Since I was born on Hermansdale Farm, number seven of nine children in 1930 and lived there until 1986 when my second son, Reg and Eileen moved to the farm, I believe I have as many or more memories than anyone in our family. Let us go back to the beginning.
The farm began in 1901 when my grandpa Albert and Sarah Herman moved from Pennsylvania to North Dakota to the farm near Brinsmade. They named the farm Hermansdale Farm and it has never changed 123 years since then.
Our dad, George, was eleven years old when they got to North Dakota. Thirteen years later my mother’s family Noah and Senilla Gerig and five other families from Indiana moved to the Brinsmade area. The Hermans from Pennsylvania and those from Indiana became friends from day one and together they started the Christian Missionary Alliance Church in Brinsmade around 1918. My parents, George and Elsie met and the rest is history from then to now.
My dad, George, never went to high school but in 1912 at the age of 22 completed a three month short course at NDSU in blacksmithing and steam engines. Dad honed his skills in the blacksmith shop on the farm. My two older brothers and I spent many days in the shop with Dad and we were so impressed because Dad could fix or build anything and did it right and well. We will never comprehend what Mom and Dad went through raising nine children during the drought and depression years of the late 20’s and 30’s.
What a difference in farming then and now. The other night, I couldn’t sleep thinking about the changes between 1930 and 2024. Don’t do it because you can spoil a good night’s sleep.
I was born in 1930 but the memory doesn’t kick in until about 1936. I think of my parents and how they survived the dust bowl days and the Great Depression. They endured these years by their faith and determination that things could get better. Their’s was a generation that went from then to now. Outhouse to outer space, from kerosene lamps to computers, from horse drawn equipment to 600 HP tractors and supersonic jets from coal and wood stoves to telephones, electricity and all that went with it.
In the 30’s banks closed and many lost their money. I was seventh of nine children. We didn’t realize we were so poor, but our folks sure did. They had little money, but we never knew what it was to be hungry or cold, like many city kids did. We will never comprehend what Mom and Dad went through raising nine children during the drought and depression years of the late 20’s and 30’s. My brothers and I would search the junk piles for copper, brass, aluminum, and collect bones to sell for spending money. We will never forget the hard work on the farm, everything was done by hand; shoveling grain, pitching hay, picking rocks, etc. Handling many 80 lb. fertilizer bags about five times was heavy work. In 1937 my older brothers drove a 1926 Chevy truck during harvest. Getting out of the fields was a problem, it didn’t have enough power in low gear so sometimes they had to back out until they got on harder ground. I remember the first tractors we learned to drive had steel wheels, pulling grain binders all day.
At threshing time I hauled grain or pitched bundles when I was older. So many memories. In winter we had lots of work on the farm because the cattle, horses and hogs were inside all winter. I also helped mom and dad with butchering hogs, beef and chickens in the butcher house to sell to many people in the area. We had large gardens (acres) of potatoes, corn, pumpkins, squash, watermelons cantaloupe and all the vegetables. There wasn’t much idle time because we had weeds to hoe, hay to make (we loaded all hay by hand with forks into hay wagons until I was 16 years old; at this time Dad got his first farmhand loader and tractor (which I ran) cows to milk, barns to clean and lots of grain to shovel before we had grain augers.
I went to a one room country school until 8th grade when it closed and we went to Brinsmade until the high school closed around Jan. 2, 1945, because the teacher quit. I drove dad’s 1941 Chevrolet to Minnewaukan the rest of the year with 8 kids. I was only 14 and didn’t have a drivers license but things were different in those days and someone had to do it. We all survived and got stuck in snow storms on the way to or from school. In 1948 we switched to Leeds school where I graduated from High School in 1948.
Let me set the stage to help understand the great drought of the 30s. Very few homes had running water, indoor plumbing or electricity. A hand pump provided water from a cistern which had to be refilled for lack of rain in the late 30s. The Dust Bowl Days were horrible. So much dust in the air you could hardly see and it was impossible to keep it out of the house. Fence lines were almost buried with drifting sand and tumble weeds (Russian thistle). The sky played cruel tricks at night. Heat lightning would flash in the sky, holding hope for rain which never came. As if all this wasn’t bad enough, grasshoppers ravaged the land leaving gardens, trees and crops bare. One memory of dust storms was when we walked to and from school every day. Sometimes the sand would hit us in the face so we walked backwards. We were lucky, our country school was only 1 1/4 mile north of the farm, our four friends who lived three miles away joined us most days. In winter their dad made a caboose on the sleigh with a small stove in it and saved the day during cold weather.
All the small lakes were dry so farmers had crops in the lake beds. Our family had a large garden plus grain in Silver Lake. One hot evening we were working in the garden when a lightning storm came up. We saw a huge lightning bolt and it struck the Lebanon Lutheran Church three miles from the farm, burning it to the ground, but no rain.
My parents tried everything to make extra money. They watered the gardens from a big water tank. Most years in spite of drought they got enough to go to auction sales and other events to sell produce. This was a big event for us children because we would pop corn and sell it for 10 cents a bag.
I will never forget Mom and Dad cleaning pork casings late at night for sausage after butchering that day. We spent many hours after school and weekends in the butcher house turning the mean grinder and making sausage. Dad was well-known for his delicious country sausage. Our favorite was rendering lard and eating the cracklings. Dad had a smokehouse where all the hams and bacon were prepared.
When we were kids it was a happy day when we got our first bike, shared by all nine of us. I remember a very sore bottom because my legs were not long enough for the pedals.
We did see many things to earn spending money. I sold Cloverine Salve for premiums and still have depression glassware from my sales. I will never forget the bone pile in Brinsmade, about 10 feet high where we sold bones, which is unheard of today. Saturday nights were special because we would take turns going to Brinsmade with dad to get groceries for the coming week. He would give us 10 cents for a bag of popcorn or an ice cream cone. When the cars got better, Brinsmade died and we went to Leeds. Now everyone goes to Devils Lake or even Grand Forks.
Our parents never celebrated birthdays or special occasions like today. I never had a birthday party until my wonderful wife, Bonnie, gave me one after we were married. At Christmas most of the gifts were handmade by mom and dad. Too many kids and not enough money, but we were all happy and content. From very young there was always work on the farm. Always weeds to pull in all the gardens. Our job was to keep the wood box in the house full and gathered a lot of wood for this. We all learned to milk cows very young and everything was done by hand. Turning the cream seperator, churning butter was a good job for us kids. It is hard for young people nowadays to even comprehend what life was like when we were young.
Threshing time was a special event. Men would come from several states to work. My mom looked forward to this time because dad hired a cook and all meals were in the cook car served on a long table to 20 + people three times each day. She looked forward to Sundays after Church coming home to a big dinner in the cook car. Dad did only necessary work on Sundays and one year couldn’t thrash for several weeks due to rain, one after another. Imagine boarding all these men for four weeks until the grain dried. The first combine came in 1947 but nothing like the ones today. Everything started to change after 1941. The drought was over and crops were good. Dad continued to thrash until 1955 when I started farming with dad. We had a huge straw pile on the farm for the cattle and horses to eat all winter. The pheasants loved the straw pile for food and shelter.
Since I was born and raised on Hermansdale Farm and never left because I took over when dad and mom retired in 1955. I have many memories. Farming has been good to our family. In 1984 our second son Reg and wife Eileen moved to the farm and Bonnie and I moved to Devils Lake when I semi retired. Now we are even more thankful when two of their sons are farming with him and we know the farm will continue to grow.
Another reason I am so thankful for Mom and Dad, we never missed church on Sunday, rain or shine. In winter many times with horses and sleigh before the roads were built up.
I was very active in 4-H and FFA. I won many awards on my hogs and showmanship contests locally and in state competition where I competed until I was 20 years old. After high school I stayed home one year. Then I went to the school of agriculture in St. Paul for three months in 1950 and 51 taking the short course in agriculture. I continued livestock judging and in 1951 I took first place in a four-state contest at Union Stock Yards (St. Paul) where our team took first place and I was high individual.
After Ardon and Audrey were married in 1957 they joined Bonnie and me in a farm partnership. George had moved to a ranch at Towner where he developed a herd of Registered Polled Hereford cattle. One of the best herds in several states. In 1964 George moved back and joined Ardon and me in a very successful farm partnership. It is ironic but true how well we all worked together. Since then, Reg and Eileen’s oldest and youngest sons farm for the 5th generation. Justin has three sons and I am sure one or two of them will be the 6th generation on Hermansdale Farm.
Bonnie and I miss the farm, since we live in Devils Lake, but it is not far away and in good hands, so we are extremely happy.
