Annie’S Legacy

By Elizabeth Ratcliff

Annie Redding a successful bridal designer is married to a former pilot, who owns a car dealership in Chicago, when catastrophe strikes. What happens next? Bad news hunts her down and Annie must decide how to fight
chaos to save the well being of her family. Stressed and perplexed the intense appealing, black-haired Annie finds an essential guide to understanding who she is and what she can become through help from memories of her
ancestorsshe reflects on her heritage and like her invincible immigrant grandparents, Annie is strong.

The characters in this story bring drama and history to lifefrom
1872, through the turbulent war years, the great depression, prohibition,
stunt-flying, horse racing, social change, to an eye-opening revelation.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Nov 16, 2012
• ISBN: 9781468595604

Elizabeth Ratcliff

Elizabeth Ratcliff writes fictional tales in this sequential historical romance. She composed children’s stories, wrote candid free-lance news articles, and interviewed individuals for a feature article in a monthly publication. She is a mother and a grandmother. She has a B.A. from Western Washington University and is a member of Skagit Valley Writers League in Burlington, Washington and lives in the Pacific Northwest in Seattle area.

Book preview

ANNIE’S LEGACY

ELIZABETH RATCLIFF

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2012 by Elizabeth Ratcliff. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse 10/30/2012

ISBN: 978-1-4685-9560-4 (e)

ISBN: 978-1-4685-9559-8 (sc)

Library Congress Control Number: 2012907455

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

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Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

CONTENTS

Acknowledgement

Prologue

CHAPTER 1   ANNIE

CHAPTER 2   HISTORY

CHAPTER 3   THE SCHOOLHOUSE

CHAPTER 4   MICHAEL

CHAPTER 5   UNCLE DAVID

CHAPTER 6   THE POWER OF MUSIC

CHAPTER 7   EDWARD’S GELDING

CHAPTER 8   HIGHSCHOOL

CHAPTER 9   THE SULKY RACE

CHAPTER 10   MARGARET

CHAPTER 11   BARNSTORMING

CHAPTER 12   THE MONEY RUN

CHAPTER 13   JAKE and ALICE

CHAPTER 14   BELIEVE

Chapter 15   The Heart Attack1931

CHAPTER 16   COMMERICAL ROUTE 1932

CHAPTER 17   ANNIE MEETS MICHAEL

CHAPTER 18   DAVID and ANNABELLE

CHAPTER 19   THE CENTURY OF PROGRESS EXPOSITION 1933

CHAPTER 20   DAVID’S ENGAGEMENT

CHAPTER 21   THE REUNION

CHAPTER 22   SARAH

CHAPTER 23   AWARENESS

CHAPTER 24   OUR WEDDING

CHAPTER 25   THE PLANE CRASH

CHAPTER 26   THE WAR 1941

CHAPTER 27   TRANSFORMATION

CHAPTER 28   NEW ERA

CHAPTER 29   THE ACCIDENT

DEDICATION

To my children,

To my children’s children, and Amanda; you are my inspiration.

May life always bless you and smile on you. You are loved always.

ACKNOWLEDGEMENT

Heidi Thomas many thanks for your editing and helpful suggestions and to Doris Sassman for her valuable support.

PROLOGUE

From the beginning to the end Annie takes the struggles of life with confidence. Often she doesn’t know what to do and now she doesn’t know happened to her husband. During a long miserable night panic attacks her. Bothered she walks the floor striving for direction which seems so out-of-reach, when finally worn-out she sits down on the sofa exhausted and sleep overtakes her. Transformed by a sixth sense, she manifests purpose through knowledge of the past. She reflects on her background of factual history: Her mind fills with a wellspring of vivid life experiences, a new sense of individualism and a burst of purpose, recalling her invincible immigrant grandmother’s advice. Revitalized with insight she is steered to get-up and use today’s difficulties to strengthen her mind, determined and confident to face the future. The journey develops into drama of history.

CHAPTER 1

ANNIE

Life is no brief candle to me. It is a sort of splendid torch which I have got hold of for the moment, and I want to make it burn as brightly as possible before handing it over to future generations. George Bernard Shaw

Chicago 1954. Mother, Mother look out of your window! My two daughters ages eleven and thirteen rushed into my bedroom jostling each other in excitement. It was the first snow of the season, the day after Thanksgiving. After seeing the snow, my girls become enthused, hurried into my bedroom making a commotion to wake me.

Arlene, whom we called Leney, pulled back the curtain so I could watch the huge snowflakes descend like a gushing featherbed that transformed everything outside to look like a Christmas card.

My oldest daughter Arlene was becoming a bit bossy, nagged at me to get-up and get out of bed. Mother, will you please get up and make us pancakes? We want to go outside and play in the snow and you promised pancakes.

I sighed and rubbed my tired eyes. Hold your horses, Leney. I dragged myself out of bed and looked out at the snow. I know I promised pancakes and you can’t wait to make a snowman. You girls get ready and I’ll be along shortly. I yawned as they scrambled from the room. I looked out the window at the snow and dragged myself out of bed. I seldom go back to bed, but today was an exception. The work of cleaning house and preparing Thanksgiving Dinner the day before had exhausted me. As I sat on the bed sleep overtook me and I crawled back under the covers.

I awoke with a guilty start. Oh dear, I stood up stretching and putting on my warm bathrobe, I went down stairs to the kitchen to make pancakes and squeeze oranges. After they ate, they put on their coats and boots and ran out the door with the dogs, Peaches and Rover. I made myself a pot of coffee, trying to wake up and I sat looking out the window at the snow. The girls had already started a snowball fight and later Arlene started building a snowman, while her sister Candy got out the sled to slide down the slope in the backyard. The winter sun made it a perfectly ideal day to play outside as it warmed the temperature.

I shook my head and blinked my eyes at the bright snow as I admired the scenic beauty. The earth was transformed into luminous feathery white blanket of snow, the trees on the street: oaks, maples, elms, and the fruit trees in the back yard, all sparkled like diamonds in the morning sunlight. I was amazed as I looked at the accumulated snow drifts and the frozen icicles that were hanging from the tree branches… remembering when I was a kid. Jake, my brother and I used break off the icicles from the trees, pretending the icicles were fencing swords and battled until one of us broke the other’s sword of ice.

Rarely is a November snow so captivating and my imagination was moved as I stood at the window taking in the beauty, as the coffee awaken my senses. I considered it an awesome gift, and I decided to go outside myself later and play in the snow too. Still tired and contented I watched my girls who were fascinated by the snow.

Somewhere in the house the radio played You Are My Sunshine and suddenly I felt energized with the thought of playing with the girls in the snow, and I got busy setting about the morning chores. Our son Chip, age four was sleeping overnight with his best friend and cousin Peter at their home. I occupied myself preparing a turkey stew, peeling carrots and potatoes to put in the oven for dinner. My thoughts were that of gratitude as I took pleasure in the clean house, the waxed floors that gave me a feeling of accomplishment.

The girls were enjoying the winter wonderland shouting and singing loudly. Candy was busy throwing snowballs at Leney and I was glad to see them having so much fun as they rolled in the snow making snow angels and chased each other and the dogs. It was a day to celebrate and the snow called me.

I put on my hat, coat, gloves and boots and went outside to play with the girls. They were building another snowman and I felt impressed to make a snowman of my own. Soon I was putting my hat on the snowman and went inside to get a carrot for a nose and a scarf to finish off my work of art. Enjoying the experience of the snow I started to make snowballs and threw a few at my girls who soon challenged me two against one. I hadn’t played in snow for ages and I had so much fun.

I was rolling out snowballs as fast as I could and laughing with the girl’s, who soon tired of the snowball fight and were now making snow angels, again. Our pup Rover rolled in the snow with Candy as Peaches the mother dog chased Leney in good fun.

Peaches, the mother dog was a German shepherd who had a litter of pups and Rover was the only pup we kept. The girl’s chased the dogs around the yard, laughing and shouting at them and enjoying the festivity of the snow. The time passed rapidly and soon the subdued sun lost its heat and it was quickly getting cold. But the girls didn’t want to come in even though the dusk had made the frosty air now damp and chilly.

The dinner was ready and the house smelled of savory turkey stew and herbs, which made me hungry. I told the girls to come in the house to warm up. Rover and Peaches the dogs tagged along into the kitchen behind the girls, who were now shaking with cold shivers. They took off their wet clothes and I wrapped them both in warm blankets and gave them warm socks to put on. Girls, you stayed outside too long and got overly cold. Drink this hot tea now, it will warm you up. I said as I felt their heads.

My sister-in-law Tabitha phoned just then and asked, How do you like the snow Annie? Chip and Peter played outside all day in the snow. The boys had so much fun as you can imagine, but now they are tired and sleepy. I called to ask you if Chip could stay over here another night?

Sure, Tabitha, It’s okay with me if Peter stays another night, thanks for calling. ‘‘I love the snow it is fabulous, I went outside with the girls and we made snowmen. Now we are all worn-out and starved, actually we were just ready to eat, call me tomorrow."

The girls and I didn’t wait dinner for my husband Michael that night as we usually do to eat together, but tonight we were all so hungry we ate without him. That morning I asked Michael to take the day off from his car dealership, but he and Andrew his brother had made plans to look at real estate property before work. Andrew wanted Michael’s advice and he wanted to take care of inventory, so he told me he probably would be late. After eating dinner the girls were so very tired that they actually went to bed without being told.

Waiting up for my husband Michael, I noticed that I must have missed some spots on the floor when I cleaned up earlier. Now I was restless and on edge and I began to wipe up these tracks on the floor. Tired as I was I questioned myself, what kind of tracks and philosophy do I leave on my children’s lives? I remembered someone saying, a man is not measured by his height, but by the deed he achieves in his life.

Finally, I went to bed and although I was nervous about Michael, I went to sleep. But during the night I woke reflecting on intuition as I rolled over in my sleep still seeing those tracks on the clean waxed floor. I speculated on my conviction and instinct: on and on I went, in delusion and impression, wondering if it was a sixth-sense.. I started to find fault with myself. I hope the girls don’t get sick, I should’ve made them come in earlier. I lose my temper and I get tired and cranky, like this morning when I went back to sleep. I am certainly not a perfect mother. I take on too much sometimes with my bridal business and I am short with the children if they don’t follow my rules. I want my children to have freedom to become persons of character and to learn to think on their feet. But, then I taught them—common courtesy, to share, to respect others and say I am sorry.

Do I have too many rules? I asked myself. We play games, tell funny stories, tease, go to movies, have pillow fights, sleep-over’s and I play the piano, we sing together. What’s wrong with me, why am I dredging all this up? Real life is coping, rising to the occasion. As a farmer’s daughter I was taught responsibility.

Feeling wretched, I was obsessed with childhood challenges and thought how the comfort of music was like a friend who offered a helping hand. My youth was influenced strongly by it and mother taught that singing was a constructive message to the brain. I was taught to finish what I was doing no matter what came along.

Chores and responsibilities are part of life and you must expect them, Mother would say. Oh yes, to be sure I grumbled and whined, and I didn’t believe she knew everything. I hated to do dishes and complained, but she ordered me to; Sing, as you wash Annie.

Sing? Mother you must be joking! I didn’t want to do dishes period and I thought she was out of her mind to expect me to sing when I was annoyed and angry, of course I didn’t feel like singing. I protested and griped. You can’t mean I must sing now do you?

Mother said, That is what I said Annie, you only learn when you put into action the lesson, just sing now. Remember the next time I tell you something, recognize I have a purpose. She was serious with a stern and somber face, and it seemed be so ridiculous it made me laugh.

Why am I thinking of the past?

I walked the floor again, trying to focus on the present and yet my mind roamed, fretful worrying about Michael. The quiet house and solitude were my only companions. Agitation kept me awake.

I went downstairs to brew a pot of tea, thinking of my husband. I asked myself what happened to him and what should I do? It’s the middle of the night, I should’ve called the hospitals last night, should I call the hospital now? Should I wait till morning? Exhausted I slept once more and dreamed, memories of the past came back to me like a flood.

Mother’s kitchen was a hallowed place always smelling of wonderful aromas; of apple butter, nutmeg, yeast bread baking and various foods being prepared. The kitchen was the heart of the house and every morning I woke up to the smell of fried potatoes, bacon and eggs. Mother engineered her household responsibilities with careful influence, starting a fire in her cast iron cook stove and often repeated aloud ‘beginning is half done’ as she started her day with action.

My folks were mature and settled. Mother would get a broom to help me clean up the broken pieces if I broke a dish and she used everyday examples as demonstrations. We sow a seed and expecting it to grow in the garden. Nature supplies the cycle of rain to water and the sun warms the earth to nurture the seed and there is time for the seed to germinate, sprout and develop into a mature plant. We too must learn to wait, labor and expect our purpose to come about.

Mother loved to plant and her flower garden was her pride and joy. The garden was exquisite and her simple pleasure. During the season we always had some kind of flowers on the table. I think my mother restored her spirit in a secret spot of her garden, she seemed to find contentment in weeding as well as planting seeds and I remember her singing there in the garden as she worked enjoying the solitude.

As a child I thought my mother demanding, bossy and forever thinking up some kind of work for me to do and considered maybe I was a lazy child; nevertheless mother never allowed me to be lethargic. Now I see she was really a hard-working and industrious woman. There was much work to do on the farm so it was expected that children do our share as we became capable. Very slowly I realized there were lessons in everyday events that I was expected to learn.

I was always curious and asked a lot of questions. Mother told me it was how you look at difficulty that determines how you learn the lesson; you can see difficulties as ‘stepping stones, or stumbling blocks’—it was a choice. Annie everyday we have choices to make the best out of what is required of the day, we can choose a calm mind-set or get angry, complain and find fault.

Mother was innovative and wise, but as a kid, I thought she was just mean and a slave-driver. My brother Jake and I learned when mother spoke to listen. If she said ‘no’ she meant it and her discerning ‘look’ and a sharp tone of voice got right to the point. As kids we had fleeting attention spans and we often tried to get out of work. Jake always seemed to be up to some kind of a stunt and he tested the rules, but Mother was on to him. Sometimes mother made Jake cut a switch from the peach tree for her to discipline him on the seat of his pants, she switched me on my legs. Oh yes, Mother had an influence of authority, a natural psychologist and in our formative years she gave us choices along with her great respected rules, but we were slow learners.

My dad was the soft-spoken, gentle, quiet type who had the last word. He was a man’s man, an in-charge type, whom I always respected and adored. My parents were companions who supported each other and discussed serious subjects privately. Yet, Mother nitpicked sometimes, raised her voice occasionally and Dad would hear her out saying,—Now, now Gertrude and she knew when to stop.

As a child I had bad dreams. I was afraid of the dark, I’d get scared after I woke up seeing shadows lurking into looming silhouettes and ghosts, I would wake up in a panic scared to death. I’d wake Mother up and she’d get-up out of bed, patiently light an oil lamp and walk me through the house with the light. She showed me I was safe, the house was unchanged by darkness and it was just a bad dream. Mother opened the oven door, the cupboard and closet doors and we looked behind the furniture as she assured me that the whole house was just fine like always. Then I’d giggle with relief, as it seemed silly now and Mother would turn the kerosene lamp down low, go back to bed and I’d be content.

Then I recalled my paternal grandparents, the Klingers and their stories of leaving Germany to start their new life in America. They were grateful for this country and they were proud to practice freedom of speech and spoke of how America was a blessed opportunity to them.

Grandma Dana was a woman before her time with organizational business skills which made her a proficient entrepreneur. These memories bring a smile to my face as grandma was a petite woman with the face of an angel with intense blue eyes and who maintained the energy, vigor and get-up and go of a trained athlete. She prevailed over her many tasks and knitted while she organized the daily work and read her Bible.

Grandpa Peter was tall, broad shouldered and lanky, with a ruddy complexion, dark brown hair, blue eyes, wore a mustache and reserved. He appeared plain, but when he spoke, people listened: he was philosophical and a man of authority.

My maternal grandparents, Juliana and George Neiman were jovial, social and entertaining. Granddad was a professional businessman, short, stocky, out-going and broker for farm equipment. He was also a talented musician and speaker. Actually the family often sang solos in church with their gifted voices. Grandma Juliana was a consciousness pretty petite, fair haired woman who kept the family home comfortable. There was always laughter, music and singing after the Sunday dinner and much mischievous fun.

CHAPTER 2

HISTORY

"Whatever you can do or dream you can do begin it; boldness has genius, power and magic in it.’’

—Johann Wolfgang Von Goethe

I started school in 1914 and WWI had been raging in Europe for two years and the American people were going about their daily tasks and business as usual. The aggressive German army was fighting our allies and killing people there in Europe and the fighting was spreading into many nations. German Americans were now mistrusted by some folks and I was cautioned before I went to school about those who were suspicious of anyone with a German background.

Mother instructed me to speak only English at school and as a little girl of six years old this was a great challenge and big test for me. I was dreadfully afraid that I’d forget. German was my grandparents’ native language and we spoke it at home. I was close to my people and I didn’t want to bring any difficulty to the family and I tried to still my fears.

My grandparents came to America in 1872. Granddad came from Bavaria and spoke of how the government raised taxes, forced enlistment in the German army and spoke of other of callous powers which he rejected and opposed, giving him reason to flee the country. Grandma Dana’s family had lived in the section of western Germany near the Rhine River and the French area of Alsace and Lorraine. France was angry at Germany and there were religious fires that she didn’t agree with.

Grandma would tell me her story: Peter and I met on ship crossing the Atlantic Ocean and a friendship developed, we fell in love and I became his fiancée. When we landed in New York, we went through immigration at Ellis Island and learned about the opportunity for free land through the Legislative Homestead Act. This proposed offer was open to any citizen or alien who filed an intention to become a citizen, we applied for citizenship and speculated that each of us could claim a section of land.

Grandma told me, they decided to go west and set out to look for land. Peter had a vision and was seeking a particular section of land to layout a barn, a house and have fields to plant crops and he pictured this vision in his mind. He followed his dream as they forged rivers and rough terrain going on to new territory. Grandma Dana told me she fell asleep tired and weary many nights wondering if Peter would ever find his land site.

They journeyed many miles through all kinds of weather, crossed the Appalachian and Blue Ridge Mountains and the Shenandoah River. Traveling on westward, they ferried across the mighty Mississippi at Danner’s Crossing, worn out and tired, when they finally reached the Northeast Missouri Territory.

She told me, Peter stopped the team, got off the wagon seat, stretched his legs, standing tall and straight and surveyed the gentle rolling prairie. He called to her: Come look at this Dana, what do you think about settling here and make a homestead claim right here in this area, come look. She told me, she climbed from the wagon and together they stood above a valley looking at the gentle rolling hills and flat farmland. Peter put his arm around her and kissed her with zest. Dana, this is the land site I’ve been looking for! And this Northeast Missouri Territory is just opening for homesteaders. We are lucky, my dear.

She went on to say, she was exhausted from the long day’s ride, but looked intently again at the wide open location and it was a beautiful sight. Happy that he finally found his land she grinned back at him saying, Yes, Peter, it’s a beautiful place, the trees are so green and I like the lay of the land. I’ll agree to settle here.

Grandma told me she had prayed for guidance in coming to a new country and leaving her people. I prayed about everything, Annie, especially of marrying your grandfather, traveling with him and starting a new life here in a new country. I trusted God and I discerned that Peter was an honorable man, after I tested him, but I always had some personal money of my own to fall back on if I needed it.

Smiling at me grandma continued, It was an answer to our prayers Annie, the dream to come to America, to make a new beginning and to find farming land. It was a difficult choice for me and one of blind faith, yet I will always miss my homeland and my people.

Recalling her story she beamed as she went on: We rode out on horseback to survey the undeveloped land and to stake our homestead claim. We each measured 160 acres that joined on connected borders. We were determined to each stake-out personal claims as individual’s. Peter and I wrote our full legal names on our homestead claim and drove the stake into the ground to establish the section of land.

The Homestead Act was enacted by Congress in the year of 1862 and was set up for a homesteader to make claim to free land settlement to open up the country. The land of 160 acres was free to a person twenty-one years of age, who was head of household, resided upon the land and cultivated it for a period of five years. The first requirement was to physically stake out your 160 acres of land with your name on the markers. Second, file the claim at a regional claim office to document the claims location. The next step was to have the claim legally filed and recorded at the nearest county court house in your name and stamped by a judge.

Grandma Dana said, I was very disappointed and embarrassed that I had not understood the requirements for the homestead claim. But in spite of this, I found a lawyer who told me about a commutation legal clause that permitted a settler to acquire titled land for the payment of $1.25 per acre. So I, Dana Elizabeth Reinhardt purchased my own 160 acres with cash and pledged it as my wedding gift to Peter. Together we had a 320 acre homestead.

My grandparent’s, Dana Elizabeth Reinhardt and Peter Jacob Klinger were married on February 7, 1873 in a German Lutheran Church.

As pioneers they settled the land and their children were baptized in their church as they arrived. Their first son was my father who was named Carl Conrad Klinger. After my dad there were seven more boys: John Henry, Peter Paul, Jacob William, Alfred Jonathan, Theodore Charles, Rudolf Andrew and Grover Matthew. Their daughters were baptized Catherine Elizabeth and Crystal Elsa. All of the children took their catechism and attended the Lutheran Church.

Grandma Dana was proud of me her first granddaughter and told me stories with enthusiasm. She said that they made their dreams come true with God’s help and the Homestead Act, which was a major contribution to their success and to thousands of other settlers and other immigrants.

The Homestead Act opened up a whole new area of public domain. The Congress embarked on a great public Internal Program by chartering the Union Pacific Railroads and giving them large tracts of land and lending them money so that the east and the west could be united by the rail. The railroads encouraged easy immigration west for a growing industrialized nation requiring large amounts of labor. In 1864 a Federal Bureau was established and contract labor law was written to continue in one form or another until 1885. These devices speeded up the processes of industrialization. I was amazed my grandma knew so much history.

Grandma told me, Annie before I left Germany I sold all my belongings to raise revenue to come to America. She told me her father gave her extra money for an emergency as he was concerned about her leaving the country, but agreed with her motive as he knew if you want something, you have to make it happen.

She said, After we met, we believed together, in America we could accomplish a great deal with the opportunity of liberty and justice for all.

She told me, Being a clever man, Peter did just that and quickly accomplished a status as a farmer and a reputation as natural healer.

Granddad was gifted in knowledge of using herbal medicine to restore health to his family and to the community. His ability and success in helping others triggered faith in people by word-of-mouth for minor medical needs. In rural communities doctors were scarce and of short supply in those early days. Granddad Peter used common sense remedies and he studied books on herbs. Granddad kept records and sought to learn by reading anything he could put his hands on. There was always someone who needed some kind of help for a sick child or sick animal and he used his knowledge to help others.

On the pantry shelf Granddad kept a fifth of whiskey for a fever, mixed a tablespoon full with sugar and the juice of a lemon in a cup of boiling water for a ‘toddy’ and said to stay still and warm. For a cleansing tonic it was a pint of boiling water, 3 tablespoons of maple syrup or blackstrap molasses, half a lemon and cayenne pepper. They gargled salt water for sore throat and for a sour stomach added baking soda to a glass of water.

The garden of vegetable’s supplied some of their food, and Grandma Dana told me she dried beans and fruit in the hot sun and Peter dug a root cellar under the cabin to store the carrots, turnips and potatoes below the ground freezing zone. Grandma baked large loaves of brown bread from the whole wheat they raised. Granddad brewed his own dark ale from barley, wheat, oats and hops that he grew on his land. He claimed drinking a glass of the ale daily rejuvenated your health and insisted that the family have a glass with supper every night.

My exceptional memories of my grandma Dana’s stories were times when she spoke of her father. The tears would cloud her eyes and she’d tell me about when as a little girl in Germany. Her father liked to take her for walks to the meadow and he’d hold her hand. Annie, she’d pause and then she’d go on and brighten up—We’d walk along, stop to pick beautiful pink, yellow and white wildflowers in the field and take them back to the clock shop, where we lived upstairs.

Then she’d tell me about the pastime she loved most with her father. He’d take me for a boat ride on the Rhine River. We both enjoyed the ebb and flow of the water and the pleasure of sight-seeing… riding along on the river, as the boat traveled along on the clear cool water. She spoke of seeing rolling-hills and green valley’s; she spoke of seeing spectacular forests and the magnificent Vosges Mountains off in the background. She went on, Telling how the colors of the trees changed various shades of green and that the scenery fluctuated in sunlight and shadows as they floated down-stream. The boat traveled along into the lushness of a huge valley where vineyards of grapes thrived in the shadow of Vosges Mountains—a beautiful sight! She always wanted to go back to the mountains and back to hike in the Black Forest. She told, Father assured her someday he’d take her, but times changed before he could."

She said, Annie I learned different customs and traditions by observance when traveling. As a young woman I found deceitful, false hearted people who tried to persuade me in conspiracy as there was much unrest and trouble in Germany in 1870. There must be a providence of destiny and reason I escaped to America.

Grandma later, told me in a proud voice, how persistent my dad was, she said, Your dad even loved to plant seeds as a toddler. I’d hoe a row and little Carl would come behind, drop a seed in the ground and couldn’t wait for the seed to grow. He wanted to till, weed and care for the garden plants cultivate and help harvest and even help me dry fruit. We dried apricots and prunes, grapes and apples, by letting them sit on the hot roof, as the summer sun preserved the fruit.

Grandma paused in her knitting, stretched and yawned, Annie your dad would sell fire wood and kindling to the town people and always saved his money, he was a predictable and stable young man. And he took a fancy to your mother and fell in love with her the first time he saw her at the Lutheran Church. Gertrude was taking her first Confirmation with his sister Crystal and he decided she was the prettiest girl he ever saw and started planning to court her when she was older. They built up a casual friendship through his sister but because he was ten years older, he thought that he was too old for her.

He courted a couple of other girls but never felt comfortable with them like he felt with Gertrude, as he liked her ways. Carl was intelligent, single-minded and easy going guy who realized he was head over heels in love with Gertrude. But, he was shy and it took a long time to get the courage to ask her to go to a square dance. When he did finally get the courage to ask her father for permission to court her, her father didn’t object about the age difference, he thought in this case Carl was good potential husband material.

Mother said their courting days lasted for four years, and all this while Carl worked on building a house and plans for the future. She told me people said they were a handsome couple, she was small and petite with sandy hair and hazel eyes. Carl was a tall slim, dashing, dark haired man and blue eyed. They liked to skate and sled, the winter being a good time for farm people to slow down and have time to relax and have fun.

My mother was the eldest girl in her family of eight siblings and she was taught to be a lady, as well as take charge of the necessary chores that women were required. Both she and my dad were prepared for marriage. When she told me about her romance, she said that she fell-in-love with my dad’s smile, his courteous manner, his shy gentle and kind ways. Her sisters told her that he was a real catch, but mother spoke little her saga of love.

They had a winter wedding and mulled over plans for a honeymoon trip to St. Louis, Missouri. Neither of them had ever ridden on a train and the steam engine was the power that opened up the country and made traveling a possibility and adventure from coast to coast. Their trip that winter was at the right time for my folks to attend The Famous Louisiana Purchase Exposition in St. Louis. The displays demonstrated and fostered new ideas and they were anxious to gain new knowledge. The song, Meet me in St. Louie was keynoted at that time and became a significant and an important song for them. Mother said they were in high spirits as they boarded the Santa Fe.

St. Louis was a bustling city and there were many sights to see there in 1904. The art galleries, museums and the outstanding zoo—all within the cities Municipal Park. They visited the Missouri Botanical Gardens, the Memorial Plaza Auditorium, the old cathedrals and a few restaurants around the city. They also went aboard the colossal Delta Queen, a famous Mississippi River Paddleboat, to observe the magnificent lobby. These popular river paddleboats were floating hotels that traveled from St. Louis to New Orleans down the Mississippi River.

Their astonishing honeymoon ended as they returned to the farm and together they started their new life in the dark of the cold Missouri winter morning. They launched out each with their own task and duty for the new day. Carl milked and did outside chores and Gertrude rekindled the fire in the old cast iron cooking stove, warming the kitchen and making coffee when the stove got hot. She cooked eggs, bacon, and fried potatoes for a hardy breakfast. During breakfast they planned their day and their life was a contented environment of daily discipline. They were both eager to please each other and make a successful life. Carl counted himself lucky to marry the beautiful Gertrude and acknowledged their differences. He was easy going, quiet and dependable and she was, ambitious, assertive and hard-working.

January 10, 1907 was a celebration day! Jacob Albert Klinger was born and Carl was so proud to have a son. Jake was the first grandson on both sides of the family and a delight to all. They celebrated his baptism two month’s later. Gertrude was a strong and healthy young woman and Jake was a joy to them.

Two years later November 8, 1909 I came along the baby girl whom they named Juliana Gertrude. Mother said, they called me ‘Annie’ right from the first, as the name fit my personality. They told me I was born with black hair and blue eyes like my father, while Jake was fair-haired and brown eyed like our mother.

Jake and I were the first two grandchildren and we were adored by both set of grandparents and all of our young aunt and uncles who gave us both a lot of attention. We were each given a rocking chair for our second birthday. Grandma Dana ordered oak rocking chairs from Montgomery Ward catalog for Jake and later another for me. Jake’s chair was different from mine so we could tell them apart. I treasured my rocking chair and for my third birthday Grandma gave me a china dolly.

CHAPTER 3

THE SCHOOLHOUSE

More things are wrought by prayer than this world dreams of.—Alfred Lord Tennyson

I started school in a one room schoolhouse about a quarter of a mile down the road from my home. It was located on crossroads with a belt of cottonwood tree’s to the northeast. I walked to school as most of the children in those days did and we kids carried our lunches in tin pails and did farm chores before and after school daily. Everyone big and strong enough did chores. Labor was needed in harvesting and planting season so older boys would be dismissed if they were needed at home. People were proud to have the opportunity to own land and were motivated to be independent; work together and build a future for themselves.

The teacher of a one-roomed country school house had to be responsible to teach children ages 6 through 13, or older and to be in-charge, mature, and disciplined. She needed good teaching skills for writing lessons for numerous classes, wisdom and perception to handle the classroom with authority.

The school building was entered through its only door into a small foyer. A bell housed in a cupola on the roof of the building had a rope hanging down for the teacher to ring. The foyer had a wooden bench, pegs to hang coats on, a water bucket with a dipper for drinking and everyone drank from it. The school building was heated by a pot bellied stove that consumed coal and kindling firewood. The teacher, upon her morning arrival, would get the fire going to warm the room. The older boys were expected to carry in the fire wood, the coal, and keep the wood box full and fill the water bucket, taking turns with the chores. There were two out houses, one for boys and one for girls.

The teacher’s desk faced the door and often sat on a one step-up platform. Behind the teachers desk was the blackboard, the map, the flag and bookshelves for the books. The children’s desks faced the teacher’s desk and were centered in the middle of the room. There were three windows on each side of the building along the outside walls and the pot bellied stove was usually in the middle of the wall between windows.

The school house was a multipurpose building; a social center, and in rural places it was sometimes used for church services. Many schools had desks that were attached to wood runners so the desks could be moved for social events. There was fundraising events: chili suppers, pancake and sausage suppers and cake-walk benefit’s. People formed a circle and danced till the music stopped and someone won a cake if they stopped on the ‘cake-walk’ marked circle! It cost a