"I have had the best life in the world" she always said in her last days, but in truth she gave the best life of all to her children and those she loved, which was everyone she knew.

She is remembered by those she taught as a "one room school" teacher after receiving her Normal Training teaching certificate from Osceola High School in 1934. She rode her horse, Beauty, to school and back until the temperature dropped to zero. She and Robert began their marriage in 1938, after waiting three years until she finished teaching. She taught her children Latin and made sure they all learned to play the piano.

Lois and Robert farmed for over 70 years. She loved to sew, garden, meet with her friends in the Circle Club at Nortonville, and most of all raise her children.

Her parents, brothers Herbert and Gene, and sister Doris have preceded her in passing.

She will always be cherished by her son, Lonnie Liggitt, of Claremore, Oklahoma; and her daughters: Ruth Julianne Burqus, of Mesa Arizona and Mary Lou Davenport of Indianola, Iowa. She is loved by all her grandchildren: Scott, Brent, Melissa, Angela, Jack, Eric, Todd, and Suzanne. Her great grandchildren will always remember her: Eva Marie, Peyton, Santi, Jessica, Montgomery, Merit, Morgan, Cameron, and Wyatt.

"Death leaves a heartache no one can heal, Love leaves a memory no one can steal."

*******

The three children and their families gathered one Christmas at the home of Robert and Lois Liggitt, and Lonnie, the oldest, who wrote the above obituary, intentionally interviewed and recorded the stories of their parents. The following is an attempt to recapture the conversation.

Ancestry

Lonnie: Continuing with Mom's story, on the maternal side, her mother's name was Perdue. They were originally from Schleswig-Holstein, the northern part of Germany, bordering on Denmark. They immigrated from Germany — four generations back. The family has pictures of some of them, taken in the 1800s.

Robert: My wife, Lois' whole family considered themselves German, and she was very proud of being a German. One day I thought I would play a joke on her — we did this with one another. I said, "I don't really think you are German. I think you are Danish." Schleswig was in the northern part of Germany, sharing the border with Denmark. I told her Denmark owned that part of Germany for a long time, until the Germans ran them out. She didn't like that too much, but she knew I was kidding. There was, however, a tradition in the 1800s, that the oldest son inherited everything. If a family member didn't like it, they either found some kind of work or immigrated to another country. That is the reason Lois ' family was here.

Lois: Hans came across the ocean on a ship with his wife, Anna and four little children. They landed at Ellis Island and took a railroad train to Woodburn, Iowa, because they knew people who had come from Germany previously. It may have been the Oehlert Family. I don't think they spoke English but it didn't take them long to learn. They farmed, tilled the soil," as the expression goes, which farmers always do. They rented or bought the land and farmed it.

My great grandpa, Hans, lived about three miles north of Woodburn for awhile and they had a baby girl who died in childbirth. They buried her in the garden and later his wife died. Hans raised the four children by himself. The children were Martin, Clause, and two girls.

When the grew older, son Clause married an O'Neall, who came from a good sized family in the Woodburn area, and they moved to Sheridan, Wyoming. They had four boys-- Tom, Marvin, Archie and Calvin. My parents took us on a vaction to visit them in 1938.

My grandpa Martin, married a girl down the road, Rosa Woods, and they had 12 children--six boys and six girls, and my dad, Andrew (Andy) was one of them. They all grew up to great chioldren. They all lived and died around here, and I can name all 12: Pearl, Gertie, Maude, Anna, Andrew, Lloyd, Wilbert, Herman, Edna, Flossie, Ross, Pauline, They were my uncles and aunts and we wre very close. They helped my mom and dad a lot with their four children.

Lonnie: Andrew (Andy) Ewoldson lived in the Woodburn area. Andrew was a short little German guy, "roly-poly," and he was very strong. He was a wrestler, and his son, Gene, who went to Iowa State, became a college wrestler. Grandpa told me he was the top wrestler in his weight in the country. Grandpa talked about those days when times were bad. They were so poor that Andrew and his friends would get around by jumping on the train that went by our farm. At one time he went down to northern Missouri and got in the carnivals to wrestle for money. They were so desperate, they would do anything to make money.

Lois: My dad, Andy, married a girl at Woodburn, Agnes Perdue, and they had four children, who all lived on a farm. All my relatives and I lived on farms and loved it. I still do. I was born in 1917, and my sisters and brothers were Herbert, Gene, and Doris. Growing up was quite different than now. We had to bring in the wood every night for the stove in the kitchen and the living room. We didn't have an upstairs so we didn't have to worry about heating the upstairs. We had double blankets on the bed, and Dad kept the fire going all night but not very hot. Then in the morning he had to get up and build fires in both stoves.

We didn't have indoor plumbing, so we had to carry water. For drinking, we had a dipper and everybody drank from the same dipper. Without indoor toilet facilities, if we had to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night, we used a pot with a lid on it under the bed. If we had to "go" in the daytime, we used the outhouse. We had an outhouse until you were in sixth grade, Lonnie. But it was OK. Everybody had one and was no big deal.

We were about a mile away from school and walked, of course. We had lots of fun in those days. We liked to go to school. I started at Victor, then we went to North Star. I think it was a god idea for all the children to be together. We had to be quiet in order to listen and learn. I am trying to remember what happened if any of the kids misbehaved and I think they had to stand in the corner. At recess we played Black Man, Around the Corner, and Ante-Over. We also play ball. I could run really fast so I did pretty well with all the games.

After the day was over, Dad and Mom read the paper. I had dolls to play with. I got a doll every christmas of my life. I loved dolls and I still like dolls.

My dad bought a car when they were first made. Our first car had side curtains instead of being closed in. Ther was no heat, so in the winter we had a big rug in the back, a lap-robe, and when we used the car, Dad would have to put water in the radiator because if he left it in the car it would freeze. When we got to town, we had to let the water out and then fill it again when we were ready to go home. But we just went to town on Saturday nights. That was a treat. We could buy an ice cream cone for a dime. My favorite was vanilla.

Lonnie: Both Dad's and Mom's parents went through rough times. In the 20s, the banks went broke. Andy Ewoldson lost his faith and with four kids, got back up and started over. He got another farm and lost that, too.

Robert: My father lost his farm, too, and part of it was given to him. Both Lois' and my families overcame a lot of adversity. We were married at the time of the Depression and were trying to raise our families at the time when the economy fell apart. In the 20s, when the banks went broke. I remember going to Simmons Bank (on the alley across from Robinsons) and therre was a sign on the door indicating they were going bankrupt. That was pretty sad. What we produced didn't bring in any money - corn, cattle, hogs - none brought in money.

But there has been lots of tragedy in my background. I am not sure where my family immigrated from but I know my grandfather was born in 1885. He life was very difficult because he lost his mother when he was six years old. He had a sister, Mabel, who was two. One of the things that happened was his dad married again and had children by the score with his second wife.

They didn't have room for him, so he stayed with his grandmother or any family who would taake him to work for his board. They had walking plows then and he was hardly old enough to reach the handles, but that was the job he was given. This was, of course, before there were any child protection laws. It was very sad, but when he grew up and married my grandmother, he was very appreciate of a good home.

Lonnie: I have the old bed they originally had. They homesteaded in South Dakota. They got on a flatbed railroad car with all their belongings and went out to find a new place to live. My grandmother was a homebody. Her family was all here and she didn't want to be there in a strange place with nobody she knew, so they came back.

ROBERT

My parents were Clarence and Estelle Liggitt. My dad was born in 1885. His mother was sick a lot with consumption and tuberculosis. He had a sister, Mabel three years younger than he. His mother passed away when he was six years old and Mabel was three. Not too long after that Grandfather, also Robert Liggitt, remarried and they had a family. Therefore, they didn't have a mother and father to raise them, so they were raised by their grandparents. That would be my great-grandfather. My dad had to work out when he was eight or ten years old. He worked for a fellow by the name of Fredricks, mainly for his board and room. But he had a good place to stay and they fed him pretty well. I think Mabel stayed mainly with her grandparents.

The children went to school in Fremont Township and I don't think my dad had too much education — I am not sure about that. Later on — I really don't know how they met, but he met my mother and they were married. They lived on a farm three miles south of Liberty, Iowa. The farm was 53 acres and it didn't have any buildings. They built the house, barn, corncrib and some other buildings. Later on they decided they didn't have enough land so they bought another 100 acres which made 153 acres all together. They were very happy.

I was born in 1916, and two years and two months later my brother Edwin was born. I lived the typical life of a young farm boy. I went to country school, Quiet Dell — they had some of the prettiest names for schools — for one of my eight years there because there was a boy I walked with, but it was his last year. We were just a mile each way from a school — Quiet Dell north, and St. George a mile south. The north side of our yard was the line. Mom always wanted us to go to St. George because she could see us walking all the way. I think we had an awfully good education in country school. There were eight grades and those in the lower grades learned by hearing the ones in the upper grades recite.

Lonnie: I am thinking, as you and your brother were growing up, did you have to help out a lot?

Robert: Oh yes, we had horses and cows. There were no girls in our family so we did chores like feeding the chickens, the hogs, and such things. We had a little diversion. We went out in the timber when we were ten or twelve years old and cut down the trees, sawed the logs, and made a log cabin. I don't remember whether we put mud in the cracks or just how we did it. We found a door and put it on. We had a neighbor who reshingled a house so we picked up the old shingles for the roof. Of course, it wasn't a very big building, probably about 12' x 15'. It was probably a mile from the house. It caused a little excitement among the neighborhood kids. We didn't ever stay there overnight.

We did quite a bit of hunting. I showed you how to skin a rabbit. I did kind of a stupid thing — I had climbed up a tree with my 22 rifle. I had my legs wrapped around a limb and held the gun aimed to shoot down at a squirrel. The bullet went down into my leg. It didn't hurt much but we went to the doctor. He just made a hole and took the bullet out. It is a good thing it was a rifle and not a shotgun. We didn't use shotguns.

There weren't any pheasants. They were entirely gone. Animals like racoons were hunted out. During the Depression, people may have eaten some but they also skinned them and sold the hides. Racoon coats were in vogue. I sold a racoon skin and got three or four dollars. In those days that was quite a bit. Then we would fish in the crick, or creek— however you want to say it — and we would get bullheads or sunfish. We took the bigger ones to the house. They were pretty good eating.

I went to Osceola to high school, and that was fun. That was in the mid-30s, so there were no school buses. The first year I stayed with my Aunt Amanda McQuern who lived two houses north of the greenhouse. I also stayed one year with the Brim family. The next year I rode a pony three miles north to Liberty, and then I rode with some kids who had a car, the 12 miles into town, and I got my education. My only activity in high school was track — I earned a letter in pole vaulting. In those days we had a heavy solid pole that didn't bend like they do now. I vaulted 10 feet high. And I ran a quarter of a mile in a mile relay. I could run the quarter mile in one minute. They also had manual training, which was shop. Lonnie, I still have the hog trough you made when you were in high school. A lot of kids didn't get to go on to high school, but I was glad I could go. After I graduated, I started farming and Lois did what she had always wanted to do - she taught school.

Lonnie: Mom and Dad both had Normal Training — (Robert: they trained us to be normal, but it didn't take with me.) Dad quit at the end of high school but Mom used her normal training and taught school. She and Dad couldn't get married until Mom had finished teaching because only one wage earner in the family was allowed. There weren't enough jobs to go around, and the money had to be scattered out so everybody had some. Two people in one household could not be hired. But Mom saved enough to buy their furniture when they were married.

Lois: I saved $400 in three years and bought all our furniture. Prices weren't what they are now. I had a beautiful table for $80 and I bought a white cookstove. I loved it.

Lonnie: People of that day had an endurance and a sense of humor that saw them through. Speaking of humor, Dad played "Moonlight on the Prairie" which goes back to 1924 or '25. He just sat down and played it from memory, and Mom loved it. But the humorous side was, then he played, "I took my girl to the dance one night, I thought I'd have some fun; She never said a single word but stood and chewed her gum." It was the kind of songs they sang. Mom's favorite was that old gospel song, "In the Garden."

Another thing that was so funny, I got here about two months ago and we played dominoes. I suggested she keep score, which she did, but instead of our names, she put the headings "Me" and "You." She asked, "Would that work?" and I said, "Oh, yes, that would be fine." But when one of us scored and she would say, "Was that you?" I would say. "Yes, that was me." It was very confusing — but that was her humor. She liked to have fun.

When Dad was in high school, he was able to memorize long poems and he still can recite some of them. He recited this for us:
So live that when thy summons comes
To join that innumerable caravan
Which moves to that mysterious realm
Where each shall take his chamber
In the silent halls of death,
Go not like the quarry slave
At night, scourged, to the dungeon
But sustained and soothed by an unfaltering truth.
Approach thy grave like one
Who wraps the draperies of his couch,
About him and lies down to pleasant dreams.

Robert: We worked very hard. I don't know how we got it done. We rented for the first five years of our marriage. Then I got a loan, which was unusual. They didn't have a lot of money for us to borrow back then.

Lonnie: I think Dad was one of only two people in the county who got a loan. But he was really happy to get that help.

Robert: We had a good life. I don't hate anybody for the kind of life I had. We started having children after three years and they were three years apart.

Lonnie: Dad, I can remember some of the early years. I can remember the horses. We didn't have electricity until I was seven. There have been tremendous changes during your lifetime. People had small farms in the days I remember.

Robert: We were married almost 72 years. That's a long time but they went by so fast. We didn't think a lot about it. We just lived every day. Lois raised a family and cooked, had a garden, and raised chickens. And I did the other things like raising the live stock crops. I think that may be one reason we got along as well as we did. She did her thing and I did mine and didn't interfere too much with what the other one did.

Our wedding was very small. Lois had a sister and two brothers. I had one brother, Edwin, and that was about all we invited to the wedding. We were married in the Christian Church when it was new. When Lonnie was married, he had a rather big wedding in the University Christian Church in Des Moines. Julianne had a large wedding. They all had pretty big weddings, and I thought they were nice. We didn't even invite our parents. Isn't that sad? Mother and Dad would have loved that wedding and her mother and dad would probably have liked it, too. Maybe it was customary then. Dwight and Doris Brim didn't have anyone — even Lois and me, at their wedding.

Lonnie, Julie, and Mary Lou were three years apart. All went to country school and graduated from Osceola. They all continued to get their degrees. Lonnie graduated from Drake University and got his Masters degree from Syracuse University. Julianne went on to Methodist Hospital and got a nurses' degree. She was one of the last ones to graduate from Nursing School at Methodist Hospital. Mary Lou went to Drake first, then on to the University in Detroit. She became a micro-biologist and she is still working at Mercy Hospital in Des Moines.

LONNIE

I was born on the farm outside of Nortonville. Dad owned the 200-acre farm, which was one of the general orintermingling farms, where we had livestock and crops. It was a very good, rich childhood in teams of seeing hard work, industrious planning, and innovations such as: He started using commercial fertilizer, anhydrous ammonia, when nobody knew what it was. It was kind of an "edgy" farm, on the edge, with crop rotation, terraces — all these things to make the farm better. In those days the idea of a lot of farmers was just to get by. Dad wasn't like that.

Drake had a wonderful organ department. When I had graduated, I was given a scholarship to Syracuse University and started teaching out there in the Masters Program and worked with fantastic organists, one of the best in the world. I ended up getting my degree there in the theory of music and also in organ playing. I was on their faculty and taught for three years.

I got into conducting while I was in New York at Syracuse University and I enjoyed that more than the organ. I went down to Pittsburgh — their Symphony is one of the best in the world. I got a job as the conductor, and I conducted for the Civic Light Opera for two seasons. One of the highlights of my career as a musician was getting to conduct with an associate from the Metropolitan Opera.

My family moved with me to Syracuse. In fact, a funny story is that Mom and Dad both came to visit us. Being farmers, they hadn't been too many places but Mom got on the train here and went to Chicago, changed trains and went to New York, to help with the birth of our son. Then Dad came out on the train also. It is hard to imagine, they left the farm, got on the train and came to Syracuse. But there was a lot of family loyalty which overcame timidity at that point.

I went to London and stayed there for two years working as a musician conducting and writing. At that time my kids were old enough they were getting jobs, being married and I needed to have some real money coming in steadily and dependably. I met a man from Italy, a self-made, very wealthy man. I worked in his company for a bit and he showed me about stocks and bonds and real estate, so I became a stock broker. For 10 years I worked with Dean Witter Reynolds in the southwest part of the country in finance. It paid better than the universities.

Teaching in a university doesn't pay very well. Even if you are a composer, you don't know how many commissions you are going to get, or if you are a conductor, you don't know who is going to call you. I could use music as a hobby, but it is really a very difficult career especially if you have kids. This interim got my kids through college.

By then I was 50, and I decided to build my own recording studio in Tulsa where my children were living. For 12 years I taught at the Tulsa Community College and then I retired. And that is what I do today. I am retired, I teach at the Rogers Street University, I have a church where I can play Bach and Midor. I have a really nice life.

I married Rhonda Thompson from Osceola. Her father, Wayne, was a barber with John DeVore in the hotel barber shop and her mother, Selma, taught school. Rhonda and I were in high school together. She was a cheerleader. I was in track — a pole vaulter like my dad, and maybe that had something to do with her cheerleading. We had three children, one is in Tulsa, one in Oklahoma City, and one is in Phoenix. They are great kids and they are doing well. One works in banking, one is an anesthetist, and one is a counselor who works with children.

In the last part of my work, I developed a real passion. Both my wife and daughter worked with developmentally disabled children. Using music, I formed a company designed to travel inside the autistic mind. I named the program, "Horace Hopper's Musical Adventures." It will never make me rich — I put way more money into it than I will ever take out, but it has been very rewarding. I developed two programs. One is a computer program where they can use colors, paint, use words, sing words, interact by seeing the picture and saying the word. They love painting — in fact, they love the arts. I am not a genius in this but being observant and working in music gives me an advantage. The program can also be used with a keyboard instrument. There are a lot of beautiful paintings and teachers can relate musical notes to those pictures.

It is a little unusual, if you are writing something pertaining to autism, the music connection is strong. One out of every 20 children with autism has perfect pitch. They can tell you what note it is just out of the air. One out of 10,000 normal people have that ability. Music is a very strong stimulus for them. With autism you can't keep their attention for a half-second when solving a problem, but with music you can capture their attention in half a second and hold it long enough to have a chance to work with them. Music is somewhat mathematical and it helps with the development of their math, and language also. It is a great language builder and stimulater. Almost every school now, by law, has to have an area for working with these children so attention to their needs is going forward. There are some stumbling blocks to be overcome if this program is ever to be a huge success. There isn't presently a computer company that is technical enough in this field to really be interested in it or enough children to whom it applies. It is, however, probably the best thing I have ever done.

LOIS RESUMES HER STORY

I did pretty well in high school. I was the fourh down from the top in my class and I was a class officer--secretary/treasureer of the senior class. Anoher thing, liked to draw and when I was a sophomore, they had a big class play by the name of "The Birdhouse", so I got a big sheet of cardboard and drew a great big picture of a birdhouse on it. I got first prize! They put it uptown as a poster to advertise the play. M prize was one ticket to the class play.

In those days, we had to take an exam to go on to the high school. I passed, and rode with my older brother, Herbert. We only had one car so if the family needed to leave the farm to go somewhere, they were sunk, but we got along very well.

One year four of my friends and I all stayed in a place together, in Mrs. Lambertsons's home, not too far from school. The house had four upstairs bedrooms, so we each had our own room. When we came home we studied. We studied hard because if was very important to stay in school. The last two years of high school were devoted to teaching us how to teach reading, spelling, history and arithmetic. We had one semester of physcology. I got my degree in Normal Education which qualified me to teach--however, when I got out of school, I was too young to teach.

I went to Cedar Rapids with my grandma and spent a year as a maid at $2 a week. I lived with the people, who were both crippled. He worked at Bishop's cafeteria, she was a singer. We would go to to Bishops to eat sometimes. I had room and board, and I did the work. She cooked, so I didn't have to cook, but I washed dishes, scrubbed floors and did the washing. I had to wear a uniform, which they furnished. I was a servant, a maid, but I didn't feel like it was demeaning. I enjoyed it. They had two little children and I took care of them. When the year was up, I went back home to begin teaching school.

I had always wanted to teach school. Robert didn't want to teach. He had gone back to farming with his dad. Those of us who had chosen teaching for our career had to go before the board of a country school to be inteviewed. One stipulation was we couldn't be marrid. There were men teachers also. The guys needed jobs, too.

I rode a horse to school. I like to ride a horse. I quit when it got cold, and I stayed with people, who were awfully nice. The last time I rode it was 0 degrees and I could hardly get off the horse. It was too cold.

It paid $50 a month for eight months.I had all eight grades together. There were about 15 children in each school. I had room and board for $12 a month, which left me $38. I spent some on clothes but I saved a lot in Postal Savings, which was a place to invest our money They paid interest--I don't remember how much. Robert and I were planning to be married so I savd a lot of my money to buy furniture. And I did.

Lonnie: Dad, you and mom had hard times because you were married during the Depression, but you did what you had to do and came through it all right.

Robert: Yes, but another thing that entered into it were the dry years. In 1934, nobody raised anything, '35 was real wet and nobody raised anything; '36 was dry and we had grasshoppers that ate up what there was. That was the way it was and we kept hoping next year would be better. But it was a good life. It was an independent life. We weren't like the laboring man who had a boss over him.

Lonnie: I have wondered, when people got old in those days and couldn't work any longer, how did they live? I know they worked as long as they could but when they couldn't do anything, what did they do to survive?

Robert: When there was nothing else, or one in a couple would die. they went to what was called the Poor Farm and were taken care of by the County. It wasn't too bad but when the President's program of Social Security came along, Poor Farms were done away with.

Lonnie: Do you remember the work programs they had?

Robert: Yes! There were work projects, the Civil Conservation Corps that worked on building parks like Stephens Forest by Lucas. The government paid for it out of taxes. In 1937, Lois had her money from teaching school and I didn't have any. They had what they called FSA, Farm Security Administration. That was a national program established by Roosevelt, also. We could get what we called a Government Loan to buy horses to farm with and livestock and machinery. I went in and they told me I couldn't get a loan because I wasn't married.

Lonnie: So if you weren't married, you couldn't get a loan but if you were married you couldn't teach.

Robert: That's right. The fellow who administered the program was a good guy but still he had to follow rules. He said, "I'm sorry, but we can't do anything for you." So I left but I went back. I told him we were going to be married but we needed the money she made teaching school so if she couldn't continue to teach, we would lose that and couldn't pay off the loan. They finally went ahead and let me have the 800-and some dollars to buy all the machinery and livestock and feed. I was to pay 5% interest. That was really a good deal and we did it for two years.

One day I went in and said, "I need more money for a machinery loan." He said they would consider it so in a few days I got a letter saying they had approved it. I went in and they said I had to have part of the loan paid down up front. They loaned me the money to buy a tractor, plow, cultivator and disk. It was just a little over $1, 000 for the whole thing. By getting that loan, I could expand the farming operation. We had that for several years when they came out with a program to buy farms for people. They called it the Tenant Purchase Program. They would only make three or four loans for the whole county, so a farmer would have to be pretty much on the ball to get it. We put in for that and we got it. We were one of three or four in the whole county!

We got the loan to buy the farm. That was after Julie was born. Lonnie, you were born while we were still renting. We bought you a farm in 1943. In 12 years, we had the chance to buy a better farm, so I bought it and like to never got this one sold. We finally got the whole thing done and got the farm where we live now, improved it some and have it paid for. We will have been on this farm for 50 years this year.

Lonnie: When you started farming, how much did you pay for your first farm?

Robert: We paid $22.50 per acre, 200 acres — $4500.

Lonnie: I think when I was in school, the assumption was we would all become farmers. At least I can remember being taught how to improve a farm. How did you improve your farm?

Robert: I had a pretty good crop rotation. The land was covered with cockle burrs when we moved there. We creosoted poles. We reshaped the fields. We created a pond. They were some of the better times in our lives. The family was young and my wife's favorite thing to do was to raise a family.

Lonnie: We always fertilized with natural fertilizer from the animals we were raising. I can remember Mom's brother, Gene, coming out and talking about commercial fertilizer. You started using commercial fertilizer in the mid-forties. Then you started planting trefoil.

Mom, you stopped teaching in 1938, and you were married right away. And you started having children. Could you cook?

Lois: We were married the day after school was out, and no, I couldn't cook at all but nobody seemed to be bothered about it. Robert's dad was such a great guy. He would come over and even if something didn't taste good, he'd eat it and never say a word. I made him a raison pie one day. I didn't know to cook the raisons first, so I put them in raw. He just ate it right down and never said a word. He was awfully good. I have come to the conclusion that it is better to be a good example than to preach. That is what he did.

Lonnie: I remember when he came over, he would always say a prayer. He wasn't what I would think of as a religious man. He didn't say, "Let's fall on our knees," but he would always say a blessing. He was the only guy in the memory of my childhood who ever did that. And nobody knew he did.

Lois: Do you remember where you went to Sunday School? I loved that church. I'd like to go back. A fellow came down to preach--LeRoy Moore.

Lonnie: You started out not knowing how to cook and things like that. What was the hardest thing that you did? You had to keep track of the kids. . .

Lois: Oh, yes, and I raised chickens and sold the eggs, and I gardened, which I loved. During he summer, I canned beans, peas, corn, applesauce and peaches. I made pickles and I canned quite a little meat. We butchered our beef--imagine butchering a cow? We kept all this in the cave. In the summer I cooked a lot of chickens.We had chicken every day because I could go out and pull their heads off.

Lonnie: I will never forget you going out and grabbing a chicken and taking a broomstick putting it on one side and then the other and jerking the head off. The chicken would jump around for two or three minutes.. .

Lois: Then I had a bucket of scaldinghot water and put the chicken in and pulled the feathers off. I would take it in the house and take all the insides our and let them cool for about an hour, then cook them. We had chicken and noddles a lot? It all sounds kind of cruel but Robert's mother told me, "don't wory about it. That is what these chickens are for".

Lonnie: Besides taking care of the kids, cooking, taking care of the clothes — we all wore clothes but we didn't change them every day like we do now.

Lois: You changed your clothes when you got home from school. You had school clothes and other clothes. I washed them in the washing machine. There was an agitator but I had to work it by hand. I did that about 10 minutes then rinsed them, and run them through the wringer that was also operated by hand. I rinsed them and wrung them out again, then hung them up on the clothesline until they were dry. When it was cold, I had some lines upstairs where I could hang them.

Lonnie: But I can remember coming home and finding those things frozen — like I can remember you bringing in overalls and they would stand up stiff.

Lois: I washed on Monday and ironed on Tuesday. In these days clothes come out not needing to be ironed, but in those days we had to iron everything.

Lonnie: Why couldn't we just wear them wrinkled?

Lois: OH, my godness, I wouldn't think of it! But you know, one morning when I was ironing, Walter Cronkite came on TV and said the president had been shot! John Kennedy. But, of course, that was in later yars after we had electicity. In the earlier days, I heated the iron on the stove. I had a fire in the stove all the time.

Lonnie: That took a lot of fuel. Where did you get it?

Lois: We had timber. The men would go to the timber and cut a big load of wood. Then you would bring it in the house for me. On Tuesdays I put the irons on the stove, and there as a little handle to put on top of them. It took a half a day on Tuesdays to do the ironing for five people. Then on Wednesday, I guess I cleaned the house. On Saturday I cleaned the whole house, and on Sunday we went to church. Those other days I sewed. I made all the girl's clothes, and I made shirts but we bought the jeans. I made the girl's clothes out of feed sacks. They were very pretty--all kinds of designs. So when we bought feed, we chose what we wanted for dresses. Everybody did this.

Lonnie: What about food? I remember we had lockers in town that would freeze the meat. They butchered the animal, cut it up and packaged it, then kept it in the locker. But that was later on. Before that you did it for yourself. I remember another thing we had, called ice boxes. They had big compartments that would keep the food cold, but the lockers should be emphasized a little bit, because they were a big improvement. You could go in once or twice a week, and get several packages that would last through the week. But before you had electricity — you didn't have any refrigerator or freezer, no lights in the house, no TV or radio. Well, I guess we had battery radios. I know I was seven years old before we had electricity. I can remember how excited I was so see the corners of the room! We had a table with a lamp on it but that was all the light we had. I keep trying to imagine what it was like before that.

Lois: Yes, we did have light. We had lamps. I had to fill them with kerosene, wash the flue, and trim the wick. And then there were outside things. I had to feed the chickens and gather the eggs. I never had to help milk the cows.

Lonnie: I keep thinking about how farming changed over the years. It was very difficult in early years. You had horses and they had to be harnessed. Tell me about your day.

Robert: Well, we'd get up and first we did the chores. Feed the hogs and chickens, milk five cows. It wouldn't take more than five or ten minutes to milk - -

Lonnie: That wasn't a very pleasant job. I didn't enjoy it! First of all the cows were huge, and what I remember particularly, they always went to the bathroom while we were trying to milk them. We were at the same end of the cow to get the milk, as where they went to the bathroom. And there wasn't a nice clean place to do that — it was kind of a quagmire of mud. And there was a big pile of manure just outside where we worked. We won't dwell on that, but then we had flies, even in the house.

However, going back to your day: You fed the pigs. You fed and milked the cows, but you had a herd of cows you had to take care of.

Robert: We figured out how many cows to have by how much pastureland we needed to feed them. We had to build up the grass to accommodate them. Then, when they had calves, we went out to get them. It was really quite a job. We chased them into the barnyard. We did that to vaccinate them every year. The baby calves had to be vaccinated. Black Leg was fatal! We also had to doctor them when it was needed. Sometimes there were problems with deliveries and we had to help them if the calf wasn't coming forward like it should. Sometimes we had to help them get milk from their mothers. But the main problem was the calves were so big, particularly Holstein offspring were big! We had to use a lot of force to get them born. Male calves had to be castrated. Sometimes we had to put them in a chute to cut off the horns. Then once in awhile people would call me to help them. I had a reputation as being kind of a cow doctor.

The farming aspect was, we got behind a pair of horses and plowed. We had one team of horses — Lonnie and Babe. I'd go to the field with those and a two-row planter. There was a wire to guide us as we planted the corn to get the rows straight. But all this was a really good time in our lives. It was normal. Everybody did these things. The land we were on part of those years wasn't worth much by comparison. We bought our farm for $22.50 and sold it for $82.50. It increased in value four times! We could sell it now for $1,500. Land might go even higher.

Lois: I want to mention before we finish that we had wonderful neighbors through the years and we had wonderful children. We were always so proud of all of you. We think we had a wonderful family. There was not one that was a disappointment. I hope you will always remember, "It is better to set a good example than to preach."

Lonnie: And I hope you will     great examples.

remember that the two of you have been

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Last Revised December 14, 2014