Rough On Rats: The Trials and Tribulations of Buck Steichen

By Bob Riepe

Buck Steichen is doing his best to endure the tribulations that accompany living in rural Minnesota during a time of drought, insect infestations, and other hardships. Buck eventually finds happiness with Ellie Eberling, and in July 1874, he marries her, purchases farmland, and builds a house. It seems Buck has realized the American dream—or so he thinks.

Rough on Rats is an epic tale of a family’s struggles in rural Minnesota as they do everything in their power to survive amid trying times.

“The book captures your attention immediately and holds your interest throughout, wanting to find out what happens next to Buck. I think we can all relate to those who try so hard, only to be beaten down again and again.”
—Vicky Anderson,Otter Tail County Historical Society

“I really enjoyed it. I actually found it easy and fast to read. I couldn’t wait to find out what was going to happen next.”
—Mary Pfeffer, East Otter Tail County Museum

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu Publishing Services
• Release date: Jan 6, 2015
• ISBN: 9781483423807

Book preview

ROUGH

ON RATS

The Trials and

Tribulations

of Buck Steichen

BOB RIEPE

Copyright © 2015 Bob Riepe.

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: 978-1-4834-2379-1 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4834-2381-4 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-4834-2380-7 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2014922576

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: 12/29/2014

CONTENTS

Preface

Acknowledgements

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

About The Author

PREFACE

In the summer of 2012 I was researching the cemetery of St. Joseph’s Catholic Church, in rural Perham, Minnesota. I attended this church until it burned down in 1965. It was never rebuilt. I was quite amazed that there were so many unmarked graves, so I divined the old part of the cemetery and was able to find and identify 151 graves. I began researching the people that were resting there, and one of the family names that I became interested in was the Steichen name.

I was enthralled at the story I uncovered, of all the typhoid fever that was devastating to Louie. He had sixteen relatives that died in a short period of time between 1892-1905. All except three are buried in this cemetery. What I couldn’t find was the gravesite of Louie, himself.

The story that I’ve told is based on newspaper articles from Fergus Falls and Perham. All of the characters are real. Some names were changed. After months and months of research, I finally found the cemetery where Louie is buried. It is in the Ottertail County Poor Farm Cemetery, north of Fergus Falls, Minnesota, a little to the west of the State Hospital Cemetery. My goal was to find not only the cemetery, but also the gravesite of Louie.

When I did finally find the cemetery, I was surprised to say the least. No headstones, no grave markers, nothing but tall unkempt grass. This cemetery was active between 1882-1938. It was sold by the county in 1938 and a short time later the grave markers were pulled up and the land went under the plow. It remained that way until the late 1970’s when a marker was placed at the southwest corner of the cemetery, stating that this area of 150'x150' was the Ottertail County Poor Farm Cemetery.

Theresa Rassel and I are in the process of finding and identifying the unmarked graves. We have found 171 graves, and have about half identified. I am quite sure that I have found the exact grave of Louie Steichen.

My original goal was to find his grave, but now it has changed to finding and identifying all of the graves. Each has a story and I plan on sharing them somewhere in the future under the series of : RAW DEALS, with a sub-title for each. (At least five are planned). So, this first in a series is: RAW DEALS, with a sub-title of ROUGH ON RATS.

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

I will forever be indebted to Ancestry.com, a site which I used almost daily in my search for genealogical info. I would suggest this site for anyone who wants to learn about family histories. I cannot express how much I appreciated the hard work of Vicky Anderson, and the crew at the Otter Tail County Historical Museum, in Fergus Falls, Mn. Mary Pfeffer, at the East Otter Tail County Museum, in Perham, Mn., was also of great help. Prime sources of materials were gleaned from the following newspapers: Perham Enterprise Bulletin, Fergus Falls Journal, and Wheelock’s Weekly. A special thanks to Frances Hoffman and Art Fithen for their input on the history of Richville. I would also like to extend a thanks to Linda Hoover for providing me with a detailed account of the early history of Richville, through the eyes of Mrs. J.B Hoover.

THIS BOOK IS

DEDICATED TO:

PAULA KNUTTILA DAMM

The book captures your attention immediately and holds your interest throughout, wanting to find out what happens next to Buck. I think we can all relate to those who try so hard, only to be beaten down again and again.

Vicky Anderson,

Otter Tail County Historical Society

I really enjoyed it. I actually found it easy and fast to read. I couldn’t wait to find out what was going to happen next.

Mary Pfeffer

East Otter Tail County Museum

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CHAPTER 1

Welcome to the world of Louis Buck Steichen. It is Saturday, March 25, 1905, a time of convictions and evictions, a period of impressions and depressions, an era of passion and compassion, a time of guilt and a time of innocence. While the late-afternoon sun was ridding the darkened snow from Louis Steichen’s farmyard just outside the newly founded village of Richville, Minnesota, questions abounded concerning the life and times of Buck Steichen. Yes, questions indeed! Was he a victim, or was he the perpetrator? Was this a good time or a bad time for rats? Who were the rats? Why the obsession with Rough on Rats? An onslaught of typhoid fever had born down on Buck, ending in his death, but what was the cause—an accident, a suicide, or a murder?

The sordid homestead begged for attention as Buck puttered about, placing small amounts of rat poison in various spots near the barn, the chicken coop, and the root cellar. The fifty-seven-year-old had long, unkempt hair under a frayed, full-shaped nutria-fur fedora. He wore a disheveled, worn, patched cassimere suit. As he worked, he sang a song to the tune of The Little Brown Jug:

Squealing children, scolding wife were not the pest of my poor life. Wherever I lived, in house or flats, my plague has been those horrid rats. They ate our meat, our bread, our shoes. We could not have a quiet snooze. One day my wife did chance to doze; they pinned my baby by the nose. R-r-rats! Rats! Rats! Rough on Rats! Hang your dogs and drown your cats. We give a plan for every man to clear his house with Rough on Rats. I got a cat; I set a trap and thought to have a quiet nap. But scarce in bed we snug were laid, when round the room the villains played. My wife jumped out upon the floor to strike a light but soon did roar. As well she might, for you must know the steel trap had her by the toe. R-r-rats! Rats! Rats! Rough on Rats! Hang your dogs and drown your cats. We give a plan for every man to clear his house with Rough on Rats. But rats were not the only pest to spoil our food and spoil our rest. Fresh troubles did each day arise: mice, roaches, bugs, mosquitoes, flies. But now I’ve got the tip at last and soundly sleep and eat quite fast, for we have banished all the crew, and you shall learn the secret too!

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While continuing to sing, Buck noticed a wagon approaching. He stopped and watched the visitors come closer and closer. Putting down the poison, he went over to greet them. Ah, Charlie, Kate. Welcome! What a surprise!

Hello, Buck, said the forty-year-old Charlie Austin.

What brings you here? Buck asked.

Was wondering if I could get some firewood.

Of course. Of course, my friend. You are welcome to as much as you need, offered Louis as he pointed to the woodpile. But first, let’s go inside and warm up a bit.

The threesome went into the dilapidated house. So are you all moved in? Buck asked.

Ya, replied Charlie. But I think I’ll need to build a new one. That wind just blows right through the walls.

That house was built about the same time as mine. I have the same problem.

Ya, I don’t know what I was a-thinking when I bought it, Charlie admitted.

Folks! I’d like you to meet the rest of my family. Most of my kids are gone, but I still have three mouths to feed. Junior! Maggie! Freddie! Buck called. Come down here!

The three came down the stairs and obediently walked to their father’s side.

This here is my boy Junior! He’s what … ah, fourteen. My cowboy. He absolutely loves working with horses. My little housekeeper here is Maggie. She’s twelve. My little savior. If she weren’t around, we’d a starved to death a long time ago. And here is little Frederick. He keeps me on my toes. Can be a challenge sometimes. Kids, this here is your new neighbors, Mr. and Mrs. Austin.

Pleased to meet you, said Maggie, a petite blonde, as she curtsied and shook Mrs. Austin’s hand.

Freddie acknowledged Mr. Austin and then ran over to the window. Here comes Emmy! he shouted joyfully.

Buck walked over to where Freddie was. Huh! She’s with him again.

Charlie looked over at his wife. Oh … ah, maybe we should be leaving, dear.

You stay right there, shot back Buck as he went into his bedroom. Junior, take the kids upstairs and stay up there until I tell you to come down.

As the children hurried off, Buck reappeared with a double-barreled twelve-gauge shotgun in hand. He set the gun down by his side and waited for his daughter to enter.

The twenty-one-year-old Emma appeared in the doorway and glanced over at her father. Pa! she gasped. What are you doing with that gun?

Buck stared at the man standing beside her. It’s him!

Pa, I have a question for you.

Yes. What is it?

I want your blessing. Joe has asked me to marry him. Will you—

No! Never! interrupted Buck. That man is old enough to be your father. My God, girl. Don’t you realize what you are asking?

But Pa! I love him, Emma protested.

Love? You don’t know the word.

And he loves me.

Damn it, Em. He’s divorced! How in the Sam Hill can you even think about doing such a thing?

That’s not his fault.

He has four children, and what did he do? He gave them up for adoption. What kind of man would do such a thing?

He was just looking out for what would be best for the children.

Buck lifted up the shotgun and pulled back on the hammer. Nonsense, child! If you go ahead with this foolishness, I’ll disown you.

But Pa!

Buck raised the gun and said, Get out of my house! Take that good-for-nothing with you! Don’t make me use this!

But—

Either leave, or I’ll use this gun. You got me so dang riled, I’m liable to use this.

Come on, said forty-five-year-old Joe as he grabbed Emma’s arm. Let’s get out of here. He’s crazy!

You get! Get out of here! I don’t ever want to see you around here. As far as I’m concerned, you’re not my daughter, Buck yelled.

Joe and Emma rushed for the door. As Emma headed out, she turned around. Wiping tears from her eyes, she looked directly at her father. You haven’t heard the last from me. I’m not going to let you ruin my life like you’ve been doing to the others.

Buck watched as the two got onto their wagon and left the yard. He put down the gun and sat down on a nearby chair. My God! What have I done? he gasped as he placed his hands over his face. Why, Lord? Why?

Charlie and Kate, who had been standing in the background, hurriedly headed for the doorway. I think we’d best be getting home, noted Charlie.

The wood?

I’ll come back tomorrow. Good-bye, my friend.

Buck sat there and began crying. Nothing good has happened to me. Dear Lord, why are you constantly testing me?

Two days later, snow was gently falling as a man on horseback approached the Steichen yard. It was young Frank Johnson, the constable from Richville. He stopped in front of the main entry, dismounted, and knocked on the door.

Maggie opened the door.

Mag! Is your father home?

Yes, sir. Just a minute. I’ll get him.

In a moment, Buck appeared in the entry. What you want, Frank?

I’m sure you know why I’m here.

To be honest, no, I don’t, Buck said.

Well, I had a couple of visitors last night, said Frank. Emmy stopped by and filed charges against you.

She what?

I am placing you under arrest, Buck. I need to take you to the Fergus Falls jail to be tried in district court for threatening to kill your daughter with a loaded shotgun. Get your coat and boots on.

But my children?

Mrs. Austin will be here to take care of them until you get this mess straightened out.

I can’t believe my Emmy would do such a thing. She had to know I’d never harm her.

Well, she sure was mad, Frank said.

Buck placed a black derby hat on his head and put on a pair of woolen gloves. How are we going?

The stage. It’ll be waiting for us in town.

Buck sat across from the twenty-two-year-old constable, Frank Johnson, as the stagecoach approached the Ottertail County jailhouse, in Fergus Falls. Buck watched as the stagecoach headed up the hill where two large buildings stuck out: the county courthouse and the county jail.

The county jail complex was the nearer building, located on the corner of Junius Avenue and South Mill Street. The huge building—two-and-a-half stories tall—served not only as a jail but also as a home for the county sheriff. The sheriff’s residence and office took up the front half of the building, while the jail was located in the rear.

Farther up the hill and southeast of the jail stood the magnificent county courthouse with its dominating north-facing steeple.

The stagecoach pulled up on the east side of the jail. Constable Johnson led Buck up the steps into the office of the sheriff, Orris Albertson.

The fifty-five-year-old sheriff was sitting behind his desk. Hearing a knock on the door, he rose to greet the new arrivals.

Mr. Albertson, said Frank, I have a new customer for you. This is Buck Steichen. He’s going to need a place to stay until he gets his day in court.

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Welcome, Mr. Steichen. I’ll be glad to show you to your new home. Follow me!

Sheriff Albertson led Buck through a doorway and into a long hallway. There was an iron-barred door on the left, which he unlocked.

After entering the hall, Buck was amazed at how large it was: ten cells on the main floor and ten more above. A large wall divided the cells into two separate groups. An open stairway led to the open second floor. All of those cells were enclosed in another large set of bars that went around the entire cell block. An iron cage built of vertical tubes of decarbonized iron surrounded the twenty cells. A jailor’s corridor ran around the cells on the outside; the iron cage formed the outside wall of each cell. Outside of the jailor’s corridor was the brick outer wall of the building, perforated by a strongly barred window opposite each cell. The floor of each story was composed of large slabs of marble, a single slab flooring the cells.

Sheriff Albertson led Buck to cell number three on the first floor on the south side. He could see other inmates up on the second floor but quickly realized he would be unable to interact with them. As far as he could tell, he was the only person on the lower level.

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The cell was eight feet by ten feet. It contained a single cot, which had a small white pillow and two brown blankets. A little side table was at one end and a deodorized slop bucket at the other. Next to that was a small porcelain sink.

We have a toilet in each section, noted the sheriff. "You just let the jailor know when you need to use it. It is cell number five. It, too, has running water along with a tub and commode.

You’ll notice there is a set of clothes lying on your bed. I ask that you take everything out of your pockets and place them in this basket. Then take off your clothes and put on this jumpsuit. You will be provided a new suit weekly. That will be the only clothes you wear for as long as you are here. Any questions?

No, sir.

So, what are you in for?

There’s been a horrible mistake. My daughter filed charges against me for threatening her, but it is all a misunderstanding.

Well, that’s what the court system is for. Now go ahead and change your clothes.

Buck began to undress right in front of the sheriff. After taking some small change out of his pocket and placing it in the basket, he took off his shoes and socks and dropped his pants. After taking off his shirt, he replaced it with a blue inmate outfit.

Sheriff Albertson took the basket and the clothes and left the cell, locking it behind him. Hope you have an enjoyable stay.

Buck sat down on the cot and glanced around at his new home. He looked out the window directly in front of him and noticed the Northern Pacific Railroad station down the hill and off to his left. Off to his right, he could see parts of the county courthouse.

He lay down on the cot and stared up at the ceiling. My God! he whispered. What’s going to happen?

CHAPTER 2

Next Day, Buck was sitting on a single bed in his new jail cell. He perused the surrounding area, noticing several other inmates. In the cell next to him was a teenage boy who was adjusting a violin.

What you in for? queried Buck.

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Photos Courtesy of Otter Tail County Historical Society

They’re saying that I committed murder.

You that boy from Corliss?

Yes, sir. Peter is my name.

You know how to play that?

I sure do. Do you want to hear?

All right.

Peter set up the violin and began playing Amazing Grace.

Buck sat there in disbelief. How beautiful! he murmured.

Several other inmates too were awestruck and stopped what they were doing and listened. When Peter finished, they stood up and clapped in appreciation.

Where did you ever learn to play like that? queried Buck.

I taught myself.

You are very talented, young man. So tell me, are you the guy they say killed his father?

That’s what they claim.

Did ya?

No, but I can’t prove it. I was out in the barn doing my chores. The bullet came through the front window. It just so happened that the barn is where the shot came from.

Do you go to school?

No. I tried going, but it just wasn’t for me.

Your pa didn’t make you go?

No. Too much to do at home.

Two middle-aged men entered the cell block and began distributing food trays to the inmates. Time to eat! they shouted.

Buck looked at the tray. Cold soup and dried-out bread again? That’s what we had this morning.

You’re lucky you’re getting this, shot back the server.

Lucky? I don’t know what luck is.

You might as well get used to it, suggested Peter. It’s better than bread and water. Tell me about you. Are you married? Do you have a family?

Ah, my friend, you probably don’t want to know about my background. It’s a long story of failure after failure.

Where you from?

"I came over from Luxembourg in sixty-four at the ripe age of sixteen. Came with my sisters, Margaret and Susie, and my brothers, John and Matt. We all came up to Minnesota. My sis, Maggie—she found a husband right away. Married a farmer, Nick Kremer, down near Hastings. I moved in with them and helped with the farm work. After a few years, my sister Susie got hitched to a Mikel Huss up in Stearns County not far from St. Cloud. I moved up there and lived with them for a while. It was while there that I kept hearing about unbelievable opportunities about this Perham area. So in the spring of seventy-two, I moved up here with Susie and her family. By then they had already had three children, Emma, Louis, and Annie.

"Mike got himself a nice piece of land out in what was then Marion Lake Township, now Perham Township. We started clearing the land. Boy, I tell ya, that was some job! Cutting down those big trees, picking them darn rocks that seemed to be everywhere, and building a house and barn. I get tired just thinking about those days. We didn’t have much for equipment in those days. Done dang near everything by hand. Had a couple of oxen. They really helped.

"One of the first people I met here was Jacob. Jacob Bachleitner. He turned out to be my bestest and closest friend. Jake was a brother-in-law to a Joe Lein, who was our neighbor to the northwest. That Joe had a mighty fine family. Well, it so happened that Jake, he went and found himself a woman. Annie Schmand was her name. I had the privilege of being best man at his wedding on July 8, 1873. It happened at St. Joseph Catholic Church, about four miles southwest of the new village of Perham. The church was just built the previous year on a forty-acre parcel donated by Balts Fuchs to the St. Paul Diocese. It was a small log building with a large front door and a window on each side. A small steeple adorned the top. It was located in the lowlands of the site. I remember that day just like it was yesterday. The men with their full beards all came in and sat down in the left-side pews, while the wives and children filled the seats on the right. I was standing off to the side, waiting for the festivities to start. Father Gregorevchich stood by the small wooden altar awaiting the bride. The maid of honor was eighteen-year-old Mary Lein, a petite brunette. I thought she was the most beautiful gal around until I saw Ellie walk in. Ellie—that was the name of my future wife. Maria Elizabeth Eberling. She came walking in with her sister, Catharine Rieder, and Catharine’s husband, George. Ah, what more could a man want than to have a lady as pretty as that! It done got me excited so bad that I had trouble doing my duties as the best man.

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"As I stood there waiting, all I could think about was that girl. Where did she come from? Why was she here? She didn’t genuflect when she came in the pew, so that musta meant she wasn’t Catholic. Boy, she sure did look pretty! Gonna have to introduce myself to that lady! She spotted me. I smiled. She smiled back. Yes, she noticed me, and what a smile!"

How was I going to get her to like me? What kind of plan do I need to make up to woo her into my corner? Just then, Annie appeared in the doorway, and the wedding was about to begin. Everybody’s eyes turned to the center aisle as Annie began walking down the short aisle. What a beautiful young lady. Hadn’t been in the States for very long. Hardly could speak any English, but that didn’t matter to Jake. Heck, he still slipped in a lot of German when he talked, and he had been here twice as long.

After the ceremony was over, I looked around for that Ellie, but she had disappeared. Nowhere to be found. George and Catharine were also gone, so I assumed Ellie had gone too. For the rest of that day, I walked around just thinking about that pretty little thing and dreaming about what it would be like with her as my bride. Why, I even had trouble sleeping at night. Couldn’t get her out of my mind. I just had to meet her! I just knew she was the gal for me.

"Next day, I was out in a field with my brother-in-law, Mike Huss. We were busy pulling stumps out with a pair of oxen we had borrowed from Mr. Lein.

‘That was a nice wedding yesterday, offered Mike.

"‘It sure was. By the way, did you notice George and Catharine