Saturday, January 10, 2004
UNCLE LOUIE
It is Saturday morning and frosty outside. It’s a good time to have a cup of coffee and visit about the uncles. Do the Danes like coffee? If you know the English like tea then you know the answer.
The oldest brother, Louie, had the worst of times. Grandpa bought land at Nacora, in northeast Nebraska. It was on an Indian Reservation and life was cruel even in the best of times. Grandpa had dug out the side of a hill for protection against the weather. When he sent for Grandma he had the barest of necessities in which to live. How she managed Louie with the hard work they had to do is a mystery.
Any money they had went for cattle and a team of horses. The first building on the property was a barn and Grandma worked along side of Grandpa to complete the structure. Louie was pressed into work beyond his years and was expected to work like a man and think like a man.
Little is known about those times because Louie was eventually hired-out to other farmers. We do know he married and had two sons. Years later he was able to own his own farm and made a living from it. Young men all over the country were breaking away from their families and striking out on their own. Some eventually returned to stay while some never came back. In Louie’s case he never came home again.
It seems strange that families could lose track of each other so completely. How many times did Grandma wonder where he was and if she would ever see him again? Did Grandpa ever regret farming him out? Like so many of the people who put their life into the land, little is known or recorded of them. Still, we owe them respect for doing all they could with so little. What were Louie’s dreams? Did he realize any of them? Was he happily married and did he enjoy his sons? How did he die…..a farming accident, failing health or old age? These things are known and recorded only by God. For now we will have to let that be the end of his story.
I quizzed my Dad about Louie and some of the other relatives to find out how they fit into the family picture. He told me that his folks never talked of them and boys never thought about things like that. Even he knew little about his family history. This is why I am trying to record what I can remember for my own children. Once family members are gone, much knowledge is lost. We each owe a debt to those who have gone before us.
Essentially Esther
The oldest brother, Louie, had the worst of times. Grandpa bought land at Nacora, in northeast Nebraska. It was on an Indian Reservation and life was cruel even in the best of times. Grandpa had dug out the side of a hill for protection against the weather. When he sent for Grandma he had the barest of necessities in which to live. How she managed Louie with the hard work they had to do is a mystery.
Any money they had went for cattle and a team of horses. The first building on the property was a barn and Grandma worked along side of Grandpa to complete the structure. Louie was pressed into work beyond his years and was expected to work like a man and think like a man.
Little is known about those times because Louie was eventually hired-out to other farmers. We do know he married and had two sons. Years later he was able to own his own farm and made a living from it. Young men all over the country were breaking away from their families and striking out on their own. Some eventually returned to stay while some never came back. In Louie’s case he never came home again.
It seems strange that families could lose track of each other so completely. How many times did Grandma wonder where he was and if she would ever see him again? Did Grandpa ever regret farming him out? Like so many of the people who put their life into the land, little is known or recorded of them. Still, we owe them respect for doing all they could with so little. What were Louie’s dreams? Did he realize any of them? Was he happily married and did he enjoy his sons? How did he die…..a farming accident, failing health or old age? These things are known and recorded only by God. For now we will have to let that be the end of his story.
I quizzed my Dad about Louie and some of the other relatives to find out how they fit into the family picture. He told me that his folks never talked of them and boys never thought about things like that. Even he knew little about his family history. This is why I am trying to record what I can remember for my own children. Once family members are gone, much knowledge is lost. We each owe a debt to those who have gone before us.
Essentially Esther
