8 minute read
FARMING PROVIDES CLOSE-KNIT FAMILY TIES
By Bob Fitch
Discussing his family’s legacy in Plymouth County, Ralph Kruse turns philosophical about farm families in rural America. “Our neighborhood is no different than anybody else's neighborhood. If there was a problem, if somebody was sick or if somebody died, it's unbelievable how the people come to help.
It's been that way for as long as I can remember; and I know it was that way back when my great grandfather lived here. I can remember going to plowing bees, threshing bees or combining … there's always people to help. I ain't trying to say that we're special, it's just the way the farming community is.”
Ralph continued the story: “I had an elderly neighbor once and I went to help him with something. He was so grateful he almost cried. He says, ‘I can’t help you back.’ I told him, ‘Did you help somebody else years ago?’ He said, ‘Well, yeah.’ I says, ‘Now I'm going to help you. And guess what, somebody someday is going to help me.’
“Guys might squabble amongst themselves about fencelines. But if their neighbor has a heart attack or other emergency, the guy he’s squabbling with will still show up to help. I believe it really builds a bond.”
An American Tale
Ralph’s great grandfather, Harm Kruse, his fiancé, Antje Schmidt, her brother, Elias Schmidt, and several others from Ostfriesland, Germany, booked passage on a ship bound for the United States in the spring of 1866. It was an arduous three-month journey. After arriving in America, they found their way to Ackley, Iowa. Harm worked as a farm hand and Antje as a hired girl. Harm and Antje were married in October 1866. After they paid for their marriage license and bought some new work clothes, the young German couple had $6 to their name. They farmed rented ground and were in Hardin County for 19 years.
In the 1870s, Harm heard about good land in northwest Iowa. He found 160 acres of undeveloped prairie in section 19 of Grant Township, Plymouth County. After several years, the Kruse family saved enough money to build a home and move here in 1885. The same year, Harm and Antja bought the quarter of land where Ralph and his wife, Charlene, live today. Harm and Antja had nine children, seven of whom lived into adulthood. Over the coming decade, they continued to buy several more quarters of land, helping to ensure there was farm land and space for home sites for the next generation. The Chicago & Northwestern Railroad was selling area land at $2 to $4 an acre.
Everything in the settlers’ social life revolved around church.
Harm and Antja were first active in what today is known as Christ Lutheran Church at Mammen Town; and then were charter members of what became St. John’s Lutheran Church in Preston Township. While travel distances played a role in new churches popping up, Ralph said his dad used to joke that “one bunch of stubborn Germans couldn't get along with another bunch of stubborn Germans.”
His great grandmother served local families as a midwife. A family history says, “This work afforded her with much joy and satisfaction.”
The Harm and Antje Kruse family also welcomed newcomers to stay with them for months at a time, including the first pastor of St. John’s. In 1894, driving home from Le Mars with a load of lumber, Harm died, most likely from a heart attack. He was only 54. Antje lived to age 93.
Kruse family members kept farming, including Ralph’s grandfather (who was also named Harm). In 1935, he helped Ralph’s dad, Louie, build a house, barn, hog house and chicken house on the home site where Ralph lives today. Louie and and his wife, Maria, were married in 1936 and moved into the new house. In the early years, Louie was still farming with horses and mules.
Maria’s father, Theodore Meyer, was the pastor at St. John’s Lutheran Church in Preston Township for 40 years. He came from Germany and didn’t have any success finding a wife in Iowa. So he had his father track down a girl in Germany he remembered from catechism class and ask if she would marry Theodore. Amazingly, she said yes. Three of their sons became pastors.
Picking Corn
During World War II, much of America’s steel was diverted for military use, which made it difficult for farmers to purchase new machinery. In 1943, Louie obtained a permit to purchase a corn picker, provided he promised to help pick his neighbors’ corn. Ralph said, “At first, his neighbors would say, ‘Oh, just make a couple rounds to open the field up and we’ll harvest the rest by hand.’ Most of the time, though, once farmers saw how fast that picker worked, they told my dad to just keep going. I hate to think how many acres my dad and his brother picked those first couple of years.” His dad used that same picker until 1969.
Ralph went to country school (Grant #9) until he was in sixth grade. “When I was in in country school, they graded me on the curve. But I was the only kid in my class, so that meant I was always the best and the worst.”
Ralph was the youngest member of the family and, when he graduated from high school, his father was already 65 years old and had a bad hip. “So I started farming. Growing up, we milked Shorthorn cows for cream, we had hogs, and fed a few cattle and calves out. We had 300 laying hens in the chicken house.” He's been running a combine since he was 15 years old. “My dad had a pull type. I ran that until I burned it up around the time I graduated high school. Then Dad said, ‘If you want to combine, you go get your own.’ I bought a little 101 International combine without a cab. It had a 2-row corn head and just a 10-foot head for soybeans. In that first year, I finished combining corn on the 23rd of December, without a cab. I had two pairs of coveralls on. I froze my butt off out there.” However, with the help of two uncles and a cousin, he custom-combined so many acres at $5 an acre that he paid off the $1,850 loan the first year. “But that was the biggest mistake that ever happened to me, because I got this dream that I could make money doing custom work. But it never did really pan out,” he laughed.
Life's Too Short To Be Too Serious
“When I started farming, I still had stock cows, and I raised hogs. At one time, I was up to 120 sows.” He sold his hogs in the 1990s when the market went south. He fed hogs for someone else for a while, hauled feed and worked in construction. Finally, he got a job with Concrete Products of Sioux City, where he worked for 25 years while still growing corn and soybeans.
Ralph met Charlene (a/k/a Charley) when they were both with friends riding the loop in Sioux City. “We asked the girls if they wanted to ride around together, and they jumped in the car with us. We rode the loop and grabbed something to eat. And the rest is history,” said Ralph.
When they got married in 1973, Ralph and Charley moved into the farmhouse and his parents moved to town. Charley had her own ceramic shop for a while, then worked at Fareway in Le Mars for about 20 years. They have two daughters. Becky has a degree in computer graphics and works at the Wells Enterprises corporate office. She and her husband, Levi Kinney, live in Le Mars and have one adult daughter, Naomi. Levi formerly worked as a truck driver and dispatcher. Ralph and Charley's daughter, Danielle ('Dani') has a degree in computer engineering and electrical engineering and works at Daktronics. She and her husband, Mike Scheff, live in Brookings, South Dakota, where he works for Larsen Door. They have two sons, Jonathon, 14, and Zack, 12.
Charley absented herself from the interview process, but her fun outlook on life is reflected in her enjoyment of two Ford Mustangs convertibles, which serve as the couple’s equivalent of a lake home. They spend a lot of time with friends driving the Mustangs. Humorous signs hanging in her kitchen also demonstrate her upbeat view of life: “My husband needs new glasses. He still can’t see things my way;” “My house was clean yesterday. Sorry you missed it;” “There’s no place like home – except Grandma’s;” and “Worry is a waste of imagination.” Ralph’s philosophy on life synchronizes perfectly: “Life is way too short to be too serious.”
