Melting away

By Chuck Vukonich of Fergus Falls

The property in the hills of Erhard. Contributed photo

I own some property up in the hills of Erhard and set within a retired pasture are the crumbling remains of an old log house and small barn. The barn was raised atop a split-stone foundation, the walls made of aspen logs. Hand-hewn, dove-tailed oak logs form the entire framework of the failing house. I suspect the logs for both the barn and the house were cut and prepared on site sometime in the late 1800s or early 1900s.

The buildings were abandoned sometime in the late 1940s. Now the elements of time and weather slowly claiming them both. Coyotes call the barn home and turkey vultures lay their eggs on the upstairs floorboards of the house. Strewn near the nest is a broken-up chair and some handmade wire muskrat stretchers that speak of a colorful era of fur trapping when most every farm boy ran a small trapline. At ground level below the south wall of the house, scratched into a patch of lichen-covered concrete, is the date 1934.

I purchased the land in 1974 and learned the family living there was large. An old timer who knew the family told me when the children were very young, they slept four to a bed; not the long way but across it.

The house itself is quite small, about 16-feet wide and 24-feet long. In the downstairs was a kitchen and a small living area, a short wall partly encasing the chimney separating the rooms. Steps from the kitchen lead to one large upper loft area that served as their main sleeping quarters. A root cellar lay beneath the sagging floor boards with remnants of broken, blue-colored canning jars. A rusted-out kerosene cook stove and a few old discarded cans are all that now remain in the old house.

A 1939 air photo indicates there was a rambling trail that entered from a long-abandoned township roadbed to the east, now home to deer and other wildlife. 

Some of the old buildings have fallen down and some still stand. Contributed photo

Early summer brings forth blooms of lilac bushes that identify the location of many other former homesteads here in Otter Tail County. In June, dark purple petals of iris flowers mark the spot of a flower garden that brought a dash of pleasure to a busy farm wife. West of the collapsing barn emerge each year several clumps of stunted rhubarb, likely part of a large vegetable garden. A stone’s throw away, subtle linear swells delineate the edges of a long-retired small farm field.

According to my abstract this particular farm was very small being only 20 acres in size. The lifestyle of that family and their hard work closely characterized a humble way of life, now only replicated in museums and written in history books. Providing for a family was no small task as both parents and children were held due to their daily chores. They were born farmers and the land they owned was part of who they were.

Electricity came to this section of the county about 1940, but the house and barn were never wired. Water had to be pumped by hand and carried or wheeled to the chickens, cows, hogs, and horses. A winter supply of firewood had to be cut, split, and stacked. Hay was cut by hand or horse-drawn sickle mower and forked into the loft of the barn for the livestock. Cooking, laundry, and canning of garden produce were all a part of normal life. They dealt with summer storms and winter blizzards.

Fields were tiny by today’s standards. A typical crop rotation at the time might have included oats, alfalfa or timothy hay, clover, corn, and beans. Before the use of herbicides most corn was planted using horses that pulled a planter guided by a checking wire stretched and anchored across opposite ends of the field to keep the rows straight. 

Some of the old buildings have fallen down and some still stand. Contributed photo

Small notches evenly spaced along the wire dropped several corn kernels into the soil as it passed through the planter.  After each row was planted the wire was moved. Checking allowed corn to be cultivated in both directions to control the weeds. All this work was slow and labor intensive.

School was usually let out early in May so the older children could help with the spring planting and chores. Cows were milked by hand. A hand-cranked separator provided cream for sale, homemade butter and ice cream. Worn out clothes were made into new ones or used as patches on the hand-me-downs.  

Some families kept honey bees, rendered maple syrup, and harvested wild strawberries, plums and other native fruit for jam and jelly. Wild hazelnuts were gathered and roasted for a nutty treat.

Saturday was a time to go to town to sell eggs and pick up various necessities. Sunday was devoted for church and socializing with neighbors or nearby family members. Getting together for a dance or potluck dinner were always a joy and when electricity arrived into the homes listening to the radio provided peaceful entertainment.

Now mostly removed from the land, our bodies have softened and new-fashioned conveniences have made life a whole lot easier. The generations that claimed a struggling farm lifestyle during the pre- and post-recession era have nearly all passed on now along with their life narratives. The memory of their past way of life, just like the old farm buildings left standing, are slowly melting away like the last snow drifts of a long winter.