Franklin County, Nebraska

For Another Day

This is a continuation of the writings of John Berger of Sacramento, CA. John supports my writings and sends me cards and letters. John searches deep into his Gingrich roots and has promised to send me the old letters written by his grandfather, Edward Gingrich to his grandmother, Mary Ellen Sullivan before they were married. I am so anxious to learn what life was like in the early 1890’s.

I have some old letters written by John Howell of Hildreth. These Howell letters are so precious and I hope to run them in my column soon. By reading the Howell letters I can just imagine how wonderful the Gingrich letters will be. They tell of life just as it was during that time period. Old letters are one of the best sources for history. I will be waiting for these letters. In the mean time I have another poem about the Gingrich farm, south of Riverton. This poem reflects the impressions that John has of the house and some of the thoughts of his sisters, Mary Ellen Doshas and Pat Lepley.

The Gingrich Place.

So good the foundations still here tell me about the house-
So many places nothing left.
Here’s where the kitchen was
Wood stove over there
Wood too scarce burned cobs and coal.
Smell the dried fruit cookies? Smell the fired chicken?
Smell the laundry brought in before the rain?
The dining room was here
Good place to sit in the winter by the south window
Coal oil stove was here
That’s where we took Saturday baths before going to town.
Moved here in 1907 or 1908 from the sod house
Parlor was there front door rarely open
Don’t think anyone ever used that door
One bedroom downstairs-
That’s where Grandpa and Grandma slept-
She died in 1926
Ug! We had to empty his pot in the morning- I hated that job!
The pond a quarter mile east almost hidden by the trees
Dammed in the 50’s some government program or Federal incentive
Natural springs up that draw good place for a dam.
No running water in the house
So cold in the winter pumping and carrying the water
No electricity until REA in the 50’s
The outhouse was there-2 doors-2 holes- cobs and newspaper
Halfway between the house and the pigs.
A second well down there too for the horses
And lots of fruit trees down there
Smell the blossoms? Taste the jam?
And what was said every day at noon with out fail
‘Did the mail come yet?’ or ‘ I’ll get the mail.’
We all slept in three bedrooms upstairs
And one bed in the hall
JB, Lucy, Mary Ellen, and I slept in a three quarter bed
In Aunt Lucy’s room
Barbara Jeanne and Pat slept in Babe’s bed-old iron one in the hall
Sometimes I slept downstairs with Grandpa or Uncle Emery
Mom and Dad slept in the west bedroom with the feather tick mattress.
When Barb was in the iron bed she though
She’s be electrocuted by the lightning. John Berger, June 25, 2000

Don’t let your simplicity be imposed on. Richard Sheridan.

Rena Donovan, For Another Day.

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