Northern Lights

By O. L. Brown

When Beth, her husband, and four small children, move to a small town in Northern Minnesota near the end of the Great Depression, the good job, which her husband hoped to secure, does not materialize. In dire straits, they are forced to live in an abandoned cabin and to call on others to help provide milk for their little children. 

 

They soon find there are others in need during this trying time, and as the frigid winter passes, Beth and her husband learn that the more they give of their meager resources, the greater the blessings they receive in return.  

 

This is a heartwarming story of love, sharing, and survival during a very trying time.    

• Language: English
• Publisher: O. L. Brown
• Release date: Dec 15, 2021
• ISBN: 9781519356703

O. L. Brown

O. L. Brown is retired and lives in Mesa, AZ. His books are gentle tales about ordinary people, their disappointments, challenges, loves, and triumphs that leave the reader happy, satisfied., and pondering the vagaries of life.   

Book preview

For JoAnn, Larry, and Trisha

The Story

When Beth, her husband, and four small children, move to a small town in Northern Minnesota during the tail end of the Great Depression, the good job which her husband hoped to secure, does not materialize. In dire straits they find an abandoned cabin to live in and are forced to call on others to help provide milk for their little children.

However, they soon find that there are others who also need help, and in helping others they find that the more they gave of their time and meager resources, the more they receive in return. They find that love and care for others brings many blessings to them.

This is a heartwarming story of how a young couple survived during a very trying time in their lives, and learned that many wonderful blessings come as you help others in need. 

C h a p t e r  One

THE JANGLE of the big alarm clock exploded through his sleeping head like a stick of dynamite going off in the deep recesses of an underground mine.  The jarring, racket reverberated through his sleep-clogged brain like a sledgehammer pounding on a Chinese gong.  How he hated to hear the sound of that instrument of torture to a sleeping man.  Surely the tumult would go away, and he could quickly fall back into a sweet and comfortable sleep, but it just kept on clanging.  His sleep fogged mind told him he needed to bring a quick end to the raucous sound to avoid waking his wife and baby twins.  Now, instinct took over and his arm came quickly out from the warmth of the covers, into the cool early spring air, and his hand groped for the button on the clattering instrument.  Mercifully, it fell silent.

He quickly brought his arm back into the warm comfort of the bed and let his half-raised head fall back onto the pillow.  The pillow felt comfortable and satisfying and instantly he could feel the soothing mist of sleep begin to envelop him.  How satisfying it felt!  He didn’t want to get up.  He would give almost anything to stay here in bed, to drift quickly back to sleep and then wake up slowly as the darkness fled before the oncoming dawn of a new day.  How nice it would be to get up at a reasonable hour like other working men did; eat breakfast at home and perhaps even spend a few minutes with his four kids before going off to work.  For a few moments he contemplated such a course of action.  From a back alley of his mind a voice whispered, Forget the cows, just go back to sleep!  Oh, how he wanted to give in to that soothing voice.  It would feel so good to put the cows out of his mind and drift back to sleep.  But he knew he couldn’t; he didn’t dare give into the enticing voice which spoke to him.  He knew he must get up and go and milk those cows.  Milking those cows paid the bills.  Milking those cows put a roof over their heads, food on the table, and provided clothing for him, his wife and children.  Jobs were scarce and hard to find.  It was early in the spring of 1941, and the country was still in the grip of great economic difficulty, and he was lucky to even have a job.  He knew he really had no choice; he would get up and go and milk those blasted cows! 

With a sigh of resignation, he eased his feet out onto the cold floor and sat up on the edge of the bed.  Instinctively his eyes sought out the barely visible face of the object of his scorn and hatred.  It was a cheap alarm clock with a face about four inches in diameter.  The hands and the hours, marked in Roman Numerals, were luminous, enabling him to clearly see that it was three-thirty in the morning.  Actually, he didn’t need to look at the clock to know what time it was.  It was always the same obscene hour in the morning when the alarm went off.  How he hated each morning.  Six days a week it rang at precisely three-thirty every morning.  It was his call to go and milk the cows.  He had been milking those cows now for almost two years.  He was sick of them; he wished that he could leave them forever. 

He stood up and groped his way down the short hall to the bath, shut the door and switched on the light.  He brushed his teeth, washed his face and combed his hair.  As he finished combing his hair he paused for a moment as he became conscience of his reflection in the mirror.  The man in the mirror looked older than twenty-nine years.  He looked tired and a little haggard.  Yes, he thought, he was tired and haggard.  He was worn out from getting up at three-thirty every morning and spending all day with those cows.  Two years of those long hours and milking those cows would make any man look tired and haggard! 

Leaving the small bath, he made his way to the little closet near the front door where he kept his work clothes.  He pulled on his clothing and shoes and then opened a door which led down into a small basement.  He switched on the light, which illuminated a coal-fired furnace.  Each evening, before going to bed, he banked it with coal, but by morning it was pretty well burned out and the house was cold.  He opened the little door to the furnace and taking a small shovel, which he kept nearby, he began throwing in coal.  Enough hot coals remained to start the new coal burning.  The house would be warm for his family when they got up in about three hours. 

With the furnace going, he left the basement and made his way to the second bedroom where his two oldest children were sleeping.  LeRoy, the oldest, was well into four years old and Ilene was two and one-half.  They were sprawled across the bed, with the covers pushed aside.  Only their pajamas kept them warm against the chill of the early spring night.  They didn’t stir as he re-arranged them in the bed and pulled the blankets up over them.  Quietly he returned to his bedroom and checked the crib which held the twins, a boy, Morton and a girl Marie.  They were just over six months old.  They had also kicked off the covers.  He carefully drew the blankets back up over them.  The room was small, and he turned from the baby crib and knelt by the bed and lightly kissed his wife, Beth, on the cheek.  She stirred and mumbled for him to drive carefully, as she thought she had heard it raining during the night; and to have a good day. 

He walked to the front door, pulled his rubber boots on over his work shoes and snapped the buckles shut.  He tugged on his coat, placed a cap onto his head and pulled on his gloves.  Taking his lunch pail from the kitchen table, which contained the breakfast Beth had prepared for him the previous evening, he quietly opened the front door to their little house and stepped out into the cool spring night.  He got into his little, black, 1931 Chevrolet coupe and pushed the starter with his foot.  The car started easily, and he let it idle for a couple of minutes to warm up.  When it was running smooth, he dropped it into low gear and eased it across the dirt yard, which was a little muddy from the rain, and on out onto the gravel road which ran past their little home.  It was only about a ten-minute drive to the Sinton Dairy, which was situated on the south edge of Colorado Springs, Colorado, and the cows.

It was a few minutes past four o’clock in the morning when he opened the barn door and switched on the light.  From long habit he retrieved a wooden wheelbarrow from the corner of the barn and began to fill it with grain, from the storage bin.  When it was full, he pushed it to the front of the milking stables and began filling the eating trough for the first forty milk cows so they could eat while he and his partner, Dick Ratford, who would arrive shortly, milked them.  Dick was always a little slow and usually didn’t arrive until around 4:15. He complained that he just couldn’t get out of bed when his alarm went off.  Charles could understand the problem.  He had it too; he was just a little more disciplined than Dick. 

While he went through the motions getting the feed ready for the cows, his mind drifted to the letter from his mother. His parents lived about two hundred and fifty miles away in McCook, Nebraska, and the letter which had arrived in yesterday’s mail, had contained some news which was unexpected.  The news would require a decision by him and his wife.  What should they do, concerning the unexpected news and the invitation which the letter contained?  He was sure about one thing the letter offered: it gave him a way of escaping from the 3:30 a.m. alarm every morning and all of these cows.  That, in itself, was very tempting.

THE GLEAMING RAYS OF LIGHT from the rising sun skipped over the eastern horizon and played hide-and-seek through the remnants of last night’s rain clouds as they declared the dawn of another day.  LeRoy was the first one to be up and about as the new day dawned.  Even though he was only four years old, he was almost always the first one up after his father had left for work.  He hadn’t heard his Daddy leave, but he knew that he was gone.  He was almost always gone when he got up in the morning.  His Daddy worked at a big dairy where there were lots of cows.  His Daddy, and another man, milked all of those cows every morning and every afternoon.  His Daddy had taken him, and his sister Ilene, to the dairy a couple of times.  It was a big place with lots and lots of cows.  The milk he drank for breakfast every morning came from those cows.  His Daddy must be pretty important to milk all of those cows. 

He raised himself up on his elbows and looked out the window.  He could see the bright shafts of light, from the rising sun, playing across the wet yard.  The sun was up, and he had been in bed long enough.  Besides, he wanted to play with the car and trailer set he had received for Christmas a few months ago.  He didn’t have a lot of toys and he loved the bright blue car and the yellow trailer which hooked onto the back of the car.  The farm set had also come with a little red tractor which he could load onto the trailer and haul around the living room.  He slipped out of the bed.  His sister, her long, golden hair, all askew across the pillow like scattered straw, was still sleeping.  She always slept late.  Even the new twins were usually up before she was. 

The house was pretty warm as he made his way into the small living room.  His car, trailer and tractor were in the corner where he had left them the previous evening.  It would be nice to play with them for a while before the rest of the family got up.  He also had a farm set with a house and barn and some animals.  He liked to set them up and then drive his car and trailer, with the tractor on the trailer, around his make-believe farm.  When the twins were up, he usually had to help his mother with them, and besides, they were always in the way, crawling around on the floor and knocking over his toys when he was trying to play.  That didn’t mean he didn’t like his new brother and sister, but it was nice to be up for a while, just by himself.  He knew his mother would be up before long and would help him get dressed and would fix him something to eat.

BETH HEARD LEROY get up and go out into the living room.  He would probably play with his toys for a little while before coming in and asking her to help him get dressed and inquire when he could have breakfast.  He dearly loved the car, trailer and tractor set they had given him for Christmas.  He could amuse himself for hours with his few toys.  Money was scarce and there was little available to spend on toys for the kids.  Even though LeRoy was only four years old, he took good care of his toys, but didn’t like to share them, since he was afraid that they might get broken.  Soon the twins would begin to stir, and she would have to get up and change them into dry diapers, warm their bottles and feed them.  Thank goodness they were sleeping all night now. 

It was comfortable laying here in bed.  In a few minutes all of that would change and she would be into another hectic day of looking after four little children.  They kept her on the go all day.  It never seemed to let up.  After eight years of marriage and the birth of four children, Beth sometimes looked back on her high school years as the most carefree years of her life. 

She hadn’t realized it when she married Charles, but she had also married into the large and clannish Adam’s family.  The huge family of Carlisle and Captolia Adams and their eleven children, ranging in age from her husband’s nearly thirty years, down to the youngest, who was only seven, just seemed to dominate everything and everybody they came into contact with.  Perhaps it was because it was such a large family.  At times she felt as if they smothered her like a wet blanket.  It wasn’t that they were a bad family; in fact, they were all good people, who attended church each week; however, they were a strong willed and an opinionated family, with a tendency to see most everything in either black or white.  In addition, they stuck together like fly paper.  What one member of the family did, they all wanted to do. 

Beth had recognized, even before her marriage to Charles that his mother, Captolia, was the dominant and controlling member of the Adam’s family.  She was aided in this position by a couple of her several daughters who were as strong willed as their mother.  Captolia was a small woman, barely exceeding five feet in height.  She always dressed very plain, without frills or ribbons, with her hair severely pulled back and tied in a bun.  She had a small, round, face which was set off with dark eyes that seemed to read a person’s thoughts.  She spoke through small, unsmiling, lips. Her dogma seemed to be; if it was fun, it was probably sinful.  However, this philosophy wasn’t necessarily shared by many of the other members of her family, including her husband, Carlisle, much to Charles’ mother’s discomfort. 

Beth had been born and raised on her parent’s wheat farm located on the plains of western Kansas.  As she reflected on those early years, she realized she had been raised in relative comfort.  They certainly hadn’t been rich or even middle class, but there had always seemed to be enough money for her to dress pretty well and to do most of the things all of the other young people of her age did.  She knew her father’s farm was paid for, and her parents lived a pretty comfortable life.  A comfortable life was in sharp contrast to her husband’s parents.  Charles father, Carlisle, had inherited a small farm when his father had died.  It was far too little acreage to make a decent living, there on the dry plains of western Kansas.  But to compound the problem, shortly after receiving it as an inheritance, Carlisle had mortgaged the little farm, to right what he perceived to be, a gross injustice done to his sister.  His sister had made the mistake of marrying a Catholic. Carlisle’s father had disliked Catholics and when he had died, he had disinherited his daughter by leaving her only one dollar as her inheritance.  Carlisle had used the money from the mortgage to give his sister the value of her portion of the land, which she would have inherited.  The sentiment may have been laudable, but the economics just weren’t there and by the middle of the 1920’s the bank had foreclosed, and their home and farm had been lost.  Since then, they had lived as tenant farmers and had moved frequently from farm to farm.  At the present they were living in a small town in southern Nebraska where Charles’ father worked as a day laborer wherever he could find employment.  Goodness knows decent jobs had been hard to find during the years since the onset of the Great Depression, which had begun over ten years ago.  Charles parents, and the family, who still remained at home, were anything but comfortable financially; in fact, they appeared to live pretty much from hand to mouth.  However, they all seemed happy enough, and never seemed to complain about their circumstances.  In fact, as Beth thought of the matter, it appeared to her that the entire family, except Captiola, was a little too happy-go-lucky about many things.  In Beth’s opinion, the family needed to be a lot more serious, and business like about their decisions. 

And now Beth’s thoughts turned to the letter they had received yesterday from Charles’ mother. The letter had startled her and Charles.  Captolia rarely got excited about most things, but there was no hiding her excitement in the announcement contained in the letter.

"The Lord has showered his blessings on us. You won’t believe our good fortune.  The Lord may test and try his followers, but He’s always there when they really need him.  Three weeks ago, a friend of your dads, returned from Minnesota and told us that he and his family were leaving to move to northern Minnesota.  He said he had gotten a job as a mechanic for one of the big iron ore mining companies.  He’ll begin work as soon as they have moved.  I know that both of you know that securing any kind of work these days is surely a gift from the Lord, and a good paying job is really hard to find. You won’t believe it, but his pay will be $1.25 an hour.  That’s $50.00 a week!  He said the manager had told him that all of the machinery, which America is sending to help the English in the war in Europe, has increased the demand for steel and the iron ore to make it, and that’s why they’re putting on more help.

As you know, your Pa ain’t had any steady work for several months, so he left last week and drove straight through to Grand Rapids, Minnesota to the mining company.  And praise the Lord; he has got a job as a mechanic at $1.25 an hour.  We plan to leave for Minnesota as soon as we can get everything arranged.  The manager, a Mr. Jorgensen, told your Pa that they were still looking for good workers and still have jobs left to fill.  We’ve talked with your sister Laurel and her husband Fred, your brothers Oliver and Brian, and some of the other older kids and I think that most of them want to move with us to Minnesota.  As you know, Fred, Oliver and Brian can’t find any work here abouts. 

Charles, you’re very lucky to have a good job of work milking cows and we don’t know how much money you’re making, but I’m sure it’s a lot less than what the mining company is payin’ for mechanics up in Minnesota.  Son, I think the good Lord is giving all of us, including you and your family, a real chance for a better job, and we would like for you and Beth and your family to come along with us to Minnesota.  You told me when we last saw you that you sure were tired of gettin’ up so early in the morning to go and milk those cows.  I think the Lord has provided you with this chance to escape those early morning hours.  Don’t get me wrong, there ain’t nothin’ wrong with getting’ up early in the morning and milking cows; goodness knows I’ve milked plenty in my time, but it’s just that the Lord is now giving you the chance for something better.  I know it’ll cost you a lot, but I believe you should telephone the manager at the mining company and see if their still hiring men.  I’ll get the telephone number from Pa and write it at the bottom of this letter.  Please let us know as soon as possible if you and Beth can come along with us up to Minnesota."

Beth sighed now as she thought of the letter and the invitation; almost a demand, that they join in the move to Minnesota.  She and Charles had talked about it for hour’s yesterday evening. 

Charles had been excited.  If I could get a job with the mining company at those wages, it would more than double our income.  Think of what that would mean to us, he had exclaimed.  You and the children have gone without so much over the past few years. 

He had gotten up from the kitchen table where he had been seated and had paced to the window.  He had stood there for a moment, as if looking out across the yard, and had then turned and looked at Beth with a crestfallen look in his eyes as he had continued.  It’s been so hard for us ever since we got married.  Who would’ve thought that this depression, as they call it, would hang on this long?  It’s been one struggle after another, just to find a job, any kind of a job, and keep our heads above water.  Beth’s heart had gone out to her husband as she had watched him lower his eyes and look at the floor as his voice cracked. 

She had gone to him and put her arms around him for a moment as she had looked up into his eyes and said, Charles, I know it’s been hard for all of us and especially for you.  You’ve worked so hard to put a roof over your family and feed us, year after year.  That’s about all a wife, can ask of a husband, and I am proud of you.  You’ve done better than many men during these hard times.

Charles had reached out and taken her hand and held it in his rough, work-worn hands.  He had been silent for a moment and then, looking into her eyes he had said in a quiet voice.  Beth, I want more for you and the kids than what we’ve got now. I want us to have a bigger house and some nice furniture. This house is so small that we have to keep the twin’s crib right there beside us in the bedroom.  He let go of her hand and looked around the room.  And look at this furniture, he had exclaimed, as he swept his hand around the room.  It’s old and a little shabby, but I guess that’s about all that you can expect when you don’t have any money to buy furniture and you must rent a furnished home.  He had turned and looked back at her for a moment and then, as if to put emphasis on his feelings, he had added.  And also, your dresses are pretty plain and worn.  You haven’t had a new dress in a long time.  I want my wife and family to have decent things to wear. 

He had sat down at the kitchen table and stared in silence at its pitted surface for what seemed a long time.  When he had looked up his face had the look of a schoolboy who was pleading for a new bicycle.  His voice was full of excitement, as he said, The kind of wages the mining company is paying would really put us on our feet.  He had run the fingers of his hand through his thick head of hair as he continued.  Oh, Beth, I think we should really think about moving to Minnesota.  Perhaps Mom is right, and the Lord has given us this chance for a better job.  We’d better take it while we can!

BETH WAS BROUGHT BACK to the present as LeRoy walked into the bedroom.  He was a handsome young boy, with a mop of light brown hair, which crowned a good-looking face; set off with sharp blue eyes.  He was thin and tall for his age, and he certainly took after his father in at least one respect, as he liked to be dressed up in clean clothing. 

LeRoy was quiet as he came into his parent’s bedroom, as he knew he mustn’t waken the sleeping twins.  He came to the bedside and said, in a whispered voice.  Mommy, when are you going to get up?  I’ve been playing with my car, trailer, and farm, but I’m hungry! 

She reached out and drew him to her in a hug and said, I heard you playing.  You’re a good boy to be so quiet and Mommy will get up right now and will fix you something to eat.  I’ve been awake for a while; I was just laying here thinking for a little bit. 

LeRoy looked at her and asked, Were you thinking about what Daddy said last night, that we might move a long way away?  And what’s a mine, where Daddy would work if we moved? 

Beth sat up on the edge of the bed and reached for her robe.  Both LeRoy and Ilene had been playing nearby during the early part of the evening as she and Charles had talked about the letter from Charles’ mother.  Ilene, at only two and one-half, was too young to understand any of the conversation, but LeRoy obviously wasn’t, and he had at least picked up on the fact that they had been talking about moving. 

Yes, I was thinking about talking with your Daddy last night about moving away from our home here, but we haven’t decided yet, and Mommy and Daddy are going to talk about it some more.  And what’s a mine?  Well... a mine is a place where they take a special kind of dirt out of the ground to make it into iron: that’s the stuff that your toys are made from. 

As they started down the hallway toward the bathroom, LeRoy reached up and took his mother’s hand.  You mean Daddy would be making my toys if we moved; that would be neat? 

Beth stopped at the bathroom door and looked down at LeRoy.  Well . . . no, Daddy wouldn’t be exactly making your toys; it’s a little more complicated than that.  You run along now and play again for a little while and mommy will be out in a little bit to fix you some breakfast.

OK Mommy, he said, as he ran out into the living room.

Beth was soon into another day’s routine.  After she fixed LeRoy some toast, cereal and milk, she started heating some water to warm up the feeding bottles for the twins.  By the time she was dressed the twins were stirring.  She laid them on the bed and changed and dressed them for the day.  She put them back into the crib and gave each of them a bottle, which they took eagerly.  They were actually very good-natured babies.  The presences of the other seemed to sooth and comfort the other, and consequently, they didn’t fuss much.  That was a blessing!  After they had finished their bottles, she would take them into the living room and let them crawl around for a while.  They liked that.  She then helped LeRoy select his clothing for the day.  He could pretty much dress himself but did need help tying his shoes.  When LeRoy was dressed, Ilene was stirring.  When Ilene awoke, she liked for her mother to sit in the big chair in the living room and hold her for a while.  Beth had plenty of things to do, but she knew it took a while for Ilene to wake up and she liked to sit in her mother’s lap when she first woke up.  Beth usually took time nearly every morning to hold her for a few minutes, while she combed Ilene’s long hair into curls.  Ilene was very proud of her long golden curls and liked for her mother to comb her hair.  As she finished dressing Ilene, the morning freight rumbled slowly by the back yard of their house, on its way into Colorado Springs.  The passing of the train usually meant it was around seven forty-five in the morning.  The early morning freight train was usually on time.

Beth was about finished washing the breakfast dishes, after her own breakfast and feeding Ilene, when she heard a knock at the back door.  It didn’t startle her.  She had a pretty good idea who it would be.  Actually, it wouldn’t be anyone she knew.  It would mostly likely be a man in dirty and tattered clothing who had been riding the rails all night and who had dropped off of the train which had just gone by as it slowed coming into the city.  He would be hungry and would be asking for something to eat. 

When she stepped to the back door and opened it, she felt the cool spring air through the screen door which stood between her and the man.  The sun was shining, and the air was beginning to warm.  The rain which had fallen during the night had washed the countryside clean and brought a sharpness and clarity to the air, which seemed to bring the mountains closer and intensify the green of the early spring grasses. 

The man stood on the bottom step and held an old, and dirt-stained hat in his hands.  The screen door was locked, but Beth wasn’t afraid of him.  These men, hobo’s they called them, were harmless, but they were all down on their luck and were all hungry after riding the freight train all night.  The face which looked up at her through the screen door was tired, drawn, sunburned and covered with several days’ growth of beard and the hair on his head was thin and disheveled.  But it wasn’t the man’s haggard and tired face which caught Beth’s attention; it was his eyes.  It seemed to Beth they were the saddest eyes she had ever seen.  They spoke of hard times, hopelessness and despair.  To Beth, those eyes conveyed a poignant and bitter story of the thousands of men who had been displaced and uprooted by the economic upheaval of the Great Depression. 

Like most of the previous hobos she had fed, the man looking up at her was dressed in dirty bib overalls.  Not the kind that buttoned up the front, but the kind which had two straps that came up from the back, over the shoulders and clipped over the buttons on the top of the bib.  Not only were the overalls dirty, but they were patched and torn.  She could see that his shoes were worn completely out.  The heel of one shoe appeared to be gone and the shoestrings were gone from both.  A long, ragged, overcoat hung over his sagging shoulders.  It was even dirtier than his