Humble Roots: Earl and Caroline

By Lona Root Haskins

An epic of a poor humble family’s survival. A poignant portrayal of a beautiful woman from the northern Wisconsin countryside and a man from the city who met at the end of World War I, fell in love and married. It is about raising a large family in sometimes destitute situations, and about how alcoholism affected their life, the failures of Prohibition, and a father driven to desperate measures. It is about their hard work ethic, and how finally owning property gave them a new determination to make something of their life.
You will be transported back to a time of country life before electricity, indoor plumbing, washing machines, or tractors, through the years of the Great Depression and the Dustbowl, and about how the Works Project Administration rescued families from a life of total poverty, about the emergency shipyards of World War II providing a living wage to unskilled laborers, and a family apart, with life in a logging camp, and the building of a new town.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu Publishing Services
• Release date: Dec 11, 2015
• ISBN: 9781483442082

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HUMBLE ROOTS

Earl and Caroline

LONA ROOT HASKINS

Copyright © 2015 Lona Root Haskins.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored, or transmitted by any means—whether auditory, graphic, mechanical, or electronic—without written permission of both publisher and author, except in the case of brief excerpts used in critical articles and reviews. Unauthorized reproduction of any part of this work is illegal and is punishable by law.

ISBN: 978-1-4834-4209-9 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4834-4208-2 (e)

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.

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

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Lulu Publishing Services rev. date: 12/07/2015

CONTENTS

Acknowledgements

Dedication

Foreword

Chapter 1   Shy Country Girl

Chapter 2   The Homeliest Man

Chapter 3   The Beginning

Chapter 4   The Gift of Bread

Chapter 5   The Noble Experiment

Chapter 6   Sharing a Home

Chapter 7   The Great Depression and The Dustbowl

Chapter 8   Works Project Administration

Chapter 9   Sonny Boy

Chapter 10   Mother’s Home

Chapter 11   The Shipyards of World War II

Chapter 12   Edine

Chapter 13   Betty Boo

Chapter 14   Mom’s Gardens, Wild Berries, Canning and Sewing

Chapter 15   Lylie Pylie

Chapter 16   My Life with Mom and Dad

Chapter 17   Gossip, Criticism, and Tolerance

Chapter 18   Drunks, Feeble Excuses, Declarations

Chapter 19   Life in a Logging Camp

Chapter 20   Tired of it All

Chapter 21   Unlikely Foster Home

Chapter 22   Building a Town

Chapter 23   Jerry Perry, Perry Werry

Chapter 24   Caroline’s 35-70 Café

Chapter 25   The Great White Plague

Chapter 26   California

Chapter 27   My Brothers’ and One Sister’s Memories

Chapter 28   Mom’s Last Years

Epilogue

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

I need to acknowledge my brothers, Forrie, Lyle, and Jerry. Thank you for allowing me to pick your memories to help me better understand our parents and all they lived through and endured for us. This was not an easy undertaking with all of us in our eighties, or very close to it, by the time we had our talks. Our four hours spent together were painful, emotional, exhausting, and very revealing.

I am especially grateful that you taught me to acknowledge the good characteristics of our father whom I had grown up hating for reasons this book will divulge. I can now accept that he loved and took pride in his children, and forgive. If not for his alcohol addiction he would have been a great father.

I also wish to acknowledge my children, Mitchell, Nathan, Dianna, and Joseph – the next generation, my husband for his support in my endeavor and for making many frozen dinners while I was working on this book, Noel for proofreading, assistance with my grammar, and giving a positive review, Lana for proofreading and computer assistance, and Anne for encouraging me to tell my story, for proofreading, and for providing a glowing review.

DEDICATION

This book is dedicated to the memory of my mother, Caroline Amelia Root. I am in awe of this simple, uneducated woman from humble beginnings and how much she was able to accomplish in a day and in her lifetime. I believe her to be the hardest working woman that ever lived.

She lived in a time before Pampers had been invented. In a day when women made their babies’ diapers, kimonos and blankets, and washed them by hand or, later, in a wringer washer, hanging them on clotheslines to dry in the wind. With no indoor plumbing, the water had to be pumped, carried into the home and heated on the wood burning cook stove.

It is also dedicated to the memory of my father. A flawed, diseased man who suffered through the agonies of alcoholism, guilt and remorse long before the advent of Alcoholics Anonymous and treatment centers.

Their wedding picture, the stories Mom told as I sat by her knee while she sewed, the rantings I overheard that were never intended to be shared by the children, and my memories as well as those of my siblings comprise this book of Earl Chrisman Root and Caroline Amelia Amidon: The Humble Roots. This is their story within the confines of my siblings’ and my nieces’ comfort.

FOREWORD

Lona has captured the essence of her parent’s story through her well-articulated narrative, and I found her writing to be a tender and poignant memoir of her parents’ experiences and relationship through the years.

The history and circumstances seemed to come alive as I read each chapter and, most importantly, I felt connected emotionally to what her parents, siblings and she experienced. The historical background provided a perfect backdrop to the narrative and deepened my understanding of what her parents endured.

After reading this story I found myself wishing that I had known Lona’s mother – a strong and determined woman who made things work for her and her family no matter what trials and tribulations she was faced with.

While reading the last few paragraphs I was struck with a sense of forgiveness and acceptance that permeated the story – any bitterness and resentment that could have lingered down through the generations was not present in Lona’s writing.

Lona is a living testimony to the best qualities of her parents and I am grateful and blessed to know her and to have been a part of her life for over 30 years.

Anne Dykstra, step-daughter

Bachelor of Arts in Education

Associate Degree in Graphic Design/

Electronic Publishing

SHY COUNTRY GIRL

Mom, why is your picture torn in half? I innocently inquired as a small child when I first noticed my parent’s wedding picture.

A somber bride and groom. Mom’s dark hair, her lovely homemade wedding dress and veil, her calf-high lace-up white boots, the wildflower arrangements that she carried in her arms and adorned the veil, her timid, shy stare at the camera masking her beauty. Dad’s dark suit and high collar, his brooding good looks, and serious expression; looking quite elegant despite his rather large nose which would be our inheritance from him.

By the time I saw the picture, it had been ripped into two fragments. As had the marriage; splintered but still clinging to the remains.

When the buggy dropped her off after the dance, seventeen year old Caroline quietly ran up the back steps to her room at the home where she served as a maid. Shrugging off her winter cape, she quickly unbuttoned her high top boots while her favorite sister, Annie, excitedly questioned her about the evening.

How was the dance, Carrie? Did you have a good time? Did anyone ask you to dance? Tell me all about it!

Carrie replied in a whisper, Hush, Annie. If we wake the children Mr. and Mrs. Smith won’t let us go out in the evening again. Help me out of my dress and into my nightgown and we’ll talk in bed.

It was 1917 and the two sisters had recently moved into town and Caroline didn’t want to risk losing this position. It had taken much talking to convince her Pa to let her go. She had worked hard on their farm on the Namekagon River outside the village of Hayward, Wisconsin. Cleaning this beautiful home, serving the meals, and helping Annie with the children was easier and far more pleasurable than milking cows, pitching hay to the animals, and mucking out the barn.

Carrie had wept when her father forced her to drop out of school in the ninth grade. She enjoyed learning and thought how unfair it had been when he allowed another daughter to continue, even though Caroline was the better student.

In the bed with the delightful down mattress, Caroline and Anna snuggled up together to stay warm and Carrie began to whisper. I met the homeliest man I have ever seen! He is tall and thin with deeply recessed eyes and a long thin nose. He made me think of Ichabod Crane that we read about. But he is very mannerly and a divine dancer. Rather mysterious looking in a hawkish way. He’s funny; he kept amusing us with jokes and stories. I fear he might be a drinker though as he kept going outside with his friends between the dances, and was feeling his oats by the end of the dance.

Annie shook her lovely head and cautioned, Mama wouldn’t approve. You know how she feels about Pa’s drinking.

I don’t care, Caroline declared. It was fun and I am going to see him again when the Munitions Factory boys come to town.

Pa, Samuel Edmund Amidon, was the descendant of Roger Amadowne who fled France with other Huguenots after King Louis VIII came to power in the early 1600’s, after the assassination of the beloved King Henry IX. Revealing the respect held for the deposed King Henry, three generations of Roger’s descendants were named Henry.

Roger first immigrated to England and then to the Colonies. He is first recorded in Salem, Massachusetts, being granted a half acre of land there on December 25, 1637. He worked as a shipwright, later moving with other members of their protestant congregation to found Rehoboth, Massachusetts, being granted land there several times.

Over the years the seven Amadowne children and their families dispersed throughout the Colonies. Census records from the 1800s show some of the families settled in Connecticut and New York.

Descendants gave the name a variety of spellings: Ammidowne, Amedan, Amadon, Amadoin. The majority, like Samuel’s grandparents, chose Amidon. The more courageous and daring families left siblings and parents behind to become pioneers. They traveled west where they primarily settled in Wisconsin. Samuel’s grandparents were in this group.

Samuel retained that adventurous spirit. As a young man he spent his early years working in the logging boom of nineteenth century Wisconsin. While courting her older sister he met and married a comely German girl, Caroline Weisner. Caroline was swept off her feet by the dashing Frenchman and endured her sister’s wrath to marry the older Samuel.

To pay off a family debt his father had incurred, they became indentured servants, driving a team of horses pulling a buggy with their paltry belongings to a logging camp. Samuel worked with the loggers and Caroline cooked huge meals for them until the debt was dissolved seven years later. When free of the family debt, they returned to live near their parents in Neillsville, Wisconsin. Their first three children: Edmund, Vivian, and her mother’s namesake Caroline Amelia, were born in Neillsville.

When Caroline was a toddler they purchased a farm on the Namekagon River outside the northern community of Hayward in Sawyer County, Wisconsin. Early snapshots reveal the tiny shack that was their first home on the farm. Sam’s mother had passed away and his father, Charles, accompanied them. Charles later drowned in the Namekagon River while out fishing. His obituary spells his surname Amidoin rather than Amidon. Five more Amidon children were born in Hayward: Anna, Inez, Delia (Deed), Clifford, and Eugene Barold, who died when he was two years old.

Mama Caroline, always called Carrie by Samuel and others, had a huge garden and taught her daughters to can the produce they grew as well as the deer, pork, sheep, and beef that Samuel butchered. She made their mattresses and pillows out of cheap ticking and feathers plucked from her chickens and ducks.

The girls learned to sew, knit, weave and crochet. Caroline had a standing loom with a shuttle and made rugs for their floors out of worn clothing the girls first tore into strips. On their infrequent trips to town she bought huge bolts of readymade fabrics and designed a unique style of dress or pinafore from the same material for each of their daughters. A family portrait where all the girls are gowned in individual styles from the same fabric bears witness to Carrie’s creativeness.

In early to mid-1800, the federal government targeted several tribes of Indians throughout Wisconsin for removal. The wealthiest site for virgin timber in Wisconsin was throughout Sawyer and Washburn Counties, and the lumber lobbyists pressured the government to forcibly remove or eradicate the Native Americans that made their homes in that area.

During the winter of 1850-51, deceptive schemes were orchestrated against the Wisconsin Chippewa Indians to dislodge them from their homelands and remove them to reservations in the west. The six bands of Chippewa Indians refused to leave their homelands. Shipments of rations were deliberately delayed and hundreds of Indians perished. The outcry from this travesty resulted in a change of course from the removal policy toward the Chippewa bands.

The treaty of 1854 was designed to assimilate the Native Americans into the mainstream of American life as small scale farmers. A reservation called Lac Courte Oreilles was eventually established outside Hayward and the Indians forced onto it. The Amidon property bordered this reservation.

Carrie was a kind benefactress to the Indians living there, helping deliver their babies, care for their young, and treat their sicknesses. In return she learned about the plants and herbs the Native Americans used to treat illnesses, infections, and as an antidote to treat poisonous bites and reactions to plants such as poison ivy and poison oak. This knowledge, and the remedies passed on from the impoverished German immigrants, was imparted to her daughters. Her daughter, Caroline, in due course made much use of these homespun treatments.

Samuel had the handsomeness of his French ancestors with piercing oval eyes, full beard and moustache. Mom told the story of when the whole family went to town in a buggy to have a family portrait taken. It was 1912. She was twelve years old, and the youngest of Sam and Carrie’s seven children was a year old. Pa went to get a shave and met us at the photography studio. When he walked in, Mama cried out in shock and anger. For the first time in their twenty some years of marriage she saw Pa without the beard and moustache she was accustomed to. She cried and the picture shows how tears ravaged her pretty face.

Sam, a gruff, hardworking, hard drinking man, supplemented the farm earnings as a trapper and hunter, hiring on to be a guide for hunting parties from the south. He enjoyed those excursions when he could liberally indulge his passion for liquor without being subjected to his wife’s wrath. When gone on these hunting excursions his children were expected to care for the animals and do all the farm work, working alongside an old Native American from the adjoining reservation. Much of this burden fell to the young Caroline.

Although taking advantage of the help he received from the ancient Indian chief, he didn’t share his wife’s trust of them and never treated them as his equal. More than once he was heard saying None of my daughters better marry a god-damn Indian. Ironically, two of them did marry half breeds as their father referred to those of mixed blood.

Sam dominated his wife and bullied his children. Two Amidon granddaughters related a gruesome tale their parent told which reveals his expectations on his already burdened wife. One of his ewes gave birth prematurely and during the difficult birth the ewe died leaving a tiny lamb. The other ewes hadn’t had their milk come in yet. Mama Carrie was nursing her youngest child and Sam brought the lamb in for Carrie to nurse. When she objected and attempted to refuse, he shouted ‘god-damn it, Carrie. You’re like a cow; you’ve got more milk than that damn brat needs.’

I was horrified when I heard this story. But my cousins went on to explain What was he to do? Times were hard back then and he couldn’t afford to lose that lamb. It wasn’t all that unusual for farm wives to be expected to nurse an animal.

Sam was a rogue and a ladies’ man when away from the farm and his family. Their adult daughters talked about how Pa brought a woman home to live with them. Caroline said We thought she was our Aunt Lizzie. We were told to call her that. Only later did we find out she wasn’t our Aunt at all, but Pa’s lady friend. Mama was unhappy about it but she didn’t have any recourse. Pa was so domineering she had to put up with it. Lizzie lived in the home until Pa died and Mama sold the farm and moved into town.

In winter the Amidon children were picked up by a cutter that skimmed across the ice and snow behind a team, and a buggy when the snow melted, to be driven to a small one room school in town. A picture taken at the school in 1904 shows a precocious four year old Caroline with her older siblings, having been permitted to start first grade at this young age. She was an excellent student who loved reading and learning, and had no problem keeping up with the older children in her class.

Caroline always took books home from school to read. Not that there was much time to read when school was excused as the children all had chores to do when they got home. She learned at a young age to prepare food and serve the meals. She swept floors and once a week helped with the mopping of the floors