Posts about West Point, and its inhabitants.
I have been scanning in photos and adding to the family history. When I found this picture of two cousins, I spent some time finding out more about them. Kathryn Link is Walt’s great-aunt, and Helen Brockman Hummert was her cousin on the Kempker side of the family. I browsed through the pictures and found a couple more photos with them.
It’s been so much fun to dig through the pictures. I found a couple of great ones with Walt’s Grandma Link this time. Lizzie was born April 2, 1890.
W.J. Link (Walt’s grandfather) did a lot of different jobs, threshing, pulling stumps, laying drain tile and drilling wells over the years. We found a couple of pictures in the latest batch that show some of his worksites.
The Midwest Old Threshers Reunion in Mount Pleasant has been an event since 1950. I found a couple of pictures from the 1966 event in Georgie’s photos.
Cletus “Clip” Freitag was born on September 16, 1914 in Lee County, Iowa. His parents were William Henry Freitag and Catherine Bernadine Menke.
This weekend is the West Point Sweet Corn Festival! Sadly, I won’t be able to get back for it, but the Sweet Corn Festival holds a lot of fond memories, not just for my family but for just about everyone in the area.
We had been designated the family historians and had spent many a delightful weekend going through pictures and slides with Georgie, recording stories and enjoying our time with her. When Georgie died, we spent many weekends with Walt’s brothers going through all the items in the house.
As our family went through my mother’s personal effects, we discovered these essays, handwritten in a spiral notebook. Immediately, we knew we had found a very special look into the early life of someone we loved and admired. We’re sharing them here in the hope that others may enjoy them as well.
These essays are being written because I have often thought how nice it would be if, say, my great-grandmother had written about what life was like when she was growing up. It would have been so interesting to know how people’s daily life and experiences fitted in with the history that was being made at that time.
North of the house, down in a draw, an old man, Marian Reif, had built a one room cabin. Some of the walls were sides of the draw. He had come to my Grandpa’s. I can’t remember if he was selling something or just a vagrant. He lived there a year or two anyway – had some chickens. I suppose Grandpa gave him milk and meat. I think he had a garden. I know my mother gave him food sometimes. He got sick finally and couldn’t stay alone anymore and the went to the county home where we went to see him once. When he died he was buried in the Summitville Church Cemetery.
As our family went through my mother’s personal effects, we discovered these essays, handwritten in a spiral notebook. Immediately, we knew we had found a very special look into the early life of someone we loved and admired. We’re sharing them here in the hope that others may enjoy them as well.
These essays are being written because I have often thought how nice it would be if, say, my great-grandmother had written about what life was like when she was growing up. It would have been so interesting to know how people’s daily life and experiences fitted in with the history that was being made at that time.
North of the house, down in a draw, an old man, Marian Reif, had built a one room cabin. Some of the walls were sides of the draw. He had come to my Grandpa’s. I can’t remember if he was selling something or just a vagrant. He lived there a year or two anyway – had some chickens. I suppose Grandpa gave him milk and meat. I think he had a garden. I know my mother gave him food sometimes. He got sick finally and couldn’t stay alone anymore and the went to the county home where we went to see him once. When he died he was buried in the Summitville Church Cemetery.
As our family went through my mother’s personal effects, we discovered these essays, handwritten in a spiral notebook. Immediately, we knew we had found a very special look into the early life of someone we loved and admired. We’re sharing them here in the hope that others may enjoy them as well.
These essays are being written because I have often thought how nice it would be if, say, my great-grandmother had written about what life was like when she was growing up. It would have been so interesting to know how people’s daily life and experiences fitted in with the history that was being made at that time.
We enjoyed having company overnight. Sometimes they would stay a few days in bad weather, when there was some school activity in the evening and the time when Uncle Ben broke his leg getting up wood and when their little brother, Donald, was sick with pneumonia. He died (March 24, 1929), was buried on a Sunday, which saddened us all. On March 11, 1932, our little brother, Arthur, died of pneumonia which was also heartbreaking. (Read more about Arthur here.)
As our family went through my mother’s personal effects, we discovered these essays, handwritten in a spiral notebook. Immediately, we knew we had found a very special look into the early life of someone we loved and admired. We’re sharing them here in the hope that others may enjoy them as well.
These essays are being written because I have often thought how nice it would be if, say, my great-grandmother had written about what life was like when she was growing up. It would have been so interesting to know how people’s daily life and experiences fitted in with the history that was being made at that time.
We enjoyed having company overnight. Sometimes they would stay a few days in bad weather, when there was some school activity in the evening and the time when Uncle Ben broke his leg getting up wood and when their little brother, Donald, was sick with pneumonia. He died (March 24, 1929), was buried on a Sunday, which saddened us all. On March 11, 1932, our little brother, Arthur, died of pneumonia which was also heartbreaking. (Read more about Arthur here.)
Powered by WordPress & Theme by Anders Norén
