THE MANY EXPERIENCES ENJOYED BY THE PLUCKERS
Memoires from M.E.J. Plucker
Written in 1967, just a year before his death.
This history is written mostly for the younger generation in our family, those of you that were too young to see the changes that came to pass since the early 1900’s. Naturally, not all the small details are going to be mentioned, just those that made the greatest impression on me. It always gave me much pleasure to listen to the tales my father and grandfather would tell about events that happened before I was born. Stories of large Indian tribes that camped on grandfather’s land, the location of the makeshift post offices out here on the prairies, and many other very interesting things.
My grandfather had four brothers and they all had large families, so the name Plucker is fairly prevalent in this community. My father and mother had six children. Ann, who is six years older than I am, married a doctor and lived in Princeton, Illinois all her married life. Wilbur, my brother who was four years older than I am, lived only until he was 22 years old. Esther, born two years after me, died when she was four. Lydia, who is eight years younger than I am, married a professor and is living in Dubuque, Iowa. Alma, born two years after Lydia, is married to a teacher.
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| Wilbur, Menne and Ann |
The stagecoach trail from Sioux Falls to Yankton crossed the farm where we now live, about one-fourth mile north of the present house and barn yard. This trail did not follow the same pattern as the present roads, that is, straight north and south, and east and west, but angled across the country, so as to miss the existing ponds and sloughs, and hit the streams at a point where it would be possible to cross without upsetting the stage. The trail also crossed what is now the Germantown cemetery, and from there across my grandfather’s land to the Heeren place, one mile west of the Germantown church where the nearest prairie postoffice was located. My grandfather’s house was located about a half mile south of the state grail. One day my father heard some shots when the stagecoach was going by, and a few days later they heard that a man had attempted to hold up the stage, but was shot to death.
In our pasture is just a faint sign of what was at one time a bridge across the small creek that runs through our farm. When I was a small boy, the old timbers were still plainly to be seen, but have since disappeared. It must have carried quite a lot of traffic at one time because of the ruts made by the wagon wheels; but now even the ruts have been erased by floods carrying silt into them. No doubt it was built for the convenience of a few of the early settlers who went to the little village of Lennox to trade.
When you see a farmer planting corn now with his four-row planter, think of how our forefathers were obliged to put in a crop of corn. After the field had been plowed, it was smoothed down with a harrow and then a home-made machine called a planker. This broke up all clods and left the ground smooth as a cement sidewalk. Then another home-made machine was used to make the necessary spaces between rows of corn. This rig was a wooden platform about four feet wide with wooden teeth pointing downward, spaced forty inches apart. The reason for the forty inches: It was the amount of space needed by a horse to walk between the rows when cultivating. This apparatus was pulled across the field, first in one direction, and then across at right angles to the first crossing. This made a checkerboard pattern. Then three kernels of seed corn were placed in the ground at each place where the marks crossed. Of course, this planting had to be done by hand with a man carrying a small sack of seed corn and a hoe or a spade. It seems to me that it would take as much time to plant a field of corn as to harvest it later, also by hand.
This method of planting corn had been discarded by the time I had anything to do with that particular job. It was used by my grandfather when he first came to this state from Illinois. The first planter I can remember was a horse-drawn two-row machine. The primitive machinery described above had disappeared by the time my father started farming for himself.
My grandfather accumulated quite a large empire before he finally quit buying and trading for more land. Before he distributed the land to his children, he owned 960 acres, all close to the Germantown church. At one time he was offered a 160 acre tract in exchange for one horse, but he couldn’t spare the horse.
The grandfather I have been mentioning up to now was my father’s father. My mother’s father(1) was not nearly as well known to me. He came to South Dakota in 1886 as the pastor of the newly organized Germantown church. I believe that it was his first experience as a minister, and he was also the first pastor to serve Germantown. He was here for only a very short time. His next charge was at Marion, South Dakota.
(1)
Ernst Phillip Witte was born in Lippe-Detmold in Germany in 1873. He came to America when he was 23 years old and settled in Fosterburg, IL. Having lost his wife in 1878, he followed his calling to become a minister. He entered the seminary at Dubuque, Iowa and eventually began his work at Prairie Dell church near Shannon, IL. From there he took the train and followed the German immigrants west and became the first minister of Germantown church near Chancellor, SD.
On May 5, 1886, Germantown Church was organized with 21 persons as Charter Members – among them were Menne and Engle Plucker. (Jean Straatmeyer’s great grandparents.)
Land for the church site was given by Engel & Menne A. Plucker. The first service was held in May of 1887. Phillip Witte was the first pastor.
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