Palo Alto County Families

Alfred James Krieg
1887 - 1965



Native Son of Mallard, Iowa

A Patriot who loved his country and a sentimentalist who loved people, Alfred J. Krieg, was revered by his family and friends for his humor and for his honesty, integrity and his desire to help others.

Biographical Sketch
My grandfather, Alfred James Krieg was born on the 7th of February 1887 on his fathers farm outside Mallard, Palo Alto County, Iowa.He was the grandson of German speaking Swiss immigrants who came to the United States in 1854. They homesteaded their Iowa farm in 1868 according to county homestead records. He was the son of John Casper Krieg and Cora Adelle Young. He attended local schools and grew to manhood in the Mallard area.He was united in marriage to Rhoda M. Hersomon the 6th of March 1912 in Emmetsburg, Palo Alto County, Iowa. He was twenty five and she was seventeen years old.To this union seven children were born, they were Marie, Arden, Maureen, Alden, Marian, Marilyn, and Marlene. It is to his second son Alden we must be grateful for the preservation of this collection of poetry and stories. Alfred and his young family lived on the family farm until the early 1930’s when Alfred gave up farming and became a carpenter. His brother Charlie took over the family farm and it remained in the Krieg family until Charlie’s death in the late 1960’s.
My grandparents marriage had always been stormy but when he gave up farming it caused a unforgivable rift between my grandparents. My grandmother loved the land and farming and never forgave my grandfather for leaving the farm. Grandpa worked around Iowa but work was scarce during the depression and he went to west coast and did defense work. Both of his sons and his two oldest daughters were living and working on the west coast at this time also. As his poems show he missed his family and Iowa greatly. After the death of his wife in 1953 he moved permanently to Portland, Oregon where his son Alden and his daughters Marian, Marliyn (Lynn), and Marlene (Jo) also lived. He died in Portland in 1965 and is buried there. The family placed a stone on his wife’s grave in Emmetsburg with both Alfred and Rhoda’s names on it in memory of their parents.
My own memories of my grandfather were of a large happy old fellow who always smoked cigars and told funny stories and always greeted little girls with a soft pinch on the cheek and the greeting “Howdy Dewdrop” or “Good Morning Glory”. He would play endless jolly games of pinochle late into the night with my parents and older brother Ralph or my oldest sister Vernice. He also enjoyed sitting around with all his grandchildren in the evenings and singing lovely old songs like “A Your Adorable” , “Moonlight Bay” or “I Love You a Bushel and a Peck” until all the younger children were sleepy and had to be put to bed. Then the card games began. I sang all these old songs to my children and they never fail to bring back fond memories of my childhood and my Grandpa Krieg.
Nedra Krieg Bennett
December 2002


A Collection of Poems

War on the Pacific
I was standing by the ocean
On the great Pacific shore,
And the waters were in motion
I could hear the billows roar,
O’er the waves theseagulls hovered
As the foam came splashing in.
And I wondered what they covered
In this war so harsh and grim.

As I gazed across the water
That the Ships so buoyant ride,
I could visualize the slaughter
That the waves were trying to hide.
Over there our boys are fighting
Our freedom to defend,
And the Jap’s they’ll keep on smiting
Till this war is at an end.

Then my heart is filled with sorrow
And I gently say a prayer,
For I know that on the morrow
Some of them will not be there.
For I know in Battles gory,
Some sailors true and brave,
Will go down to save Old Glory
To a dark and watery grave.
Now some mother’s heart is pining
For her boy will not come home,
And you’ll see a gold star shining
As she sits there all alone.
And some sweetheart is a yearning
For her love who went away,
Who promised on returning
That they’d name the happy day.

Then as the foam came splashing in
Upon this rugged shore,
I hoped and prayed that ne’er again
We’d have another war.


ByAlfred J. Krieg As he gazed upon the Pacific Ocean during World War II.


All Out for Defense - 1942

We are working on defense work
To help to win the war,
And we will surely do so
As we always have before.
Men of all denomination
Are working side by side,
To help retain the freedom
For which our fathers died.
Some of the men are veterans
Of world war number one,
And they work right on with us
Until the job is done.
Sometimes we get quite lonely
For we’re miles away from home,
But we must keep our dear flag flying
Above the White House dome.
At times our hearts are yearning
For those of whom we’re fond,
But we are not as far from home
As the boys across the pond.
We all must work our hardest
With concrete, nails, and bolts,
For the boys across the water
Are taking harder jolts.
We all must keep on striving
To do our very best,
If we furnish the equipment
Our boys will do the rest.
Sometimes we have no sugar
At times but little meat,
But none of us should grumble
If our boys have lots to eat.
Then we must speed production,
Turn out more planes and tanks,
For we know when they are finished,
They’ll be manned by fighting Yanks.
So we must all cooperate
And do the best we can,
And also buy defense Bonds
To help our Uncle Sam.
Then we must keep on working
In cold, and wind, and dust,
And we’ll lick the Japs and Nazi
“We can, we will, we must.”

By Alfred J. Krieg

Dust Valley Blues
Out in Tooele Valley
The land of wind and dust,
Where raindrops never hit you
And tools will never rust.
You wake up in the morning,
If you have been asleep,
And then step out upon the floor
In dust two inches deep.

You haven’t rested very much,
Your bed is hard as rocks,
You grab your pants and don them,
And then look for your socks.
You look around till you remark
I’ll find them socks or bust,
And them you finally spy them
Beneath a pile of dust.

You rush out to the toilet
A feeling not so fine,
And when you finally get there
You’ve got to stand in line.
And then speed to the mess hall
Afraid you’ll miss you ride,
And you are greeted with these words,
“Go round to other side.”

You stand in line about an hour
Till you are tired to death,
And then you go into the hall
With dust upon your breath.
And then sit at the table
And hunt your fork and spoon,
You’ll find it just beneath the dust
But not so very soon.

You sit there waiting for an hour
To get some food you hope.
And then you get disgusted
And go out on the lope.
You grab your lunch and hurry out
To try and catch your truck,
And you may spy it thru the dust
If you have lots of luck.

You climb upon this rattling truck
‘Bout five feet from the ground,
You stand up all the way to work
There’s no room to sit down.
You ride for miles in morning air
Till you are chilled quite thru,
And then start in to building
Another igloo.

You lift the pan up o’re you
They’re heavier than lead
And now and then a pan comes down
And bangs you on the head.
You work beneath a blazing sun
In dust up to your knees,
And when you stop to eat your lunch
You wheeze and cough and sneeze.

You eat the stuff they call your lunch,
All covered o’er with dust,
T’was just the same the day before
When you so loudly cussed.
They feed so much saltpeter
In all your daily food,
That even if you do go home
You won’t be any good.

And when you go to get a drink
You then will show your wrath,
You say this water would be fine
If we had it for bath.
And when you take your daily bath
Beside the toilet sink,
You say this water would be fine
If we had it for drink.

When you come in from work at eve
All filled with vague disgust,
You’ll find your only Sunday clothes
Are covered o’er with dust.
You look upon your cot and spy
A notice of your rent,
Then find that thieves have cleaned you
They’ve only left the tent.

You take a bath and then proceed
Back to that old mess hall,
But you are mighty lucky
If you’re waited on at all.
You then lie down upon your cot
To try and take a nap,
But just as you start dozing off
You hear that old tent flap.

You finally do go back to sleep
So tired you could die,
But just as you start into dream
A train goes screaming by.
You then turn over on your cot
Your body wracked with pain,
And hear a loud approaching noise
Ye Gods, another train !!

Eventually all tired out
You fall asleep again,
And dream of home now miles away
Of crops and grass and rain,
And then you dream of pay day
You’ll have a little sport.
But you are disillusioned
For your checks are always short.

You wake up in the morning
All tired and stiff and sore.
And feel you do not give a darn
If you never work no more.
But then you go to work again,
Follow the same routine,
Just a longing for a place
To work where it is clean.

Good-bye Tooele Valley
I’m leaving here at noon,
And if I ever do return
It will be much too soon.
I’m going back to civilization
To wife and kids and home,
And there I’ll settle down for good
No more I care to roam.

Composed by A. J. Krieg
Mallard, Iowa

So Lonely

You’ve gone away and I’m alone,
No one to kiss, when I come home.
No pleasant smile to greet me now,
No hand to lay upon my brow.
No sweet words now from one so fair.
Nobody now who’d really care,
If I get wet from soaking rain.
If I was sick or in great pain.
Last night I lay upon my bed,
The pillow ‘neath my aching head.
You’re soft white arm was not in place.
Where oft I’ve lain my shaven face.
I miss your prayers when I retire.
In mornings when I build the fire.
I miss you evenings when I dine.
For your company my dear I pine.
As I sit here upon the chair,
There’s memories of you everywhere. The box behind the kitchen range.

The curtains that I will not change.
The towel that hangs upon the nail.


Your teapot and the water pail.
The clothes a hanging on the rack.
You fixed for me ere you went back.
The books arranged so very swell.
The Bible to save me from “Hell.”
Now darling you can understand
They all were touched by your dear hand.
Since you have gone, my darling wife
There’s something missing from my life.
And in my heart there’ll be a pain
Till we’re together once again.

(this poem was written in 1943 while working in Cepale’s Beach, Washington after my wife had paid me a visit and had left to go back to Iowa)
Composed by Alfred J. Krieg

A Poem to You My Love

To-night I’m sad and lonely
As I sit here all alone
I have no dear ones near me
And I’m far away from home.

I dream of you in night time
I think of you by day
And my heart is always heavy
With you so far away.

I took you in your tender teens
Made you my bonnie bride
And now for more than thirty years
We’ve traveled side by side.

You loved me so intensely
I was your only love
And for a few short years
You were my turtle dove.

And then I spurned your dearest love
And trampled on your heart
From that time on for many years
We drifted far apart.

And then we sowed our wild oats
Reaped nothing but disgust
For we were both mistaken
We just satisfied their lust.

Thank God we both awakened
Before to late my dear
And confessed to one another
And made our conscience clear.

And now you love another
And my heart is filled with pain
But you’re still my children’s mother
And I’ll win you back again.

Composed by Alfred J. Krieg


Untitled poem
Last night I sat on the bunkhouse step
Thinking my dear of you
The silvery moon was shinning down
And the stars were twinkling too

I thought of the happy days gone by
Sitting there all alone
I thought of dear old Iowa
My children, wife, and home

My mind went back to when we met
You were a tiny girl
You used to climb upon my lap
And put my hair in curl

You grew into a comely lass
And I never will forget
And thought the years have speeded past
I still remember yet

The happy smiles you gave to me
When I came to court you dear
Bring back a pleasant memory
And I yearn to have you near

And then I took you for my wife
Those were such happy days
But then came trouble, quarrels and strife
We both went different ways

But now your hair has turned to gray
I love you more than then
And darling I will never say
Things to break your heart again

And now though we are miles apart
I think of you always
And hope you think of me sweetheart
For we’ll have happier days

And though I’m very lonely honey
Alone out here in the West
I’m trying to earn the money
To build us a love nest.

Written at Wendover, Utah
in 1943 during World War II
By Alfred J. Krieg


Moonlight Blues

Last night I strolled along the beach
Watching the out-going tide
And wished you were within my reach
A walking by my side.

I tried to visualize you there
A walking on the sand
I saw your face so sweet and fair
We were walking hand in hand.

The silvery moon was shinning bright
The stars were twinkling too
It made my heart feel warm and light
Just to merely think of you.

It made me think of days my love
When you and I first met
Those are the days I’m thinking of
The days I can’t forget.

Now we are miles apart my dear
And both of us feel blue
But let us both keep up good cheer
For there’s nothing we can do.

Remember dear the darkest hour
Is just before the dawn
And after every thunder shower
The sun shines on the lawn.

So let us not bewail and pout
And mourn both night and day
For when again the sun comes out
We’ll be happy blithe and gay.

Composed by Alfred J. Krieg


Woman

She’s an angel in truth, a demon in fiction
A woman’s the greatest of all contradiction
She’s afraid of a cockroach,
she’ll scream at a mouse

But she’ll tackle a husband as big as ahouse
She’ll take him for better,
She’ll take him for worse
She’ll split his head open and then be his nurse

And when he is well and can get out of bed
She’ll pick up a teapot and throw at his head
She’s faithful, deceitful, keen-sighted and blind
She’s crafty, she’s simple, she’s cruel, she’s kind

She’ll lift a man up, she’ll cast a man down
She’ll make him her hero, her ruler, her clown
You fancy she’s this, but you’ll find that she’s that
For she’ll play like a kitten, and fight like a cat.

Composed by Alfred J. Krieg


My Paradise

I wish to tell you, with all due pride
About the place where I reside,
“A beauty spot, out in the West.”
Where nature must have done her best,
To make this Glen a paradise,
That can’t be beat at any price.

The warm, bright sun, the gentle showers,
The scenery you could watch for hours,
The verdant slopes, the whispering pines,
The soft green Ferns, the clinging Vines,
The murmuring brooks, the woodland flowers,
The shady nooks, the sheltered bowers,
The houses nestling, among the hills,
The winding roads, its joys and thrills,
The evenings so serene and quiet
No clamoring noises in the night
The creeping daylight of the dawn
As quiet and gentle as a “Fawn”
The frisking lambs, the song of birds,
Are all too beautiful for words.
So now you see how I am blessed ?
In my little home, out in the West.

Composed by Alfred J. Krieg


Tree of Knowledge

How nice twould be if knowledge grew
On bushes as the berries do.
Then we could plant our spelling seed
And gather all the words we need.
If we wished to learn Chinese,
We’d just go out and shake the trees.
Our sum’s from off our slates we’d wipe,
And wait for figures to be ripe.
Language would drift around like leaves,
So everything would be correct if you please.
Reading and etc we would know,
Everything perfect from head to toe.
But until that day comes around,
Our lessons in our books will be found.

By Alfred J. Krieg

Grandmas Cookie Jar

There is something in the Kitchen
And it stands upon a shelf
All the Kiddies have an itchin
Just to go and help themselves.

It is something quite attractive
For the kiddies near and far,
And the kids get really active
For it’s Grandma’s cookie jar.

There are things that I could mention
That are found about the place,
But there’s none gets more attention
As depicted by their Face.

She makes cookies by the dozens
And they’re always up to par,
And the kids and all their cousins
Head for Grandma’s cookie jar.

Sometimes they’re made with icing
And sometimes they are plain,
But they always are enticing
And they like them just the same.

But whether they are round or square
Or just a plain fig bar,
You’ll always find them gathered there
Round Grandma’s cookie jar.

Composed by Alfred J. Krieg


Trust in Jesus

When you’re feeling sand and lonely,
As with strangers you reside
There is one to turn to only
Then let Jesus be your guide.

When you fear for your behavior,
And you’re tempted to go bad
Put your faith in our dear Savior,
He will cheer you when you’re sad.

There are times when we are tempted
To stray from the righteous path,
For there’s none of us exempted
In this world of storm and wrath.

When the gentle whispering breezes
Waft your thoughts of far off home,
If you trust your heart with Jesus,
You will never feel alone.

As we gaze upon the ocean
At the trees and virgin sod,
It is like a soothing lotion
For it’s the handiwork of God.

His is love that never ceases
So when your heart is filled with grief,
Just put your trust in Jesus
And you’ll always find relief.

There are times we’re sick and weary
And feel so sad and blue,
But our Lord was always cherry
And he suffered more than you.

Than tho we’re father, sister, brother
Tho we’re many miles apart,
Let us pray for one another
It will cheer our lonely heart.

And when this war is finished
And we trust our lives with Him
If our faith has not diminished
We’ll be happy once again.

Composed by Alfred J. Krieg
Easter Sunday 1943 At Marshfield, Oregon,2500 miles from home.

Service With A Smile

When you’re hungry and you wish to eat
While you’re in Auburn town
Just patronize the Rainbow
For there’s no use looking round.
Just park your automobile
Don’t drive another mile
For the food it is delicious
And they serve you with a smile.

The meats are nice and juicy
And the vegetables are swell,
They give you dandy service
And you do not have to yell.
But if they’re very busy
And you must wait a while,
Please now don’t get angry
For they serve you with a smile.

The coffee it is excellent
The best that you could have,
And you don’t drink lots of water Just to get a little “Jav.” The waitresses dress neatly, Everything is right in style,
But the best part of the service is,
They give it with a smile.

The dessert and the ice cream
Will give you a surprise,
They also have variety
In a nice line of pies,
So if you act a gentleman
And refrain from language vile,
You’ll always get good service
And they’ll give it with a smile.

Composed by Alfred J. Krieg
(The manager of the Rainbow Café had this poetry put in the Auburn (Oregon) paper for an ad and he gave me ten meals for writing it. this is the one I sent to Aldie.)

Herb’s International Flavor

When you’re in the town of Mallard
On highway seventeen.
And you’re feeling mighty “HUNGRY”
And your appetite is keen.

Then you better go a “RUSHIN”
To Evelyn’s Café,
Where they always “FI-JI” plenty
Before you go away.

The cooking is delicious
And the pastry is superb,
And it’s also quite nutritious,
For it’s prepared by HERB.
The coffee’s also excellent,
The best that you could have.
You don’t drink a lot of water
Just to get a little “JAV.”

The potatoes they are “IRISH”
And the steak is sometimes “SWISS.”
But they also serve you “FRENCH FRIES”
So you can’t complain of this.

And when they serve you “TURKEY”
There is never too much “GREECE,”
It’s served on best of “CHINA”
But not by “JAPANESE.”

So when you are in Mallard
Don’t hasten to get away,
Until you’ve had your luncheon,
At EVELYN’S CAFÉ………..

Composed by A. J. Krieg


Mrs. Judkins is so gentle and kind
Mrs. Judkins makes me think of that mother of mine.
She runs errands with a glad heart
Seems more than willing to do her part.
It’s a credit to know her I am sure
She tries so hard your blues to cure
We will meet again I hope someday
In heaven above when we get our pay.

Composed by
Alfred J. Krieg


An Ode To Our Anniversary

Years have passed away, my wife,
Since I took you for my bride,
And tho’ we’ve passed thru storm and strife,
Our love has never died.

Oh, happy days we’ve spent, dear, In our years of wedded bliss, And I only wish that you were here On your lips to plant a kiss.

Some people came between us, love,
In the dark and stormy past,
But God was watching from above
And our love they could not blast.

The gold has vanished from your hair
And silver takes its place,
But there’s no one else that can compare
With your dear, familiar face.

We’ve strolled beneath the moonlight
In pleasant reveries,
Now the smell of dew on earth at night
Brings back fond memories.

The days are dark and dreary
With you so far away,
But do not worry, dearie,
I’ll come back to you some day.

The nights are just a nightmare
Without you, turtle dove,
But if I know you really care
I’ll carry on my love.

More than thirty years have passed away
Since we promised to be true,
I hope that I will see the day
When I’ll always be with you.

Composed by AlfredJ. Krieg
This poem was written for his wife Rhoda Hersom Krieg.
She was born 29 Nov 1895 in Searsboro, Poweshiek Co
Iowa and died 29 Jan 1952 in Emmetsburg, Iowa.

To Alden

I dedicate this message
To you, my second son,
For you deserve the prestige
That you’ve already won.
My lad, you’re standing at the foot Of the ladder of success, And now this war has come and put You to the acid test.

But you’ll make good my lad, I know,
For you’re not afraid to work.
And it doesn’t matter where you go
Your job you’ll never shirk.
So if you keep on striving
To make yourself a name,
You won’t be long arriving
To wealth and power and fame.

If you are drafted in the ranks
Before you graduate,
You’ll be a credit to the Yanks
And also your home State.
So no matter where you go, my lad,
Be upright, square, and true
And you’ll be a credit to you Dad,
And folks will honor you.

YOUR DAD (Written to Alden while in college in 1943)
Alden Floyd Krieg was born 9 July 1924 in Mallard
and died in 1997 in Arizona and is buried in Portland, Oregon.





Tribute To My Daughter-In-Law

I’ve a daughter-in-law
The best you have seen
For short we will just call her Phyl. She’s a good wife indeed And bound to succeed Iowa
For she tackles her work with a will.
She’s a dandy help-mate
With the best she does rate,
She is tidy and neat
And cooks good things to eat
A better mate he could not find.

She’s really a pal, this slip of a gal,
And sure gets a kick out of life.
She’s candid and frank
With the best she does rank
Makes her husband an excellent wife.
She likes to play tricks
On her husband she picks
They really do have lots of fun.
When something goes wrong
With a smile or a song,
She puts the blues on the run.

SO no don’t you see
I’m as glad as can be
He captured this girl of his choice.
For she’s friendly and true,
And I’ll never get through
Singing praises while I have a voice.

Composed by Alfred J. Krieg
This is Phyllis Marie Fisher Krieg, wife of Alden Krieg
She was born 8 Sept. 1926 in Curlew, Palo Alto County,
and died 8 Mar. 1976 in Portland, Oregon.

Ode to Alden Krieg, Jr.

I have a little grandson
Who’s bonny, blithe and gay.
He’s very very handsome
And gets cuter every day. He has eyes of azure blue
And also has red hair.
I know that he’ll be fair and true
And always on the square.
I’ll not be here to praise him
Or watch his rise to fame,
But I know that they will raise him
To be a credit to my name.

And now a message to his dad
As he grows to be a man ---
I’m very fond of this young lad
And will help him all I can.
There are little eyes upon you,
And they’re watching night and day.
There are little ears that quickly
Take in everything you say.
There are little hands all eager
To do everything you do.
And a little boy who’s dreaming
Of the day he’ll be like you.

There’s a wide-eyed little fellow
Who believes you’re always right,
And his eyes are always open
And he watches day and night.
You are setting an example
In each kindness that you do
For the little boy who’s waiting
To grow up to be like you.
And if this point the did attain,
It would make me very proud,
And I’d be glad he bore my name
In any group or crowd.

By his Grandfather - Alfred J. Krieg
February 29, 1960
Son of Alden Krieg.


Tribute To Joel

God brought him here one happy day,
He was our pride and joy,
Now he has taken him away
Our own, our precious boy.

We’re going to miss his pleasant smile,
His happy childhood ways,
God left him with us for awhile,
And those were happy days.


This sun still shines and still it rains,
Though the one we loved has gone,
But in our hearts he still remains
As time goes marching on.


We know where he has gone to stay,
He’ll never suffer pain,
And hope that on our judgment day
That we will meet again.


By Grandfather Krieg


(Irene ( his mother) gave this to the minister and he made his sermon around this poem. The songs she had sung were “I’ll Be A Sunbeam For Jesus” and “Precious Jewels.” Joel Ulrich Krieg died of polio at age 6 1/2. He was born 17 Jan 1944 and died 13 Oct. 1950.

A Tribute To Dorothy Aust

There is a lady that I know
Who is pleasant true and kind
And folks like her, Where err you go
You’ll very seldom find.
Though she has troubles of her own
She’s always spreading cheer
She is the darling of her home
Folks love her far and near.
This lady has five lovely girls
A dandy husband too
She does their hair in fancy curls
And sends them off to school.
This lady lives upon a farm
Her husband she adores
She always goes out to the barn
And helps him with the chores
A happy family you will find
And they all cooperate.
For harmony is in their mind
And with the best they rate
You’ll always find her just the same
In cold or storm or frost
And if you want to know her name
Its Mrs. Dorothy Aust.


Composed by Alfred J. Krieg


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