Cindee's CHRISTMAS GIFT -

            We were poor.  My husband had just graduated from seminary.  This was our first home and the salary was small.  It was December, 1961.

            We lived in a big, square, drafty house out in the country five miles from a small Midwestern town.  Our first daughter, Cindy, was almost three and her baby sister, Sandy, was only eight months old.  I wanted to make their Christmas just as wonderful as I could.  But we seemed to be destined for a slim Yule Tide.  There was a doll in a store window in town that Cindy wanted.  She talked about it all the time.  But, sadly, there was not enough money.  All our money had to be spent on essentials.

            There was one week left before Christmas.  I was dealing with the wringer washer in the basement, washing and rinsing a week’s worth of laundry, putting each piece through the wringer three times.  My husband was working on his Sunday sermon in his study.  When I came up with a basket full of wet sheets, pillow cases and large, heavy items to hang on the outside clothesline, he went to get the mail from our box at the edge of the road.

            “Guess what!” he shouted at me, but I had clothespins in my mouth.

            “Hm-m-m-m?” I replied.

            “All the ministers in the Synod received Christmas checks and guess how much it is?”

            “How m-u-m-m-ph?” I guessed, clothespins slipping to the ground.

            “Twenty-five dollars!  And just before Christmas!  We can really use this!”

            “I can really use that,” I thought. 

            The rest of the clothes, the little girl things, the diapers, shirts and blouses were hung on the lines that had been strung in the basement.  They would dry slowly and be ready for folding the next day.  The clothes outside would come in later in the afternoon, frozen stiff, but mostly dry.

           

            The next morning, I planned to go to town to get what I considered necessities for Christmas, and by now the extra $25 was burning the proverbial hole in my pocket.  Perhaps I needed gift wrap or another trinket for the tree.  Cindy wanted the doll.  I was thrilled to be able to go shopping – to spend the money.  Money that was unexpected and free!

            Cindy and I got dressed in our warm winter duds, jumped in the little blue Rambler and took off for town.  My husband was the designated baby-sitter for Sandy.

            We had our treasures (including the coveted doll) safely tucked into the back seat of the car and Cindy and I were on our way back home.  The road was hard surfaced and straight as a string between town and home.  But it had been snowing and Cindy had her little red boots on.  Her snowy boots were supposed to stay on the floor of the car, but being a wiggly little girl she got very close to putting her boots on the seat.  She wanted to sit on her knees so she could see.  (Car seats and seat belts were only a gleam in the eye of some transportation safety bureaucrat at that time.)

            I looked over at her and noticed the activity.  I kept my hands on the wheel, but I said, “Keep your feet on the floor!”  Then I kept looking at her to see to it that she followed my instructions.  My hands on the steering wheel must have followed my eyes on my child.

            I’ll never know where she put her feet because at that instant something was happening to the car.  I felt the difference right away, turned to look out the windshield and pulled my foot off the gas pedal, but by that time we were flying in a blur of white.  The car was moving about 45 to 50 miles per hour, I’m guessing.  I didn’t have time to hit the brakes.  Since I already knew there was nothing I could do to change what would happen, I just held on to the steering wheel and waited for the car to come in for a landing.

            We were down at the bottom of a 15 foot ditch.  The car was covered with snow.  I looked over at Cindy and discovered that she was fine.  She wasn’t even crying.  I was calm -- completely in control of things.  I shoved as hard as I could to get my door open and crawled out of the car pulling Cindy with me.  We looked up and saw the edge of the road about 10 feet above us so we began to crawl.  On hands and knees we scrabble through what seemed like tons of snow.  Finally we reached the top. 

            We stood there, brushing ourselves off.  I really didn’t know what to do then except to start walking and just as I was about to do that, a car pulled up.  I don’t know what kind of car it was or anything about the driver except that he was a neighbor.  He was kind too, because he said he’d take us home.  I don’t remember our conversation, but I suppose I said, “I’m the minister’s wife from Ebenezer Church, just down the road.”

            So we got home, all in one piece.  But the car was missing.  Into the house we went.  My husband was in his study and came out to greet us.  The minute I saw his face, my “control” went out the window and I fell apart in his arms.  I cried, “I ran the car into the ditch!”

            He said, “Is Cindy OK?   Are you OK?”

            I said, “Yes, we’re both OK.”

            He said, “Where is the car.”

            I said, “Well, it’s somewhere in the ditch between here and town!”

            He said, “But, where?  Was it closer to town or closer to home?”

             “I don’t know!” I wailed.

           

            One of our parishioners drove over, picked up my husband and they went looking for our little blue vehicle.  They drove all the way to town and didn’t see it anywhere.  They looked in both ditches, all the way.  No car.  On the way back, they finally spotted a patch of blue in the ditch nearly buried under all the snow.  It was obvious that it wouldn’t be driving anywhere anytime soon.   To get back on the road would take the assistance of a tow truck.

            The tow truck came, pulled the car up on the road and back to a garage where it was thawed out.  There was snow everywhere!  It was packed under the hood, under the car, under the fenders and everywhere a bit of snow could possibly get.  But when he tried the starter, my husband was thrilled to find that no additional problems were in the offing.  It started without further incident.

            Alas, the cost of getting the car back on the road was exactly $25!  The Christmas gift was gone – as well as the money I had spent in town – money we could ill afford.  The next couple of weeks would be slim indeed.  But Cindy had her doll.

            Let this be a lesson for all:  be content with whatever you have………. Phil. 4:11.

Addendum (Twenty years later):

The same doll was taking a bath with Cindy's daughter one day, the plastic stiff and somewhat fragile. But she still worked well for a bath tub mate. Kirsten pulled the doll closer to her and the leg came off. Totally horrified, Kirsten started screaming and screaming and needed to be out of the tub – right now. Cindy got her calmed down and went back to the tub to get the doll. Cindy fixed it in right front of her, but it was never the same again. The doll was relegated to a top shelf in the attic closet where she couldn't be seen.

THE PLEASANT VIEW CEMETERY

On a recent trip to South Dakota, we visited the grave site of my great aunt Johanna Christine Thaden. The cemetery is located southwest of Luverne, Minnesota.

(The death of sister Johanne Catherine (Hannah) on January 18, 1876 at 13 years, eight months and 22 days of age was tragic. It was said that she died of “consumption.” A local carpenter made the coffin. When the pall bearers picked up the coffin, the handles fell off and they dropped the coffin. Following the church service, the coffin was opened and Hannah was lying face down and much of her hair was pulled out. A carrier was dispatched by horseback to a doctor in Luverne. He listened through his stethoscope, but could hear no heart action. The doctor slashed her wrist and no blood came, so he declared her dead. Her tombstone remains in the Pleasant View church cemetery today, easily read and in good shape. It is a beautiful country cemetery.)

Throughout the midwest, churches were started by ministers who "rode the circuit." They packed their Bibles and rode their horses among the struggling rural pioneers, holding services in sod huts for a few families. Eventually, as the rural communities grew and prospered, sufficient money and labor were available to build small churches. 

In 1873 a minister from Jackson, sixty miles to the east, arived in nearby Rock County, Iowa in July despite "bad weather and the great distance to travel," states the Evangelical Minnesota Conference History (p. 73). That pastor was the Rev. William Oehler, who organized a church society consisting of the Bertuleit, Carner, Loose, Miller, Nuerenburg, and Nuffer families. A little later they were joined by Bahnson, Borchert, Hoefer, Mickelson, Munz, Ohs, Rogge, Taubert, Thaden and Zellmer families. In time the Engel, Finke, Oesterle, and Passer families were added.

As a temporary meeting place a large tent of boards, horse blankets, and bed sheets was constructed across the road from the original Loose farm. In 1874 six acres of land at the southwest corner of section 31 of Luverne Township were purchased. Plans to build were delayed for a year because swarms of grasshoppers arrived at harvest time and devoured the cash crop. In 1875 a small church was built on the purchased site. That church was 20 x 30 x 7.

Johanna Christine Thaden - Died - Jan. 18, 1876.

The slim stone on the right is the Thaden stone - hard to find.

Original church site.

Early records reveal little information concerning the cemetery. Much may be gained from reading the names, dates and inscriptions on the monuments. The rigorous life on the prairie took its toll in small children and young women. Many babies did not survive their first year.

The view is just as pleasant today as it was over 100 years ago when pioneers purchased property from the St. Paul & Sioux City Railroad to establish a church and cemetery. Although the church is no longer there, the burial ground continues in respectful silence to harbor the dead.

Most of the above was taken from an information sheet provided by

The Pleasant View Cemetery Association 

MENNE A. AND ENGLE PLUCKER

In her "Plucker-Witte Genealogy" dated 1989, Eleanor Skoog wrote:

About 1865 (it was actually 1866), Dick and Menne Plucker came to America together. When they came to South Dakota in 1878, they crossed the Mississippi River by Dubuque, Iowa. The horses, wagons, and men crossed first, leaving the women on the east side. When they found it was safe, they went back for the women.

My great grandparents Plucker came to Sioux Falls on one of the first freight trains but were delayed briefly while the railroad was being completed. They endured the many early hardships which befell them, and witnessed the progress of that large midwest area.

In the blizzard of 1888, Menne lost 37 head of cattle, and the following year he constructed a large barn which remained on that farm for at least 100 years. The two eldest boys, Wessel and John (my grandfather) were caught in the blizzard of 1888 -- one and one-half miles from home, while they were hauling straw. When the blizzard struck, it took the load of straw and rack, leaving them with a bobsled. With the aid of the hard trail and other indications leading to their farm they reached the place safely, although the blizzard was so severe they passed their father in their yard unnoticed. The two boys, and horses, were coated with ice and snow when their father located them in the barn.

During the winter of 1881 the Plucker family was unable to get to town for three months due to the deep snow and many snow storms. During that time they ground six sacks (15 bushels) of wheat in a coffee mill. Early in March, Menne and his son, Wessel, went to Lennox on snowshoes to get necessary supplies. It was impossible for them to get to their stock for three days on one occasion during that winter.

The old Yankton-sioux Falls stage coach trail crossed the Plucker farm, and John P. Plucker (my grandfather) was an eye witness to the robbery of one of the stages. A lad of but 10 years, he saw the "federal" men capture the robber - approximately 80 yards from the Plucker home. The stage coach horses were kept at Sioux Falls, the Plucker farm, and Swan Lake, and the horses were changed at these places enroute to and from Yankton. There was only one other farm home between the Plucker farm and Sioux Falls.

These folks were true early pioneers in the midwest. Menne was born September 17, 1837 in Uttum, Osfriesland, Germany. Engel J. Poppens was born August 12, 1838 at Suurhusen, Osfriesland, Germany. They were united in Marriage April 18, 1866 in Germany.

The newly married couple then left their native land and immigrated to the United States, settling in Rockford, Ogle County, IL. They resided there for nearly six years, and in 1872 continued their trek westward to Ackley, Iowa.

After residing nearly half a decade in the Hawkeye state, Menne left his family behind and came to Dakota territory. He filed on a homestead claim six miles northwest of Lennox. The following year, 1878, his family took up their residence with him.

Nine children were born into the family: Wessel M., John P., Henry, Harmke, Grace, Menno M., and Enno M. Two children died at an early age.

My great grandfather attained the age of 87 years, 11 months and eight days at the time of his death, August 25, 1925. He spent just short of 10 years alone; my great grandmother, Engle, died September 4, 1915 at the age of 77 years and 23 days.

My great grandparents were charter members of the Germantown Presbyterian church and he was one of its first elders. In 1884 Menne and Engle lost their son, Dierk, who was born December 28, 1882 and died March 2, 1884. When  this child died, Menne donated land where this child was buried. This became the first burial in Germantown Cemetery. Menne lived with his youngest son, Enno, after Engle died and until his death.


[Much of the wording for this post was taken from the 60th Anniversary booklet compiled by the town of Lennox, South Dakota in 1939.]

THE POPPEN CONNECTION

Jan Hinderks Poppen was born in the village of Grimersum. By 1838 he became a dress maker and then advanced to a master tailor. Unexpectedly, in 1849 he died (7/28/1849) of a throat or chest ailment. His parents were Hinderk Poppen Hinderks, born in Grimmersum and Engel Janssen, born in Uttum.

Heye Hinderks Luitjes and Houke Hansen from the village of Cirkwehrum were the parents of Grietje Heyen Luitjes. Grietje was born in the late 1700’s. She married Klaas Sieverts Steenlage on April 29, 1827 in Cirkwehrum. He was a master tailor, but died suddenly on August 2, 1833. Two children were born to this union: Hauke Klaassen and Wendel Klaassen Steenlage. Hauke was born on August 17, 1828; Wendel born on October 4, 1832 in Suurhusen. 

Grietje Heyen Luitjes had been a widow for eighteen months when she married Jan Hinderks Poppen. Grietje was about 27 when she married Klaas and 33 when he died 8/2/1833. Hauke was 5 and Wendel only one year old when their father died. They must have moved to Suurhusen between 1828 and 1832. 

Engel

Jan and Grietje were married on February 15, 1835. They were married in the Suurhusen Reformed church. They moved into House #37 in Suurhusen that same year. Their daughter, Engel Janssen Poppen, was born on August 12, 1838. She was baptized on August 19^th just seven days later. Grietje had Hauke and Wendel with her when she married Jan. Hauke would have been 10 when Engel was born and Wendel would have been six. So, when Engel was born, there were then five people in the family.

Life in House #37 was simple, but difficult – compared to modern life.  The house, itself was originally designated as agricultural property. It was equipped with a side barn door, which can still be seen – along with the original cobblestones on the street – “the medieval paving of ‘kirchstrasse’” (church street).

The village of Suurhusen has a museum that our friend, Johannes U. Willms, opened to show us how our great grandparents lived back in the early 1800’s.                      

Johannes Willms

When Jan died on 7/28/1849, Hauke was 21, Wendel was 17 and Engel was 11. Grietje must have been somewhere around 50. Engel may have found work in Suurhusen or perhaps even in other villages (like Cirkwehrum or Uttum) in the area. Perhaps she became a seamstress and picked up some of her father’s customers. Hauke and Wendel probably helped out with finances, too. 

We don’t know where Engel lived or what she did from the time of her father’s death, but we do know that the house stayed as a “Poppen” house until 1856. Grietje’s family may have lived there until Engel was 18 and Grietje was in her late 50’s. It is said that she lived beyond 79 years. She died of cancer on June 24, 1879 and was buried five days later.

House #37 is identified in this picture from 1961

House #37 as it is in 2011

The plat of House #37 - where it is on Church Street

The house museum in Suurhusen - Circa early 1800's

The living room, kitchen and bedroom of the house. The cupboard shown on the right is really the "master bedroom"

The main room included scant room for the family.

Here we have the entryway, including the wash area, pig pen, sheep pen and toilet.

1799 map of Ostfriesland with Suurhusen highlighted.

            We also know that 10 years passed by before Engel’s marriage to Menne Albert Plucker on April 18, 1866 in Uttum. When did they meet? Engel had some relatives in Uttum (her paternal grandmother came from there). Where was Menne working in Uttum? It is a good “educated” guess that he was a farm worker, but he was nearly 30 years old and probably didn’t have his own property there. It is easy to believe that knowing how many others were going to America, he also decided that would be a good move for him.

Did Engel have to be convinced? Had they made plans for a long time? Perhaps they planned their wedding at such a time that they could just leave directly from Uttum on the journey to Bremerhaven, where they caught their ship. How much did they leave behind? Did they have any household items? How much money did they have to take them on this frightening journey? Whose wagon and horses did they use to get to Bremerhaven?

Whatever the answers to those questions, they greeted Ship’s Captain, G. Wessels when they boarded the ship Orpheus in Bremerhaven. They arrived in New York on May 29, 1866, just 42 days after their wedding.

BREMERHAVEN - THE GERMAN EMIGRANT CENTER

Bremerhaven is the place from where most of the emigrants to the US sailed. We took the Autobahn to Bremen and then north on the Autobahn to Bremerhaven.

We found the German Emigration Center at the Port and learned that between 1871 and 1903 four million emigrants left the port for worlds unknown, most of them to the US.  Overall, Bremerhaven has shipped out seven million emigrants since they started in the early 1800s until today.

It was a museum so they had models of people standing on the dock waiting to board. You could almost hear them saying to one another, “Is this the right decision?” They had to leave their “homeland” where they had been raised. They had to travel many, many miles just to get to this place and they knew that when they went up that gangplank, they most likely would not see their homeland again.

The exhibit in the museum showed that most emigrants on these ships had nice bunks, they were fed three meals a day and they had storage for their baggage. The only negative was they were in a lower deck and the port windows had the sea water splashing on them. It would have been easy to get seasick.

Even though these pictures show a fabrication of what happened back in 1866 when my great grandparents set off on their journey, it has made a huge impression on me.

They arrived 29 May 1866 from Bremerhaven to New York. 

They were on the ship Orpheus, the ship's captain was G. Wessels.

Menne & Engel were married in Uttum on April 18,1866.

They must have married just before they left Bremerhaven.

Just think of their determination, resilience, bravery, independence and strength!

I doubt if I could do it.

FOUR GENERATIONS FOR JOHN POPPE PLUCKER

Generations
4th	Koert Hinderks Plucker, b. Apr 4, 1778 in Norden, d. Dec 28, 1848 in Uttum. He married in Uttum, Dec 26, 1808 to  Antje Wessels, b. June 12, 1777 in Pilsum, d. July 16, 1865.	Menne Alberts Eekhoff, Came from Midlum/Rheiderland to Wirdum (no date), d. Oct 12, 1836 in Wirdum, married  May 4, 1794 to Cirkje Dirks, b. Aug , 1772 in Wirdum, d. Mar 8, 1839 in Wirdum	Hinderk Poppen Hinderks came from Eilsum to Grimersum, died in Grimersum on Oct 27, 1840, married Apr 27, 1800 to Engel Janssen, b. Dec. 17, 1775, baptized Dec. 21, 1775 in Uttum, d. Nov 14, 1831 in Grimmersum	Heye Hinderks Luitjens (no dates) married Hauke Hanssen (no dates). Both were from Cirkwehrum.
	No info on other children	No info on other children	Hinderk and Engel had two boys: Jan and Poppe.** See below	No info on other children
3rd	Wessel Koerts Pucker, b. Jan 27, 1812 in Uttum, d. Apr 26, 1886 in Chancellor,SD - He married:	Harmke Mennen Eekhoff, b. June 1, 1809 in Wirdum, d. Dec 6, 1859 in Uttum	Jan Hinderks Poppen, b. Jan 28, 1801 in Grimersum, d. July 28, 1849 in Suurhusen - He married:	Grietje Heyen Luitjens, b. Jan. 1, 1800, Baptized Jan. 19, 1800 in Cirkwehrum, d. June 24, 1879 perhaps in Suurhusen
	Wessel and Harmke had two sons: Menne and  Koert, b. Dec. 5, 1841, baptized in Uttum Dec. 12, 1841 in Uttum.		Jan and Grietje had one child: Engel
2nd	Menne Alberts Plucker, b. Sept 17, 1837, baptized  Oct. 1, 1837 in Uttum, d. Aug 25, 1915 in Chancellor, SD - He married in Uttum April 18, 1866:		Engel Poppen, b. Aug 12, 1838 in Uttum, d. Sept 4, 1915 in Chancellor, SD. She came to America with Menne in 1866.
1st	John Poppe Plucker (His story will be published in the near future.)
	List of children for Menne and Engel:		Wessel	(1867 - 1939)
	(Two children died when very young)		John Poppe	(1869 - 1957)
			Harmke	(1871 - 1931)
			Menno	(1873 - 1917)
			Henry	(1876 - 1953)
			Grace	(1878 - 1915)
			Enno	(1880 - 1950)

JUNE 4, 1924 -- DENA THADEN MARRIES MENNE PLUCKER

                                                               PLUCKER-THADEN

"The E. L. Thaden's home was the scene of a charming wedding ceremony last Wednesday noon, June 4th, marking the marriage of Dena Thaden, the eldest daughter of Mr. and Mrs. Thaden, and Menne Plucker, the only son of Mr. and Mrs. John Plucker, of Lennox, S. D.

"The wedding ceremony took place at high noon in the presence of a number of relatives and intimate friends. The ritual was read by the Rev. John Schmidt. The bride was attended by Cathryne Bunger, a charming young lady from Davis, S. D. She was attired in white silk satin and carried a bouquet of white sweet peas. The groom was attended by the bride's brother, Jerry Thaden, a student from the University of Dubuque. After the ceremony a delicious three-course dinner was served, to which all did justice.

"The parlor was decorated with blue and white crepe paper and adorned with beautiful flowers of various kinds.

"The bride was attired in a beautiful all silk charmeuse satin. She carried a beautiful bouquet of white roses. She is well known about the city of Willow Lakes. She was educated at the University of Dubuque, and also took a course in nurses' training at the clinic hospital at Huron. She has through her charming ways and her good character and personality won a host of friends. We are assured  that she will bring happiness and sunshine to her new home that is about to be organized.

"The groom was attired in a blue serge suit and wore a bouquet of white roses. He was educated at the University of Dubuque and has for the last few years operated a grain elevator at Lennox, S. D. He has by his kind ways and his personality won a host of friends.

"The young couple left for Princeton, Ill., for a short honeymoon. They will be at home to their friends at Lennox, S. D., after June 20th. May happiness and success be their tide as they go on their journey on the sea of time."

DENA THADEN'S NURSING MEMOIRE

I have no idea when my Mother wrote the following memoire. It was found in a small booklet called “Uniform Method” – the School Series, an Upper Grades Note Book. In extremely faded pencil, you will see:

“D.M. Thaden,

Huron, So. Dak.”

Mom’s handwriting fills the first few pages and after that, all that can be found are drawings I seem to remember Dad making for me when I was sitting with him in church.

My Dad’s distinctive handwriting: “Jean Ellen Plucker” and “M.E.J. Plucker,” homely birds, scribbles, trucks, a clock drawn to show 1:15, funny looking faces – all drawn very quietly while listening to some preacher or other and letting the licorice taste and the smart of Sen-sen grow in our mouths.

When did she write this? What was written before this first sentence? She must have written something about “Night Duty.” Did she do this while wondering if she should have continued her training to become a registered nurse instead of marrying Dad when she only had one year left? We’ll never know...

*******************************************

          However, the memories of night duty don’t compare with those
of the diet kitchen. If patients ever fuss, you may be sure it is about their
trays. The eggs are either too soft or too hard and what should be hot is
always cold, and what should be cold has had a rise in temperature, and there
you go!

          About the time I began thinking I was a regular nurse and
knew everything, I was put in charge of a floor. I learned the excruciating joy
of being blamed for the other fellow’s mistakes and along with all this came
those frequent visits to the office, for leaving undone those things that
should have been done. But after all, there is a certain satisfaction in being
able to make things run smoothly and systematically.

          Of course, every nurse knows that some time in the dim and
distant future she will enter the operating room. I tremble now when I think of
the day I reported there. I felt like an unnecessary piece of furniture. It was
“don’t touch this,” and “don’t touch that,” until I wondered what there was I
could touch. But finally I mastered the mysteries of aseptic technique, learned
to keep my head when doctors yelled – even though my ears did tingle for a week
– and was able to answer, “Yes, Doctor,” when asked if all the sponges were
accounted for. These days were full of interest and the training was very
valuable for accuracy, quickness and skill, but it was a glorious day when I
went back on the halls and became once more familiar with people’s faces
instead of their insides.

          The bane of my existence was class work. The weary hours I
spent on anatomy and Materia Medica! Such labor never entered my mind when I
was having fond dreams of being a nurse and relieving suffering humanity. Why
couldn’t bones be named something shorter than Ossa Innominata, or a drug
something simpler than Hexamethylamine and why are there so many nerves,
muscles and blood vessels? Indeed, we are fearfully and wonderfully made. And
how discouraging, when trying to make one small head hold all that knowledge,
to have a doctor remark: “They are the brightest looking class of girls to be
so stupid I ever saw.”

          There were days that were a continual grind; when nobody
could be pleased; when life didn’t seem worth living. Ye shades of Florence
Nightingale! Where have all our beautiful ideals flown? We vowed daily to go
home, but why didn’t we? We were held fast by the lure of nursing.

          There is a fascination that every girl feels if she has the
true spirit of a nurse. Can any joy equal that when we have had a part in the
saving of a life? Oh! There are hundreds of rewards for our toil and we are
glad that we are nurses. We want to live up to our clinic ideals as they have
ever been held up before us by our Superintendent, Miss Mabel Heldstab. She has
been our constant inspiration and we think Longfellow must have had her in mind
when he wrote: 

A noble type of good

Heroic womanhood

In the picture to the left, Dena is second from the right. In the picture on the right, Dena is on the right.

  

It is a strange feeling to find something written by a woman who I thought of throughout the years as being "my mother," "my dad's wife," "my children's grandma" and who now can be seen through new eyes as a woman who had deep thoughts and feelings quite apart from all of that.

I thought I knew my mother. I thought I knew what she thought, what she felt, what her life was always like. Those years before she married and had children will always be a mystery to us, but with this small discovery, we know a little more. She had aspirations of becoming a nurse, of helping people, of being useful in society.

And she was! It was just on the farm and in the house, in the church and in the community, not in a hospital.

Part II DENA THADEN PLUCKER'S STORY

[Here is the rest of the story written by Dena herself in the mid-1960's.]

"All this led up to my being organist in the Willow Lake Presbyterian Church for quite a number of years, and much later pianist and organist in the Germantown Presbyterian Church, also for several years.

"As you can imagine, there were no automobiles in those days so whenever we went to town or to church, it was with a buggy in the summer time and a bobsled in the winter. My folks had a two seated buggy, so on Sundays all of the children went along with the parents to Sunday School, at least those that were old enough. It was not possible for all of us to crowd into the two seats, so usually two of the bigger boys had to s tand up behind the back seat. Those trips were very enjoyable because we all had time to really enjoy nature.

"The bobsled rides were something like this: First of all, a bobsled is just a wagon box mounted on runners. Usually we had a layer of straw in the bottom of the box to sort of keep our feet warm. A spring seat was mounted on the wagon box about in the center. This was for Mom and the smaller children. They were kept warm with horsehide robes and possibly a heated soapstone for their feet. Dad would be up front in the box so he could drive the horses, and the rest of the children would be standing up in the rear part of the box. If we complained about being cold, Dad would tell us to get out of the sled and run behind until we were warm again.

"By the time I was old enough to remember such things, my mother was no longer using the washboard but had a mechanical washing machine. However, it had to be manupulated by hand. There was a handle that had to be pulled back and forth. All of us children got a chance at that chore. One can imagine that a large family like ours had a lot of laundery every week. Also much food was consumed, so much that my mother had to bake bread at least twice a week. A bakery in town where bread could be bought wasn't heard of. Once a week we had to churn about five gallons of cream. This was done with a large wooden box with a tight cover. It was suspended between two uprights and it had a handle so it would tumble the cream back and forth in that box until the butterfat separated from the milk and we would have several pounds of butter.

[How many cows would have been needed to separate at least five gallons of cream each week?]

"The beds of those days were quite different from what we now have. Instead of foam rubber or inner springs or even plain cotton mattresses, we slept mostly on straw mattresses. These mattresses were made of very heavy cotton ticking, being almost as heavy as the canvas tents are made of. Thes cloth was sewn into the shape of a large sack the same size as the bed. This was then stuffed with clean straw, usually soon after threshing in the fall of the year. It was great fun for us children to go to bed the first night after this was done. the mattress would be about three times as high as it was supposed to be. We would climb on top of this huge mound and then sink way down. Of course, as time went on, the straw became more leveled off and things were back to normal.

[In the photo of the three girls, Dena is on the left.]
"After I graduated from the eighth grade I had a desire to go to high school. It was not to be, because there was a new baby every second year and my help was needed at home. However, my best girl friend from our neighborhood went to Dubuque, Iowa to the high school department of Dubuque college. She came back with such glowing accounts of her experiences that my parents finally consented to my going there for one year. What happened there is pretty well explained in the other part of this little story, so I won't go over it again. After a year I was home again and not too well satisfied with what I had to do. I began to inquire at different hospitals as to what my chances would be to enter as a student nurse. Finally, the Sprague Hospital in Huron, South Dakota accepted me as a student. After some two and one half years, that man of mine became so insistent that I, like him, became a dropout, and we were married.
"Certainly many things have changed since the time when I was a young girl at home. By the time we were married, many improvements had been made. For instance, the first washing machine we had after we were married was still the hand-operated type. It was while we lived in Princeton, Illinois that we got our first electrically operated washer. We kept this machine while we lived in Princeton and in Dubuque, but when we moved back to the farm, it had to be changed over. Since there was no electricity out in the country at that time, we bought a small gas engine which was designed for operating a washing machine.
"This little engine was the cause of much grief. Many times on wash day my man was out in the field before I got started to wash clothes. Then, of course, the engine refused to start and I  would have to drop everything and walk to wherever he was and tell him to come home and start the engine. When electricity finally came in 1948, we lost no time in making the switch back to an electric motor.
"We did not get to use the lights very much the first day the electricity was turned on, because son Robert was in a play in Brookings, South Dakota. When we came home from there it was after midnight and high time to go to bed. Since that time electricity has changed from sort of a luxury to an absolute necessity."From that small beginning of one motor we have now progressed to the point where it takes 27 motors to keep us going.
"Before electricity, there was, of course, no refrigerator either, but we did buy an icebox that we used for several years. It was quite a thrill just to have it, so we would no longer have soupy butter and the milk and cream would not sour at the end of one day. Even though it meant going to town every few days to get forty pounds of chunk ice, carrying it across the kitchen while it was dripping, and emptying the pan of water from under the icebox every day, it was still a great help. Every so often the drip pan under the icebox would be forgotten and there would be ice water to be mopped up.
"To illustrate how thrilled we were to get the electricity, we turned on all the lights in the house and in the out buildings one evening and then drove a short distance down the road so we could see what the place looked like when it was all lit upl. Before this, we had a kerosene lamp in almost every room, and that meant washing the lamp chimneys at least once a week and refilling the lamps with oil. We also had a gasoline lamp that had to be filled every day with high test gas, not the same kind used in the car. Electricity did away with all of this, including the box of matches on the kitchen stove. Now, at last, we were free to walk into a dark room without first lighting a lamp so we could find what we needed.

"This just about brings things up to the present time. No doubt there were many small happenings that could have been mentioned, but we have tried to tell of only those things that would be of interest to you. Whatever happens now is known to you and has no real historic value yet. Perhaps when you granchildren arrive at the age we are now, you may feel like writing about some of the changes that happened during your lifetimes. We both feel that if as many changes occur during your lifetime as happened since about 1905 until the present, there will be a multitude of things that will be of interest to those who are living in 2030 to 2040."

Here is the Thaden family in the 1950's.

Clarence, William, Arthur, Ben, Clifford

Dena, Johannah

Harm, George, E. L. (Louie), Minnie, Robert, Jerry

[At the same time this story was written by my mother, my father also wrote about his life. As time goes on, I hope to post that as well.]

DENA THADEN PLUCKER'S STORY - PART I

By Jean E. Straatmeyer

[When my mother, Dena, was about 65 years old and my father was 67, they both wrote their "life stories." Here, now, is how Dena described her life up to that time:]

"I was born on a farm just seven miles away from where we live now. [Eight miles northwest of Lennox, SD.] Four boys in my family are older than I am, four more boys were born after that, then a sister, and finally, one more boy. These are the names of all the Thaden children starting with the oldest: Gerhard Ludwig, Jerry Herman and Harm Daniel (twins), William Leroy, Hendina Margaretta (shortened to Dena), Arthur Floyd, Benjamin Harry, Clifford Adelbert, Clarence Henry, Johannah Christina Amelia and Robert Lawrence.

"Although my parents lived in the same community as the Plucker family, it is doubtful if they even knew each other, since those were horse and buggy days and the only trips that were made regularly were to church and to the town for necessary supplies. My mother's family name was Buus, and they lived for the most part south of the town of Lennox, while the Pluckers settled north and west of Lennox. My great grandfather Buus came to this community at about the same time that great grandfather Plucker did, some time during the 1870's or 80's. [Pictured on the left are my Great Grandma & Grandpa Buus. On the right: my grandparents Louie & Minnie Thaden's wedding picture.]

"This is some of the history of the Thaden family as told by my aunt, who lived in Tacoma, Washington in 1966. She is the only one left of the generation of my father. In fact, she was married to my father's brother. She told me my great grandfather, whose name was Wilkens, was the organist in a large cathederal in Germany. The Wilkens family belonged to the nobility. Evidently the Thadens were not of the nobility, because when my grandmother Wilkens married grandfather Thaden, she was disinherited because she married beneath her station in life. This could very well be the reason why grandfather Thaden decided to migrate to America. They settled first near Peoria, Illinois. Later they moved to Pipestone, Minnesota, and finally settled in Washington state in a small town near Tacoma."

[I believe my mother didn't know the exact location of the homestead in Minnesota - and there is still a lot of mystery about the story of "grandmother Wilkens" being disinherited for marrying into the Thaden family.]

"My father did not make the move to Washington at that time, but stayed in the Pipestone area for a while longer. He finished eight grades in the public school, which made him eligible to teach in a common school in those days. Teaching must not have been too much to his liking because he soon went to the Lennox vicinity to work on a farm. This is where he became acquainted with Minnie Buus, my mother. They were married in 1897, started farming in the Lennox vicinity, and in 1903 moved to a farm near Bryant, South Dakota. I was only one year old at the time, so I don't remember anything of that trip. My father rented this farm, but in 1908 he decided to buy a farm nearer Willow Lake. This farm is still known as the home place, occupied at present by my brother, Art. I did most of my growing up there.

"I was not sent to school until I was seven years old. My name was recorded first as Dina, but the teacher did not like that name, so she changed it to Dena.

"As you can imagine, growing up in a family with four boys older than I was, I got a lot of teasing and tormenting. One of the favorite ways of making me nervous was telling some real wierd ghost stories just before bed time. It was necessary for me to look under the bed before retiring, and after everything was quiet I imagined hearing the stairs creaking. Surely something or somebody was coming!

[On the left is Dena with her mother, Minnie. On the right is Minnie as a young woman.]

"Our school was located a mile and a half away, and when the weather was at all bearable, we walked to school. If it was too cold or stormy to walk we could always catch a ride with our neighbor, Mr. Edelman. I remember the names of his horses. They were called Morg and Gyp.

"Since my grandmother on my father's side was a musician, my father bought a reed organ that operated with air pressure, and had to be pumped continually with the feet while it was being played. It was on this instrument that I took my first music lessons. when I was about 10 or 12 years old, Dad went to town one wintry day and came back with a piano in the sled. Happy day! Dad being the kind of operator that he was, made it a part of the bargain that the dealer who sold him the piano had to promise that his wife would give me piano lessons. The transportation I used for these lessons was a two wheeled cart pulled by a Shetland pony. In the winter time, my hands would be so cold that I had to soak them in some warm water before I could take my lesson."

[Stay tuned for the second installment - coming soon!]