently serving time in Alcatraz, a federal prison for convicted felons. She and her cohorts were a ring of thieves who stole and then sold guns and liquor. They did all of this during the “Prohibition” era which was during the 1920’s and 1930’s here in the United States. I learned later that this whole event came about because I had applied for a Top Secret Clearance to work on a top secret project. I eventually was confirmed with a Top secret clearance. I really wanted to ask my father about Ms. Leinz but we were living in Southern Minnesota and he lived in central North Dakota which was a nine hour drive away - one way. So the next time I visited with Dad I “grilled” him about our notorious “cousin.” His response was a typical “Rochus Leier” answer - you didn’t know much more after the question than you did before. He did say that most of the relatives who knew of this lady were embarrassed so they never talked much about her escapades. If there is a moral to this story it probably is the old adage which says; “You can select your friends but you can’t choose your relatives.”
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My father, Rochus Leier Sr...who farmed south of Esmond was always looking for good work horses to augment his existing teams. An adjacent farmer came by one day in the late Spring of 1938 and asked dad if he was interested in purchasing a young matched three year old team of fairly aggressive Arabian mares. He told the guy that he would very much like to try them out. Dad had a 20 acre field of oats that needed raking. He had mowed the field a couple of days earlier and had recently purchased a brand new green John Deere dump rake complete with sparkling yellow steel wheels. The farmer brought the team of Arabians to our farm and dad hitched them to the rake. He had instructed a young man how to operate the team, dump the rake, and then sent them off to rake the field of mowed oats. The field was about one half mile away from the farm and was accessed by an approach off the county road that separated the farm from the field. The young man drove the horses pulling the rake to the field and began the process of raking. For some reason something spooked the team of aggressive young Arabians and they set off for the farm on a dead run. Not being able to control the horses, the young man sensing nothing but trouble ahead slowly rolled off the back of the dump rake into a pile of raked oat hay. The horses meanwhile had picked up steam as they headed straight for a gate made of barbwire. In unison they jumped over the barbwire gate, rake in tow, and headed straight for the windmill situated in the middle of the farm yard. There was a watering tank next to the windmill and when the horses got close they proceeded to jump that watering tank as well. The windmill and watering tank were at the front end of a small pasture. By this time, Dad’s new dump rake was almost totally demolished. When the horses reached the end of the pasture they stopped to rest and munch on some succulent grass. Dad rounded up the two broncos and took them back to the adjacent farmer explaining their most recent exploits and because of this had no further use for them. He gathered up his new rake, which now was nothing more than a pile of twisted steel and hauled it to the machinery dealer in Esmond doing his best to describe what happened. Based on recent history I think the moral of the story is to be wary of aggressive young Arabians.
In the spring of 1937...the farmers of the Midwest were hoping that the long drought would be at an end. Carl Stevens of rural Esmond was busy preparing his fields for spring planting. An accident occurred that day to Carl’s youngest daughter, Mina, who was just 4½ years old at the time. The following is a synopsis of that ordeal in her own words...
“My 11 ½ year old brother was riding on our disk to give it some weight because dad had not yet tied stones on top. My ten year old brother joined him as did my seven year old sister. Not to be left out I ran after them hoping to jump on the disk when they slowed down and turned the corner. Not realizing what I was doing I walked in front of the disk and fell underneath that machine. Those big sharp disks ran over me cutting deep slices in my head and face. My siblings screamed loud so dad could hear them; he stopped and picked the disk up off me. They carried me to the house and removed my clothes and then wrapped me in a sheet. Dad put me in his Model A Ford and raced to the Rugby hospital about 45 miles north of our farm. The doctors worked furiously over me, not expecting me to survive. I was in the Rugby hospital for three weeks. Then they took me to a private hospital in Minot where I underwent a number of reconstructive surgeries. My jaw was broken so it had to be wired shut. I lost sight out of my right eye and developed a large scar on the left side of my face and chin. As I began school the next year, the deformities to my face earned me the nick name of ‘old scar face’ from my classmates. All of this ridicule made me a ‘loner’ and an introvert.”
Rock notes: I went to grade school with Mina for 8 years at the Rich Valley rural school south of Esmond and 4 years of high school at the Benson County Agriculture and Training School in Maddock. Through this association I discovered that Mina is very intelligent and a sharp lady. She went on to get married, gave birth to 3 children and became a Registered Nurse. Now retired, she lives close to some of her children and enjoys the beauty of the Pacific Northwest in the State of Washington.
“My 11 ½ year old brother was riding on our disk to give it some weight because dad had not yet tied stones on top. My ten year old brother joined him as did my seven year old sister. Not to be left out I ran after them hoping to jump on the disk when they slowed down and turned the corner. Not realizing what I was doing I walked in front of the disk and fell underneath that machine. Those big sharp disks ran over me cutting deep slices in my head and face. My siblings screamed loud so dad could hear them; he stopped and picked the disk up off me. They carried me to the house and removed my clothes and then wrapped me in a sheet. Dad put me in his Model A Ford and raced to the Rugby hospital about 45 miles north of our farm. The doctors worked furiously over me, not expecting me to survive. I was in the Rugby hospital for three weeks. Then they took me to a private hospital in Minot where I underwent a number of reconstructive surgeries. My jaw was broken so it had to be wired shut. I lost sight out of my right eye and developed a large scar on the left side of my face and chin. As I began school the next year, the deformities to my face earned me the nick name of ‘old scar face’ from my classmates. All of this ridicule made me a ‘loner’ and an introvert.”
Rock notes: I went to grade school with Mina for 8 years at the Rich Valley rural school south of Esmond and 4 years of high school at the Benson County Agriculture and Training School in Maddock. Through this association I discovered that Mina is very intelligent and a sharp lady. She went on to get married, gave birth to 3 children and became a Registered Nurse. Now retired, she lives close to some of her children and enjoys the beauty of the Pacific Northwest in the State of Washington.
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I was always fascinated with stories about Grandma Leier... She was this super woman who could do anything even though she only stood about 5 ft, 2 in. and weighed at the most 100 lbs. soaking wet. When I was quite young I remember on occasion Ma going to Esmond and bringing Grandma out to the farm to help with the canning or some other labor-intensive chores. I remember her looking at Mother and then at her brood of little kids and shaking her head while saying, “Aramas Kinder.” I wasn’t too good with the German language at that time, but I know that meant something like, “Oh those poor little children.” She would never answer a question from us kids asked in English, it always had to be in German. She tried to get us to believe she couldn’t speak or understand English. One day our Norwegian neighbor, Mrs. Oksendahl, came over to visit while Grandma was there and low and behold, Grandma spoke perfect fluent English. Don and I looked at each other with amazement, our mouths hanging wide open. We never again spoke to her in German.
My Dad, Rochus Leier Sr., of rural Esmond was an avid horse lover... During the late 30’s and early 40’s he owned a stable of work and riding horses. For us, tractors were still a novelty. Our riding horses were for show and pleasure. The work horses were for pulling the one horse corn cultivator, drawing the stone boat full of manure and numerous other jobs that are today taken care of by tractors. “Babe” was the best looking mare among the work crew. She was half Percheron and half Belgium. Her coat was a beautiful gray/blue color with a near white mane and tail. She also enjoyed the top pecking order position among the work horses. All the other horses gave way to her. Dad was always on the lookout for another gray/blue mare to match up with Babe. One day he found Bailey, a perfect match with only one small hitch, Bailey also thought she was on top of the pecking order. Putting those two together was like trying to mix oil and water. Every time Dad would try to put them together they would kick and bite each other until they were both raw. He didn’t give up however; one day he was putting a harness on Bailey and started to harness Babe who was occupying the same two horse stall. As Dad walked between them, Bailey decided this would be a good time to kick Babe in the gut. Unfortunately, Dad’s left leg was in that position and when the kick came he went flying. Doc. O’Hare of Esmond determined that Dad’s left shinbone was cracked and splintered. He was on crutches for the rest of the summer. Bailey found a new home.
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During the late 1930's...When we were still a family of 5 or 6, one of our favorite annual “Fun Days” was taking a trip to the Wells County Free fair in Fessenden in mid-summer. Dad would watch for the flyer to come in the newspaper that announced the coming of the fair with a schedule of events. We always went the day the horse races took place. That was my favorite activity and apparently was Dad’s as well. We would sit in the bleachers and yell and cheer for all the ponies as they raced by our seats. After the horse races, we would head for the carnival rides. The Merry-go-round and Tilt-a-whirl were our rides of choice, although Ma wouldn’t hear of any talk about going on the Ferris wheel, it was too high and too dangerous. Then came the fair food. We always got one item of food and one drink. What a treat! The last activity before heading home, were the displays and 4H animals. Here is where we usually met up with old friends and relatives. Besides Christmas, this was always the best day of the year.
After World War II...when the young men began to return from fighting overseas, most of them left home to find a vocation in a large metropolitan area where jobs were more plentiful. One of the boys who did not leave, lived south of Esmond about 10 miles and had purchased a very fast and very “sporty” car. He usually drove to Esmond at least three or four days a week. He would pass our farm, the Rochus Leier Sr. place, on the way driving at a very brisk pace. One evening as he was returning to his farm, he came to our place, and we were herding some feeder cattle down the road to our farm from a north pasture. He was driving too fast to stop so when he saw my brother and me on the road, he made the decision to turn and drive down the ditch into the slough rather than kill or injure us. The road was quite high, at least 20 feet, so his car literally flew into that slough. Because it was very wet and soggy ground, his car did not sustain much damage and he was not hurt either. As this scenario unfolded, we scampered off the road and up into an adjacent field. After the crash, when the young man did not come up out onto the road we were worried that he got injured so we went down into the slough to see how he was. To our relief, there he was walking around up to his knees in mud looking for something. It seems while he was in Europe during the war, he had purchased a very expensive diamond studded Swiss watch and when his car hit bottom in the slough the watch flew off his arm and into the mud. He came back to the crash site many times before he finally found his watch. He drove much slower past our place after that.
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Rural electricity...didn’t come to the farm until after WW II (1946 as I remember) which meant we didn’t have a refrigerator to keep food safe and edible. Not to worry, Ma and Dad were very ingenious people (like all the other farm families). Ten feet below the surface, the ground temperature in central North Dakota stays at about 45 to 50 degrees, year round. Ma used this to keep her food safe by hanging containers of food in the well water under the windmill which was about 15 feet deep. The wood casing that lined the inside of the well had a ladder attached to it in case something or somebody fell down into the well. They attached a round broom handle (or something like that) to the sides of the casing and tied ropes or twine to the broom handle on one end and containers of food on the other end. They would then dangle the containers in the water at the bottom of the well thus keeping it cool and edible. Tricky huh?
When the young men came home from World War II...they eagerly began the process of getting married, finding jobs and living life. It was tough for many of them because the jobs were few and far between. Most of the farm families were quite large but only one or two of the boys could succeed their fathers at running the farm, the rest had to look for other things to do. Some of them turned to alcohol and other destructive pursuits. One of the young men from the rural Esmond community became a drunkard. He would race his car down the gravel highways at breakneck speeds. One day he was returning from Maddock heading toward his father’s farm four miles south of Esmond. He was drunk and going almost 100 miles per hour. As he neared a farm which was 8 miles west of Maddock, he came upon a farmer and his sons herding over a dozen dairy cows and an equal number of younger livestock down the gravel road going from their pasture heading toward their dairy barn. The young man obviously didn’t see the animals until he was right on top of them. He plowed into them seriously injuring 12 cows. His car was totally demolished. He got out of his mangled car and just stood looking dazed. Later, the investigation showed his speedometer was stuck on 100 mph. After the farm family put the injured animals down, they immediately began butchering the 12 cows. A number of neighboring farmers came and helped with the butchering process. A year to two later, the Benson County highway department installed a sign close to that farm that read... CAUTION: Cows on road.
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Grandpa Becker died in 1940...Grandma lived alone in her home in Selz for the next few years. She was really lonesome so Patty, James and I would take turns going to Selz to stay with her for a week at a time in the summer when there wasn't any school. Grandma would come to our place for a few weeks at a time and to Ma's older sister's (I don't remember her name) in Harvey after that. Then Grandma had a devastating stroke and lost her hearing and could no longer speak in a coherent manner. When she recovered sufficiently she would come to live with us and alternate with her other daughter. She eventually went to the nursing home in Harvey. I left home to join the Marines during that time and was not home when she died. That's the time line to the best of my memory.
In the late 1930’s Teddy the dog came to live with us...He was a mixture of bulldog and about 20 other breeds, I think. Teddy was a buddy to all of us kids. He was black and white in color, about the size of a black lab, had a pug face and was very friendly. Dad had taught him to run a mile down the pasture and herd the cows home every morning and evening at milking time. What was interesting, Teddy always obeyed dad, but wouldn’t lift a leg for us kids. When he was a pup, he would chase my little sisters around the yard pulling at their diapers. Dorothy and Eunice had quite a time with Teddy over that. Teddy totally hated the mail man and his car. He would lie in wait every morning until that mail car came in sight and off he would go nipping at the cars tires. One early winter morning the road was very icy and Teddy ran so fast to get to the mail car, he couldn’t stop and was run over. His injuries were nearly fatal, but Dad bound him up and eventually he recovered and pulled through. Teddy never chased another car again after that.
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The people who lived during the 1930’s experienced one of the worst recessions in US history... It was so deep and lasted so long that the media and government named it the “Great Depression.” These people also lived through the worst drought in the history of our country. It was so dry and lasted so long it became known as the “Dirty Thirties.” My parents, Rochus and Helen Leier of rural Esmond, were married and started farming just as this recession and drought began. Even though many farmers went bankrupt and had to quit farming, my parents stuck it out and made it through. Then in 1940 the rains came and the crops looked good. Toward the end of July of that year, my dad decided that the 160 acre field of wheat two miles north of the farm was ready for harvest. He hired a man to operate his “binder.” He hitched four horses to the machine and prepared to cut the wheat into bundles so they could be shocked. Then suddenly a huge thunderstorm appeared in the northwest. It looked ominous so dad unhitched the horses and put them in the barn. Meanwhile we all went into the basement of our house to wait out the storm. It was nasty and lasted for almost an hour, but when it was over dad took his car and drove to the field of wheat only to find that a hailstorm had flattened the entire 160 acres. It was another devastating blow to withstand; after nearly 10 years of recession and drought, the hail was just one more obstacle to overcome. There would always be more fields to harvest.
During World War II...most of the young able-bodied men in our community were drafted into the Army. That left our farmers in trouble when fall harvest time came around. The government understood this problem, so they put a call out to older men all over the USA to come to North Dakota and other Northern States to help with the harvest. One of the guys that came to work for Dad said his name was “Hatchet Stubblefield.” Hatchet was a middle-aged man from Mississippi and was quite a storyteller. One day he asked if any bull frogs lived in the slough out behind our farmstead. We told him there were a lot of frogs down there. He said that if the legs of these little critters were fried, they tasted just like chicken legs. Ma said she wasn’t going to have any frogs in her house. Hatchet said he would catch them, cut off the legs and fry them outside of the house. He did just that, we had a feast that night, and they did indeed taste just like chicken.
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Mother was the youngest of five children...born fifteen years after the second youngest child, his name was Karl (these are my calculations anyway). When Mother would talk about Karl, she would always get tears in her eyes. According to her, he would play with her and take her for walks, they were best buddies. When Karl was about 14 years old he contacted Typhoid Fever and died. Mother was devastated. Grandpa Becker, Mother’s Dad, was my favorite. She talked a lot about him. Whenever we went to visit them in Selz, ND. Grandpa would always greet us at the door with a jovial, “hello, hello, hello” along with a lot of hugs and kisses. Then Grandpa’s heart began to fail and give him trouble. One day in the summer of 1940, Uncle Martin drove into our yard and informed us that Grandpa had died in his sleep that night. Again, Mother was absolutely devastated. I can still picture her as she wept and grieved. Two of her most favorite people in the entire world were gone. As difficult as these two events were for her, I think they helped mold her into the kind, generous and compassionate person we all knew and loved.
Before I was a teenager...some of my “play toys” were old car tires. Brother Don and I would spend hours rolling those tires all over the farmyard. We would mark out highways and drive them relentlessly. When dad changed the tires on his truck, he threw the old tires in the junk pile; and Don and I would shout “eureka”! Now we had big tires to “drive” around the yard. One day when we were driving our tires near the farmhouse some of our younger sisters were playing on Highway number 19. We told them to get off the road, but they wouldn’t budge. I came zooming toward them with my big truck tire hollering at the top of my lungs to get off the road. When they saw that big tire coming, they all ran for cover, everyone except little (4-year-old?) Eunice. She stood frozen and obviously terrified as that big tire mowed her down and left her lying in a lump. She cried and cried telling us she was really hurting. The doctor diagnosed her with a broken collar bone along with numerous cuts and abrasions. The retribution from dad of 40 lashes less one did nothing to relieve my remorse and regret over what I did to my precious little sister. I never drove those tires near the house again.
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The “Big Rock”...is situated in a big coulee, on the side of a hill in a slough (later called the Beaver Dam). This was and still is a favorite play area for Rochus Leier Sr.’s kids, grandkids, great-grand kids plus other family and friends. This huge shale rock is about 15 feet high, ten feet wide and it sticks out of the ground about five feet. Who knows how deep it penetrates into the hill. Before I became a teenager, my best friend, Arnie, and I would spend countless hours playing near and on this rock. We even carved out a very small hideaway on the bottom of the rock and piled long tree branches over the top so we could go in the “cave” and hide from Arnie's mother and little brothers and sisters. We scrounged an old cook stove from a neighbor’s junk pile and often would make candy on the stove. We would raid Arnie's mother’s pantry for cream and sugar. Boiled sweet cream and white sugar makes excellent white candy. Many years after I left home, the whole front face broke off the rock and slid down about five feet completely covering our hideaway and many great memories.
The Beaver Dam disclaimer: The reason I didn't initially add the Dam into my story is because the Beavers never showed up until about 1947, when I had just started high school in Maddock. The Benson County AG School had dormitories for both boys and girls, because of this I never got home to the farm very often from September through May. There was a large grove of about 100 poplar trees directly south of the Beaver Dam on the hill. The beavers cut down every one of those large trees to build their dam. The first two or three of their dams washed out because of the heavy snows and the resultant heavy waters from the snow melt that occurred in the winters of 1947, 48, 50, & 51. Then, I left home in 1951 when I was inducted into the Marine Corps, so I never saw the beavers build those dams.
The Beaver Dam disclaimer: The reason I didn't initially add the Dam into my story is because the Beavers never showed up until about 1947, when I had just started high school in Maddock. The Benson County AG School had dormitories for both boys and girls, because of this I never got home to the farm very often from September through May. There was a large grove of about 100 poplar trees directly south of the Beaver Dam on the hill. The beavers cut down every one of those large trees to build their dam. The first two or three of their dams washed out because of the heavy snows and the resultant heavy waters from the snow melt that occurred in the winters of 1947, 48, 50, & 51. Then, I left home in 1951 when I was inducted into the Marine Corps, so I never saw the beavers build those dams.
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At the time this photo was taken...the farm pictured in the background was owned by the Nielius Liudahl family, Ardis Liudahl Leier's grandfather. When Nielious suddenly died on Christmas eve of 1931, the farm was sold to the Grant Hagen family. During this time a young lady (name kept private) lived with her parents in the area and she passed this farm many times as she rode the school bus into Esmond. When she grew up she became a professional photographer and worked for an Advertising agency out of Minot. A few years later the Ralston-Purina company needed a nice farm picture as a backdrop for the ad on their new instant hot cereal box; this young girl had the perfect place. Grant Hagen was a relative to the Liudahl clan, so Ardis and I visited this farm many times.
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From Nancy (aka) Nancila: Whenever Rock and I were in the same room together for any kind of event Rock always liked to tell this story, and I never got tired of hearing it... On May 28th, 1950, Rock and his high school sweetheart Ardis were having their graduation ceremony in Maddock, ND. Dad had told him he would be there for his graduation, but he didn't make it until the tail end of the ceremony. When Rock asked him what happened, Dad responded, "I just came from the hospital in Devils Lake, you have a sister, her name is Nancy!"
There is another date that I would like to share with you, that date is October 24, 1980; this is the day that Rock shared the Gospel with me, and I accepted Jesus Christ as my personal Lord and Savior. I will forever be eternally grateful to Rock for sharing the Good News with me, and for always being there for me on my spiritual journey!!
There is another date that I would like to share with you, that date is October 24, 1980; this is the day that Rock shared the Gospel with me, and I accepted Jesus Christ as my personal Lord and Savior. I will forever be eternally grateful to Rock for sharing the Good News with me, and for always being there for me on my spiritual journey!!