George Hasler
We moved from southern Minnesota to a farm in the Battle River community in October 1920. There was Mother, Dad and me, a boy of nine, who had always lived in town. Dad had acquired the place known as the Berglund homestead as a part payment for our home in LeSeuer County. There was a small house, part log and part frame and one acre of cleared land. Although we had lived in town, Dad had a team, a couple of cows, a wagon, sled and a few pieces of machinery. All this, along with our household goods, he shipped to Kelliher by rail in what was known as an "emigrant car", which he accompanied to take care of the stock. Mother and I followed by coach, arriving in Kelliher just a few hours later than Dad. We were met by Dad and Axel Peterson, who was the first man we met in the new community. Mr. Peterson was then in the real estate business and had taken Dad out to see the new place about a month before.
Kelliher was then quite a thriving place, with Latterell's and George Gunderson's the largest stores. We stayed at the Kelliher Hotel that night and the next morning Dad got someone to help and started to unload. They assembled the wagon, loaded it with some of the household stuff, tied the two cows behind, and at 3:00 in the afternoon were ready to roll. I think Dad didn't have a very good idea of the distance to Battle township, because in spite of some good advice we started out, with Mother and I perched on top of the load.
By the time we got to the Firman schoolhouse it was getting dark, and the two cows were about played out. We got as far as the Heinzer farm, where Mr. Heinzer offered to let us put the cows in his pasture and pick them up whenever we wished. This was the same man who a few years later committed two murders and was himself shot and killed.
We plodded on, not even sure if we were going in the right direction. When we got to what was known as "Squires Corner", we turned south instead of north, but luckily hadn't gone far when we met Mr. and Mrs. Pete Ten Eyck walking home from an evening visit with the Houser family. They got us turned around and headed in the right direction again. By this time I think Mother and I were both crying, the team was about played out and I can imagine how Dad felt. We finally saw a lantern in the road ahead, and it turned out to be John Carlson waiting for us. Mr. Ten Eyck had called him and told John to get out and stop us, because "those people are liable to keep right on going". Mr. Carlson took us to his house, took care of our team, and Mrs. Carlson fed us and put us to bed. They were wonderful neighbors then and for the many years we lived just across the road.
Such was my introduction to the 'north country'. It was a tremendous change from the environment I had known but I loved it. Even going to Saum school in a horse drawn bus was an adventure. I remember a man named Nordby was the principal then, a rather ineffectual man and totally unable to cope with such characters as Sig Quale, Thorwald Linnum and E. Carlson and others!
I know reminiscing is a sign of old age, but I may as well face it. When one starts talking about things that happened over forty years ago, he's had it.
Kelliher was then quite a thriving place, with Latterell's and George Gunderson's the largest stores. We stayed at the Kelliher Hotel that night and the next morning Dad got someone to help and started to unload. They assembled the wagon, loaded it with some of the household stuff, tied the two cows behind, and at 3:00 in the afternoon were ready to roll. I think Dad didn't have a very good idea of the distance to Battle township, because in spite of some good advice we started out, with Mother and I perched on top of the load.
By the time we got to the Firman schoolhouse it was getting dark, and the two cows were about played out. We got as far as the Heinzer farm, where Mr. Heinzer offered to let us put the cows in his pasture and pick them up whenever we wished. This was the same man who a few years later committed two murders and was himself shot and killed.
We plodded on, not even sure if we were going in the right direction. When we got to what was known as "Squires Corner", we turned south instead of north, but luckily hadn't gone far when we met Mr. and Mrs. Pete Ten Eyck walking home from an evening visit with the Houser family. They got us turned around and headed in the right direction again. By this time I think Mother and I were both crying, the team was about played out and I can imagine how Dad felt. We finally saw a lantern in the road ahead, and it turned out to be John Carlson waiting for us. Mr. Ten Eyck had called him and told John to get out and stop us, because "those people are liable to keep right on going". Mr. Carlson took us to his house, took care of our team, and Mrs. Carlson fed us and put us to bed. They were wonderful neighbors then and for the many years we lived just across the road.
Such was my introduction to the 'north country'. It was a tremendous change from the environment I had known but I loved it. Even going to Saum school in a horse drawn bus was an adventure. I remember a man named Nordby was the principal then, a rather ineffectual man and totally unable to cope with such characters as Sig Quale, Thorwald Linnum and E. Carlson and others!
I know reminiscing is a sign of old age, but I may as well face it. When one starts talking about things that happened over forty years ago, he's had it.
