The following
was written by John Oliver Thorson who
was a Grandson of John and Ida O'Neil
THE JOHN O'
NEIL FAMILY
PREFACE - Much
of the following was written 30+ years
ago and the transcript mislaid until
recently. Since it was written, some new
facts have come to light, so I have
re-written the transcript to include
these new facts and also to finish much
which I never got around to do years ago
when my time was short for such an
enterprise as this. - John Oliver
Thorson, 1992
This
is the story, as far as I know it, of
the John O'Neil family who settled near
Inkster, Grand Forks County, Dakota
Territory, about the year 1881.The head
of the family was one John O'Neil, who
was born near Valparaiso, Indiana, on
April 15, 1853. His mother died when he
was two years old, and his father left
him, never to be heard of again. Both
parents were born in Ireland, UK, and
were of the Roman Catholic faith. Little
John was taken by his uncle, Dennis
O'Brien, his mother's brother, where he
lived until he was six years of age. At
this age, he was taken into the home of
a man by the name of Syfers, with whom, he remained
until he was 14 years of age. He then
went to live with a family by the name
of Howells, where he remained only a
short time. He said that before he left,
the family would sit down for supper,
and they had a son grandpa's age by the
name of Sammy, and that the plates were
dished up only once for each, excepting
the mother would ask the son, Sammy,
"Sammy, would you like another piece of
bread". She would not ask John that, and
he was hungry and soon left to be on his
own. Also, the Civil War being on during
these early years, he tried to enlist as
a "drummer boy" at age 13, but was not
accepted.
John
O'Neil had only one sister who was eight
years his senior. They never lived
together after their mother's death, and
knew little of one another. Her name was
Maggie O'Neil. She was raised Roman
Catholic and was married to a man by the
name of John Doyle, who was a railroad
man out of Rochester, Minnesota. The
family lived in Sleepy Eye, Minnesota,
where Maggie died about 1890. She had
only one son, James Doyle, who never
married. Apparently there was not much
intimacy between the families, as Mrs.
John O'Neil stated that Maggie was out
to the O'Neil farm but once.
John
O'Neil told me as a boy he moved west,
earning his own way after he was 14
years old. He talked of having worked in
Wisconsin as a farmhand. While he was in
Wisconsin, he worked for a farmer with
100 milk cows. He and another hired hand
had to milk these animals by hand twice
daily. He said they would just finish
the first milking and then they would
have to begin over again. I asked him
how long he lasted, and he said one
week. He said his cords in his arms
became so sore that he could no longer
use his hands. Another thing he told me
was how to tie a loose bundle from a
grain binder. He learned that in
Wisconsin, too, having worked behind the
old McCormick binder, before they had
perfected the knotter
on the binder. The binder would cut the
Grain and drop the bundles on the
ground, after which the farmhands came
along, tied the bundles and put them in
shocks to dry prior to threshing.
There
seems to be quite a space of time
between the early years when he was in
Wisconsin, and the later period which I
shall mention. Grandpa told me about
being on the Custer Battlefield three
months after the Custer Massacre in
June, 1876. Later, in talking to his
son, John Leland O'Neil, it was
established that John O'Neil had driven
a mule team for General Miles at that
time. General Miles, who has an
excellent autobiography, came to Dakota
Territory shortly after the Massacre to
punish the Indians responsible, which
they did by attacking the Indian camps
in the dead of winter. I asked Leland
why grandfather had not been a U.S.
soldier at that time, and he said
grandpa had told him that the soldiers
only got $20.00 per month and their
board, and had to walk, while he got
$80.00 per month and board, and could
ride on the wagon. At approximately the
same time, he was in the Black Hills for
the gold rush of that time, and he saw
Wild Bill Hickok and Calamity Jane in
Deadwood, DT. He also told of an
athletic meet they had in the Black
Hills then, and he took part, and won
the hop, skip and jump event. I can
believe that as he had extremely long
legs for his size. He also talked about
the party he was in having been chased
by hostile Indians, who never caught up
with them.
Some time later, he took
up railroad construction. One of my
aunts, Margaret Elizabeth (Maggie)
Johnson, said he began working on the
old Manitoba railway right-of-way at
Crookston, Minnesota, and was employed
until the railway was completed to
Larimore, DT. About 1881, he was section
foreman for the Great Northern Railway
Company's construction of the main line
from Grand Forks to Larimore, DT. His
home was in the first Section house in
Larimore, where he had 100 track
laborers under him. He had to feed them,
and Sarah Jane Sanderson was his
housekeeper and cook. In July 1881, he
homesteaded in the Southeast Quarter
(SE1/4) of Section Twenty-three (23),
Township One Hundred Forty-four (144)
North, Range Fifty-six (56) West in Elkmount
Township, Grand Forks County, DT, which
was between 20 and 25 miles from
Larimore. The United States Patent was
issued to John O’Neil on May 15, 1883,
and was recorded July 13, 1889 at 5:00
P.M. in Grand Forks County, DT.
John
O'Neil met Ida Emily Sanderson at
Thompson (near Grand Forks). At that
time, her mother was his housekeeper and
cook in the Section-house in Larimore.
They were married in Larimore, DT, on
April 3, 1882.Ida O'Neil went to the
homestead in Elkmount
Township almost immediately after the
marriage. Her father, Stauts
Sanderson, built the frame home in the
SW corner of their homestead. It was a
shack of two rooms, and the trip to the
farm was made by oxen with their small
belongings on the oxcart, and the young
bride of 16 walking the 20-odd miles to
the claim. No crop was planted in 1882.
The building of the claim shack and the
breaking of the first sod seemed to have
occupied their time. The first crop was
planted to break the virgin soil for
John, who continued to work on the
railroad. They planted 26 acres and the
crop was a complete loss when the same
was hailed out. Ida O'Neil related that
John wished to give up the claim after
their loss, but she refused to leave the
farm and remained there until her death
in 1952.
Ida
Emily Sanderson was born near Seaforth,
Ontario, Canada, on February 18, 1866.
Her parents were Stauts
Sanderson, who was born near Ottawa,
Ontario, Canada, in 1832 of
Scotch-Holland-Dutch origin, and Sarah
Jane Latta,
who were married near Seaforth in
1864. They migrated to the United
States, coming to Crookston, Minnesota,
in 1879, when Ida was 13-1/2 years of
age. The children in the family were:
Ida; Ed Sanderson, born in Seaforth in 1866
(Ida's twin), and died in Larimore in
1886, and is buried in a protestant
cemetery there; Chauncy
L. Sanderson, born in 1870 at London,
Ontario, Canada, and died in British
Columbia, Canada in 1942. "Uncle Chance"
as we used to call him, came to the
Thomas Thorson home in Minot on several
occasions. He was a heavy cigarette
smoker and was passing through going
from North Dakota to Saskatchewan,
Canada. He was a veteran in the Canadian
Armed Force in World War I, 1914-1918,
and was reputed to have taken part in
some of the heaviest fighting in Europe,
but came out of the war without a
scratch. He went to Scotland after the
war, married a Scotch lassie and went to
British Columbia and lived there until
his death in 1942. A search of the
Benson County Register of Deeds records
in North Dakota shows that Chauncy L.
Sanderson filed on, the Northwest
Quarter (NWl/4)
of Section Twenty-four (24) in Township
One Hundred Fifty-five (155) North, in
Range Seventy-three (73) West by
recorded Receiver's Receipt (Devils Lake
office) dated September 10, 1901, and
recorded in Book RRA, page 138, for
$200.00, and recorded United States
Patent to such land in Book B, Page 79,
on August 18, 1902. Land later lost
through Sheriff's Deed (foreclosed for
$150.00 mortgage). Charley Sanderson,
born in 1872, (record in 1885 Dakota
Territorial Census) in London, Ontario,
Canada, who came to the United States
and lived with his parents. On May 1,
1901, he filed on the South Half of the
Northeast Quarter (S1/2NE1/4), and North
Half of the Southeast Quarter
(N1/2SElj4), Section Twenty two (22) in
Township One Hundred Fifty-six (156)
North, of Range Seventy-two (72) West in
RR A, Page 121, in Benson County, ND, on
May 6, 1901, at 4:OU P.M. for $200.00,
and United States Patent to such land
filed March 17, 1903, in Book B of
Patents, Page 6, and Sheriff's Deed to
such land was issued April 21, 1903, to
the Winona Savings Bank, Winona,
Minnesota. Uncle Charles, as he was
known in our home in my early youth,
returned to Canada and farmed near
Willow Bunch, Saskatchewan, Canada, the
remainder of his life. Not much is
known. Further, as to Ida's father, Stauts
Sanderson, although for years I was
under the impression that he had a claim
near Larimore, I find that his claim to
land was in Benson County, DT, in Aurora
Township, described as the Northeast
Quarter (NEl/4)
of Section Twenty-five (25), in Township
One Hundred Fifty-two (152), in Range
Sixty-eight (68) West, by recorded
Receivers Receipt Vol. 9, Page 96,
$200.00 paid and filed July 10, 1885, at
2:00 P.M., entry number 1172, and later
United States Patent issued to Stauts Sanderson
recorded 9:00 A.M., May 18,1889. They
lost the farm through Sheriff's Deed
dated July 19, 1887, to foreclose a
mortgage dated July 8, 1885, given by Stauts Sanderson
and Sarah Jane Sanderson, his wife, for
$400.00. Sold for $511.03 and recorded
July 21, 1887 at 1:00 P.M.. Stauts Sanderson
was a carpenter by trade and seemed to
have spent most of his life in Dakota
Territory at that trade. He was on his
claim in Benson County when the Dakota
Territorial Census was taken in 1885,
and is listed thereon as age 52 (see
such in Number 11, Supervisor District
No. 2, Enumeration District No. 41,
Schedule 1, Space 30 and 31). He died in
1886 and is buried in the Dodge Cemetery
near Inkster, ND. Sarah Jane Sanderson,
after the death of her husband in 1886,
was living in Benson County. I have
found no marriage certificate showing
she was married to one William Tough, a
farmer a few miles east of Rugby, ND,
but I did find a recorded entry in the
office of the Register of Deeds of
Benson County, ND, showing an entry at
Book C, page 343, where on November 19,
1898, Sarah Jane Tough quit-claim deeded
the NW1/4, Section 9, 156 North, Range
72 West to William B. Tough for $300.00
and filed January 13, 1899 at 1:00 P.M.
Little is known about my great
grandmother Sanderson, except that I
remember as a small boy that Ida O'Neil
stopped at the Thomas Thorson residence
on her way to Canada to visit her mother
who had taken a claim near Willow Bunch,
Saskatchewan, south of Moose Jaw,
Saskatchewan. Also, she most likely
wanted to visit her namesake, Ida Emily,
who was living with Sarah Jane on the
claim. Stories I remember about the hard
times they had on this Canadian claim
were to the effect that when they ran
short of meat, they would catch gophers.
They were living 30 miles from town and
had to rely on their neighbors to bring
them supplies, which apparently was
rather infrequent. I have tried to have
my aunt Ida recite
some of the facts concerning this period
of her life, but she is reticent to
discuss it, saying "she was quite a
person". Ida returned to the John O'Neil
farm around 1917, after being in Canada
for seven years. Ida O'Neil was supposed
to have been criticized for "giving
away" her child by letting her go to
live with Sarah Jane in her old age, but
I always considered it a kindly act by a
daughter to her aged mother. Sarah Jane
was supposed to have died of cancer
about 1920, and is buried in the Willow
Bunch Cemetery. For a detailed genealogy
of the Latta
family, so far as it is known, see
"family tree" to come elsewhere.
*******************************************
Now, as to
some of the physical characteristics
of John O'Neil. He was a man
over six feet in height, straight in
carriage, and well-built and handsome in
appearance in his younger years; and
later in life, distinguished by his well
preserved physique. Most of my
recollections are of his later years,
from his age 60 to 70. He was then in
good health, robust, ruddy of
complexion, tall and straight with only
a slight stoop at the shoulders. He had
no scars or lost members of his body.
His hair was white and fairly thick,
even at that age. His eyes were blue and
his facial features of the sharp,
well-shaped kind. He wore a short,
well-clipped mustache, and on most days
was well dressed when I knew him. He
rode in a buggy around the farm, doing
his work of managing the farm. The heavy
work was done at that time by his son,
John Leland and hired help, of which I
became one at an early age - 8 or 9.
John O'Neil was a man of quick temper.
If anything displeased him, he was prone
to let one know on the spot. A couple of
examples that happened to me, or which I
saw: One time, my brother, Orrin
Thorson, 18 months younger than I, had
been told by Grandpa O'Neil to fix a
fencepost that was down. It was dry out
that summer, and we got the post out but
the hand powered posthole digger did not
go down to make the hole like it should
have. Grandpa came over and bawled us
out and Orrin "sassed back" at him and
Grandpa took him by the arm and shook
him. I grabbed the digger and made a
great show of digging. Needless to say,
we were both frightened. Another time,
Grandpa had a cow "in heat" and asked us
to lead the cow over to the McManus
farm, about a mile away for service. The
cow lead
nicely until she was getting away from
the O'Neil land, and then she dragged us
young lads into the ditch and headed for
the barn. Grandpa came along about that
time, grabbed an old fence post lying
nearby, and hit the cow one blow across
the horns, and we had no further trouble
leading her over to the McManus farm and
back. Another time, a neighbor named
Blackhead came into the O'Neil yard and
complained to Grandpa that one of his
calves was in the Blackhead wheat,
across the fence to the north of the
house. An argument ensued. Finally, I
saw Grandpa remove his suit coat (he was
ready to go to Fordville)
and handed it to me and said "I never
saw a Norwegian yet that I couldn't
lick", and took after Blackhead, who
instantly turned and ran out of the yard
unto the road with Grandpa in full
pursuit. When he let you know of his
displeasure, there was no mistake as to
what he meant. However, he was quick to
forgive and forget.
He
was a man of great character. His word
was his bond. He had the respect of his
neighbors and business associates. He
never mortgaged his real property at any
time during his life and did not want
his family to do such a thing after his
death. His wishes in this regard were
always respected. During his early years
on the farm, he was prone to
occasionally "drink to excess", but when
Uncle Leland was born on October 13, 1897, he took the
oath and never drank again. He was an
excellent boss of people and a keen
judge of human nature. I know little of
his work habits when he was first on the
farm, as he was past that stage of his
life when I grew up big enough to know
him. My mother, Dora Mable, stated that
she always worked with him in the barns
and in the fields when she was a girl
and a young lady, and they worked
together with good success. Mother liked
to work with and for John O'Neil. All
farm work was done during those years
with horses for power. Grandpa had a
two-bottom gangplow using five horses,
and occasionally a sulky plow (16") with
three horses.
The
year that I was 9 years of age, my
brother, Orrin, and I started doing the
first shocking of grain for John O'Neil.
Harvest was there, World War I was on,
and farm help for harvest was scarce.
Grandpa asked us lads if we wished to
work. We said yes. He asked us how much
wages we wanted for working. We thought
awhile, and I finally inquired if 25
cents for three days was too much. He
chuckled, though trying to keep a
straight face, and finally said "No, I
guess not", and we were hired. The first
year, Orrin lasted shocking only one day
and then was assigned to carry the water
jug to the workers, then the next year
and thereafter, Orrin and I would do the
shocking, with him on one side of the
field and me on the other, and Grandpa
posted up toward the end of the field to
which we were working, with a big shock
of grain to lie against when we got
there, and he had the burlap-wrapped jug
of water on hand to cool us boys down a
little. It was then that he would tell
us of his adventures in his early days.
Leland handled the binder. I recall how
hard the work was for us small boys, but
we stuck to it, and John O'Neil
undoubtedly got the most possible work
out of us two small lads. After we had
been behind the shock, had some lunch
and cold water (the outside temperature
was probably 80 to 90 degrees
Fahrenheit), and he had told us of his
adventures in his youth and early
manhood, we would be much refreshed and
make the next round of the field as
quickly as possible so as to get back
for more stories.
This
harvesting procedure lasted three or
four years until we no longer went to
the farm in the summer months, but tried
to get out and find paying farm work. We
also were taught other tasks on the
farm, including handling horses, running
the binder, and dragging. John O'Neil
was a very good teacher, in my
estimation, and he always saw that both
his hired men and his teams had a good
meal at noon. During the noon-hour on
hot harvest days, we would go to the
house, unharness
the horses, give them a good drink and
plenty of oats, and then, after we had
eaten, he would lie down on the front
room floor (which was almost always
bare) and insist on us lads and Uncle
Leland taking a nap, or at best, a nice
rest and cool off, and then we would go
back to work refreshed and usually
worked until nearly sundown.
He
was undoubtedly the master of his house,
although Ida Sanderson O'Neil was a
strong person and had a lot to say. I do
recall them having some words
occasionally, and on such occasions,
Grandpa's voice became loud and hard,
and occasionally I saw him raise a chair
as if to strike, but I never saw him
strike anyone. Ida was very devoted to
him. I can recall her giving him his
bath of a Saturday night, which included
a haircut, fingernail trim and toenail
trim, as well as some powder, clean
clothes, and a little petting that they
did not know that we small boys were
taking in on the sly. To see Grandpa
O'Neil eat a meal was an education in
the old school. He had no gentile
manners, but being raised among rough,
working people, he did as others in his
class did. He ate with his knife, using
his fork only to assist him in holding
his meat in cutting, as I remember, and
holding all the food on the flat side of
his knife. He was very dexterous at this
and had no trouble beating the rest of
us through with his meal, if he was in a
hurry. He was a fast eater. When he ate
soup, he used a big spoon and made quite
a noise in getting it in his mouth, as
his moustache interfered to some extent.
He enjoyed good meals and his table was
one of the best set and hospitable in
this neighborhood. Many neighbors and
friends ate there every week, as well as
his large family, including us
grandchildren (Thorson's), and the usual
hired help. Grandma O'Neil was a
mistress of the fast meal. I can recall
a neighbor or friend calling
unexpectedly. She would hustle us boys
off to catch a couple young roosters,
dig a few potatoes and pick a few other
vegetables. If there was ice, we would
start the ice cream freezer, turning by
hand, and in no time she would have a
big feed on the table, one that would
have taken most others hours to prepare.
Grandpa O'Neil always sat at the head of
the huge table in the dining room, and
very affably insisted on his family and
guests to have another helping. Needless
to say, we small fry needed little or no
urging to get our second and possibly
third helpings of Grandma's good country
cooking. Now that I think of it, as good
a table as was set in those days, I
never remember either Grandpa or Grandma
O'Neil ever having been on the heavy
side. Grandpa never was in my boyhood,
and Grandma, though being
well-proportioned for a small lady, was
never obese.
Another
thing I remember about John O'Neil, was that
when he went to town to transact any
business that concerned figuring or
arithmetic, or business of any sort, he
always took Grandma along to verify the
result. This was a wise thing for him,
as he did not read or write. He was
supposed to have had (being an orphan)
only three days of schooling. He could
sign his name and he had taught himself
to read a newspaper, but his academic
training was nil. Grandma O'Neil had an
eighth grade schooling in Canada, and
was good at figures as well as being
very sharp mentally to grasp the
ultimate result of any piece of
business. It was a good method of doing
the family business, as it left Grandma
with a ready knowledge of their business
when Grandpa died in 1924.
John
O'Neil was a great hunter in his early
days. I never went with him on his
hunting expeditions, but I do remember
seeing him look out the window of the
house, grab his shotgun which was lying
nearby, run out of doors, and knock down
a chicken hawk circling over our poultry
in the yard. Other times, he would grab
his 10-gauge LeFevre
shotgun and shoot at a fox or coyote
that may have had designs on the
turkeys. To small boys, these were
things long to be remembered, and to
Grandpa O'Neil, things that he liked to
do for the fun of it as well as being
very practical. This LeFevre shotgun
took a man to handle it, as it was
heavy. Uncle Leland owned it for many
years and was a very fine wing-shot with
it. Grandpa could handle this gun until
the last years of his life. I have heard
stories of his early-day hunting and
fishing expeditions. One took him by
horse and buggy all the way to
Clearwater Lake, north of Devils Lake,
ND. He would return home with his buggy
filled with ducks, geese and prairie
chickens to enrich the family larder. In
addition to the meat so secured, Grandpa
had the fun of the expedition, which
apparently was something he needed. I do
not know if he was joined by others in
these expeditions, but he undoubtedly
had companions. The joy of the hunt has
been transmitted to his son, grandsons
and great-grandsons.
Although
I had never seen John O'Neil go on much
of a trip, other than in the
neighborhood and occasionally to my home
in Minot, I have heard about his trips
to various parts of the United States.
He usually went alone as Grandma O'Neil
had her children and other work to keep
her on the farm. Furthermore, she did
not approve of the financial outlay
needed for these trips. She preferred to
stay at home and save the money. But not so Grandpa.
He went alone and took in these things
he wanted to see badly. I have heard it
said that he went to the World's Fair in
St, Louis, Missouri, in 1903, and made
trips to other cities, the names of
which I do not remember. This is
probably explained by the restlessness
of his youth and his curiosity as to
life in general. He was a very smart man
and could figure faster in his head than
most persons could with paper and pencil
(there being no adding machines or
computers in those days).
Apparently,
John O'Neil was born a Roman Catholic,
but did not become very well
indoctrinated in that faith, as he did
not follow it in adult life. Grandma
O'Neil was Presbyterian and the O'Neil
children were sent to the Presbyterian
Sunday school at Belleville School,
about 2-1/2 miles north of the farm
where the early services were held for
the community. Besides the O'Neil
children going to the Presbyterian
Church at the school (they never erected
a church in the country), Grandma O'Neil
would send us grandchildren to Sunday
School, too, and I can remember the fun
we had with the other children, the
nicely-dressed people attending church
there, and the nice horses and buggies
then used, and later, a sprinkling of
the first motorcars then about. I have
found out, through the Fordville
History that Grandpa did attend the
Presbyterian Church in Belleville and
was a member of the Christian Endeavor
about 1894. Grandpa was a charter member
of the Inkster Lodge, A F & AM, and
was the first tyler.
John
O'Neil was a small farmer by today's
standards in the same area. However, his
two quarters of good farmland was enough
to keep he
and his family busy. There was little
expense for farming outside of machinery
and buildings. They had small grains,
including flax, wheat, oats and barley.
He also raised 15 acres of Timothy Grass
which he hayed for horse feed. He also
kept a large patch of corn, which was
cut early before frost for fodder,
shocked, and then hauled to the barn for
feeding as needed. I can recall
cultivating this corn patch and how big
and strong were the cornstalks at the
height of the summer season. Inasmuch as
I was on the farm only in the summertime
during our school vacation, my
impressions of the other seasons of the
year on this farm are made up mostly of
what I heard the next year from the
members of the family. The farm work was
done with horses. John O'Neil was a good
judge of horseflesh and had some fine
draft animals, including Dan, Jennie and
others I do not now recall. He also had
several fine driving animals at various
times during his life on this farm. I
particularly recall Belle, a small black
or dark brown mare of about 1000 pounds,
who, at the time I was familiar with
her, was still a good buggy horse. Many
are the trips I have taken behind this
animal. This was partly true at this
time because she was extremely gentle
and trustworthy. She was very fast on
the road and I recall that she was never
passed by other horses. When a little
race was on (nowdays
they would call it "hotrodding"),
she really got down and ran, even when
she was old and spavined. I also
remember Grandpa giving me a team to
plow with,
made up of one ordinary workhorse, one
old grey mare with colt at side, and
Belle, to plow with the sulky (a one
bottomed 16" plow). I could plow three
acres daily. However, I did suffer as
this team was not well matched, either
as to size, speed, age, color, weight or
temperament. Belle, being nervous and
speedy, would try to pull the whole
plow, the old grey mare being in the
rear and the third animal in the middle.
I had to pound the old grey mare to make
her pull her share of the load, and I
had to pull in on Belle to make her ease
up. She would have killed herself if I
had not. Anyway, for a lad of 11 or 12,
it was a rich experience which I shall
never forget. It showed how Grandpa got
his work done at the right season with a
makeshift crew to assist in this
important task. Another incident
occurred when Grandpa was haying on the
"lower place". Grandpa always raised 15
acres of Timothy hay for his horses. It
was a solid stem plant which the horses
relished and on which they stood their
work in the fields well. On this
particular day, Uncle Leland was
pitching the hay off the ground unto the
hayrack and Orrin and I were loading the
hay and spreading it around on the
wagon. The wagon had two slings, one
placed on the floor of the hayrack and
then loaded until the rack was about
half full, at which time the other sling
was placed on top of the then loaded hay
and the load was completed. When this
load was about to the top, the horses
became frightened at something and
suddenly lurched forward with the loaded
hay. Orrin was at that moment on the
rear of the load and was bounced
backward off the top on the load and
landed on his head on the ground. I have
often thought since that he was lucky
not to have broken his neck. He was a
little wobbly on his feet but seemed to
have survived. The loaded wagon was then
hauled to the new barn which had a track
in the haymow with a long, heavy rope
extending to the ground which was
attached to the top sling, and the other
end to a double-tree, and a team of
horses which pulled the hay sling loaded
with fresh hay up to the top of the
haymow and into the barn where it was
dumped in the exact spot they wanted it
unloaded. This was accomplished by
pulling a dangling rope attached to a
tripping device. After the first sling
was unloaded, the second one was treated
in the same manner and we went for
another load while the sun shown.
John
O'Neil was a charter member of the first
Masonic Lodge in Inkster. It was the
Forest River Lodge, granted its
dispensation on September 8, 1888,
chartered June 13, 1889, with the tyler
of the lodge listed as John O'Neil. He
also filed on a tree claim from the
United States prior to 1893, which was
in Walsh County a few miles north of Fordville. I do
not have the date. I learned about it
from Uncle Leland when we were driving
up there one time, when Leland's son
Jack had owned a piece of land they had
purchased from the Andrew Davidson
estate, of which Leland was
administrator. Suddenly, Leland said:
"There's Grandpa O'Neil's tree claim". I
asked if he still owned it and he said:
"No, he traded it in the early days for
a team of horses." It appeared to me to
be a rather hilly piece of land running
into a small creek valley and I paid no
further attention to it, except when the
U.S. built a huge anti-ballistic missile
base south of Langdon, ND, about 1970.
They went all the way to the Fordville
vicinity for an ample supply of fresh
water, and I would think this farm would
be in the middle of the aquifer used for
that project which was abandoned almost
immediately.
I
shall now put down some of my many
remembrances of my Grandma, Ida Emily
(Sanderson) O'Neil. She was born at Seaforth,
Ontario, Canada, on February 18, 1866,
and died at home on the farm on August
25, 1952. She was married to John O'Neil
on April 3, 1882, at Larimore, DT, and
almost immediately started for the John
O'Neil homestead with a few belongings
in a cart drawn by oxen. The original
claim shack on the farm (SEl/4, Section
23, Township 154N, Range 56W in Elkmount
Township), was built in the southwest
part of such claim by great-grandfather
Stauts
Sanderson, but was later moved to the
northeast part because of drainage
problems. Ida was then barely 16, and
she remained faithful to her home for 70
years.
First, as to
her appearance. She was not a
tall woman, and as a young boy, I
remember her as not being too heavy, but
not too slender either. She was possibly
5'3", and I remember her as having a
rather shuffling gait, quick of
movement, and with an exceptionally
clear, loud voice. She was a person of
great compassion - it being her desire
and ambition to help others. She had a
great love for children, otherwise I
should not have known her as well as I
did, because I was sent down to the
O'Neil farm nearly every summer after I
was two years old and she was the one
who took care of me and my brother
Orrin, who also went with me on most
occasions, especially after we were a
little older. They still tell the story
about me that when the O'Neil's were
building the big house on the farm in
1908, I was just a real small boy, but
at the farm, and the carpenter, Ole, was
up on the frame of the house building,
and he happened to see me in the garden
close by, eating potato bug. He hollered
loudly to my grandmother O'Neil, "Mrs.
O'Neil, the little boy is eating potato
bugs". Needless to say, my grandmother
yanked me out of the garden in a hurry.
Another time, when I was real small, but
at which time I can still remember, she
grabbed me out of her persimmon patch
and in no uncertain terms told me I did
not have watermelons but persimmons.
They grew on a vine like a watermelon
and though small in size, had light and
darker green stripes in the same
fashion.
Grandmother
O'Neil was a real wheelhorse
for work, with unending energy in the
days I spent with her on the farm, which
would be 10-12 years. It was her place
in the household to get the rest of us
up, get us fed and about our tasks.
During harvest, I can remember her
sticking her head up the stairway to the
second floor and hollering "Leland, time
to get up, going on five o'clock", and
at that time it was maybe five minutes
after four o'clock. Incidentally, Leland
was then going with his first wife,
Julia Thoe,
and had not been in bed long at the time
and needed the sleep. She was a great
hustler and a good leader and teacher. I
particularly remember later when Uncle
Leland's wife, Julia, died, she stepped
into the home and cared for Jack and
Louise O'Neil. When I was small, she
assigned many small chores to Orrin and
I around the
farm. I would help her milk when I was
older - she would milk four cows twice
daily and I would milk two. Orrin did
not like to milk and I do not recall him
milking, but I suppose he did
occasionally. Also she taught me
gardening when I was six or seven years
of age. She always had a big garden,
fenced, directly north of the big house,
and I was the official weeder. She
taught me the beets and the carrots from
the weeds, and explained carefully how
to remove the weeds without harming the
vegetable plants. It was something I
followed all my life and which I still
do (1985) to a limited extent. She was
great with poultry - raising 100 Holland
turkeys and 400 chickens each year. I
remember one had to be careful or you
would step in something you did not want
to scrape off your shoes, or if you did
not have any on, your bare foot. One
time when my brother Donald Thorson was
two or three years old, he walked out
into the barnyard where the turkeys
were, and the big, white gobbler took
offense and ran at the boy and began
picking at his face. My aunt Ella Mae
and myself
were present, and Ella Mae ran out and
took Donald up and out of danger. We
immediately ran to Grandma O'Neil and
reported the incident, and that night
the gobbler was taken from the henhouse,
on top of which he was then roosting,
and caged and the next morning was taken
out to the heavy, wire clothesline, and
after the big butcher knife had been
well sharpened, he was decapitated.
After the proper period of bleeding, he
was picked and made ready for the oven.
The bird weighed 40 pounds, and Grandma
could hardly get him into the oven to
roast him, but I do recall what good
eating he was, and of course, the
circumstances kept it fresh in my mind
ever since, which is close to 70 years.
Grandmother had many other duties at
that time from early morning to late in
the evening on those long, summer days
of the teens. She was a great cook. The
morning fare for years was large
buttermilk pancakes with lots of thick
cream from the evening milking, with
brown sugar and fresh, country butter.
Also, eggs and some sort of meat -
bacon, ham or otherwise, depending on
the time of the year and whether there
had been butchering going on shortly
before then. Her large meal at noon took
many forms - chicken and dumplings I
remember well, and though her dumplings
were mostly soft and fluffy, she was
able to make hard dumplings in the same
pot with the soft ones, as Uncle Leland
liked the hard ones. During harvest,
there being no refrigeration on the
farm, she would buy beefsteak from the
butcher in town and we would have steak,
or maybe a large pot-roast or even
occasionally a home-cured ham that she
had hidden in the oats in the oat bin
near the house. Of course, there was a
large variety of garden vegetables
during the growing season, on which
preparation squad I was a member, and
then much fresh bread that she baked
daily in the old Malleable Range in the
kitchen. She also was an expert on soda
biscuits which were an inch and one-half
tall, never hard, and perfectly shaped,
every one of them. For dessert, we had
some pie, but often, especially when
there was company, the dessert was
homemade ice-cream or homemade sherbet.
I always got in on the turning end of
that and still like both ice cream and
sherbet. With the ice-cream she would
serve either a piece of homemade cake,
or a homemade cookie. The cookies were
her pride and joy and which she made as
long as she lived. I recall when Edna
and I were living in Portland, OR during
World War II in the forties, she was out
visiting her daughters (Irene, Ida,
Jenny) and she called up and wanted to
come over to visit us. We went after her
and she was ill when she came but did
not want her daughters to know it, so
she called us and stayed several days
until she felt better before she went
back. During the time she was there, she
was busy making her famous cookies,
fruit, gingersnap and white sugar, and
I, of ice cream or homemade sherbet. I
always got in on the turning end of that
and still like both ice cream and
sherbet. With the ice cream she would
serve either a piece of homemade cake,
or a homemade cookie. UMMM! Other things
she did in those days was the making of
the butter, the surplus of which she
would sell Saturday night at the store
in Medford (later Fordville).
The preparation of this butter was made
to very high standards of health and
cleanliness. First was the milking of
the cows, they had to be wiped down
under the udders, and, if necessary,
washed. The milk was strained through
cheesecloth on the top of the bowl on
the cream separator and the cream
separator was located inside the pantry
just off the kitchen, which was
spotless, with a varnished, hardwood
floor. The cream separator was cleaned
after the morning milking and the sieves
were not only washed in hot, soapy
water, but then dried with a clean towel
and laid out in the morning sun to dry.
Grandma's butter never had anything but
a good, fresh taste, and that which she
sold in the five-and ten-pound crocks in
the store in town were the first to be
taken by those who were in the market
for fresh butter at the time, and it had
a wide reputation in the vicinity. This
butter was sold by the storekeeper and
applied to Grandma's account on any
purchases she would make. She would get
jars back for the next week's sale of
butter. As to the making, she had a
large barrel-like churn that would make
up to 20 pounds at once. This churn was
wooden-staved
with metal horizontal bands when the
churn was standing in an upright
position, ready to fill with the rich,
thick cream. Grandma kept her cream
separator "turned down" so that the
cream was thick. The churn sat on a
wooden cradle and the churn had a handle
on it which was fitted into the notches,
which after a little oil, we boys
sometimes churned an hour and it usually
seemed longer. After the butter began to
"come", Grandma would release the
pressure on the lid to the churn (which
had an ingenious fastener) to check if
it was fully churned, and we would then
remove the butter, add some coloring and
salt, and she would begin a mixing
operation which took quite a little
time. I think butter sold for about 20
cents a pound then and Grandma first
used all she wanted in her household
cooking before selling any. There was
not much use of lard then and
oleomargarine was unknown then in that
neighborhood.
Another
activity that I remember helping Grandma
with was the making of lye soap. In the
winter, the big house was heated by a
large, hard coal heater in the dining
room. It gave off a sort of white ash
which was removed from the stove and
placed in an ash pile near the house,
but in the direction of the new barn
near the privy. She would send me out to
the ash pile with a pan or box and
instructed me to bring in some of these
ashes. From that, the lye and lard,
tallow and other fryings
she made light-brown bars of soap, about
twice the size of the old commercial
laundry soap that my mother and wife
later used. This would be cut up and
used in the washing machine to wash the
bedding and clothing of the family. This
was before electricity on the farm so
everything was power by manpower, of
which we lads were donators. The washing
machine in those days was another thing
and I do believe Grandma had as good a
washer as was on the market then. As I
remember it, the machine was round, made
of wooden staves with a plug in the
bottom to drain. The lid was made of
heavy hardwood with a mechanism to turn
the washing blade on the inside of the
washer. The washer was filled with hot
water and then with clothes and bedding
which had been processed by Grandma
according to her high standards, usually
by boiling over the hot fire in the Maleable Range
first. Then we boys would stand by the
hour and turn the washer and wringer
until the clothes had all gone through
the washing machine and the rinse, which
was cold, fresh water, all of which was
lugged in and out of the house. Usually
the wash was done on Monday which was
called "washday", which it was and which
took most of the day. Of course, Grandma
did not do all the washing and other
heavy work alone. She often had some of
her many fine daughters home to help
her. I remember aunts Irene, Maggie,
Blanche and Ida, as well as Ella Mae,
who was only three years older than me,
as being home at different times to help
with the cleaning of the big house (5
bedrooms and big attic) as well as in
the kitchen and barnyard, but Grandma
O'Neil was the big producer and the one
who made things hum around the farm.
Grandma
O'Neil was nobody to talk about herself
or her relation. Consequently, I never
did know too much about her folks as you
can see by what is written above about
them. She never explained to us about
the birth of her own children, eight
girls and one son. I never heard of any
of her children dying, so she must have
been a careful person concerning health
and considering the primitive
environment she was living in after her
marriage and trip to the farm. She was a
person who had the very best of health
although I remember her having
indigestion and occasionally taking a
little baking soda to relieve her
stomach. She did have bad feet. She had
bunions on her feet and when she was
alone on the farm with just the family,
she often wore canvas shoes that were on
the large side, which I always imagined
was more for comfort than style. She
always wore a dress. I cannot remember
her having ever worn a pair of pants,
though I presume she did sometime in her
lifetime. Her hair was long, drawn up
into a pug on top of her head, and
fastened with hairpins or some other
fastener. Her complexion was ruddy and
her movements swift with no wasted space
or time when she was doing something. I
once told her that I could not go to
sleep easily at sundown. She took time
to explain that it was easy - all you
had to do was lay
down, tell yourself you were to go to
sleep, and, presto, you were sleeping.
She may have had an alarm clock but I
cannot remember one. She must have had a
"built-in" alarm clock, as she was
always the first one up at daybreak. I
slept most years I was on the farm in
the summer in the bedroom right over the
kitchen on the west side of the house,
and this room was connected with a heat
ventilator so I could hear what was
going on in the kitchen. When she had
the cook stove going, she would begin
cooking and the pans would begin to
rattle and the hot, good smells that
came up through the ventilator would
entice one to get up and get downstairs
to where the food was. One incident I do
remember about this situation happened
when I was ten or eleven years old.
During an early-morning thunderstorm and
shower, a bolt of lightning hit the
house, descended through the ventilator
in this bedroom, and hit the hot cook
stove below, rolled on its top and
disappeared, without damage to any of
us. My grandmother was fortunate she was
not hit, as were myself
and my brother Orrin, as the lightning
passed within a couple feet from us to
the room below. Another thing that
Grandma did when I was with her was
"rubber" on the telephone. This phone
was in a small room off the kitchen, now
used as a bathroom. The telephone was an
old type that was on a country line and
was operated with a hand-crank by giving
just so many long- and short-rings to
summon the listener you wanted to talk
with. She loved to talk to her neighbor
ladies but sometimes the ring could be
heard for another party on your line
(about 8 to the line then) and she would
go into the small room, raise the
receiver very gently, and listen to the
conversation. Sometimes she would repeat
what the conversation was about,
especially if it was of "earth-shaking"
importance to her. Because of that, she
was able to keep up on the neighborhood
gossip, events of importance, and
occasionally be of help to her fellow
man. Before the telephone was around, I
presume the local gossip was learned by
visiting other neighbors and friends and
by the weekly trip to Inkster, where
they traded. I believe Inkster was
incorporated about 1884, so I do not
know where they traded prior to that but
presume it was to Larimore, which was
considerably further, especially
traveling by horse and buggy.
One
time, Grandma O'Neil was up to Minot,
visiting, and she and my mother got into
a conversation on early marriages. She
was against them for that generation.
Mother made the remark, "You're only
seventeen years older than I am." To
this Grandma replied, "Just because I
was a darn fool is no sign others should
be too". Having been married at age
sixteen, assuming the responsibilities
of a wife, homemaker and mother all at
once at that age and making a success of
it speaks highly of her energy,
friendliness and productiveness. She had
six girls before she was 25, and all
were born in the two-room homestead
shack. I have talked to my mother as to
how they got by in such tight quarters,
and she said that her folks had a big
bed in the living room part of the house
and it was well feather-ticked and the
children were laid like cigars on the
bed so that they were cross-wise and all
could have a bed. The other bed was in
the other room where Grandpa and Grandma
slept with usually the baby in between
them, especially in the wintertime for
warmth. Mother said that when she and
her sisters wanted to move during the
night, they would all have to do it
together.
I
never heard how the children were
delivered when born, but it had to be by
midwife, of which many of the farm women
of that era were proficient at. Grandma
was famous for this. She helped all over
the neighborhood with this important
task, and all without any thought of
reimbursement. She also was a very good
self-made physician, knowing alot of homemade
remedies and poultices, and being sharp
mentally, she had good success in this,
her avocation, which she carried on as
long as she lived. After Grandpa O'Neil
died in 1924, she hired out as a nurse
during confinements. It worked like
this. The expectant parents, most always
farmers, would contact her a month or
two before the baby was expected, and
would engage her to help the expectant
mother prepare for a home delivery. She
would spend on the average of three
weeks on each case, going to the home
about 10 days before the confinement and
spending her time giving the home a
thorough cleaning. When delivery was
near, the doctor - usually Dr. Lommen from Fordville -
would come to the farm and remain until
the delivery was made, all with
grandmother's assistance. After the
doctor had finished and left, grandma
would remain and take care of the new
baby and the mother (who then was
usually confined to bed for from 10-14
days) before she got up and began caring
for her baby. Grandmother, depending on
circumstances, would give instructions
to a new mother on feeding and caring
for a baby before she went home and
there waited until she went on a like
case. For this service, she got her
board and room and $20.00. She carried
on this activity for some years until
more hospitals were built and the custom
of home delivery changed to hospital
delivery. I do suppose some pregnant
women about this time went into what was
termed a "lying-in" home, where the
householder took in the woman until
after the childbirth.
After
the death of my uncle Leland's first
wife, Julia, about 1929, Grandma took
charge of the farm home again for my
Uncle and helped raise Louise (O'Neil)
Haugen and Jack O'Neil, until they got a
stepmother, Stella O'Neil. Grandma was
great with babies and small children and
loved to hold them and feed and clean
them until she was very elderly -- never
showing that streak of impatience and
sudden temper that many older people
show toward small children, including
their own grandchildren. One thing she
did that I questioned, was to put food
in her own mouth and chew it, and then
take a spoon and transfer it to the
mouth of the young child. How old the
custom was, I do not know and I do not
remember my mother doing it to my
younger siblings, but Grandma did it at
home, and the grandchildren she helped
feed and raise were always healthy. An
example is her own children, most all
having lived past 80 years, and my
mother being 93 when she died in 1976,
and my aunt Maggie still alive and going
strong at 99 years (1985).
Grandma
O'Neil was a life member in the Masonic
Order of Eastern Star. In fact, a
portion of the name of the Forest River
Lodge at Fordville
(formerly at Inkster, but transferred
many years ago) was named after her
given name - Ida. She also was a member
of the Women's Christian Temperance
Union (WCTU), as was my mother, and she
also was a charter member of the
Christian Endeavor Society of the
Belleville Presbyterian Church which was
organized in 1894, and of which not only
Grandma was a member, but also Grandpa
O'Neil, my mother Dora Mabel, and my
aunt Jennie. She was very much against
alcoholic beverages in any form; also
tobacco, especially cigarettes which she
called "coffin nails". Possibly because
of her strong stand on these issues, I
can never remember my grandfather having
used either alcohol or tobacco, though I
am sure he did drink some in his earlier
years - otherwise, he would not have
been Irish. Uncle Leland did chew "J.T.
Plug Tobacco" and he liked to say he
liked it as his wife's initials were
J.T.
Grandpa
O'Neil came many times to get Orrin and
I at Niagra
when we came to the farm for the summer,
or took us there when we left in the
fall to go back to Minot to return to
school. It was a long drive by horse and
buggy, but it appeared to go fast
because we did not want to leave her.
She always went alone, and when we were
returning home, we visited and
occasionally had lunch at the McLean
home. She and Mrs. McLean were great
friends, and I suspect she left early so
as to get in some time to visit with her
friend. We did not always come that way.
Sometimes, after we were older, mother
sent us to Devils Lake on the Great
Northern Railway Company train. We would
get off there and carry our little
packages over one mile to the Soo Line Railway
depot, where we waited some little time
to board a passenger train for Fordville, where
Grandma would again meet us with the
buggy. Also, she would make calls by
buggy in the neighborhood. I remember
trips to the Bond farm, one mile north;
to the Bell farm, also a mile; to the
Best farm, about one mile; to the
Radcliffe farm, about two miles; to the
McManus farm, over a mile; and then the
close neighbors, Sam Wicktom, McConachies,
Walkers, Bensons and the McMillans. The
McMillan family was one where I went to
play and visit, and later my aunt Ida
married John McMillan. The first car I
drove was a Model-T Ford from one of
those neighbors, but which one I have
forgotten. The McMillans
also owned an early car called the Kissel car, and
I recall Orrin and I being taken along
one bright summer evening while Ida and
John went driving. We sat on the floor
in the rear and were advised to keep our
mouths shut - to be seen and not heard.
It was an exciting night for a
ten-year-old. Later, John and Ida
married and John went off to camp in
World War I but was discharged before he
left the country. He returned to North
Dakota and farmed near Fordville in the
1920's until they left for Portland,
Oregon in the late 1920's. Ida was a
great mother and an equally great
grandmother whom I shall never forget.
John
Oliver Thorson, the #1 Grandson.
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