Folks, I would like to preface this article with a quick request. I can be contacted at the e-mail address listed below, or by phone - my number is in the book. Specifically, I am looking for additional perspectives from World War II, wherever they may have occurred. As this series has unfolded, I have been introduced to many new friends - it is a privilege to hear their stories and then write them up. Even something as simple as my grandmother making a weekly trip to Monroe is a chapter in American history that does not deserve to be forgotten.
The invention and utilization of the railroad brought immediate and profound changes to America. With the regular and reliable movement of goods across the country came certain pleasantries - like peaches, a perishable and otherwise inaccessible produce. As a young child, my grandmother remembers when her mother would can peaches right here in Wisconsin. Even Alma Grawehr, who grew up in remote Meade, Kan., remembers having canned peaches.
Surprisingly, Americans have always maintained a sense of organized and precise mobility. Long before white settlement, Native Americans running back and forth between the Great Lakes and the Mississippi River located and established the Half-Way Tree. This remarkable burr oak, which can be found just south of Brodhead, marks the halfway point between Lake Michigan and the Mississippi River. In 1932, a U.S. survey team verified its accuracy - if only the tree could talk!
Even as late as the 1930s, the presence of indigenous Americans could be felt. Daryl remembers, "I never saw it, but down about a mile south of [our farm] there was a steep bluff along the river. I remember hearing about how every summer the Indians would come and camp - there weren't many of them, but they were part of the old Winnebago tribe. It wasn't in my time but happened only a couple years before we moved in."
Living next to a railroad line exposed Daryl's family to folks who, during the Depression, sought refuge by drifting. "[The drifters] must have had our house marked, because Mom would never turn anyone away." Only when the railroad finally closed did the flow of drifters subside.
The Great Depression forced the relocation of millions of Americans, from the railroad drifters to whom Daryl was exposed, to entire camps of gypsies. My friend Ken, who grew up near Green Bay, remembers how "every summer" a group of gypsies would camp out about a mile from his farm: "They would stay there about a week until apparently there were enough people complaining because the sheriff would come by and make them move on." These groups of gypsies were not necessarily the innocent downtrodden, as remembered by Daryl: "They would steal anything that was loose! The gypsies were thieves, and sneaky, too! There'd be a camp of them, not every year, but often enough. Our parents were awfully protective of us kids when a carload of gypsies would pass through. Originally they were horse traders, and you'd get a couple of them come up and start talking to you, to distract you. Well, as you're there paying attention to them, their women and children would be running around behind your back stealing chickens! They'd come in the broad daylight and steal chickens, right out from under your nose! There was nothing a guy could do to stop it, short of getting the shotgun. But if you did that they would probably come back at night and burn you out. ...
Ken remembers a similar experience, but shrugs it off, "Ma had a big chicken coop and we knew they were stealing chickens because there was a lot of [commotion out there] but I guess she figured that they had to eat, too." I asked Ken if he remembers other drifters coming through his area: "[The gypsies] would come by once a year and there were other people, too. It was a nice park area and the travelers would tell other people who were coming through about it. We would never associate with them or get to know them, but there was always someone there - they lived [in the park] just like [a tribe]. You would wonder how they survived, but we knew they were stealing at night time."
Rather than drift along railroad tracks or camp out in public parks, some folks were able to obtain government work. As Daryl remembers, some jobs were more interesting than others. When he was in grade school, a "Horrible skinny music teacher would come through once in awhile - about once a month she'd come through. We were supposed to sing for her. Well, I couldn't sing in the first place, and with all the other kids listening I was just helpless. She'd listen to you to hear what kind of voice you had - how the hell she could tell I don't know. She came out of the county office."
During these years jobs were scarce, and it was quite common for folks to be mobile. Millions of Americans fled the country where Alma grew up, and others found themselves drifting through Ken and Daryl's neighborhoods in search of food and solace. This was a time when Americans felt safely removed from tensions that were erupting elsewhere in the world. As we will see shortly, it would not be much longer for European and Pacific conflict to reach the family farms of Wisconsin.
- Dan Wegmueller of Monroe writes a weekly column for Friday editions of the Times. He can be reached at dwegs@tds.net.
The invention and utilization of the railroad brought immediate and profound changes to America. With the regular and reliable movement of goods across the country came certain pleasantries - like peaches, a perishable and otherwise inaccessible produce. As a young child, my grandmother remembers when her mother would can peaches right here in Wisconsin. Even Alma Grawehr, who grew up in remote Meade, Kan., remembers having canned peaches.
Surprisingly, Americans have always maintained a sense of organized and precise mobility. Long before white settlement, Native Americans running back and forth between the Great Lakes and the Mississippi River located and established the Half-Way Tree. This remarkable burr oak, which can be found just south of Brodhead, marks the halfway point between Lake Michigan and the Mississippi River. In 1932, a U.S. survey team verified its accuracy - if only the tree could talk!
Even as late as the 1930s, the presence of indigenous Americans could be felt. Daryl remembers, "I never saw it, but down about a mile south of [our farm] there was a steep bluff along the river. I remember hearing about how every summer the Indians would come and camp - there weren't many of them, but they were part of the old Winnebago tribe. It wasn't in my time but happened only a couple years before we moved in."
Living next to a railroad line exposed Daryl's family to folks who, during the Depression, sought refuge by drifting. "[The drifters] must have had our house marked, because Mom would never turn anyone away." Only when the railroad finally closed did the flow of drifters subside.
The Great Depression forced the relocation of millions of Americans, from the railroad drifters to whom Daryl was exposed, to entire camps of gypsies. My friend Ken, who grew up near Green Bay, remembers how "every summer" a group of gypsies would camp out about a mile from his farm: "They would stay there about a week until apparently there were enough people complaining because the sheriff would come by and make them move on." These groups of gypsies were not necessarily the innocent downtrodden, as remembered by Daryl: "They would steal anything that was loose! The gypsies were thieves, and sneaky, too! There'd be a camp of them, not every year, but often enough. Our parents were awfully protective of us kids when a carload of gypsies would pass through. Originally they were horse traders, and you'd get a couple of them come up and start talking to you, to distract you. Well, as you're there paying attention to them, their women and children would be running around behind your back stealing chickens! They'd come in the broad daylight and steal chickens, right out from under your nose! There was nothing a guy could do to stop it, short of getting the shotgun. But if you did that they would probably come back at night and burn you out. ...
Ken remembers a similar experience, but shrugs it off, "Ma had a big chicken coop and we knew they were stealing chickens because there was a lot of [commotion out there] but I guess she figured that they had to eat, too." I asked Ken if he remembers other drifters coming through his area: "[The gypsies] would come by once a year and there were other people, too. It was a nice park area and the travelers would tell other people who were coming through about it. We would never associate with them or get to know them, but there was always someone there - they lived [in the park] just like [a tribe]. You would wonder how they survived, but we knew they were stealing at night time."
Rather than drift along railroad tracks or camp out in public parks, some folks were able to obtain government work. As Daryl remembers, some jobs were more interesting than others. When he was in grade school, a "Horrible skinny music teacher would come through once in awhile - about once a month she'd come through. We were supposed to sing for her. Well, I couldn't sing in the first place, and with all the other kids listening I was just helpless. She'd listen to you to hear what kind of voice you had - how the hell she could tell I don't know. She came out of the county office."
During these years jobs were scarce, and it was quite common for folks to be mobile. Millions of Americans fled the country where Alma grew up, and others found themselves drifting through Ken and Daryl's neighborhoods in search of food and solace. This was a time when Americans felt safely removed from tensions that were erupting elsewhere in the world. As we will see shortly, it would not be much longer for European and Pacific conflict to reach the family farms of Wisconsin.
- Dan Wegmueller of Monroe writes a weekly column for Friday editions of the Times. He can be reached at dwegs@tds.net.
