Johnson Memories by Helen Johnson Arkema

DOUGHMAN, JOHNSON, COOPER, CONNER, MOORE, RUPLE, GRAHAM, KELDERMAN, TAGUE, LUNDINE

Posted By: Sheri Hubbell (email)
Date: 1/29/2003 at 22:02:37

By: Helen Arkema, Born July 22, 1909
In the beginning, God created 12 Johnson kids, born to Charley J. and Anna M. Doughman Johson, by the names of: William, Walter, Fred, Anna, Mary, Ruby, Leslie, Ted, Hilda, Hazel, Helen and Arlene. My dad was born in Sweden in 1867, and came to America with his family when he was 12 years old. Grandpa and Grandma Johnson had 5 children and our Dad was the oldest. Then, in order, was Aunt Hilma, Uncle Victor, Uncle Guffy and Aunt Mary who still resides in the Knoxville Rest Home. March 10, 1980 she was 99 years old. She was born in America, but all the others were born in Sweden. At this time, there are still 8 of us kids living-- all in a radius of about 20 miles. Leslie died when he was 10 years old. Walter passed away in 1966, William in 1975, and Mary in 1979.
This manuscript is being written by any of us who will contribute anything that is remembered from our childhood. There are so many things that happened years age, that we wish now that we knew more about, so maybe that will be the way our children and grandchildren will feel years from now, and there might be something in this, that will be of interest to them.
When Dad came to America, none of them could speak one word that anyone else here could understand. They came here because of high taxes in Sweden. Others had written to them telling of America being such a wonderful place to live. I often think of selling everything except what would go in a trunk, pack up and go with 4 small children, leave your homeland for a strange country on a boat, 2nd class, not knowing anyone, except friends that had come before. I doubt many of of would have the courage to do that today. I don't know what kind of work they found to do, but think they settled in Illinois for a while, then worked their way to Iowa. I know my Dad was working on the railroad when he and Mother were married in 1890.
My Mother was the daughter of Samuel and Sarah Cooper Doughman. Grandpa was considered by some to be one of the leading business men of Marion County. He owned farm land south of Tracy. In fact, the ground where the town of Tracy stands now is land Grandpa Doughman gave so the town could be built. Mom had two sisters and one brother. Aunt Rose Ruple lived west of Tracy, as did Uncle John Doughman, but Aunt Fannie Graham lived at Twin Falls, Idaho. Uncle John met a tragic death in 1922 when the car in which he was a passenger colleded with a team of runaway horses belonging to Pete Kelderman. He was dead at the scene, the only one of the group killed.
THINGS I REMEMBER
I remember when my Mother would always read the paper to Dad at night after supper. Dad had very little schooling--I don't think he went to school in America at all--so what he did have was in Sweden. He was not much for reading, so while us kids did the supper dishes, Mom would read any papers, magazines, or anything else of interest of the day. We kids knew we had better be quiet at these times. Dad had no bad habits, but smoking a pipe. We kids were not to go to dances, play cards, nor drink or cuss. Our Dad did have a few choice words he used on occasion.
I also remember when we would go to Grandma Johnson's for dinner, she would always have the best cake. We would fill our plates too full and never be able to eat it all. She would say:"Hikey musn'ta have that!", Hikey was their big black dog. She was a very neat little woman--always wore a white apron and cap. She was the boss in that house, and whenever she spoke, Grandpa and Uncle Guffy listened and acted accordingly. Granpa was a quiet, easy-going sort of person. I don't remeber when he lost the one eye, but I can never remember his having both eyes. After Grandma died in 1919, he lost the sight in the other eye. As Grandpa and Uncle Guffey then lived on the farm south of Tracy alone, it was hard for him to get along, so he started staying a month at a time with Aunt Hilmer, Aunt Mary and at our place. He died at Aunt Hilmer's home in September of 1923 at the age of 82.
I never remember of my Dad doing anything around the house. I don't think he ever laid a hand on any of us kids, but somehow he commanded our obedience just by a certain look. When I was little, there was always a razor strap hanging on a hook behind the kitchen table. I never knew him to use it, but we were all aware of its being there.
He was a hard working man, and expected everybody else of our household to be busy. Mom never talked back to Dad or complained to Dad is he came in mad about something. We kids often thought that Mom should tell her side of a problem, but usually would say--"why fuss about it?", "Life is too short!". I often wonder how she cooked, washed, and on a wash board yet, for us all. Later, of course, there was a washing machine which we ran by hand. In all her life she never had mechanized washing set-up. She was pregnant so much of her life, and took care of a bunch of us kids and managed a busy household, sewed our clothes and made our quilts and comforters--in todays times, it seems impossible that we fared as well as we did. I know the older ones helped a lot as they grew old enough, but still--! She was a first-class manager, and on a shoe-string budget, too!
Even if there was a big family, we were never hungry. We had all we could eat, if it could be raised on the farm. The first land purchase Dad made, I think, was 100 acres where the house was, and later he bought 40 acres from a man by the name of Conner, so we always called that piece of ground "The Conner Place" to distinguish it from the other land. There was a coal mine on that 40, and dad and the boys mined coal and sold it to the neighbors. I don't remember that we burned much coal as we had 2 wood stoves to heat our house. Dad and the boys would work in the timber during the fall and haul a big pile of long poles into the barn yard, and then early in the winter in a slack time, they would saw it up in stove lengths. We always had enough to do. No matter how cold or deep the snow, we had to either haul it on our old sleds, or on a wheel barrow, or carry it, but get it in a neat pile on the porch, enough wood to last the next night and day for 2 stoves was our job.
Getting back to food--we always had hens, so we always had eggs. We raised a big garden, and Mom canned everything that could be canned, and in the fall, we stored vegetables of all descriptions in our cave. We had lots of potatoes-often Dad planted an acre--apples,cabbage, sweet potatoes, turnips. Then, when the weather started getting winterish, there was a big butchering day. At least 3 hogs were butchered, the hams and sides cured or smoked, sausage ground and fried down, lard rendered, and sealed in half-gallon jars of 10 gallon stone jars. Later in the winter when time permitted, Mom would make soap out of the cracklings from the lard rendering. The lye soap was used to wash our clothes. Dad always helped with the curing of the hams and sides. They used a sugar cure, putting them in a large barrel for so many weeks and then hung in the smoke house. They were smoked every few days by building a fire of hickory wood, (cut from our own land,) in the wood burning stove in the smoke house. When they were ready, it was a treat, and I never will forget how good that meat was and what nice brown gravy it made! A family of 12 eats lots of gravy-at least we did.
Dad alwasy raised lots of water melons and musk melons. That was a job for us kids on Saturdays. He and the older boys would go through th patch and pick and pile the ripe ones, and we younger ones would have to carry them to the house and store them in the cave. WheI was much younger, Dad would peddle them to Durfy--a mining town--where there was good sale for them. One of the older kids would go help deliver them to the homes when a sale was made. Dad made a practice of never selling any of his products on Sunday, but people would come anyway to buy melons because they knew they would have all they could eat, and maybe a free one to take along home. This was expecially true if we had been a little careless on Saturday and maybe dropped some--which was real easy to do--and made a bruise on some. There was always trouble with young kids trying to steal melons, so a tent was set up in the middle of the patch, and Dad or one of the boys would sleep in the tent. There was a barb wire fence all around the patch, and I have heard Dad and the boys talking of finding pieces of shirts and pants hanging on the barbs after a night when some kids had tried to steal a few melons. They always kept a shot gun in the tent, and if they heard any unusual noises, they would fire a few shots into the air. I expect that would hurry you up a little if you were trying to steal a melon, and it is a little hard to get thru' a barb wire fence when you are in a hurry!
Josie and Harry Moore lived about a mile down the creek north from us. They were sort of an odd couple, in a way, were very poor, even in our standard of living, and had 5 or 6 children whom they had a hard time feeding. I am not sure now what he worked at, but I think he worked on the railroad. They liked to come to our house because Mom and Dad always gave them about as much food as they could carry home. They lived in a one room house, built into a a bank on the west and had poles holding it up on the east. If they came on rainy days, we would pop corn, which Josie thought she was and expert at. We kids always had a big laugh at her methods. She really liked watermolon. Their smallest girl met a tragic death, being run over by the wheels of a train going in to Tracy.
Then there was they old barn!! How can I tell you of the fun we kids all had there!! Ted made a hammock out of woven wire, anchored to a 6x6, well toward the ceiling of the barn. In those days, hay was stored loose--baling wasn't being done yet then--and the barn was ususally half full of nice, soft hay. Two of us would get into the hammock, one would pull the rope, causing the hammock to swing back and forth. When it was swinging full-tilt, a bystander would yell ROLL!!, and that's what you had to do!! Sometimes, it was 10 to 12 ft. fall into the hay below. Our neighbor boy George Ellis, who lived across the creek east from us would come over on rainy days and play in the barn with us. I wonder if he remembers this?
The family garden was just over the fence from the barn. We would climb the fence and pick a lap full of peas and take them back to the barn and eat them raw. I think Mom probably planted those peas just so we could swipe them. She never acted like she ever missed any, and I know she never canned any, and I don't especailly remember ever having any cooked on the table.
We used the old barn for a play house, too. We had cats that we could dress up in doll clothes and play like we were going to church. We would climb up on some of the big beams overhead and preach and sing church songs. That old barn!!! What memories!!!!
The older kids got their schooling in the one room country school house about 1-1/2 miles east of our house, called Cedar Valley. Of course, when you went to school in those days, you walked,--rain, cold, sleet or snow--whatever. As far as I was concerned, I only went one year to the country school, because in 1914 Bussey consolidated all the country schools, and I started 2nd grade in Bussey. I'll never forget how scared we were to go to our first day in a town school! Brother was such a big tease, and he delighted in telling us whoppers!! He told us that they had a spanking machine in town and they would run us through that if we didn't behave. Needless to say, we behaved!!! We rode in a big school wagon, pulled by 2 draft horses when the roads were decent, and when it was bad, they put on four horses. All roads near us were pure mud then, so in the spring--during the spring thaw, the mud would roll up on the wheels. The driver would have to stop and poke the mud out of the wheels until the horses could pull it farther. Often it would mean several stops. We got on the school wagon at 7 o'clock in the morning in order to get to Bussey by 9 o'clock when our school took up. Many nights we didn't get home till after dark. Ted, Hilda, Hazel & me all rode the bus, and later in 1921, Arlene started kindergarten.
I remeber one time when the driver had 3 horses on the wagon, there was a hold in the culvert just eat of the George Ellis home, and the horses started crowding and upset the wagon into a deep ditch. We didn't go to school that day, because by the time they got the wagon out of the ditch, it was too, late.
Saturdays, at our house, was a day of baking as we knew there would always be company for dinner on Sunday. Mom would usually bake a ham in the oven, and us girls would have to help with the rest of the baking which might be anywhere from 3 to 6 pies, a cake, and always enough bread to get us through the weekend. We went to Carmel Church on Sunday morning for both Sunday School and preaching. I remember walking, which was around 2 miles in distance, usually several of us in a group. Mom would have dinner ready when we got home. Seems like there were usually several at our house for Sunday dinner. An old minister by the name of R.S. Tague would often come home with us on Sunday for dinner. He and his wife were family friends, along with being our minister. Then, when the kids of our own family married or dated, it made quite a bunch. Usually there was a game of horseshoe pitching going on in the afternoon, so some of the neighbor boys would come by to play.
Do you remember early in the spring when Ted would drill a hole in some of the maple trees along the creek, and put the hollow stick in the hole and run the maple sap into a bottle. We would take turns going to the trees and drinking the juice. Sometimes the bottle might be half full and we thought it was real good then. I can't seem tho think I'd like it so much now.
The Johnson Picnic, when I was young, was held on an island north of Tracy, where the river divided, making what was called a slough. We kids alway looked forward to it as we would get a ride on Uncle John's ferry boat. We would load all the people and food on it and Uncle John would use ropes some way and we would all too soon be on the other side. There wasn't any tables for our food, so we would spread out papers and table cloths on the ground and put the food on them. There was nothing fancy, but we had fun. The men would swim and fish sometimes, but we mostly just visited.
Does anyone remember the gypsies?? The way I remember, they came by almost every summer and camped on a hill east of the Ellis farm. Us kids were scared to death of them. They would come down the lane south of our house and stop at our house and beg for anything Mom and Dad would give. They had an old covered wagon pulled by a team of skinny old horses. Seems like there would be 6 or 8 people and a bunch of dirty little kids. They always needed food, and the folks would give them eggs, potatoes, and other things that we had plenty of at the time. One time, while the older ones were keeping Mom busy at the house, some of the kids were at the hen house trying to run down an old hen. Mom happened to see that just in time. On our way to church, we would have to go on the road past their camp. I remember we would get down in the grader ditch and sneak past because we were so afraid of them. They would come in the spring and leave by the time school started in the fall. I don't remember where they came from or where they went.
Dad and Mom bought an acreage east of the Tracy school house, built a new house and it in the summer of 1926. Ted & Edith Arkema were married that Christmas, and moved to the farm, and Mom & Dad moved in to the new house in Tracy. Bill did most of the work on the house, as he had been a carpenter all his life, and had also built most of the new house on the farm, after the old house had burned in 1917.
Dad set out lots of apple, pear and plum trees, planted a big strawberry and raspberry patch and lots of garden stuff. He wasn't really able to do so much work as he had rheumatism real bad and was soon walking with the crutches. However, he didn't stop doing what was necessary to keep the weeds down. People came long distances to buy his product, and he hired Tracy people to help with berry picking.
In the spring of 1934, our mother found out that she had breast cancer. The doctors didn't seem toknow much to do for it at that time, and she gradually got worse. Finally, as a last resort, she went to a cancer hospital in Savannah, Missouri. She went through the treatment there, but was told it was not a sucess. They brought her back to Oskaloosa to Abbott's Hospital by ambulance, where she stayed a short time. She knew she didn't have long to live, so she wanted to be at home. Dad brought here home and she passed away early in the morning of February 1, 1935.
Dad tried to stay alone, but he had alway been so dependant on Mom, and it didn't work too well. When they were younger, they knew a lady by the name of Nell Lundine. She was of Swedish extraction and she used to visit with Grandma and Grandpa Johnson. Their families had migrated from Sweden at the same time. Within the next year after Mom's death, she came to Tracy to visit aunt Mary Parker, Dad's sister. As she was now widowed and needed a home, and Dad needed a housekeeper, they decided to get married. That was in June of 1936. We were all glad that Dad had someone to cook and care for him and be a companion. Nell, was the complete opposite of our Mother. When we went there to visit, she would bring out her best silver and china. You can imagine how we would shudder, as our children were small and the fear that they might break something was always uppermost in our minds. She took real good care of Dad until her health started to fail. After that, we yook turns staying to help out what we could & give Dad his diabetes medication. In 1948, Dad's health failed and he passed away December 28, 1948. As Nell had also failed, both physically and mentally, we had to put her in a nursing home in Indianola. She passed away March 8, 1949. She was buried beside her first husband in Holdridge, Nebraska.

A late note, omitted at the beginning: Uncle Guffy lived alone at their home place until he began losing his sight. Then a one room house was moved on the yard at Anna and El's and he lived there until his death on August 14, 1967. Anna and El took his meal to him every day and made sure his house was clean. All this, I am sure Uncle Guffy appreciated very much.

Written 1980