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by snow Author IconMail Icon
Rated: E · Non-fiction · Family · #1308079
grandparents immigrating and childhood memories of grandparents and growing up
There was a depot agent in Bancroft who had relatives in Minnesota, near Dent. My grandfather visited them and became interested in the area as it was less affected by the dry weather. In March of 1934, my grandparents moved to Ottertail, Minnesota. The family traveled in a 1924 Model T Ford with a trailer attached. The other belongings were in a railroad car being attended by a cousin.

  Earlier in 1905 my grandfather had immigrated to Bancroft, South Dakota and joined his family on their farm after being dischared from the German army. he was born on September 18, 1883, in the German village of Up Hussein, near Emden. He went to school through eight or so grades, and then took night classes, training as an apprentice carpenter for several years. He was drafted into the German Army in 1903 and served until 1905. When Eliot Claassen was discharged from the Army, he also immigrated to America and joined his family in Bancroft, South Dakota.

  According to my uncle, Arnold Claassen, my grandfather had built the small Lutheran Church located in Bancroft. He married my grandmother Marie, in June of 1918. They had three children, two boys and a girl, (my two uncles and my mother).
 
  My grandfather had a hardware store for a while and then started a John Deere Machinery business. (Now, I know why there was always John Deere tractors on the farm).

  In 1929 the stock market crash affected businesses throughout the country. In the early '30's the dust bowl of dry weather affected the area of eastern South Dakota. Farm people could not often pay for repairs they needed for machinery to say nothing of buying new machinery.

  They started out farming and then rented another place for a year. My grandfather then served during World War II from 1941-1945. After the war they bought a couple of abandoned houses in the area and tore them down by hand to save the boards and lumber to be used in the house building effort. They dug the basement with a team of horses and a scraper about 1948. The house went up slowly, being they were busy with other things and were short of money.

  According to one of my cousins, when Marie and Eliot had moved to Minnesota, they sold milk to several families in the Ottertail area. The kids delivered the milk, and one of the regular customers moved away and a new family was in the house when the kids came around on their route. When the new lady found out that they delivered milk, she considered being a customer, but asked, "And is your milk pasteurized?" to which Arnold promptly replied, "Oh, yes, our cows go out to the pasture every day!"

  My uncle remembers that my grandmother, Marie, baked a lot, making different kinds of homemade bread and rolls. They did not have a refrigerator and freezer when they were growing up. Most canned foods were too expensive so his mother did a lot of canning of vegetables, meat (pork, chicken, pheasant, etc.) and fruit. They ate a lot of Johnny Cake (made with corn meal) and had corn meal mush and oatmeal with a lot of milk and brown sugar.

  My grandmother did a lot of sewing with her foot treadle Singer sewing machine. It sat against the wall in the dining room. The family did have some store bought clothes, but most of their clothing was homemade.

  My grandmother washed clothes in a tub with a washboard. I know that I was young, and they didn't have a washer as we did. (I was never allowed to wash clothes at home). My grandmother had let me try my hand at it, and believe me, it was not an easy job. Later my uncle bought her a washer/ringer machine. I thought it was cool, until I happened to catch my arm in-between the ringers. You can bet that it scared the daylights out of me. Grandma had warned me to be careful. After that time I had a healthy respect for that machine. After that, I was allowed to wash clothes at home on our washer/ringer machine. One thing it taught me was to pay attention to what you are doing. Did that stop it from happening again? No, it happened to me again. Did I tell anyone? No.

  My grandmother had been my teacher in all things as my mother was ill most of the time. She taught me how to iron, starting out with handkerchiefs. Then I graduated to shirts. Does anyone remember that in their growing up years? Who taught you?

  My grandfather was handy at making some play things for the kids out of wood, as he was a carpenter. They were left over pieces of wood from projects that my grandfather had built. He had sanded them down and made blocks, round circles of wood, some oblong in shape. (Now, I know where they came from). I played with them  as a child and had fun making all kinds of things, and of course using my imagination, it was limitless.

  One thing that my mom and my uncles learned as they were growing up was to take care of and save what they had. They cherished what they had.

  Grandpa died in September of 1960 at the age of 77. I was ten years old and did not remember that much about him. I do, however, vaguely remember him sitting in an overstuffed chair. His chair and grandma's sat, one on each side of the fireplace.
Grandpa had a place for his magazines and papers beside his chair and grandma had her knitting next to her chair. I loved sitting in his chair.

  My grandfather also had a workshop in the basement of the house that they had built. I would go down there and just stand near the workshop. I may not have known him in growing up like I did my grandmother, but I could feel his presence

NOTE: At the time of this writing my uncle (Arnold Claassen) was still alive. This story as well as "My Mysterious Uncle Bernard", is dedicated to him, as he passed away on January 11, 2008, at the age of 82. Our family will dearly miss him.
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