Message from Bob Hosmer (’56): Lynnwood, WA
Just want to wish every one on this blog a very merry Christmas.
It will be my second one without my Anne Katrine. But for THIS I have Jesus.
Bob Hosmer (‘56)
The Stinky Limberger Cheese Mystery
Story from Vickie Metcalfe (’70): Bottineau, ND
I got to know some pretty fine friends; Hank, Hilmer and Angus through our mutual friend Carroll. I enjoyed many a Saturday lunch special at the Bowling Alley amongst that delightful group! I enjoyed every minute hearing a wealth of stories.
Carroll and Hilmer were WWII Veterans who discussed stories of life on the Atlantic and Alaska front respectively, while Angus and Hank would discuss life on the North Dakota home front.
I became fond of Hank as we visited about common interests, places and people. Hank’s brother, Clarence and my Uncle Bill Metcalfe shared holiday dinners at our farm the last years of my dad’s life.
Hank as a teenager began to play the fiddle and learned how to play the Swedish Waltz by listening to a Victorolla which had to be cranked. He told me, he was shy about playing in front of people.
Hank was able to attend Dunseith High School by staying and working for the Evans family.
He shared about one lovely, sunny, warm spring day which brought big brother Clarence to town. A wild wind suddenly blew in, and he found it difficult to stand or walking north up the street of Dunseith. The wind brought a sudden snowstorm. He rode along into the hills while his brother managed to drive North from Dunseith to where he lived by Bill and Mary Metcalfe.
Hank shared that Archie and Bernice saw him and Mae on the day they were married. They insisted he and Mae come to their farm where they hosted a wedding supper.
He shared about life on the home front during WWII, the rationing, and things people were reluctant to talk about openly.
One thing, was a rather strange balloon which landed in the trees. It was buried quietly not telling anyone about it. Another mysterious event happened in the neighborhood. Cows were fine for the morning milching and dead by the evening. Various neighbors lost cattle.
During berry season, Hank shared fondly of Mae and her wonderful Juneberry sauce .
And now and then, I could get him to share a brownie or chocolate Nanimo bar and tell me more stories!
One Saturday a year or so before he passed, we were sharing lunch and a visit at the Bakery, I said,
“Hank I always wondered about when my dad was in 7th or 8th grade.” “You would have been in High School, is that right”. He said, “Yes.
He listened while I said, Did you ever hear about my dad putting limberger cheese onto the hot school radiator, it took days to find where it was at. And Dunseith School was closed down?”
“I’ve always wondered, how my dad was able to purchase the cheese?” “He couldn’t have had much money.”
Hank very quietly looked down.
I suddenly felt suspicious. I said, “HANK! Do you know?”
He said, “Myron, Me and some other fellows were pitching pennies playing some game…..”
I listened awhile he spoke softly.
He cleared his throat, “I lost. So, I had to buy the cheese.” He shook his head.
I said… speaking in my teacher voice, “Did you big boys, put my dad up to putting the cheese in the radiator?”
All Hank did was nod “Yes”.
I said, “Hank, My dad never told on you.” “He would never tell me the rest of the story. Did any one of you ever tell?”
Hank just shook his head. No.
We both sat quiet for a minute. I began to laugh, he joined me.
We laughed together, then quietly pondered that lifelong secret of school boys. Cliff, the 7th/8th grader and Hank the upperclassman supplier, who never told secrets.
I’ve learned sometimes.. it takes patience, listening and the passing of time to learn the whole story.
Thanks Gary and friends.
Later, Vickie
Joke of the day
Posted by Don Martel (Former DHS Principal): Rosemount, MN
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Blog (216) posted on September 8, 2008
Folks, our search is now narrowed to one person to find from the 40’s classes. Reading through some of the achieve Turtle Mountain Star papers from 1940, I noticed where Irene Nelson (41) had a brother named Rollie. I found a Rollie Nelson living in Leeds ND. When I called him, he was the guy from Dunseith with a sister named Irene. He said Irene passed away about 10 years ago. Rollie was with the class of 46, but his family moved from Dunseith in his Junior year. I have added him to the class of 46 and will be sending him a hard copy of his class list.
That leaves Thelma Medlang, from the Little Prairie community to locate. She was with the class of 41. In the Bottineau 1984 centennial book, I found an Inga Medland, originally from Rolette county that married Arnold Bjornson. I think Arnold and Inga are both deceased, but I found Arnold Jr. living in Alaska. No one was home when I called. I hope Thelma was part of his mothers family. Gary
Request for Dick Johnson (68) from Colette Hosmer (64):
Dick,
Would it be possible to post a copy of Herman Strietzel’s life history? Maybe it’s too long — too much to scan — but if not, I think most of us would enjoy reading it.
Thanks,
Colette
Request for Dick, Reply to Vickie & Message to Allen Richard from Cheryl Larson Dakin (71):
Hi Gary and all……I love hearing the stories about the early days in the area. I am looking forward to reading more of Vicki’s installments on Carroll Carlson and also Dick, if you would care to share any of your Uncle Hermann’s manuscript, it would be great. To Susan (and Allen) Richard, it’s so wonderful to hear you’re doing well in your treatment. Our prayers are with you in your recovery. Hang in there.
Cheryl Larson Dakin (’71)
From Bev Morinville Azure (72):
| Conrads to Alan Houle I can still see him ……when they came out of the boys locker room he was always bent over and looked like he was coming out charging. I have never forgotten that………….. him and Jim Berbue were something else . WTG Alan GOD BLESS YOU …………BEV |
From Diane Larson Sjol (70):
Hi everyone,
First of all, thank you to those of you who have donated and are
making my participation in the Walk for the Cure Breast Cancer 3 Day
walk possible.
Just a reminder….to those of you who are planning to donate but
haven’t, time is drawing near. I leave in 1 1/2 weeks (Sept. 17) and
still need $1100 to meet my goal of $2200. Each participant has to
raise a minimum of $2200 to walk the 60 mile walk. So, please take a
moment and go to http://www.the3Day.org/ and make a donation. Click
on “donate now” and then type in my name and state. When my name comes
up, click on it and the rest is self explanatory or you can mail a
check made out to Breast Cancer 3 Day and send it to me at 712 South
Main St., Minot, ND 58701. No amount is too small. It all adds up.
The money goes to breast cancer research in attempt to find a cure.
Imagine if they find a cure for breast cancer, what that will mean for
finding a cure for other cancers. Most of us have been touched in
some way by cancer, so please take a moment and make a donation. When
you do, email me the name of a person you want me to walk for or to
remember and I will write that person’s name on my shirt.
Again, thank you for making my participation in this walk possible.
Diane Sjol
(Part 2) CARROLL CARLSON’S TRAVELING YEARS, BY VICKIE METCALFE (70):
SUMMER OF 1937, CARROLL AND ARCHIE AS RANCH HANDS IN CHINOOK #2
Five o’clock a.m. the daily routine would begin. The crew would eat breakfast prepared by the ranch cook at the ranch house. Usually, the cook was married and her husband was called a “chore boy”. The chore boy milked four or five cows and did the chores which needed to be done to aid the cook in her job. Carroll and Archie’s first job was to help with the lambing. After a ewe lambed, she and her lambs were taken out to a “bunch”. Carroll tended a bunch herd, accompanied by, ” a good little, well trained, sheep dog,( “English Shepherd, or some such thing.” “Old John Lind” was also a bunch herder. (John Lind was a former early rural Dunseith farmer, who lived in a little apartment in downtown Chinook during the winters and work seasonal work for Miller Brothers.) When the “bunch” grew to about fifty ewes, four bunches would be combined together. Then, added to a bigger herd. And finally to the open range for the summer with a sheepherder.”
The Sprinkle Ranch Site was managed by MacIver. The Sprinkle Ranch held the access road to the Druniak farm. The Druniak’s lived about a mile from the Sprinkle Ranch, up a dirt trail which wound itself around the slightly rolling hills and through the Sprinkle Ranch yard. The Druniak’s, were Mick’s (Gary Morris’) grandparents. The Druniak’s had a small farm, raising pigs, chickens, and milking cows The family came through the Sprinkle Ranch to the main road into town where they sold their cream. Mr. Druniak also cut hair for the area ranch hands. They were among the first people Carroll and Archie met. The family included, Mr. and Mrs.Druniak and their three children, Beatrice, Monica, and Francis. Beatrice was the mother of Mick.
When springs work was completed, Carroll and Archie found themselves laid off for a week or two before haying season. Carroll and Archie were not known for idle moments. They made the best of their time off by site seeing. Together, Carroll and Archie made a down payment on an old Model A, and pooled their finances to continue the payments. The two ranch hands, with Archie driving most of the time toured the Bears Paw and local establishments. Carroll recalls that Archie “liked to drive fast and get places.” They saw the area sites ,and went to picture shows or dances in Cleveland, Montana double-dating.
Close to Chinook, Montana is the Chief Joseph National Battlefield. Chief Joseph a brilliant military strategist led his people on foot and by horse over a thousand miles of the tough terrain of E. Washington, Idaho, Wyoming and Montana, pursued by the military. It was near Chinook, the Nez Pierce people fought their last battle, less than sixty years previous to Carroll and Archie’s traveling to the area via Model A. Carroll says, “he toured the site , but never found any interesting souvenirs.”
When haying season came, Carroll remained at the Sprinkle Ranch working for MacIver , Archie went a few miles down the road to Cleveland, Montana, to the Chris Miller Ranch which also ran sheep. The Chris Miller ranch was located within a mile of Cleveland.
The summer work ended. In the late fall of ’37, Carroll and Archie sold the Model A and hopped a train back to the Turtle Mountains of North Dakota where they wintered
Carroll’s Traveling Years will Continue with part 3 tomorrow:
Another “GREAT” story from Larry Hackman (66):
The pocketknife story
Back in the day everyone carried a pocketknife. For those that don’t know what a pocketknife is. It is a knife with blades and other type metal items such as leather punch, or cork screw. or bottle opener, that fold into the handle, and it is small enough to be carried in your pants pocket. At one time almost every man carried a pocketknife. Even the young boys had a pocketknife in their pocket. I suppose it became a necessity, pretty much like most farmers carry a plier and now everyone carries a cell phone. A plier was a necessity for a farmer to carry because if something broke while running a peice of equipment you could tighten a bolt, turn in a screw or take a plier and a piece of wire to hubble the broken item together to make it through the day or complete a project. You wouldn’t have to shut down. The pocketknife became the tool of choice during the leather age. When animals such as horses were fitted with leather hanesses to perform such tasks as towing hay rakes, mowers, plows, and pulling out tree stumps. Horses were used to do just about everything that is done with a tractor today It seems like a long time back, but it is less then a generation a go. What would we all do if we suddenly lost all electrical power and there was no gasoline. We don’t want to go there do we, after all, this a pocketknife story.
The pocketknife became a handy tool to have when them leather harnesses broke, you could cut off a leather strap, punch some holes and make a repair to the harness on the spot, and continue working. Just like the plier when something broke on the equipment you were using, you could walk over to the neighbors (you wouldn’t want to take it off your own fence, would you?) adjacent barbeb wire pasture fence and using the plier to cut one strand of wire from that two strand barbed wire,perferably the strand without the barbs (little harder to work with the wire when its got them barbs on it) and go back and make the repair by wiring it together with the aid of that plier. The boys would use them pocketknives to make sling shots, and harass frogs and snakes. I remember using them to strip bark off a birch bark tree to make tepees and canoes. I remember it was either Mrs. Strietzel or Mrs. Halvorson up at Hilltop School where they had one or two of the classes build a relief of a Indian Village in a sand box. They used birch bark to represent the hide of animals and willow branchs to construct all the items in the box. I remember that they even colored the sand to make it look like the village sat on the edge of a stream, and with mountians in the background..
You remember them bib overalls all the farmers use to wear and the kids always refused to wear? They had the pocket for the plier and the loop for the hammer along side the leg. They had the pockets just below the waist two in front and two in back. In front you carried your pocketknife. Remember the old timers saying to always close the blades of your poketknife before putting it into your pocket. You never asked why. You just understood why. The back pockets were used, one for the grease rag and one for the snot rag, and yes, they did pull and use the wrong rag for the right thing once in awhile. You remember seeing people with grease on their nose and __. You get the idea. The bib of the overalls had two pockets with a pencil holder between them. One pocket was used for their billfold and the other for Prince Albert in the can or a bag of Bull Durum tobacco and their cigarette rolling papers. Oh, yes the other pocket below the waist and in front is where they put there cigarette lighter. If they didn’t smoke, and they had nothing in there front pockets, but their hands. They would be accused of playing pocket pool. Must of been some type of game? Maybe some old timer will reply, and explain what that was all about? Do they still make bib overalls? What a good ice breaker? Everyone on the cruise should or could wear bib overalls to dinner the first night and bring yourselves along a pocket knife for whittling. Old timers use to say that your mouth works better, when your hands are busy. Did somebody else already suggest this about the bib overalls? Maybe they wern’t going on the memory cruise, neither? Just kidding.
The pocketknife was a mighty handy instrument, not only was it used to repair harnesses it was used to cut off corns, trim toe nails and finger nails and to clean the fromunda from beneath them nails. The old timers were mighty proud of their knives. Whenever they sat down to take a break in the shade of some old oak tree or on the step of the house in the evening, they would bring out their pocketknife and their pocket emery stone and start sharpening their pocket knife. They would sharpen and sharpen until the blade was sharper then a razors edge. My dad would always say that a sharp knife will not cut you but a dull one would. A sharp knife will go where you want it to cut. You have to force a dull knife and if you have to force it, you do not have it under control and you are bound to cut yourself and the other lesson was to never cut toward your body, always cut away from yourself. I still have a couple of my dads old pocketknives laying around here somewhere. The cutting edge of the blades are worn into curves from being sharpened. That was the way a lot of the old timers relaxed after a hard day, sharpening their pocketknives and listening to the radio. I think a lot of the pocketknives went dull when people started watching television.
Another reason them pocketknives were kept so sharp was that they came in mighty handy when taking care of the male calfs and pigs. A farmer just never knew when it would be time to perform surgery on a critter. They say the testicles must be removed to keep the meat from tasting and smelling strong when cooked and that the animals do put on weight faster if they don’t have these. It must be the results of that damn testosterone?
Now to get to the real meat of this story. No pun intended! I was a young fellow about 13 years old up in the Turtle Mountians visiting my three uncles when this subject came up. Apparently Uncle Guss had bought a male pig (bore) for butchering in the fall. This was no small pig, I’m guessing that it weighed around 250 lbs. Back in them days not to many people had a squeeze chute to immobilize a critter. They didn’t, and probably wouldn’t have taken the time to use it anyway. Anyway, these three, 60 year old men crawled into this pen with this hog, I stayed on the outside of the pen. I guess I was being held back in reserve in case they needed someone to tell them how to get out of the pen. Sounds good to me. Anyway, Uncle Guss in the pen with his two brothers, grabbed this hog first and using his shoulder pushed it up against the side of the pen. Uncle Bill the oldest of the three got a bear hug on the mid section of that hog and together they forced it over onto its side with its back up against the pen. Guss then changed his position to actually sitting on the pigs head. Then uncle Bill changed his position to actually sitting on top of the pigs mid-section. Do to this tag team match-up in no time they had that pig under complete control. Uncle Frank got out his razor sharp pocketknife made two slits and removed that hogs package so efficiently and fast that after he was released that bore was walking around like he was still master of his domain.
While walking back to the house from the barn yard and while discussing the medical procedure that was just used without the benefit of anesthesia, Uncle Guss started complaining that he thought that damn hog had bit him on the butt.
Apparently that hogs teeth wern’t as sharp as that pocket knife? We all started to chuckle a little as Uncle
guss reached around to his back-side and started complaining about that hog tearing the right back pocket off his bib overalls and also getting a piece of his hide. I took a couple of steps backward and reported to uncle Guss that he had a pretty big strawberry on his right butt cheek. Uncle Guss asked if it was bleeding? I said, no it wasn’t, but that it looks like it wants to. He said, that he would put some horse linament on it, and it would be alright. Seems like them old timers used that linament for everything. I remember my dad using that stuff on his legs when they started giving him problems from MS. I remember that it smelled terrible. I wonder if it was made for horses, or humans?
So, after making you all aware of how to tackle a hog and remove its package. Is there any of you fellows willing to tackle a 250 lb. bore. I’ll volunteer to stay outside the pen and give pointers as you request them. Remember you need a very sharp pocketknife. I remember them old timers saying, when discussing someone that had done someone wrong, that they ought to be castrated with a dull knife. Apparently that would really hurt.
Dick, Do you have any Idea where Randy lives? Hee, Hee, Hee.
I don’t know what he said that made me think of this story? Maybe he remembers.
Remember, Laugh and the whole world laughs with you! Cry and you cry alone!
Larry