Rural Minnesota Memories
In the last issue I got, you had an article about oxen (The Final Days of the Working Ox). My dad was born in the northwest corner of the North Section 31 Milford township, Brown County, Minnesota, in 1888. Somewhere in his teens or early 20s, he moved to Cass County, Minnesota, where he had a brother, Emil, and half-brother Gus. This photo of his oxen team was taken there. He used horse collars, upside-down on the oxen. In the spring of 1918, he was drafted, and on November 11, 1918, it was the Armistice. He then spent time until 1923 in North Dakota, then came back to the area where he was born. He sold firewood until 1935. He cleared the timber off of a valley property of 35 acres.
I’m 93 years old, and remember the ice being harvested on the Minnesota River at New Ulm. I was under the impression that the ice was being harvested for use on the railroad system which was adding two lines coming through New Ulm. I also remember a fellow with a horse-drawn outfit pedaling ice to homeowners in New Ulm, Minnesota. This was before mechanical refrigeration.
I live in the township of Milford and it has sections on the west side with six quarters in them. I’ve been told they go all the way to the Iowa border and a ways north. I’ve wondered how many other states have such.
Harley M. Vogel, New Ulm, Minnesota
It’s always a joy to hear from individuals who’ve experienced the types of stories we’ve written! As for your question, the U.S. Public Land Survey System is the standard method the government used to generally section off the land. This same system is shared by many Western and Midwestern states. The Minnesota State Government website also has accessible records for the exact divisions in the state. –Ed
Lesson Learned on a Dark Night
In my small Idaho hometown in 1955, I was able to get a summer job on a large farm and ranch. Jobs were hard to come by for a high school kid, so I was excited about the opportunity.
To get a couple of thousand acres plowed as quickly as possible in the spring, farmers were operating both a day and night shift. I was assigned to the night shift, working from 7:00 p.m. until 7:00 a.m. Two large Caterpillar and International tractors could each pull two plows, and I drove a smaller Caterpillar D-4, which could only pull one five bottom plow. All the tractors were crawler-type with steel tracks like most people see on bulldozers today.
One evening, we were almost finished plowing one of the large fields, and the two big rigs could finish it that night. The boss had me take “my” D-4 Cat over to start a new field, since I could get closer to the fence pulling just one plow. In this big field, I’d probably only be able to make two or three rounds the whole night. He moved the fuel wagon and pickup over where I was, and the other guys would bring their outfits over to that field when they finished where they were.
Sometime after midnight, I heard a loud “Bang!” behind the tractor. I looked back, and a piece of the plow had broken, causing it to come up out of the ground. I could see right away that there was no way I could repair it with the tools I had, so I’d have to get repair parts back at the shop. Fortunately, I wasn’t too far from where the fuel wagon and pickup were, so I drove across the field, got in the pickup, and drove about five miles back to the ranch. The shop was located down a gentle slope below the bunkhouse, and the slope then continued down to the wooden corrals. Understandably, I was nervous out there in the dark. I knew I needed to try to get the plow fixed because the boss would be very disappointed in the morning if I hadn’t gotten my job done. Leaving the pickup lights on to make my way into the shop, I found some pieces of angle iron and large C-clamps and a few other things that I hoped would work for temporary repairs.
Turning off the shop lights, I went out to get in the pickup. But it wasn’t there! Frantically looking around in the dark, I could barely see it sitting down the slope by the corrals. When I got down there, I saw it had smashed into the big wooden gate post. Thankfully, it had rolled slowly and just broke one headlight and dented the front fender, but I was sure I’d be in trouble for not being more careful.
When I got back out to the field, I spent an hour or so figuring out how to get the plow operational, and finally got back to work. When the boss came out in the morning, he didn’t seem too upset about the damage to the pickup. I guess he was just glad that I didn’t waste the rest of the night without getting any work accomplished.
But when thinking about it later, I realized my being careless with the pickup was a “bonehead mistake.” Dad used to say, “Everyone makes mistakes, but try not to make a ‘bonehead mistake,’ that a little thought and smarts could prevent.” And of course he added, “But if you do, then be sure to learn from the experience so you don’t ever make that mistake again.”
When faced with upsetting situations, as I grow older, I’ve always tried to make myself calm down and try to think more clearly about what to do. When I’ve been able to do that, my thoughts often go back to that very dark night when I was 15 years old.
Clark Ballard is a documentary film producer who has traveled throughout the U.S. and many foreign countries. He’s the classic example of “You can take a boy out of the country but you can’t take the country out of the boy.” You may email him at clarkball@bellsouth.net
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