Tim's
Recollection of Life in Eureka
Tim's
Recollection of Life in Eureka
My Memories By Tim Smith
I remember some events of my childhood. Although 40 years have passed since those times, some memories still linger.
First, let me tell you about events I do not remember. I do not recall living in an apartment above the Eureka State Bank. That was our first home after Dad and Mom moved to Eureka. Mom told stories about her first months in this German-Russian community. She recalled an old couple who by came by to visit They spoke to her in German the whole time. Mom said her college German courses did not help her, and figured this old couple probably thought her being a bit dense.
Mom also relayed the story about her first Fourth of July in Eureka. During the celebration, a gentleman strode over to the microphone to give the patriotic speech in German. This, Mom reasoned, was not the U.S.A.
I somewhat recall Dad's first office. He shared space with the town's Chiropractor, a Doctor Wolff. Although Doctor Wolff stayed in that location for many years, Dad decided to move his office to a basement location under the old Post Office (which at that time was probably the new office).
My earliest recollection concerns a time I injured my hand. We did not live in the old blue house; rather, we lived in a white house next to it. You may recall this place as the Gotthilf Mehlhaff residence. I was on a swing in the back yard. This swing was either an old tire or board rigged with rope and suspended from a tree limb. Somehow I cut my thumb and noticed a lot of blood. I could not verbalize what had happened, but remember crying out and looking for Mom so she could make it better. I may have been three years old.
I remember the day we moved to the old blue house, the house we all remember as home. I do not recall my age at that time. At some point, it dawned on me that Mom and Dad were moving next door. I asked someone to explain what was happening. Next, Mom gave me a paper sack with unknown items to take over to the new house. I do not recall where my brothers or sister were at that time.
I remember the time Dad and Mom left for a vacation in California. Dad had a successful case ( a traffic accident involving a train) and as a reward took Mom on a trip with the Arnie Lapp ^family. The kids stayed at home with a babysitter. An elder lady by the name of Mrs. Lang, whom we affectionately nicknamed Old Lady Lion, was left in charge. Although it seemed Dad and Mom were gone for months, they actually were gone for about three weeks. We thought Mom and Dad left us for good, and I remember being very grateful upon Mom and Dad's return. To this day, I get teary eyed thinking about Mrs. Lang's German cooking. If I recall correctly, she wouldn't let us out of the yard, and crossing the street was a definite no-no. (I understood her husband had been a police officer who was killed many years before. It may have been traffic related. Her house was located in the southwest part of town, and I remember seeing kerosene lanterns there. It was the first such lantern I had ever seen and remember being very fascinated by it.)
At the time of the trip, Mom was pregnant with Steve. Steve did more traveling than any other Smith sibling, although as a fetus he couldn't enjoy it much. Steve was born in 1958, which would have made me 5 years old at the time.
I remember the day Terry and I were supposed to visit first grade. I recall being afraid of going to school. At that time kindergarten did not exist, and it was customary for all 5 year old kids in town to visit first grade for a day so they could see what school was like.
Let me explain my fear. One day Dad drove the family to the old grade school, which was shaped like a bell. Mom left the car to deliver vaccination and birth records for Terry and me. With Mom out of the car, Dad told us Mom was in the Grade School. I asked Dad what happened there and he said kids went there to become adults. My fertile imagination brewed. I imagined being strapped to a marble slab - ala, Frankenstein's monster - continuously zapped with electricity.
So one day Terry and I were supposed to visit school, I pretended to be sick. I thought I had outsmarted Mom and Dad and laughed at Terry's gullibility. Imagine my surprise I was when Terry came home school. Worse yet, seeing all the neat things he had done in class upset me. He colored pictures, cut out snowflakes and did other art projects.
I don't remember being too excited about any of my classes. Terry and I took an IQ
test in the first grade and got a score of "120." Mom didn't think anything of it; however, Mrs. Schmitz called her to talk about one section of the test. Apparently, Terry and I did not answer any question correctly dealing with money. Mom began to give us pennies, nickels and dimes to teach us the value of money. In a sense, this was our first allowance.
Another teacher in the fourth grade thought Terry and I were retarded and told this to mom. Mom was displeased; however, she didn't want to show her anger to this teacher. This teacher wasn't bright enough to figure out that we were simply bored.
At one time, the land where the Dean Krein family has its house was nothing more than an empty lot. On the southeast comer of the block were some bushes, an old cast iron park bench and two old time street lamps which marked the entrance for a walkway leading up to the old people's home. I believe Dean Krein may have been the first person to build a house on that block.
Some of you may remember the pervert who lived next to the Goehring's residence. The Goehring family lived next to the Werner residence. I'm not sure if he actually lived there or if that's where his parents lived. I don't remember my age when we encountered this guy, but I don't believe I was older than 5 or 6 years old. Enough said about this topic.
Lydia Goltz lived next door. I remember her first husband, Henry Koerner. Later, she married Emanuel Rath, and finally Ed Goltz. Amazingly, they all died of heart problems, probably brought on by all her nagging. Our other neighbor, Mrs. Werner, was aghast at Mrs. Goltz's third marriage. Mrs. Wemer claimed the first marriage was by God, the second marriage was by man, and the third marriage was by the devil. She absolutely disapproved of Mrs. Goltz's impending nuptials. Mrs. Goltz married frequently, I believe, because she did not like lightning. During especially intense storms she thought her ex-husbands were coming to get her. Moreover, she would invite one of our sisters to spend the night with her so she could share her agony/
I remember the day Terry got married. Mrs. Goltz said, "Terry is finally a man." I told Mrs. Goltz that I was also a man. She looked at me and said, " No, you're still a boy. Terry's a man."
Henry Koerner claimed a boogie man lived in the old tool shed. We believed it. Since there were a lot of tools and power equipment inside the shed, he didn't want us snooping inside the building. One day I looked inside the shed and did not see the ogre. I asked Henry where the monster went and Henry told me the old troll went downtown to get a beer. I believed him.
Mrs. Goltz did not like us getting within ten feet of her garden. We managed to do it
anyway. I guess we did it because we wanted to find out if we could get away with it. I remember spending a lot of time looking at her garden from our fence line. (Remember the gooseberry bushes.) Even though we were on our side of the property line, Mrs. Goltz always felt nervous about us being so close to her beloved garden.
Across the street to the west of our house lived Mr. and Mrs. Karl Wemer, whom we used to call Grandma and Grandpa (in German, that is). I remember the old smoke house, which they used frequently. I remember the old chicken coop and all the chickens in it. Mrs. Werner also had a big garden which she tended. The chickens always hated the Fourth of July. I remember one year when someone threw a string of firecrackers into the coop, and all the chickens died of fright.
Mrs. Wemer also had a still and made lots of wine (for medicinal purposes, I am sure). I remember getting a bottle of wine once for shoveling their sidewalk. It only happened once; therefore, I suspect either Dad or Mom called the Werners to say something about it.
I still remember the Christian songs they taped. I think the singers were at least as old as they were, and weren't very good to boot. However, the Werners would play the music as loud as the tape player would allow. They played the tape player endlessly. I remember the time Terry, Barb, Debbie Werner and I played our band instruments for them and they taped it. Although we all began playing the song at the same time, none of us stopped in the right place. I don't think the Werner's really cared.
Fourth of July in our house was a big holiday. Father Jungwirth taught the kids how to throw firecrackers, much to the consternation of Mom and Dad. This was the only time I recall him ever smiling. One year our Roman Candles were facing the Wemer yard and sparks were hitting their newly painted, gray porch. Mrs. Werner came out mad and yelling in German. That was the last year we shot Roman Candles on that side of the house.
I don't remember if Mrs. Goltz made her own wine. I do recall the time her grandson* Lamont, raided the wine cellar and got thoroughly drunk. He busted a large jug filled with wine and he got very sick. Dad asked us if we had anything to drink and] we told him that we did not. (Which was true.) We didn't see Lamont too much after^that I heard he became a minister. It may be that Lament's family thought we were a bad influence on him.
I don't remember too much about Mr. Hieb. I barely remember his wife. My most vivid recollections about Mr. Hieb concerns the days he butchered his chickens. He would grab a chicken by the legs and cut off he head. Once the head was removed, involuntary muscle reactions would make the chickens run around the yard. We
would chase the decapitated chickens until they stopped, pick up the dead chickens and bring them back to Henry.
The first day of school saw Terry, Jim Schaeffer, and I go to class all wearing the same outfit. James didn't want to go unless he dressed like us. One day James' mother sent James to our house knowing that we all had either the chicken pox or measles. She wanted James to get all those childhood diseases.
Vaccinations at that time were for diphtheria, typhoid and pertussis. I remember when the oral polio vaccine first came out. One of our babysitters, either Randeen or Sandra Reich, had polio as a child and walked with the aid of crutches. Uncle Jack Ryan also had polio, and did not know it until much later when he saw a doctor because he was not improving.
Speaking of babysitters, we had a number of them. I don't recall most by name and their faces are all a blur. However, some had a fascination with mom and dad's room. At times, we would see a boyfriend arrive at the house to visit. On several occasions the babysitter and boyfriend would go into the parent's bedroom, shut the French doors, and we'd all be stranded in the living room.
I remember Terry's operations on. his feet. Terry's operations took place at McKenna Hospital in Sioux Falls. I recall being with Mom at the TV station where Captain Eleven was broadcast. After yelling "Eureka," Captain Eleven lifted me up so I could turn a dial to begin a cartoon. I told Captain Eleven about Terry's operation for birth defects.
I don't know how long Terry was in the hospital. I believe he must have been there for some time. Someone set up the baby crib downstairs for Terry. Terry got two cowboy outfits as gifts and wouldn't let me wear either. I think he wore those outfits the whole time he was convalescing. I tried to figure out how I could get laid up and get all those wonderful presents too.
As a kid I tried to get as much free stuff as possible. Dad and mom were good friends of the people who owned the Variety Store in Eureka. Their store was located in the location where the Schaeffers had their furniture store. The owner's name was Rome Snell (I don't remember his wife's first name). I had bragged to some kid that I could get free stuff from that store. He didn't believe me, so Terry, this kid and I went to the Variety Store where we saw Rome. I asked him for some free candy. He gave it to us; however, he was reluctant to do so. Later, Dad talked to us about the episode and was none too happy about it. I don't recall the kid's name. It may have been James Schaeffer or Craig Pleinis.
Speaking of Craig, I remember playing a game of marbles with him with Dad's
marbles. Dad had gotten his old marble collection from Stickney, of which he was very proud. Craig and I played a game for "keeps", and I lost some of Dad's marbles. Dad was not very happy with this game.
Which brings me up to my next topic - potty training. One of the most traumatic events for any young child, I believe, is learning where to do one's dirty deed. (In fact, we never used the term "poop;" rather, we called the stuff "dirty.") There is usually a time in every kid's life when he or she knows not to poop or pee in one's pants, but do so anyway. If we used the bathroom instead of our pants, I would have mom come see what a wonderful think I had done.
I remember one time when I accidentally went in my pants. I didn't know what to do. I spent the whole afternoon trying to figure out how to get out of my predicament. I thought of everything except the most obvious and that is to change my clothes. I even thought about running away, but who would take in a kid with a full load in his pants? Mom finally figured something was amiss when she saw me hiding behind the kitchen door, which connected the kitchen to the dining room. (She may have also smelled me.) She asked me why I didn't say anything sooner and I told her I was afraid. I think I spent four hours with poopy pants.
Our garden. The Smith gardens were never worth a hoot. The carrots were so tiny that one would have needed a microscope to see any growth. Nothing grew except weeds. Mom told a story about the time Dad planted a garden and bought a sack of fertilizer. The sack had printed instructions. Dad reasoned if a little bit of fertilizer did such a great job, just think what a lot of fertilizer would do. He used the whole sack. This miscalculation "burned" the vegetables and for years afterward only huge weeds grew in the garden patch. We tried growing other gardens, but managed to only grow pee wee plants. The most notable growth in our garden was its collection of pets. It became a wonderful pet cemetery. (Except for our goldfish, which we buried in the front yard with a formal and prayerful ceremony.) Dad never tried to do gardening after that. In fact, I still have his coveralls.
I have one more comment about the garden. The weeds were so high that it made for a great hiding spot. One day in the garden, Ruby Goehring showed us her father's adult magazines. We paged through it and were fascinated by what we saw. We couldn't understand why those women wore so few clothes. Ruby told us they made a lot of money doing it. We always thought Ruby was so worldly.
Jokes. I remember the first joke I ever heard and also who told it to me. Terry and I were in the garage with James Schaeffer, and he told us a joke about a frog on a piece of poop. ("Won't die till the log rolls over!") Of course, Terry and I thought it was terribly funny, and I'm still amazed that it is one of the few jokes I know. Dad told us the silly vaudeville jokes (e.g., What's black and white and read all over?) I guessed
"nun." I don't recall Mom telling jokes. Dad's jokes were usually not that funny, but he'd "roar" anyway.
I remember a time when Terry and I got lost, or rather, when Terry got lost. We were quite young and didn't have a lot of experience going outside the yard. As Mom talked to Mrs. Koemer, Terry felt a bit adventurous. He asked me if I'd like to see what was north of the old people's home. I didn't have any problem with that, so we walked on the road toward the Old Lutheran Home. Upon reaching the old people's home, Terry wanted to go further. I agreed. Continuing north we reached the end of the block but became disoriented. Terry couldn't remember how to get back home. I told Terry that we needed to go back the same way we came; however, Terry disagreed. Terry decided to walk east toward Kenny Krein's home. Meanwhile, I decided to go back and get Mom. Although happy to see me, Mom asked me to take her to Terry. Utterly lost, Terry walked back and forth along the road hoping to see some recognizable landmark.
Mom and Dad put up a snow fence in a little area outside of what was then the back door. (For those of you to young to remember, its location is now where the new addition to the house is.) Inside the fence was a sand pile. Terry and I were satisfied with staying in the pen (at least that's what Mom always claimed). I don't recall too much of that time period; however, I do recall the day Barb was placed in the pen. She climbed out. Terry and I climbed out too, but not because we wanted to be free. I think we wanted to make sure she didn't run off and do something stupid. (Wandering must be in the Smith blood. Of course, none of us had the desire to watch the big trains come rolling through town like Steve did.)
Ghosts. You probably figured sooner or later I would have to mention this topic. We grew up in a haunted house; however, I don't remember thinking of these ghost as evil incarnate. (Well, most ghosts at least.) Our house served as a hospital in the early part of this century. I suspect some of our spiritual visitors may have expired on premises. I dreaded going upstairs at night by myself - even with the lights on. I imagined something very sinister up there.
I always thought we had several ghostly groups in the house. Do you remember the dreary music which sounded as if coming from a muffled radio? We tried to find its source. On several occasions I was alone in the house, and would hear the "radio noises", and I would search the house for its source. Unfortunately, I never did find out where the noise was coming from. I've always wondered how many bodies are buried in that house.
What type of apparitions did I witness? I remember one time seeing feet come out of a wall and, out of curiosity, I touched those feet with my own feet. I saw little "elves." Of course, I had an active childhood imagination.
Other apparitions were harder to explain. One time Terry and I awoke and witnessed circus animals coming into the bedroom. Either Terry or I swung a pillow to keep one of the animals away, and the swinging pillow broke the light fixture above our bed. (Incidentally, the next morning Mom discovered the broken light fixture but did not believe our story.) The last animal, a lion (or lioness?) jumped on our bed and the bed fell. (Coincidentally, the bed's slat slipped and by the next morning the bed was actually on the floor.) I don't remember being scared about this incident. I think a better term would be "fascinated."
Other unexplained events included apparitions and ghostly footsteps climbing the stairs. Oh well, I know I never did like being in that old house by myself. It was always a bit on the spooky side.
Grandma and Grandpa Smith. Their names were William and Mary Smith. I didn't really know Grandpa Smith that well. One time I remember Robbie Fox running around their house and disturbing Grandpa Smith. Grandpa stopped Robbie cold by tripping Robbie with his cane. I don't recall any conversation with him, although I do remember talking to him. Probably kid stuff. He died in the very, very early 1960's (it may have been the late 1950's).
Grandma Smith was a very nice, old lady. She spoke French as a child (her parents were French Canadians who were fur traders). I remember writing to her in French (this must have been during the time I took French lessons in the 4th grade). The Fox family lived with her, and we visited Grandma and Grandpa and the cousins at the same time. Robbie was the wild one and didn't like Superman or Batman; rather, he was a big fan of Spiderman, the Hulk, and the Fantastic Four. I think those comics helped map his later life.
Later, Grandma Smith lived in the old people's home in Corsica, which is located south of Stickney. I remember visiting her there, but I don't recall talking to her there. She may have been the next grandparent to die, but of this I'm not sure. I was with Dad when he visited Grandma for the last time where she was hospitalized in Mitchell. This was the last time I spoke to her, although it was very hard to understand her.
I don't recall a lot of stories concerning Grandpa or Grandma's families. Dad said Grandma's side of the family came from Quebec. While growing up, Dad always claimed they were French fur trappers. Maybe. Excuse me if I mix up the next story. One day, a man by the last name of De Lierre (?) drowned when he fell into the river. Apparently, he thought the ice patch he was walking on was sturdier. His wife married a man by the name of Turgeon. There were children from both marriages. One of the children in this family was our Grandmother, Mary.