Irene

I was saddened to hear of the death of Irene Doyle from my cousin, Owen Polifka, who was very close to Irene and and her husband, Joe. I happened upon Irene's obituary online in The Daily Journal of Fergus Falls.

Anyone who lived in Tenney in the early years remembers Irene and Joe Doyle. Irene Doyle and Doris Raguse were the last teachers to serve the Tenney School before it closed, in 1956.

I had the lovely experience of meeting Irene about a year ago when she attended my book signing in Campbell. The above photo was taken at the Ranch House in Campbell the day of the book event (Irene is in the plum-colored coat, next to Tom Polifka). I so clearly remember her coming up to me, searching for the details of my face through her failing vision, touching my arm, stroking it as older women sometimes do as they talk to "young folks" such as myself. She told me how thankful she was and how proud she was of me for the effort I had put in to THE TENNEY QUILT, and spoke with such pride and joy about her memories of our little town of Tenney and all its children that she loved and nurtured throughout her career. I had never met Irene, to my knowledge, but she made me feel as though I had known her forever or perhaps been a former student. I immediately understood why she was so loved in the area.

Irene was unable to attend the Tenney Gathering at the Tenney Church this past May, as that was the very day that a memorial service was held for her beloved husband, Joe. Blessed be the memory of Irene and Joe Doyle!

Following is the text of the obituary as it appeared in the Fergus Falls paper:

1918 - 2008
Irene Doyle

Irene Angeline Doyle, 89, of Weslaco, Texas, died Wednesday, Nov. 19, 2008, at her home just one month short of her 90th birthday. She suffered a stroke at the end of September very shortly after returning to Texas from Minnesota where she had been to sell her farm.
Irene Thompson was born Dec. 19, 1918, in Veblen, S.D., to Anna Dahlberg and Christian D. (C.D.) Thompson. Her parents died when she was a baby. She was raised by Bertha (sister to Anna) and Alfred Thompson (brother to C.D.), her aunt and uncle.
She married William (Joe) Doyle on April 7, 1941.
Irene graduated from Veblen High school in 1937, earned her teaching credential from Northern State in Aberdeen in 1940, and earned a bachelor of science degree from Moorhead College in 1965.

Irene was a life long teacher in Tenney, Fairmont N.D., and Campbell. Her teacher's heart was evident in all that she shared with others. She was active in her church and garden club.
Irene raised a huge garden each summer on her Minnesota farm. She had a keen interest in plants of all types and shared her seeds, produce, and knowledge with anyone who expressed an interest. She will also be remembered by many for her passion and talent for clog dancing.
Irene and Joe had no children of their own, but were parents to all.

Irene lost Joe, her husband of 67 years; and her sister, Evelyn, this year.
She is survived by nieces, nephews; grateful students; and loving friends.

In lieu of flowers, Irene would have been honored if you would make a contribution to either St. Pius X or the Church of St Gall or your favorite charity. Notification of such may be sent to Irene's nephew: Larry Helseth, 12818 SE Forest St., Vancouver, WA 98683.

Service: 9 a.m. Wednesday, at St. Pius X, 600 S. Oklahoma Ave., Weslaco, Texas

Minnesota service: 10 a.m. Saturday, Dec. 13, at the Church of St. Gall, in Tintah Minnesota.

Burial: Church of St Gall cemetery in Tintah

Funeral Home: Joseph Vertin and Sons Funeral Home, Breckenridge

Condolences may be sent online at www.josephvertinandsons.com

More From North St. Paul

Dar Lundeen sent me this photo taken at the North St. Paul Library event last week. I am flanked on both sides by daughters of Tenney Quilt signers. On the left is Betty Lundeen, daughter of quilt signer Ann Janke of Tenney, and on the right is Char (Richardson) Anderson, daughter of quilt signer Amy Richardson. That's me in the middle, and of course the star of the show is the Tenney Quilt, in front. You Tenney folks out there in the world certainly know the Jankes and Richardsons as stalwarts of the Tenney scene for many years, so I thought you might enjoy this photo.

Keeping In Touch, Spittoons, and More

This last week I had the pleasure of speaking at the North St. Paul Branch of the Ramsey County Library System, and what fun it was! I was thrilled when some of “my Tenney people” showed up. They seem to pop up everywhere!

The “Hardie girls,” Marsha and Sherry, who grew up in the upper floor of Leonard and Opal Hardie’s Store (formerly the Larson Store, where my mother grew up), were there. It was a pleasure to meet Bill Kath for the first time, the son of Edward Kath and grandson of William and Anna Kath. Bill had sent me a photo several months ago of the little line-up of Tenney baseball players which I posted on this blog. Jack and Amy Richardson’s youngest daughter, Char (Anderson), and her husband came, as did Dar and Betty Lundeen. Betty is the daughter of Tenney-ite Ann Janke. Ann was a contemporary of many of the women I feature in my book. My cousin, Owen Polifka, the son of Tenney tavern owner Clifford Polifka, also attended.

The above photo shows Owen with my parents, Earl and Helen Jo (Larson) Leaf, whom I lovingly refer to as my “groupies” because they are at nearly every TENNEY QUILT book event. After hearing me speak perhaps 25 times, I’m sure my father, a historian and researcher himself, could get up in front of a group and talk about the Tenney Quilt and the audience would never even miss me.

For the benefit of the Tenney people present at the library in North St. Paul this week, I talked a bit about a memory that many Tenney folks have told me about, both in the process of interviewing them for the book, as well as when I have run in to them during various speaking engagements. It amazes me how many people, when reminiscing about Cliff’s Tavern, remember the SMELL! This smell, as they describe it, was a combination of beer, ice cream, and the spittoon that sat just inside the door as one entered the establishment. This smell was a nasal bouquet of sweet-salty-grainy-staleness that has somehow remained in their auditory memory for decades. It must have been very distinctive, given the number of different people who have mentioned it on separate occasions. All a part of the Tenney experience. Does this conjure up any “Cliff’s Place” memories? Do you remember the smell? Tell me more!

Libraries

You may or may not have noticed that the list of libraries that circulate THE TENNEY QUILT has steadily grown over the past several months. I know of 40 libraries, but I’m sure there are others that I just haven’t heard of. I usually do not know when libraries order the book, as they do not order them directly from me. But I do know that just this last month we added several more public libraries, as well as a few more colleges. The most recent public libraries are Montevideo, Kerkhoven, Arden Hills, North St. Paul, Roseville, and Shoreview, all in Minnesota. Minnesota State University at Mankato added it to its Minnesota History section just recently. To see the list of libraries, please scroll down to the bottom of this page to the blue section, where there is an alphabetical list. If your local library does not carry the book, please request it. Libraries do listen to their patrons!

The Famous Photo

I saw something today that I have been wanting to see for quite awhile. I had occasion to be at the Mall of America in Bloomington, MN, and was excited to find the Lake Wobegon Store. As many of you know, Lake Wobegon is Garrison Keillor's fictional Minnesota locale "where the women are strong, the men are good looking, and all of the children are above average." I went to the Lake Wobegon Store to view the photo of Tenney's pint-sized population as it existed in May, 1989.

I wrote about Tenney's "Moment of Fame" earlier this year in this blog. In short, residents of Tenney, because they lived in Minnesota's smallest town, were honored in 1989 by KSTP-TV in Minneapolis. The residents, who easily fit into a limousine, were delivered to the Twin Cities, where they were wined and dined, then appeared on the “Good Company” television show which aired from the Valley Fair Amusement Park in Shakopee. First, the group ate in their own private dining room at the Radisson St. Paul Hotel. They were then given a tour of the Summit Avenue mansions in St. Paul, they stood on the steps of the state capitol, they wandered through the sculpture garden at the Walker Art Center, and then had a ride on the “Josiah Snelling” river boat on the Mississippi River, traveling from Harriet Island to Fort Snelling and back. The Tenney folks saw the Metrodome and toured the Minneapolis lakes area in their limousine.

Governor Perpich declared that day “Tenney Day” in Minnesota, and the group was presented with a plaque to commemorate this declaration. Al and Lou Manthie, Opal Hardie, Al Hungerford, Lorraine Church, Willie Rossow, Marian Harrington and Leo Berg were given quite a bit of air time on the TV show.

This group is memorialized in a photo of the group taken on the steps of the Tenney Church, which now hangs in the Lake Wobegon Store in the Mall of America. I have to admit that I had a bit of a lump in my throat when I saw the photo hanging there on that wall today, pondering, as I have so many times over the last year, the reach of this little town of Tenney where--of course--the women were strong, the men good looking, and the children above average.

Myrtle

I was notified of the death of a person many of you know through your connection to Tenney. I had the good fortune of meeting and greeting Myrtle Kegley Thompson at our wonderful little “Tenney Day” celebration in May of this year, where this photo was taken. In the photo is Myrtle, Doris Janke Wawers, [and my mother's back]. Anyone now living who grew up in or lived in Tenney would know Myrtle. Even though she moved away in the 1950s, she stayed in the general area and apparently didn’t miss too many Tenney get-togethers. While in Tenney, her family lived in a house just across the street from the Tenney School. Thanks, Sherry, for forwarding this obituary to me, which was found in the online version of the FERGUS FALLS DAILY JOURNAL:

“Myrtle Thompson, 73, of Breckenridge, died Tuesday, September 2, 2008, at her home in Breckenridge.

Myrtle was born on April 22, 1935 on a farm north of Nashua, the youngest of nine children born to Newton and Avis (Nendick) Kegley. At the age of five Myrtle moved with her family to Tenney. She attended school in Tenney and later in Campbell. Myrtle loved growing up in Tenney and often spoke of roller skating, dancing and carrying water from the town pump to home while living there.

She did a lot of babysitting during her school years and also worked for other families in the Tenney area. In 1953, she moved to Breckenridge and worked at St. Francis Hospital in the X-ray Department, a job she had fond memories of.

She also worked at the Rex Café in Wahpeton, North Dakota. Myrtle later moved to Fargo and Grand Forks, North Dakota, where she worked at various places as a waitress, and also as a clerk at dime stores and grocery stores.

In 1954, Myrtle married John Sorum in Grand Forks. To this union six children were born, of which two died in infancy. They lived in Grand Forks and later moved to Santiago.

In 1971, they moved to Breckenridge, where Myrtle worked at the Rock Garden Bar and Earl’s Bar for more than eight years.

Myrtle married Richard “Dick” Thompson on September 10, 1975 at Milbank, South Dakota. Myrtle and Dick and their blended family made their home in Breckenridge. Dick preceded her in death on September 17, 1994. Myrtle continued to live in Breckenridge.

Myrtle, always an upbeat person, was willing to lend a helping hand to anyone who needed it. She enjoyed planning family reunions and staying connected with her nieces and nephews. Myrtle wasn’t above pulling a joke on someone but was also big enough to take a joke pulled on her.

She enjoyed playing cards, reading, crocheting, doing picture puzzles and making small quilts for her grandchildren. She always had time for her grandchildren and loved playing board games with them. Myrtle always had the coffee pot on and she truly enjoyed when people would drop in for a cup and conversation.

She was preceded in death by her parents, Newton and Avis Kegley; her husband Richard “Dick” Thompson; her two daughters Kathryn Ann and Carol Rae; her brothers Carl, Earol, Lyle and Kenneth; and her sisters Prudence, Bernice, Harriet and Lois.

Myrtle is survived by her children, Nancy and Rick Froemke, Wahpeton, ND; Paul and Lori Sorum, Breckenridge; Bruce and Robyn Sorum, Horace, ND; Lunda “Punky” Meyer and her special friend, Dean Overby, Wahpeton, ND; her stepchildren, Gene and Gayle Thompson, Breckenridge; Richard and Candice Thompson, Moorhead; Jane and Rex Kulla, Maple Grove; Wanda and Larry Hutchinson, Eagan; 16 grandchildren, Emily, Jason, Amy, Erica, Becky, Kayla, Justin, Christina, Jacob, Jessi, Brittney, Todd, James, Travis, Robby and Jenna; three great-grandchildren, Mady, Payton and Carson; and many nieces and nephews.

Service: United Methodist Church, Breckenridge. Clergy: Rev. Terry Tilton. Burial: Riverside Cemetery, Breckenridge. Funeral Home: Joseph Vertin & Sons, Breckenridge. Condolences may be sent online at www.josephvertinandsons.com."

Tenney's Dray Service

In response to my blog entry about the old Tenney Hotel, I received this photo from Sherry Swan (Al Manthie’s granddaughter). It is an invoice to the Village of Tenney for dray services to various points in town. The invoice is on letterhead from “The Hotel Tenney,” George Vitalis, Proprietor. (To see it more clearly, double click right on the image, and it will enlarge).

Now, for you young ‘uns that may not have heard the term “dray,” let me explain. In this time period in Tenney, a dray was a heavy, four-wheeled wagon pulled by a horse. The wagon would haul goods, often to or from the railway platform, to wherever they needed to be delivered. The dray was generally stored in or worked out of the Livery Stable which was, in most small towns, located somewhere near the railway depot and the hotel. This way, travelers fresh off the train could hire out a horse or later, sometimes an automobile, and goods that arrived on the train could be delivered to their appropriate destination.

In much of the 19th century, it was an unwritten “rule” that all inns and hotels would offer a dray and livery service. Based on this invoice, apparently this was the case with “The Hotel Tenney.” Across the hotel logo on the paper are written the words “Buffet and Livery in Connection.” So the hotel either owned the livery and dray service, or at least had some sort of business arrangement with them.

On this invoice, we see that the dray service was delivering goods primarily to the Town Hall which, in Tenney, is approximately 1 block—or less—from the depot. It cost the Village of Tenney 25 cents to deliver coal, 50 cents to deliver “fixtures” and 75 cents to deliver chairs, all to the Town Hall, as well as one dollar to deliver coal to the school and 25 cents to return a plank to the lumber yard. The total bill for this dray service came to $2.75.

There is no date on this invoice, but I am thinking that it must be in the 1912 or 1913 time frame. Given the nature of the items being delivered to the Town Hall from the railway—chairs and fixtures—I am surmising that this could very well have occurred at the time the Town Hall was being built, which was 1913. How exciting!

The advertising slogan on the letterhead is hilarious and fits in well with the many Tenney stories I have heard through the years: “Nothing First Class But the Price.” Now where, but Tenney, would one see such an advertising slogan!??! Now, I’m being facetious, since it obviously had a different meaning at the Turn of the Century. But if I would use today’s logic to interpret this slogan, the slogan could be translated as, “EVERYTHING HERE IS LOW QUALITY BUT THE PRICE IS REALLY HIGH.” Oh what fun to see these old treasures. Thank you, so much, Sherry, for sharing this!

THE TENNEY HOTEL PIE MAKER

One of the faithful readers of this blog, Jeri Nowak, is the daughter of Fritz and Leona (Kath) Novak. Her mother Leona was the daughter of William and Anna Kath, who lived just a mile outside of Tenney. There were 12 children in the William Kath family. That’s a lot of Kaths (or….as they were known in that time….the KATES)!

Jeri mentioned that her mother’s sister, Esther Kath, one of those 12 children, worked at the old hotel in Tenney at the Turn of the Century, making pies for its patrons. The hotel, which burned to the ground in 1924, served as a matchmaker for Miss Esther and her husband-to-be. At the time Esther was working at the hotel a young gentleman, George Weiss, who had grown up in another community, came to Tenney to visit his parents. His parents were the proprietors of the hotel at the time. That visit provided a spark that lasted a lifetime for Esther and George. Allan Weiss, son of Esther and George, do you have any more to add to this story?

I seem to recall in my research that a man named Vitalis once owned the old Tenney Hotel. The building not only housed the hotel, but also a saloon, barber shop and pool hall. It stood on a street which was, in the very earliest years, the actual “Main Street” of Tenney. That street ran PARALLEL to the railroad tracks and was also the location of the livery stable, an ice house and two grain elevators. It was named "Main Street" because it was the first street in town. As one pictures a street scene from the late 1800s and early 1900s, it makes sense that a hotel would be located just across the street from the train depot, along with a livery stable and ice house. Somewhere I have a photo of my great grandfather, John P. Polifka, standing in front of the livery. When I find it, I will post it to this blog.

In the early 1910s, buildings were built on the street we all now think of as "Main Street" (actually, it is "Concord Avenue"!), which runs perpendictular to the railroad tracks. The businesses on the old Main Street eventually all burned down or disappeared in some fashion, and the new Main Street became the town's main drag. This street eventually boasted the presence of the Town Hall, Fire Hall, Tenney Church and parsonage, Post Office, Larson Store, Wittman Garage, and other Tenney landmarks such as the town pump.

Given that the hotel burned to the ground in 1924, I am doubtful that any readers of this blog would recall the hotel itself, but do you have any Tenney Hotel stories?

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Tenney Things

In the greater scheme of things, it’s not the THINGS that make a difference in our world. But at the same time, sometimes it’s THINGS that serve as reminders of the truly important things. I am a picture-taker and love to make scrapbooks and reminisce about the things that those photos represent. I guess it’s just the story teller in me that makes me enjoys such things.

Do you have Tenney THINGS? Throughout the course of my Tenney adventure, I have heard a few of you talk or write about THINGS that you have from Tenney or that remind you of Tenney. An email from my mother’s cousin, Muriel Lee (Edner) Fagan, whose name appears on the Tenney Quilt, told of a few treasured THINGS that she has which remind her of Tenney and thus, her childhood. One is a velvet dress that she wore, as a toddler, to her aunt Audrey Polifka’s wedding to A.N. Larson in 1930. Another is a postcard she received from her beloved Grandpa John Polifka (my great grandfather) from Chicago’s World Fair in 1933, complete with 1¢ stamp. She also remembers a pencil box that her Grandpa John bought for her, noting that “I’m sure it cannot be as magnificent as I remember.” Both Muriel Lee and my mother have spoon jars from the Tenney Hall. Two doilies handmade by Tenney stalwart Gertie Kapitan are tastefully framed and hang proudly on my mother’s bedroom wall. A painting of a stag that hung on the wall at the bottom stair landing in Grandma Helen’s house in Tenney now hangs on the wall in my parents’ home. And perhaps my mother’s most magnificent Tenney possession is the old organ face from the organ that stood on her Grandma Helen Polifka’s porch—refinished and made into a display shelf for her collection of floe blue dishware.

I spoke of Grandma Helen’s organ in THE TENNEY QUILT, indicating that not much music was produced on that organ once it hit Grandma’s porch. It came from my great great grandma Emma Ready’s farm and was parked on the John and Helen Polifka porch for decades. Though I would prefer to visualize a happy scene on a summer evening with Grandma and Grandpa and the kids and grandchildren gathered around the organ singing “Yankee Doodle,” or perhaps “The Old Rugged Cross,” I am afraid the reality is much less idealistic. From all accounts, the organ was used primarily as a dust collector, bread cooler, and probably a jungle gym for the grandkids. When it was finally relegated to the shed, Grandma Helen, in her thriftiness, broke the darn thing up and used the ivories as markers in her vegetable garden. Thank goodness the organ’s front face was salvaged, eventually to find a place on my mother’s living room wall.

Polifka family lore tells of Grandma Helen selling Grandpa John’s old mail wagon for $10, a sum of money which made Grandma feel as though she had won the lottery. You see, Grandpa John Polifka was Tenney’s first postmaster, the guy who established Tenney’s 26-mile rural mail route and the first rural carrier. What a thrill that would be now to have that mail wagon.

I have a few treasured Tenney possessions myself. My cousin, Neil Polifka, sent me an old baking powder can with a metal cover on it, in which several holes were punched. Al Manthie, as chief keeper of the Town Hall, used this can to shake the sawdust onto the floor in the Town Hall before the dances. Because of that little self-fashioned sawdust applicator, many a foxtrot, waltz, and two-step were made an effortless slide across the Tenney Hall dance floor. I have previously made mention of a war ration book I have from Grandpa A.N.’s store in Tenney, and my mother has several things that were once in the A.N. Larson Store. My sister has an old wooden bench that sat in the store in Tenney for customers to sit down and try on shoes and boots. On the back of the bench was a red circular logo of some sort which my uncles, Andrew and Ralph Larson, used for target practice at least on one occasion, as evidenced by the tiny BB holes.

The one Tenney THING I long for is the big black Bible from the old Tenney Church (shown in photo). This Bible was given to the church in memory of my great great grandmother, Emma (Mrs. John J.) Ready, from her children—my great grandmother Helen (Mrs. John) Polifka, Ray (and Esther) Ready, Vesta (Mrs. Ray) Gore, and Blanche (Mrs. Edgar) Waite. The inscription in the front of the Bible appears on the second photo. It was presented to the church on October 11, 1942, the year that Emma died. As renovations to the former church happen all around it, this Bible still sits on the pulpit, slowly succumbing each year to the wind, dust, snow, rain, humidity, heat, and cold that make their way through the unprotected [former] sanctuary. Surely this treasure will someday either just disappear as so many other Tenney treasures, or it will disintegrate and fall apart from neglect and exposure. How I wish I could change the course of that Bible’s remaining history!

What Tenney things do YOU treasure?

That Zum Mallen House Again

A while back, I posted a photo of a home that was in Tenney at some point, and asked for input from my wonderful Tenney readers to find out if they knew where this house sat in Tenney. Obviously, it is not there anymore, and there were no clues in the photo to determine its location. A gentleman from New Jersey related to the Zum Mallens had sent this photo to me, thinking I may know something about it (I didn’t). It was the home of Christ and Helen Zum Mallen. Helen was a cousin of Annie (Mrs. William) Kath.

After posting the photo on this blog, I heard from Dawayne Novak, saying this Zum Mallen home looked like the one that used to sit on the east side of Tenney, just to the northeast of the Highway 55 gravel road entrance to Tenney. If that is indeed the place, in later years it was the house of Dawayne’s aunt and uncle, Ernest and Verna Jacklitch. Some of you may remember that Ernest and Verna later moved to a home west of the Larson Store and south of the Tenney School.

If any of you Tenney people out there think this may be the home that Ernest and Verna Jacklitch once lived in on the east side of Tenney, please let me know.

Fritz's Accident

A recent story I wrote in this blog about the railroad and its importance in Tenney sparked a few Tenney railroad memories from Jeri Nowak, the daughter of Fritz and Leona (Kath) Novak. Jeri vividly remembers riding with her dad as a young child to the elevator to unload harvested grain, where she remembers seeing Jack O’Laughlin working. Mr. O’Laughlin was a popular, well-respected guy in Tenney, and has been mentioned as a part of many Tenney stories I have heard over the past few years. What are your memories of the O'Laughlins?

A different Tenney train story brings up much less pleasant memories. At Christmas time in 1937, Jeri’s dad Fritz was bringing his sister-in-law and her children home to Tenney after they’d spent the evening at the Novak home in the country. It was snowing. He dropped them off at their home in Tenney and was leaving town to return to his own home. There was a train going through town at the time, so Fritz waited for the train to go by. When he thought it was clear, he proceeded across the tracks.

What Fritz didn’t realize was that the train was actually still there. The snow prevented him from seeing that the part of the train in front of him was a number of empty flatbed cars going by. The train hit Fritz’s car and dragged it about a half-mile before the car detached from the train. Luckily, he had already dropped off his sister-in-law’s family, or they certainly would have been hurt or killed. Fritz, alone in the car, was injured quite seriously, with a broken leg and a major face injury caused by the steering column going through his cheek. Now that’s a train story that would make an impression on a young girl.

In the process of doing research for the Tenney book, I read a LOT of Breckenridge newspapers for the time period of the 1920s and 30s. It seems as though train wrecks or car-train wrecks occurred at an alarming rate during that time period. The crossing in Campbell, in particular, seemed to be the scene of many a wreck. While the railroad was the lifeblood of Tenney and Campbell, it also left many scars.

The 1909 Tenney Cyclone

This past Spring, I had the opportunity to speak at the state Medical Assistant conference. It was a unique speaking engagement. I mean, what does THE TENNEY QUILT have to do with Medical Assistants? Well, as it turned out, it was one of my best events ever in terms of book sales, and it received great reviews. The gist of my presentation was to relate the characteristics of many of my Tenney women to the characteristics that these Medical Assistants needed as part of their jobs and in the process, told the stories of the Tenney women.

Some days after that event a young woman named Holly, who had purchased a book after my presentation, sent me an email and told me an interesting story. She had purchased two books, figuring that her 78-year-old mother would be interested in reading the book. When Holly presented the book to her mother as a gift, her mother thought that the name “Tenney” sounded familiar. A while later that day as Holly was still visiting at her mother’s home and her mother had been paging through the book, Holly heard a gasp. Her mother had just come upon the “Voss” name in THE TENNEY QUILT. She quickly went and rifled through her father’s (Holly’s grandfather’s) postcard collection and returned with two old past cards.

The two postcards contained photos of a debris-strewn Voss farm, both with identical inscriptions: “BUILDINGS ON VOSS FARM WRECKED BY CYCLONE MAY 20, 09. TENNEY, MINNESOTA.” Apparently when Holly’s grandfather was a boy, he collected postcards. That boy’s father (Holly’s great grandfather) traveled the state as did so many young men, working the fields at planting or harvest time or both. He sent postcards to his young son when he was away from home. He had most likely worked at the Voss farm during the 1909 time frame. Holly’s mother had looked through this postcard collection many times, so the names “Voss” and “Tenney” had stuck in her mind. Have any of you heard stories of this storm? There are several members of the Voss family on the quilt and if I remember correctly, some of them lived somewhere between Tenney and Tintah. Or was it Nashua? Members of the Voss family who appear on the Tenney Quilt are Mathilda/Tillie (Kath) Voss, who was the wife of Herman Voss, Tillie's two sons, Harry and Ed Voss, Harry's wife Anna (Ann) and son Delmer.

I thank Holly for sending me images of the postcards, accompanied by this fascinating story. (I was not able to post the photos to his blog due to the format in which the photos were sent to me). I am amazed at the number of people whose lives are connected in some way to Tenney. Even those folks with no apparent connection to Tenney sometimes find a connection, such as Holly did, in a most unusual way!

We All Need A Break Once In Awhile

Pardon my hiatus from writing recently; after a crazy winter and spring season of book events, I enjoyed a few months off but am now ready to ramp up the schedule and hit the road again. With that will come more Tenney connections and more stories and more blog writing.

Not that I have been sitting around painting my toenails all summer….I enjoyed a trip to Hawaii with my husband, daughter and two-year-old granddaughter in June, visiting our son and daughter-in-law who live in Honolulu. We just returned from our annual Grand Marais camping trip. Nearly every weekend in between, we have had a family event of some sort, with lots of visits from our sweet little granddaughter and her mom and dad. Oh – and I work full-time, too.

I was very excited to hear a song on the radio at some point this summer entitled, “I’ll Sleep When I’m Dead.” It sort of captures the essence of my life and my schedule over the past year. Well OK, over the past 52 years. I’ve decided that’s my theme song. Truly, when I get home from work late in the afternoon, there are so many fun things to do that I don’t know where to start. Unfortunately, I also don’t know when to stop. Staying up is way more fun than going to bed.

The break in the book activities over the summer allowed me to reflect on a very satisfying year. When I published THE TENNEY QUILT, I really didn’t know what to expect. I figured I would have no problem selling the book to those who have a direct connection to our little town of Tenney. But beyond that, I really had no clue—though in my humble opinion I felt that the book did indeed have an appeal beyond the confines of Wilkin County. As it turns out, no matter where I go or to whom I speak, people are interested in the stories of Tenney’s early women and their lives.

I’ve done about 25 book signings and speaking events since the book was published last November, from church groups to college groups to women’s groups to libraries to quilt shows. I am aware of about 30 libraries that circulate the book. It is available for sale in several retail outlets as well as online at amazon.com, Barnes and Noble, Borders Books, and a host of other websites. I considered it a victory to get the book in to the Bookstore at the Minnesota History Center in St. Paul, and am now getting some speaking engagements in the Twin Cities and beyond. Later this summer and fall I will be speaking to groups in Minnesota, North Dakota, Nebraska, and Wisconsin. So the circle of interest is widening. Sales have been good, but books aren’t flying off the shelves like they were in the beginning, and I’m definitely not getting rich. I keep putting gas in the car, I speak at no charge, and can’t resist the temptation to give books away now and then. But whenever I get a chance to show people the Tenney Quilt, tell its story, and talk about the women who made it, people are interested. They love the story, and they think about their own mothers and grandmothers and the small towns where they grew up. And they buy books. What fun it has been!

While it is a kick to take the Tenney Quilt on the road and talk about it to anybody who will listen, by far the best part of this whole experience has been the connections I have made with people who have a soft spot in their hearts for the little town of Tenney. People tell me that the book brought back so many memories—a treasured childhood, a cherished grandmother, a simpler place. Roller skating in the Town Hall. Hearing the sound of the train whistle on a hot summer night. Getting a drink of water at the town pump. Buying a penny gumball out of the machine at the Larson Store. Bringing the cream to town.

And at many of the book events, I have seen people with a common past making connections with each other. The Tenney Gathering on May 10 still defies words for me. Yes, the weather was miserable and yes, the old Tenney Church was not exactly the Holiday Inn Conference Center. There was more nose-dripping than at a pre-school sledding party. But I still get such a warm feeling when I think of the looks, the conversations, and the embraces that I witnessed that day. In Elaine (Manthie) Streyffeler’s words, “I still get shivers thinking of that day in the old Tenney Church…all the people that I hadn’t seen for years….” To think that the words that I chose to put on the pages of that book brought people together that hadn’t seen each other for years…and talked about things that were so pleasurable to them…wow, I wonder if the wonder of that day will ever diminish for me.

I want to thank those of you who have told me stories about picking up the telephone and calling your cousin in another part of the country and saying, “You gotta read this book!” Or telling me about a guy who hardly EVER sits down a reads a book, but who sat down and read THE TENNEY QUILT from cover to cover, and then couldn’t stop talking about it. Or telling me about reading the book to an elderly friend or family member and trying to describe to me their words or the look on their faces as they listened. Can you imagine how good that makes me feel?

So……..it’s been a good year. This time last year I was putting the finishing touches on the book and getting things all set up with the publisher, sweating bullets about getting the darn thing published prior to the Christmas season. A lot has happened, and THE TENNEY QUILT has had an effect on an awful lot of people. Thank you for letting me transport you to a place that was good to think about for awhile.

In my next blog entry, I’ll talk about a few of the Tenney stories I’ve received from my readers over the course of the last several months.

The Depot Agent

Do you know this guy (on the right)? Matt Kapitan was the depot agent in Tenney, sometimes called the “Soo Agent,” from 1910 to 1939. Matt was married to Gertie, a local Tenney girl who is featured in THE TENNEY QUILT. So many of you knew Gertie, but perhaps not her husband, Matt, since he passed away in 1947. I had never seen a photo of Matt at the depot until his daughter, Adeline, provided me with this one a few months ago. I love the uniform; something about a guy dressing up in full uniform and hat, and walking from his sleeping quarters to his working quarters in the same building in the little town of Tenney tickles me. But it also shows the pride and seriousness in which Matt approached his position.

Matt was not a Tenney native, though his and Gertie’s family was certainly one of those Tenney families that anyone living today would think of as being there for their entire memory. Born in 1877 in northeastern Kansas, 32-year-old Matt landed in Tenney in 1909 after attending telegraph school in Wisconsin. He came by himself, and lived in the depot. It wasn’t long before Matt made note of a beautiful young 18-year-old woman, Gertie Reinhard, a school teacher who taught in a small school north of Breckenridge, but came home to Tenney frequently [by horse and buggy, I might add]. Despite a 15-year age difference, Matt and Gertie married in 1912 in the Reinhard farm house, with my grandfather, A.N. Larson, serving as Matt’s best man.

Tenney has always been, and still is, a railroad town. Its very existence is owed to the railroad and today, if not for the tax-paying Wheaton-Dumont elevator facility, Tenney certainly would not be a formal municipality. Though there were settlers in the area prior to the railroad’s arrival, including my own ancestors, the railroad reached Tenney in 1885. The town itself, incorporated in 1902, was named after John Paige Tenney, a lumber company executive in the Twin Cities, who owned the town site and gave right-of-way to the railroad. The main line of the Soo Line Railroad entered the county from the east, with the first Wilkin County stop being Nashua. It then continued to Tenney, then out of the county and into Fairmount, North Dakota. For many, many years, the railroad was the lifeblood of Tenney, carrying its freight, livestock, provisions, mail, and people in and out of the area. Today, the railroad still represents the weakening heartbeat of Tenney.

Tenney was on the Soo Line, but the Soo was not the first railroad in Wilkin County. The first pieces of railroad track in the county were those of the Great Northern, in 1870 (then called the “Minnesota and Pacific”) in Campbell. In a two-year period of time between 1870 and 1872, Campbell was the site of an encampment of railroad workers. Stories of this encampment bring to mind the gold rush days of Colorado and points beyond. Tents of various sizes, shapes, and colors provided sleeping quarters for the laborers, often with campfires burning in front of many tents in the evening. Larger tents were used for the mess hall and for shelter for the horses and mules. Large piles of harnesses could be found piled up outside the horse tents.

The encampment, with very little to show in the area of organization, was nestled in the long, wavy grass alongside the Rabbit River, tents spread willy nilly, here and there. It housed nearly 200 men of multiple nationalities speaking many different languages. During this time, Campbell sometimes took on a testosterone-induced, raucous nature, particularly on pay day when the railroad workers had cash for drinking, womanizing, and gambling, topped off with more than a few fist fights. I noted in the Campbell History book that card sharks, whiskey vendors and dice wielders made their way to town on pay day and things got pretty wild.

After two years, the group moved on as the railroad moved on to Doran and then Breckenridge. The trip by rail, fueled by wood-burning engine from St. Paul to Breckenridge, took anywhere from one to two days in the beginning. At times the railroad would be shut down for as long as two or three weeks due to high water or a heavy winter snowstorm.

Many of you familiar with the Tenney area know the very unique site close to Tenney where the north-south and the east-west railroads cross, as well as highways east-west 55 and north-south 9 crossing at the same location. This site has been the cause of many accidents—rail and auto—through the years and is still a bit freaky to me every time I drive through that intersection.

Anyway, back to Matt. He and Gertie raised their family in the railroad depot for many years, until just prior to the birth of their daughter, Adeline. Their children were, in this order, Everett, Warren, Arnold, Gordon, Douglas, Russell, Adeline, and Lowell. Though you would have to be at least 61 years old to personally remember Matt, if you did remember him you would remember a gentle, soft-spoken man; a conscientious, steady worker, a guy very well-liked in Tenney. The account of his marriage in the newspaper referred to Matt as “the obliging and pleasing Soo agent at Tenney.” He was also quite hard of hearing. His wife and children were his pride and joy. According to grandson Kent, Matt was initially unable to pronounce the name of his only daughter, Adeline, so she became “La La.” Matt loved to garden, was a friend to many, and he was truly dedicated to his job. Even though the Kapitans did not have much, they had a very happy and satisfying life in Tenney. Adeline told me that Matt only took one vacation in his life, and that was a train trip with his son Arnold to Kansas to visit his family. Matt’s hearing deficit eventually caused him to have to retire earlier than he otherwise would have. He died in 1947 at the age of 70.

For those of you that arrived on the Tenney scene after 1947, you probably recall Blanche Byrne or Joe Doyle as Tenney’s depot agent. Memories of Tenney’s railroad----standing on the platform waiting for a relative to step off the train; running from the schoolyard to help unload freight in hopes of getting a nickel from storekeeper A.N.Larson; hearing the tap-tap-tap-click-click-click of the telegraph in the depot agent's office; accompanying a cattle shipment to the South St. Paul stockyards; getting a letter written quickly so that it would be ready for the 7 p.m. train to Breckenridge—all of these things were common occurrences in Tenney in the early years. If you have any Tenney railroad stories, please share them with me.

Birthday Book

I came upon some little treasures that I have been studying in detail since my mother handed them to me a month or two ago. They are the “birthday books” that belonged to my grandmother, Audrey Polifka Larson, and her sister, my great aunt, LaVanche Polifka Solvie Gill. Perhaps you or your mother or grandmother had such a book. These little books are about 3” x 4”, sometimes made of leather or faux leather, bound just as a larger book.

Birthday books were very popular at the beginning of the 20th century. On the cover of the three books that belonged to LaVanche and Audrey were the titles, “The Girls Birthday Book,” “My Friend Birthday Book,” and “Favorite Poets Birthday Book.” The books are divided into the months of the year, with a small space after each day of each month, in which friends, relatives, and dinner or house guests would sign their name and in most cases, the year they were born. Very often notes and dates were written in at some point afterward indicating perhaps a death date, or a married name added to a girl who was single at the time she signed. In many cases, the date that the person signed the book was also recorded.

At the beginning of each month there is often a poem by a famous poet, with proverbs, poems, or Bible verses scattered throughout the book. I love the little proverbs for which that era famous, whether those little sayings greeted the children as they came into the school room each day, or they found their way to the pages of these little birthday books. Here are a few examples:
· People who talk much say nothing.
· Let not your tongue cut your throat.
· Dry bread at home is better than roast meat abroad.
· A man without reason is out of season.
· The secret of success is constancy of purpose.
· A place for everything, and everything in its place.
· Little brooks make great rivers.
· Business may be troublesome, but idleness is pernicious.
· Muddles at home make husbands roam.
· One lie begets another.
· Four things that never return: the spoken word, the sped arrow, the past life, and the neglected opportunity.
· An old fox is not caught in a trap.
· There is great distance between “said” and “done.”
· Glasses and lasses are brittle ware.
· Birds are entangled by their feet, women by their tongues :-)

I can remember very clearly these little books sitting in prominent places in both my grandmother’s and great aunt’s homes. In fact I, myself, signed these books in the January 27 spot. I had forgotten that, at some point in my teenage years, in loopy teenager handwriting, I had entered the name of my beloved big fat gray cat, “Benjamin Figaro Leaf (1972)” in the appropriate spot – April 20. I had later entered “77,” indicating the year that Benjamin went to kitty heaven. I can imagine my sweet Grandma Aud looking over my shoulder, or perhaps leafing through the book later, with an amused grin on her face realizing I had entered the family pet into her treasured birthday book. Grandma was no fan of pets of any sort, but as special as we were to her [and her to us], I know she didn’t mind and, in fact, probably got a charge out of it.

Though I don’t remember anything about the contents, I remember leafing through these little books as I grew up, looking for familiar names as only a person with my fixation on names and dates would enjoy. The fact that in LaVanche’s birthday book are also listed important family facts and dates, attests to the importance of her little birthday book. For example, she lists the names of her great grandparents, Anna and John Polifka (born in 1816 and 1809), the date they were married, and that the “came to America from River Rhine, Germany.” It is the type of information that one writes in important places, similar to what you might see in a Bible. Grandma Aud’s book lists, in the front, in her handwriting, her travels and the year she took those travels. She mentions a trip to Oregon in 1945 (no doubt to visit her sister, Myrtle), Montana in 1967, East Coast in 1971 (with our family; I remember it so well), a Ready reunion in Montana in 1979, etc. Clearly these birthday books were treasured by both of them.

What a thrill, now, to leaf through these books and see the handwritten signatures of so many of the people who I have gotten to know so well in the process of writing THE TENNEY QUILT. Mrs. Parks (Elizabeth), whom I learned was the “postmistress” of Tenney for a period of time, signed LaVanche’s book in beautiful writing, citing her birth year of 1864. Gertie Kapitan, one of my favorite Tenney women, though I never knew her personally, signed the book, as did several of the other women I highlighted in THE TENNEY QUILT: Linna Gordhamer, Marie Hadwick, Nellie Dalgarno Dopp, and others. I saw for, the first time in my memory, the signatures of my great grandparents, Helen and John P. Polifka. There is something about knowing that they had a pen in their hand and wrote the actual signatures that are in these books that is special to me. Yes, I am a sentimental, sappy fool, but what came to mind as I read these signatures, was a mental image of Lydia Kath running her fingers over the contours of the Tenney Quilt a month or so ago in Tenney, touching the embroidered signatures of her husband and other loved ones as she focused so intently. Such things have a way of transporting a person to another place and time.

I saw the Tenney names that have become so familiar; there were Jankes and Kuentzels. There were Waites and Hiatts and Gores and O’Laughlins. Who would have thought that seeing the name Ethel Roach would be such a kick? And there was Harry Pithey and Lois Wittman, who signed the book as a young, single woman, just as she was when she signed the Tenney Quilt. Jennie Waite, who appeared front and center on my favorite Tenney photo, appears, with her birth year, 1856, next to her signature. Myrtle Janke and Jack Richardson and Madge Dawson signed the birthday book. Jeanette Iler, my mother’s childhood friend, appears on the May 13th spot, along with Tenney farmer John (Jack) Glock. Lillie Scott, with 1878 next to her name, lived in the Tenney Church parsonage for a time, and signed Audrey’s birthday book, along with her twin offspring, Percy and Elsie. There are Vosses and Pitheys and Dopps.

What a treasure! I feel as though I know these people. Tenney has become very real throughout the process of writing the book and, even more so, through meeting and talking with so many of you who, like me, have a fond connection to Tenney. Keep in touch, and keep sharing those Tenney stories with me. I love to hear them.

Thanks for Coming!

Several of you have asked for a listing of those who attended our wonderful Tenney Get-Together a few weeks ago on May 10. Not everyone signed in, unfortunately, so I know that some names are missing. Also, I apologize in advance for any misspellings; some of the names in the guestbook were difficult to read.

Ahlsten, Douglas & Gail, Brian
Barnes, Jodi (Tracy)
Beadle, Rose Marie (Riess)
Bolin, Judy (Stumpf)
Brown, Judy (Bertsch)
Campbell, Gail (Roach, Kegley) & Katelyn
Cashman, Marilyn
Church, Lorraine
Cooper, Albert & Karen (Kath)
Earl, Mike & Melissa
Fenske, Diane (Roach)
Fischer, T.J.
Glasby, Shalette and Skylar Wehri
Glock, Charlie
Grant, Sherry (Hardie)
Guenther, Lori
Guenther, Oscar, Ashley & Gus
Guenther, Ray & Ann
Gunderson, Celene (Tracy)
Holtan, Barbara (Kapitan)
Janke, Rosemary
Juelich, Clarence
Kapitan, Claudia
Kapitan, Jim
Kapitan, Kent
Karch, Sara & Raea
Karlgaard, Mildred (Sprove)
Kath, Larry & Karen
Kath, Lydia (Mrs. Richard)
Kath, Pamela
Kowalzek, Echo (Andersen)
Krosch, Eldon
Kutzer, Clarence & Darlene (Thiel)
Kutzer, Linda
Lattimore, Candi (Clausen)
Lawrensy, Denise (Younger)
Leaf, Earl & Helen Jo (Larson)
Leaf, Jonathan & Cindy family
Lundeen, Dar & Betty (Janke)
Lyngaas, Mary
Manthie, Duane
McLaughlin, Mary Jean (Shaffer)
Nater, Marsha (Hardie)
Nisja, Beverly
Northridge, Benjamin
Northridge, Jared
Olen, Delores (Durner)
Olness, Carol
Paschko, Art
Polifka, Owen
Richer, Jane & Jill
Riess, Joyce (Durner)
Schroeder, Marilyn
Schwinn, Jean (Andersen)
Scott, Mr. & Mrs. Jim
Shafer, Sheila, Devin & Lexi
Streyffeler, Elaine (Manthie)
Swan, Dale & Sherry
Thompson, Myrtle (Kegley)
Tighe, Ben & Angie family
Tracy, Lois (Wittman)
Van Hovel, Troy & Annette
Wahl, Butch & Helen
Younger, Eileen (Funkhouser)

A Day To Remember

It is hard to know how to even begin to describe how it felt to be in Tenney last weekend (Saturday, May 10) for our “Tenney Gathering.” The weather could not have been more dreadful—high 30s and low 40s, driving rain, sleet, and wind. IN THE MONTH OF MAY, for heaven's sake!! My vision of a crowd of people sitting on lawn chairs on a sun-drenched spring day, or wandering along Tenney’s streets, wrestling up memories—well, that didn’t exactly happen. So—who would have thought that over 100 people would drive to Tenney on such a day, navigate the muddy, soggy streets, jump over one final moat to get to the church steps, then sit or stand and visit in an unheated old church—just to talk about Tenney’s days of old and the people that lived them?

Red, runny noses and frequent shivers notwithstanding, it was very clear from the smiles, the hugs, the clasp of hands that had not touched for years, that this was a good day. A good day in Tenney. The family names represented that day, names such as Kath, Durner, Scott, Waite, Polifka, Riess, Richardson, Janke, Roach, Wittman, Manthie, and many others, became so familiar to me as I did my research for THE TENNEY QUILT. All of these names are represented on the quilt, which was on display that day, with many descendents visibly moved by the sight of their mothers’, fathers’, and grandparents’ names. Though the quilt, at age 80, should not be handled, it was easy for me to allow these folks to touch the name of their relative, as if to hold that person in their hands for but a moment. I imagined it to be similar to the experience of standing before the Viet Nam Memorial in Washington DC, running one’s finger over the engraved name of a loved one.

The image you see in the above photo is one that I will never forget for as long as I live. This woman is Lydia Kath, who was married to Richard Kath and lived in the Tenney area. Lydia is 101 years old, and will turn 102 in July. At the time that her name was placed onto the quilt, she was a young woman of 21. Lydia and her nieces were the only people to show up in Alexandria, Minnesota, a month or two ago for a book signing that had been, unbeknownst to them, postponed due to a blizzard. Lydia had been determined to see the quilt, to meet me, and came 92 miles one direction in weather that kept most others, including me—the author!—home. That’s how much the Tenney Quilt meant to her.

I didn’t dare hope that Lydia would show up in Tenney last weekend, but I should have known she would. If a blizzard couldn’t keep her away, I suppose a little freezing rain and wind wouldn’t either. I brought Lydia’s spry little self, with the double-pierced ears, the red dyed hair, and the stylish warm-up suit, up to the front of the church where the quilt was displayed. I asked her if she would like to see her name on the quilt. She did, of course, so I showed it to her.

Next to Lydia’s own embroidered name was her husband Richard’s name, as well as other relatives, long since departed. Lydia studied it so very closely. She ran her hands through the soft contours of the quilt and her fingers over the stitches that spelled out her name and others. She was so lost in the experience that I know I could have done cartwheels down the church aisle or sung the national anthem at the top of my lungs and Lydia would not have noticed. I know at that moment that the Tenney Quilt had become a magic carpet for Lydia, transporting her to a time in Tenney long ago. The photo shows, to some degree, the intensity of her thoughts, but being right there to witness it was, as I previously mentioned, something I will never forget.

There are only about 10 people alive whose names appear on the quilt. Three of them were in Tenney last Saturday. Besides Lydia, the other two are Lois (Wittman) Tracy (to the left), who appears on the quilt as three-year-old “Lois Christine Wittman;” and Doris (Janke) Wawers (below), who appears on the quilt as “Doris LaVerne Janke,” and was just a baby the year the quilt was made. To meet, for the first time, these three women whose names I have seen so many times as I have studied the quilt, was touching beyond words.

Thanks to the current residents of Tenney for getting the church ready and for hosting this event. Special thanks also to Sherry Swan (Al Manthie’s granddaughter) for bringing lots of old Tenney records, photos and memorabilia, for all the folks who brought treats, and really, to everyone who came. Any personal benefit I have received from writing THE TENNEY QUILT has been outweighed a hundred times by the joy that I hear in people’s voices as they explain to me what the book has meant to them, or the joy in their faces as I see them connect with other people who share a common bond—a tiny little town called Tenney.

Andrew

The photo at the left shows a basketball team of five young Tenney boys—four of whom would experience an event a few years later that would change their lives forever. These guys are, from left to right, Orval Wittman, Ralph Larson, Andrew Larson, Paul Roser, and one of the Kapitan boys (Warren, I think?).

My uncles, Andrew and Ralph Larson, like their father, A.N. Larson (who ran the Larson Store in Tenney), were avid hunters and fishermen from a young age, as were many young men in Tenney, and eagerly looked forward to the fall pheasant hunting season each year. In October of 1931, pheasant hunting was on the minds of the first four young men you see lined up in this photo—Orval, Ralph, Andrew, and Paul. The boys were all 16 or 17 years old. One can imagine the male adolescent chatter flying throughout the vehicle as this foursome was embarking on a late afternoon/evening of hunting with their buddies. Ralph and Andrew were in the front seat, with Ralph, age 16, driving. Orval and Paul were in the backseat; Orval behind Ralph, and Paul behind Andrew.

At 3:00 in the afternoon, in their travel toward a hunting destination just south of Wheaton, the boys spotted some pheasants by the side of the road. Ralph pulled over and, in the excitement and commotion of the moment as they were preparing to hop out of the car, Paul’s loaded gun accidentally discharged from the back seat, firing through the passenger-side car seat and hitting Andrew in the back, just above the hip.

17-year-old Andrew died that night at 11:00.

During the time between the accident and his death, Andrew was awake and was talking about his disappointment that, due to this injury, he would be unable to play basketball that winter for the North Dakota State School of Science (Wahpeton) basketball team. You can see from the above photo that Andrew was long and lean and even at a young age had a basketball in his hand. He was apparently a gifted athlete and was a starter on his Elbow Lake High School basketball team.

Andrew’s death at age 17 is tragic, and the effect on his family and community magnified by the death of his young mother only two years prior. My grandfather A.N., Andrew’s father, had to feel like a beaten man. As I mention in my book, A.N. was a compassionate man and a man of principle. Shortly after Andrew’s death, A.N. went to Paul Roser, the young man whose gun had accidentally discharged, put his arm around Paul’s shoulder, and assured him that this was an accident, that he was forgiven, and there was no malice toward him. A.N. and Paul remained friends for the remainder of their lives, and Paul Roser served as a pall bearer at Grandpa A.N.’s funeral 36 years later.

I am struck by the innocence of this photo—five young boys just being small town boys, yet full of promise and hope, as are all young children. Andrew’s face reflects a confident but gentle boy who could probably have had the world by the tail had he been given the opportunity. His striking resemblance to my mother [his half-sister] is compelling to me. Who could anticipate, in looking at this photo, the events in Andrew's life that would take away the innocence and promise of his young life? In a few short years, Andrew at age 15 would experience the extended illness and loss of his mother, and then lose his own life a mere two years later.

I am tempted to focus on what could have been and an unfinished life when I look into Andrew’s face. Instead, I wrestle myself into focusing on a 17-year life full of friends and school and family and hunting and the simple joys of living in the only town he ever really knew—the little town of Tenney, Minnesota.

Tenney Gathering - Time Confirmed

I mentioned in the previous post that I would let you know for sure when the times were confirmed for our Tenney gathering on Saturday, May 10. The times will be noon to 4:00 p.m., with Tenney stories and excerpts from THE TENNEY QUILT at 2:00.

I've heard from several of you already that you are going to try to get there - if you do know for sure, let me know. There's no way of knowing how many will come, but to a limited extent it will at least help us guess.

Hope to see you there - can't wait!

MARK THIS DATE ON YOUR CALENDAR

On Saturday, May 10, we are planning a get-together in Tenney. Though I was invited to come to Tenney to do a book signing on that day—and I will indeed be doing that—I want to expand it slightly and invite all of you to take a beautiful spring drive to Tenney that day. It is my hope that many of you who have some connection to or interest in Tenney will simply come and visit with me and with each other. There will be coffee, goodies, maybe a door prize or two, and yes—even a porta pottie. The actual Tenney Quilt will be on display so that you can find your people among the 530 separate people whose names appear on the quilt. I will be set up on the street outside the Tenney Church. How many places can you set up a table on the street and not get run over?

The time is not yet set in stone, but until you hear differently (I’ll let you know through this blog), we’ll plan on noon to about 4:00 p.m. I’d like to have some Tenney story telling at 2:00, with some excerpts from THE TENNEY QUILT, as well as any other reminiscences by any of you who have something to share. Other than that, this will simply be a time to visit. Come when you can; leave when you feel like it.

Yes, Tenney has changed. Some of you may find it desolate or depressing. But just as with our own homes, when we go “home,” we go to our families and our people, not necessarily the boards and bricks that made up the home in which we grew up. Most of the boards and bricks of Tenney are gone. But that shouldn’t stop us from coming together to reconnect with the people, the stories, the memories.

I will have a message board there that day, with messages from those who are unable to come. If you would like to put a message on that board, I encourage you to send it to me, either by e-mail (tenneyquilt@yahoo.com), or to 2007 Prairie Lane SW, Willmar, MN 56201. Be sure to include your name and how you are connected to Tenney.

May 10 is the Saturday of Mothers’ Day weekend. How fitting, especially for those of you that are familiar with THE TENNEY QUILT, that we all get together during a weekend that celebrates our mothers and the women who came before us.

I hope to see a great turn-out that day, and please spread the word. This event will be held RAIN OR SHINE.

Echo and Jean

The photo at the left is my favorite Tenney photo of all time, and it appears in my book, THE TENNEY QUILT. I gave a framed copy of this photo to my mother this past Christmas and it proudly hangs on her bedroom wall between two framed doilies made by Gertie Kapitan, a Tenney woman well-known by anyone who lived in Tenney prior to the 1950s. The women are lined up in the town hall in front of the stage. These 1920s-era women are wonderful in their ordinariness—a line-up of women of all shapes and sizes that took care of the families, their church, their neighbors, and the little community of Tenney for many years and whose spirit I tried to capture in THE TENNEY QUILT. I don’t know them all, but front and center, third from the left, is a most delightful image of little Jennie Waite. She’s the one with a dark hat, “granny glasses,” misbehaved hair, and the telling hands—tanned, leathered—of a farm wife who spent hours in the garden and in Jennie’s case, hunting mushrooms out in the grove.

Lately I have had the opportunity to do many book talks and book signings, and was in Little Falls (MN) this week to speak to the Prairie Point Quilters group. I was absolutely thrilled when two women walked up to me as I was getting set up and told me they were the granddaughters of Jennie Waite: Echo [Andersen] Kowalzek and Jean [Andersen] Schwinn. I recognized their names, as they were both book customers, and I had quoted some stories from Jean’s family history book in my own book. It was such a pleasure to meet these sharp, spry women of ages 84 and 81, and witness their joy in seeing Grandma Jennie Waite’s name on the quilt. I snapped a photo of them by the quilt (seen here--Echo's on the left, Jean on the right), and if you click on the photo and look closely you can see Jennie’s embroidered name.

Though the sisters grew up in the St. Cloud area, they visited Tenney often as children and Echo told me the story of the time during her youth when she came and stayed for the entire summer at her grandparents’ farm, and hung out with Lois Wittman and Adeline Kapitan, and even played with my mother, who was a few years younger. They both told of their affection for the little town of Tenney, and shared many Tenney memories with me.

Grandma Jennie was born in Wisconsin and left home at age 12 to work for the Dexter Cross family, taking care of the children. In 1878, she traveled with the Billy Cross family to the Tenney area and worked for them for three years until she married Thomas B. (“T.B.”) Waite in 1881. While working for the Cross family, she owned one set of clothes. She would have to get in bed when they were being washed.

According to Jean Schwinn’s family history book, Jennie was called on many times to help care for neighbors and family members—she delivered babies (even nursed a neighbor’s child at the same time as one of her own!), cared for new mothers until they were on their feet again, prepared bodies of the recently departed to be “laid out,” and made beautiful knitted lace. T.B. and Jennie had seven children—Mayme, Earl, Carrie, Bessie, Florence, Rodger and Margaret, and they were very “hard up,” as such condition was expressed in those days. When T.B. died, the farm was rented out. Jennie had to borrow money to cover family debts. She borrowed $2,000 from a neighbor and signed over the farm as collateral. The lender said, “Don’t worry, Jennie, I’ll never foreclose,” but he did. She lost the 400-acre farm.

Jennie and her son Rodger rented various places, eventually landing in Tenney in a house next to the parsonage. After Rodger died, Jennie lived alone there until age 89, in 1947. She is buried in the Pleasant Hill Cemetery in rural Tenney, where I have visited her and others frequently. If there is ever a second Tenney book, Jennie will certainly be featured as one of the pioneer women.

Do You Know This House?

I recently heard from a gentleman who lives in Parsippany, New Jersey, and whose grandmother was born in Tenney at the Turn of the Century. Those emails are such a treat to receive--I have been shown again and again how far Tenney's reach extends! He sent me this photo, which he believes to be his great grandparents, Christof (Christ) and Helen (nee Kath) Zum Mallen, standing in front of their home in Tenney sometime in the 1902 to 1910 time frame. Their daughter, Malinda Zum Mallen, was born in Tenney in 1906 and she is this person's grandmother.

Can anybody who is familiar with some of the older buildings in Tenney identify this house? Obviously, it doesn't exist anymore, but given its size, it just seems that somebody might be able to identify it. The surrounding landscape is not clear, other than being quite sparse, so does not provide any clues.

Please keep sending me old-time photos of your Tenney people and Tenney places, as well as your Tenney stories. Email me at tenneyquilt@yahoo.com if you prefer to communicate that way. I love to hear from you.

Fire!

Tenney’s fire hall is cute. Just plain cute. Don't you agree? I would have to say, however, that each passing year requires a bit more imagination to see its "cuteness." It has such a wonderful history and, unfortunately, the city budget has not allowed its upkeep. Each time I cruise through Tenney I ponder this little building, its history, and wonder if it will be rescued before it suffers the same fate as most of Tenney’s other buildings. It always saddens me to see the door standing wide open to the elements and the building in a general state of disrepair and neglect; the same reaction I have to the church and other town buildings.

The fire hall once housed two hand-drawn fire engines. When I think now about how difficult it is to control a fire even with our modern firefighting equipment, I cannot help but imagine that in many cases the arrival of Tenney's hand-drawn fire engine to a fire scene probably served simply to make a larger audience to watch the fire. Then again, with a town the size of two city blocks, I'm sure there are many stories of these two trusty fire engines and their accompanying firefighters who arrived on the scene in time to save building, life, and limb.

I have also included photos of the Tenney fire engine and the hose cart on this page. The fire engine looks rather proud, sitting all shined up in the Traverse County Historical Society in Wheaton. The photo to the left is Engine Number One, purchased in early 1900. Engine Number Two was purchased in 1913. Each of the two fire engines consisted of a chemical engine on two wheels, which could be pulled by 6 to 10 people. According to the Wilkin County History book, each fire engine had “a large curbed well with a double stroked pump” which furnished several gallons of water per minute. The pump had handles on each side and, similar to the mechanism of the hand cars which the section men used on the railroad, four people on each side would operate the pump. A more “modern” chemical fire engine was purchased in 1916, though still hand-powered. The hose cart (pictured below) carried 200 feet of 3-inch hose. The hose cart is also displayed at the Traverse County Historical Society. The second fire engine apparently, and unfortunately, disappeared with one of the town’s residents upon his departure.

The fire hall was tended, in 1913 and 1914, by Village Marshall Henry Bendt, who also managed the hotel for a time. Henry was expected to tend the fire in the engine house, make sure the fire engines were in working order, and keep the fire hall and well area free of snow in the winter. In the years since, long-time Tenney resident Al Manthie, related through marriage to the Bendts, took care of the fire hall. The building is owned by the Village of Tenney.

The Tenney Fire Hall was added to the National Register of Historic Places in 1980. It’s “period of significance,” according to the National Register’s website, was 1900 to 1924, the last year being the year the well went dry. One has to chuckle at the labeling of the fire hall as both a fire hall and a “correctional facility"; the rear of the 14 x 26 building housed the village’s jail in the early years.

The town pump stood for many years near the front of the fire hall building but is no longer functional. The town pump seems, to me, to be just as much of an icon of the Tenney that once was, as the school or the fire hall or the church. Just think of the water drawn from that pump throughout the years, the people that gathered around it to talk of Tenney things, and the sustenance it provided for so many people for so many years!

If reading about the Tenney Fire Hall has stirred up any Tenney fire stories, please post them or send me an email. Hope to hear from you!

Can I Borrow a Cup of Sugar?

Jeri Novak, daughter of Fritz and Leona [Kath] Novak, shared with me the story of my grandfather, A.N. Larson’s, generosity in providing for her family during the WWII years. Jeri was born in 1943, during the Second World War, a time when food rationing was in effect. At that time, prior to the production of canned, and eventually, powdered, baby formula, Karo syrup was mixed with milk to make baby formula. The amount of Karo syrup allotted to each family did not carry the Novak family through until the next month, so A.N. would hide a few bottles of Karo and earmark it for Jeri’s mother. Jeri informed me she still had the book of food war ration stamps that her mother used for food at the A.N. Larson Store.

The photo above is also a ration book for the Larson Store, given to me by my cousin, Neil Polifka. Upon looking closely, it has the name of A. Manthie, which I initially assumed was Al Manthie, a gentleman I have previously written about in this blog, and who was certainly known to all who ever lived in or around Tenney. However, Al's granddaughter Sherry, upon closer examination of the photo, noticed that the age of this "A. Manthie" person is 67, meaning it would be Al's mother, Amalie Manthie.

The food rationing program was set in motion during the spring of 1942 during World War II. Fortunately for our Tenney folks and others, it prevented a situation in which only the wealthy would be able to purchase commodities. Sugar rationing began a year later, in 1943. Families had to register in order to receive coupon books, after which the coupon books were distributed based on family size. A specific amount of particular food items was allowed to be purchased with these coupon books of stamps. Ration stamps became, for all practical purposes, the currency of the time.

“Blue stamp rationing” covered canned, bottled, and frozen fruits and vegetables, juices, and dry beans. “Red stamp rationing” covered meats, butter, fat, oils, and cheese. No food was wasted, and often people’s gardening and home butchering got them through the month until the next coupon books became available. A coffee drinker had to make a pound of coffee last five weeks—what a nightmare that would be for today’s Starbucks-oriented coffee guzzlers.

Food rationing lasted until November, 1945; a milestone that certainly must have been celebrated with great gusto. Additionally, it served as a means of developing the frugal habits of many of that generation throughout the remainder of their lives. How many of us can recall (or still experience) our parents or grandparents, who lived through the rationing years, carefully preserving, stretching, recycling, substituting, or reusing any number of food or non-food items. With a smile on my face, I remember my paternal grandmother opening her gifts so slowly and carefully, so as to not destroy the wrapping paper, that we "spectators" would all be on the verge of unconsciousness by the time she got the darn thing unwrapped. This would be followed by a slow, methodical, careful folding of the wrapping paper so that it could be reused for her own package-wrapping needs.

My own wasteful generation—myself included—could learn a few things by repeating a phrase often spoken during those war ration years: “Substitute or do without, and pray for the end of the war.”

More Libraries

I have recently learned that we can add to the list of libraries where you can find THE TENNEY QUILT. They are:

• Ada (MN)
• Concordia College, Moorhead (MN)
• Fargo (ND)
• Leach Public Library, Wahpeton (ND)
• Moorhead (MN)
• Ortonville (MN)
• Willmar (MN)

Check out the list on the bottom of this page (by the book signing events) to get a complete listing of libraries where you can find the book. I will update it as libraries are added.

Hunting Party

I mentioned in my previous post that hunting, fishing, and trapping were common leisurely pursuits by Tenney folks. Just today I came upon this photo of a hunting party of Tenney men. I don't know when it was taken, but somebody could probably tell by the age of the vehicle. I am guessing it was sometime in the late 1930s. The men in the photo are (left to right) Louie Wittman, Pat Murphy, Arthur Kath, and John Polifka.

Louie Wittman had a garage/machine repair garage in Tenney, located just north of the Larson (later Hardie) store. He lived with his wife Minnie and children in a home right next to the Kapitans, behind the fire hall. Pat Murphy's real name was "Allen," but he always went by "Pat." He married Rose Durner, and they lived in Campbell. Art Kath was married to Edna. I don't know if they lived in Tenney, Campell, or in the country. John Polifka was my great grandfather. He ran the Tenney elevator as a young man, and was Tenney's rural mail carrier later on. He and wife Helen lived in a home in the southwest corner of Tenney.

One of the most interesting things to me about this photo is the fact that one can see the town hall (large building), as well as the fire hall (small building) in the background. And if you look closely, the town pump--such an important spot in town--is visible between those two buildings, complete with someone using the pump. This photo would have been taken in front of the Larson or Klugman Store. Considering the current condition of our little town of Tenney, I am always fascinated to see these wonderful old Tenney buildings in their prime. If you have any photos of Tenney's structures as they existed in the first half of the century, I am very interested in seeing them.