What We Do

NO SENIOR PROM FOR SEVEN GIRLS
1971
For one reason or another there were a bunch of us Senior girls who didn’t go to our Senior prom. Uncle Sam got my date and I asked someone else. He was not happy when he found out he was the second person I had asked and didn’t talk to me for about year. I don’t blame him. Anyway, a couple of my classmates invited the rest of us to go out that evening. I’m not sure if everyone came along that didn’t go to the prom, but we had such a good time we decided to continue the fun throughout the summer. There were seven of us girls and we had a whole lot of fun before we went off to college in the fall. There were all sorts of crazy things that happened that summer and the memories are many. It was a great hyphen between high school and the rest of our lives.

REMEMBER CHARLIE BROWN SHOES?
They were the shoe to have when I was a Senior. In the summer of ’71, mine could usually be found at our front door on Saturday and Sunday morning covered in mud. It really was a wet summer and we girls seemed to always be getting into mud somewhere, for some reason. And of course, there are lots of stories behind that mud that will be shared this summer at the reunion.

BUS DRIVERS
Back in 2001, when emails were circulating with stories of Esmond, there was a series of “Bus Driver” stories that went around. Here is one and I think maybe Ron Stadum wrote it.
Frank Eberly drove bus for a while either just before or just after Jake Schwab drove this route. He was the only driver slower than Jake. Duane Stadum got his first grey hairs on a bus ride home from school one spring day. Duane was, and still is, a farmer to the bone and a damn impatient farmer, too. It was a beautiful spring afternoon, perfect for farming. Duane was almost foaming at the mouth to get home, so he could get in the field with Orville. I bet Orville already had the 4020 warming up at 3:30. All the way around the route there were farmers out cultivating, picking rocks and someone was even seeding. Duane was having a nervous breakdown because the bus ride was not going fast enough. Frank kept the slow pace, though, 44 mph; maybe 55 mph on the downhill may. By the time we got to Orville’s place, Duane’s hair was about half gray. We never even saw him get off the bus. We just heard a noise like air rushing and Duane was gone. A couple days later, Orville bought him that Nova and Duane never rode the bus again.

SMOKING IN THE BARN
Cindy and I had seen lots of people smoking cigarettes and had even watched some roll their own. It didn’t look that tough. So we headed to the barn with our Native American tobacco, catalogs, matches and took our place in the manger. We were ready to try this smoking thing. Obviously, we had not paid close attention, because our so-called cigarettes didn’t even remotely resemble anything anyone else was smoking. We used an entire page from the catalog, sprinkled a bit of freshly picked tobacco in it and rolled. One end was small enough to put in our mouth and the other end was about 2-inches in diameter. Do you know how fast one of “our cigarettes” burned? I can’t remember who was lighting and who was smoking, but we dropped “the cigarette” quickly before our eyebrows were gone. Of course, that started a fire in the manger. Lucky for us, we got the fire out and there was that chance that no one would know what idiots we were. That was until Cindy and I got into a fight about this and she got mad at me and “told on us.” I could never figure that one out. She got in as much trouble as I did.

BEST CANDY COUNTER EVER
Timeline: Early 1960s
Ann’s Café had the best candy counter ever. If you had a dime, you could fill a small brown bag completely full. If you had a quarter (which was unheard of), you better get a bigger bag. This was in the day when you could buy one, two or even three pieces of candy for a penny. Parents could get a whole lot of visiting in while kids tried to decide just what they wanted from this huge selection. There was so much to chose from, so I had to make very sure I was buying exactly what my taste buds wanted to taste when I got home. All was great with this candy experience until it came time to pay. Sometimes there was a problem at the counter. The problem was the Marthe Brothers working there. John and Irvin were the worst, but Dan liked to tease, too. They would take your bag of candy and your money and pretend like they were not going to give it back to you. You knew it was coming, but really wanted the candy, so you were willing to put up with just about anything. Eventually, they would give it back, but oh how they loved to tease.

THINGS WERE BIGGER BACK THEN
Maybe Ann’s Café’s candy counter wasn’t really as big as I remember. It is kind of like those huge power lines we’d see if we were anywhere near Garrison Dam. As a kid, I was in total awe of these huge giant structures that went on and on across the prairie. Years later, as an adult, I kept searching for those power lines whenever I was in that area. I was surprised they had replaced them with a tinier version. That is until one day when it dawned on me that they were the same power lines. I’d just gotten older and my world had gotten smaller. You don’t look at things quite the same when you grown up. Darn. I hate when that happens.

DRIVER’S EDUCATION…YIKES!
Timeline: 1978-79 school year
Dwight Leier taught drivers education for many years and seemed to have more patience than anyone. I’m sure he has many tales to tell, but here is one that someone sent back in 2001 when we were sharing stories. It was winter and Lynn Hoffert and Craig Reierson were paired up to go out for a drive in the driver’s ed car. The plan was to have Craig drive going out and Lynn driving on the way back. It had rained and froze, so all the roads were covered with an inch of ice…even the gravel roads. They started down the coulee hill on the county road southeast of town. Craig was afraid to hit the brakes, so they started picking up speed. Dwight started getting nervous and barking, “Tap the brakes! Tap the brakes!” Craig panicked and locked ’em up. The car slid around a couple times and down the ditch sideways and rolled on its top. Lynn said, “There we were, hanging from the seatbelts like three bats.” Craig flunked drivers ed and Lynn told that story to anyone who’d listen.

MAGIC OF SUMMER SATURDAY NIGHTS
Timeline: 1950s and 60s
Summer Saturday nights in Esmond were magical when I was a kid, as I’m sure they were in all of small town America. Especially as seen through the eyes of a child like myself. When we were sharing stories about growing up in Esmond in 2001, Barb Bartsch said we were living Americana and I believe we lived it at its best. We may not have thought so at the time, but we were.

Vern was also right when he said you knew who the farm kids were because their hair was still wet from their Saturday night baths. What he failed to mention was that all the little girls were attired with a row of brown rubber curlers at the base of their heads. The kind that Moms stuck a piece of hair in on one side and rolled it up tight, pulling the other half of the curler up over the hair, attaching it to the other end. Amazing little items, because on Sunday morning all of us little girls had “beautiful” flips in our hair for church. It didn’t matter that we all looked liked total dorks the night before, because our hair was beautiful for church the next day.

Besides some really exciting movie being featured at the show hall, the stores were open late so Moms could pick up groceries while they were in town. Horner’s grocery store had little benches in the front so you wouldn’t have to walk around the crowded store with your mom. A lifesaver.

After the movie, we children ran up and down “Main Street” like crazed people. Often times, a water balloon fight would be going on in the big white bandstand across the street from Ann’s Cafe. Somebody like Vern Erck and his buddies would plant themselves on the second level with a bunch of water balloons and attack anyone who walked by. Even some poor little girl with “rolled-too-tight-it-made-her-eyes-bulge” curlers in her hair.

We had air pollution, too. It was caused by the teenagers who drove around and around and around in their cars all night. Gas was cheap, so it was cheap entertainment. “Riding around” caused almost near traffic jams. The streets were not paved at the time, thus the constant cloud of dust, dust fog and air pollution. It was especially bad if some young guy decided to try to impress some young lady by “tearing out” in his “hot” car. This happened many times a night equaling more dust.

For the most part, the moms sat in the cars along Main Street visiting with each other, while the dad’s were in one of two bars. If a mother decided to go into one of the bars for a while, she would leave her sleeping baby in the car. If another mother heard the baby crying, she would either take care of the child or go get the parent. Everyone knew who everyone was and what everyone drove, so this was never a problem. My mother said in later years, “Today this would be called child abuse.” At that time, no one thought anything of it. Because we all knew each other, we kids had to be careful how we acted while running up and down the streets. We could get into big trouble if any one of those moms caught us doing something wrong.

When we kids were tired of playing or needed a dime, we would either bug mom in the car or go to one of the bar doors – knock – and ask, “is my dad in there?” Within seconds, the requested dad would appear and it would be time to go home, because there was “church on Sunday.” If you were in second grade or older, there was no snacking when you got home, so you could meet fasting requirements to receive Holy Communion at St. Boniface Church the next morning. Amen.

THE LADIES OF ST. BONIFACE CATHOLIC CHURCH
Timeline: 1960s
As you well know, ladies of Catholic-persuasion were required to wear something on the heads whenever they attended church. For example: the chapel cap, which was round, made of lace, and came in a variety of colors. It resembled a lace doily and some days one felt like putting a vase of flowers on top of their head to accessorize. The classier version of the chapel cap was the mantilla. It was a triangular piece of lace with a Spanish flavor that could be tied beneath your chin or simply left hanging down up your shoulders. Both of these items were anchored with a bobby pin at the top of your head. We had a chapel cap that had a hole in it from the bobby pin. You never wanted to get stuck with that one. It required some creativity so the hole would not show.

Another popular head attire was the lightweight, shear scarf. It came in a whole array of colors and prints and could be purchased at a very inexpensive price at the Ben Franklin or Berg store in Harvey. On a good sale day you could get scarves at three for a dollar. It allowed us to own many different colors. The other big plus about these scarves is the fact they would not squash hair that had been teased (ratted, back-combed) to great heights and then styled. Pam Erck, Barb Bartsch, and Nancy Leier had mastered the art of hair height and could probably get their hair higher than anyone else. I’m sure they could attest to the wonders of this type of scarf. At one time, where that scarf was tied and positioned on your chin indicated if you were going steady with some guy or something like that. I was too young for that.

The ladies of St. Boniface Catholic Church were in need of money. Possibly for new linens for the altar, new coffee pots for the kitchens or new educational materials to teach the children about God. Whatever the need, they needed to make money. Because of the above-mentioned requirements for Catholic ladies, they decided a hat sale would be the answer. Why should we spend all our hat money in Harvey, Rugby, Devils Lake or Minot when we could put in right back into the church–the very reason we needed hats. Soon the church basement was turned into a hat boutique. There were hats of every shape and size and color. The pillbox hat covered with a delicate piece of lace that gently pull down over the eyes was a popular item. After much deliberation, I decided on a navy brimmed hat that sat high in the crown. My sister, Cindy, choose a more round straw hat with black patent leather trim. We were simply gorgeous in our new hats, I’m sure. Can you imagine how fashionable the ladies of St. Boniface Church were that season? In retrospect: If I look back on pictures from that time, my hat actually looked like a short rimmed fedora that had been run over by a truck. Cindy’s hat looked like a Kaiser helmet minus the sharp point on the top. I guess our tastes have changed. However, I still have a soft spot for hats.

HANDSOME FARMHANDS
My dad had all of us kids working on the farm in some capacity from an early age. Once my older brothers, Roger and Gary, were on their own, my dad went from having two very competent sons who where capable of doing most anything to…well…three girls. If he barked at us for something, our feelings were hurt and we’d cry. And then there was that whole other realm of female issues my mother would have to discuss with him. Oh dear. He actual got a lot of work out of us and just had to learn how to deal with a bunch of females. After Bonnie left home, it was just Cindy and I left for quite a few years. We always figured if we had to be outside working we might as well get a good tan out of the deal. It was not uncommon to see the two of us shingling a roof in our swimsuits. We also had the same intentions when we were out hauling hay bails. We couldn’t quite wear swimsuits, but we did use a small top with a pair of jeans that had layers of patches on the knees. Mom kept putting on patches as fast as we wore them out, which was quite often. There were times when she stitched them on while we ate lunch. Most days, we had Mike Fritel helping us haul hay. However, one day Dad decided the Pfau boys should help us so we could get the hay in quicker. Oh my God…the Pfau boys? These guys were really good-looking and we had to haul hay with them. How could we be cute and cool on a hay truck and still see these guys in a social setting? So the day Dennis, Don and Jim Pfau showed up to help us haul hay, Cindy and I showed up on the truck with make-up on. I’m sure Dad thought we were crazy, but isn’t that what any teenage girl would do?

SEX EDUCATION AND VATICAN II
Timeline: Around 1967
There are two things that have been said to me in my life that I have carried with me always. One was my mother’s comment after I had made a statement about not wanting to look stupid by asking questions in class. She simply said, “It’s better to look stupid than be stupid.” It has stuck with me all these years.

The other statement was made by Father Duchscher during our “sex education” lessons at Wednesday night CCD classes. Do any of you remember these? Wow! Sex education classes in Esmond. I want to say I was in 8th grade and even some of the Lutheran kids came over to be part of this first in our community. It was big and there was lots of talk about it…some for and most against it. To be honest, I don’t remember a whole lot about the classes. I’m sure the older grades covered it in more detail and we got the beginner’s version. John and Ida Belcher lead our group and Father Duchscher would come in to speak to us. Father had that piercing look that demanded your attention. At least in demanded mine. At one point during these classes, he gave us that look and said, “If you remember nothing else from these discussions, I would like you to remember to do this: When you are in a situation that you know is not in your best interest, take a moment and ask yourself ‘can I handle the consequences?’ Because you and only you are going to have to handle the consequences.” It’s amazing how that can still apply in my life today and, obviously, I still remember it.

Do any of you realize how far Father Duchscher brought St. Boniface parish in the 1960s? After Vatican II, he embraced all the changes that came with it and things in our church changed quickly. There was grumbling, but it was really an exciting time. The communion rail disappeared. I personally didn’t mind that one, because I had a huge birthmark on my leg that I was certain everyone saw when I knelt down for communion. (Yeah, like they didn’t see that in school since girls were required to wear dresses all the time; even in North Dakota winters. How insane is that?) He brought the pulpit out closer to the people and turned the altar around so we could see what he was doing. Latin masses were no longer and we actually knew what we were saying. The 60s were exciting; especially at St. Boniface Church. With Father Duchscher’s guidance, we were one of the first parishes to make the changes. No one could accuse us of being behind the times.

That Father Duchscher…he was a good one. When he decided to leave the priesthood to get married, it made me sad, but I could certainly understand it. It made many of us Catholics in Esmond believe that priests should be able to marry. We would have kept an exceptional one if that were the case.

MARTIN PETERSON – CUSTODIAN EXTRAODINAIRE
Martin Peterson was the custodian at Esmond Public Schools for thirty-five years, retiring in 1970. Martin wasn’t just any custodian. He was the very best there was by students’ standards. He had more Esmond Eagle yearbooks dedicated to him than any other person and for very good reason. Besides doing his job, it was all the little things he did for the kids and the respect he gave them. In return, he gained the students’ respect. When we were out on the playground, without fail, our kick balls, softballs or whatever would end up on the school. We’d set out to find Martin and he’d graciously climb on top of the school to retrieve them for us. I don’t ever remember him being grumpy whatsoever, even after the millionth time we asked him. In the wintertime, he would cut down the big, waxed milk cartons that were in the milk dispenser in the lunchroom turning them into the sleds. He’d bring them out to the playground for anyone who wanted to slide down the big mounds of snow that evolved over the winter. It was so much fun. I’m sure he heard and knew everything that was going on in that school, especially with the older kids, but I don’t ever remember it going any further. He was simply a very nice man and I hope he knew how much we appreciated him. I think he did.

WHERE WERE YOU WHEN PRESIDENT JOHN F. KENNEDY WAS ASSASSINATED?
Back in 1963, we had CCD classes at the Catholic church around 2:00 p.m. on Fridays. (Yes, in case you don’t remember, we were let out of school early on Fridays to go to religious instruction in this German Catholic community. We then returned to the school by 3:30 to ride the buses home. The few Lutheran kids who were left at the school cleaned black boards and erasers or did something to fill their time.) It was 12:30 p.m. on Friday, November 22, 1963, when President Kennedy was shot. It was also my sister Cindy’s ninth birthday. As we left the school and began our walk to CCD classes the buzz started. Some of us talked about it all the way to the church in disbelief and couldn’t understand why anyone would want to shoot our president. When we got to the church door, Rose (Hoffner) Schwab was there to meet us. She sent us right up to the church instead of downstairs to the classrooms. It was so fitting to have Rose there to meet us, because in my fourth grade mind I had always thought of the Hoffners as our Kennedy family. I’m sure that had everything to do with the Hoffners being a large Catholic family, Democrats and Buckshot being in the forefront of North Dakota politics. I always likened Rose to Eunice Kennedy Shriver. After Rose had sent us all upstairs, we gathered in the church and we began to pray. We were praying for President Kennedy’s survival, because at that point we didn’t know that he had already died. Shortly thereafter we got the news. The days following seemed like a bad dream and were filled with sadness. It was the first time I had ever been glued to a TV trying to find out all that I could. It was probably one of the first events in our country’s history to be covered that extensively by television. To watch everything from Lee Harvey Oswald being shot right there in front of us to seeing John Jr. salute his father’s casket was surreal. It has been etched in my brain every since.

THE POOL HALL
The pool hall beside the show hall was the place to be back in the ’60s. I remember spending the most time their during my junior high years, and worked hard trying to be really cool. The song Lightning Striking Again by Lou Christie always reminds me of that place. My mother, May Rieger, wasn’t actually allowed in the pool hall by her sweet little daughters. She was only allowed to open the door slightly and motion at us when it was time to leave. The great thing about my mom was she was okay with that. I guess she realized we were going through that awkward–trying-to-fit-in age and it wouldn’t last forever. She was right.

For a week in eighth grade, Donna Heisler and I had cigarettes hidden in the women’s bathroom at the pool hall. Tons of them – three, I think. Whenever we could get there, we’d go into the bathroom and take a few puffs off our cigarettes. (Gary Halvorson likes to tease me and says Frank Manning would go in there after we left and take a few puffs off of them. I’m not sure Gary was even born yet, so he lacks credibility.) It didn’t take long and we decided it wasn’t much fun and haven’t touch them since. Some things turn out okay.

BEHIND THE POST OFFICE
One night, when exiting the pool hall we could hear chatter from behind the post office, which was right next door to the pool hall. This block was a jumpin’ place. What we heard was “on the count of three KISS!” This was junior high romance at it’s best. If you were liked someone, but you were too shy to actually kiss them, just get a bunch of couples together and do it all at the same time. Such innocence. I think it was Jackie Truax and Bert Gumeringer, Donna Heisler and maybe Tony Wack, and a few more couples. Vern, were you one of them? Well, we were not the only ones that heard “one, two, three, KISS!” So did Bert’s mom, Agnes, and she was not happy with this behavior at all. Party over.

On another occasion, there was a crowd gathering and the fur was flying behind the post office. Fight! Fight! Linda Halvorson and some other girl were duking it out. Whoever it was, silly of them to think they would get the best of Linda. Actually, I don’t remember who won, or if anyone did, but Linda could stand her ground. That wasn’t the only fight behind the post office. It seemed to be the place to go to finish out a disagreement. At age 12 or so, the older girls just scared the crap out me. I kept my distance. Every so often a fight would break out in the bathroom at school amongst the older girls. Time to leave. What was that anyway?

MOST FAN PARTICIPATION EVER
Timeline: 1970
Esmond’s varsity basketball team was in the midst of a close game with rival Minnewaukan and emotions were running high. Minnewaukan’s Dave Johnson stole the ball from Esmond and was going down the court for a layup. Greg Hoffner was between him and the basket and when Dave went up Greg bent over just to protect himself. Johnson goes rolling over Greg, head first, and hits the floor. When Dave, who was big and well built, got up off the floor he started toward Greg, thinking Greg had done this intentionally. Larry Jaeger, not being much bigger than Greg, stepped in between Dave and Greg to push them a part. Minnewaukan’s coach, whom people say was really hot headed with a short fuse, thought Larry was going after Johnson. He comes flying off the bench and grabs Larry around the chest. At that moment, Chris Jaeger flies (he had to have flown, he was out there so fast) out of the stands and grabs the coach. Before you know it the stands were cleared and people were rolling around on the floor. Poor Stanley Syverson ends up on the floor, too. Randy “Moose” Streifel gets so excited and lets go of a round house hitting Stanley square in the eye. Stanley got a huge black eye, but thank goodness, that was the extent of the damage. Nothing like “fan participation.”

HOW MUCH DO YOU WEIGH?
If you were female and drove a grain truck, John Marthe knew your weight. When any female drove into the elevator with a load of grain, John, who managed the grain elevator, would quickly weigh the truck and then weigh it again when she got out of the truck. A little bit of subtraction and he knew her weight. Cindy Rieger was aware of this, so she would drive that truck in so fast and jump out before John could get her weight. She also would run into his office and hide behind the door, because she more than likely had a swimsuit on. It wouldn’t be uncommon for the Rieger girls to wear swimsuits out in the fields or on a roof if Vince had them shingling. Might as well get a tan while you’re waiting for the combine to come around or pounding nails on a roof. Multitasking before we even knew what that was.

THE ELUSIVE MALTED MILK (Yvonne Rieger Westrum)
Timeline: 1960
I woke up one morning not feeling real great, but thought I felt good enough to go to school. Afterall, it was my first year of school and I had not missed a day yet. I was coveting that Ann’s Cafe malted milk end-of-the-year grand prize for perfect attendance. Once I got to school, it doesn’t take long to realize I’d made a mistake. This was evident as I dashed for the garbage can at the front of the room and proceeded to throw up in front of my entire class. (Wonder what they remember me for?) Mrs. Woodsend gathered me and my little red chair and took me to the girls’ bathroom. (This was just prior to the new elementary wing opening up, so we shared a bathroom with the high school girls.) My little red chair was placed under the Kotex machine and there I sat waiting for my mother with a pasty white look on my face. Many of the high school girls came in and stopped and said “oh you poor little thing” and patted me on the head. Then most proceeded to the open window facing the playground for a cigarette. They were being sneaky, but the smoke just rolled out of that bathroom. The smoking was nothing compared to the fact that I had just blown my perfect attendance record. I had to kiss the thought of going to Ann’s Cafe at the end of the year for one of those yummy malted milks. Life can be so hard in first grade.

THE NEW ELEMENTARY WING
Timeline: 1960
One day when the Class of 1971 was in first grade, our teacher Mrs. Woodsend asked all of us to grab our little red chairs and line up behind her. She began to lead all thirty-two of us on a journey to a wondrous land. We filed out of the room behind her, walked down the hall past the lunchroom and then, for the first time in our little first grade lives, we took a right turn. We followed her down a huge hallway that went on forever. But there was light at the end of this tunnel (actually doors to the playground.) There awaiting us at the end of the hall was a brand new classroom. It was huge. It was sparkling new. It was glorious. And what was really fabulous is that we only had to share a bathroom with the second graders and it didn’t have a Kotex machine in it. Life was good.

TWINS COME TO TOWN ­– Mid 1960s (Yvonne Rieger Westrum)
It was recess time and we grade school kids were outside playing when a car pulled up to the edge of the playground and a couple of men got out. Living in Esmond, we had probably never been told “not to talk to strangers,” but these guys started handing out glossy photos of themselves and signing them. We quickly got our little bodies over there. It was Frank Quilici and Tony Oliva of the Minnesota Twins. Some of the boys knew this, but the group of girls I was with were clueless. I could sing “Your gonna win Twins. Your gonna score. Your gonna win Twins. Watch that baseball soooooar!” but that’s about it. By the time they left, I knew who they were and still have my glossy photos of them.

They had been in Devils Lake, more than likely on their spring tour, and were looking for a good place to eat. Somebody who wanted a good laugh sent them to Ann’s Cafe in Esmond. Ann’s Cafe was definitely a great place to eat, but anyone that had ever been there also knew that Ann Wentz was a die-hard Yankees’ fan and had the cafe plastered with any piece of Yankee memorabilia she could get her hands on. If you were dining in her cafe and a Yankees’ game happened to be on, you were going to listen to it whether you wanted to or not.

It was a pretty memorable day in Esmond with lots of teasing and laughter going on. After Frank and Tony left, Ann had a little soft spot in her heart for a couple of Twins. She must have, because someone built her a huge picture case and she displayed all the Twins 8×10 glossy pictures that Frank and Tony sent her after their visit to her cafe.

P.S. Ann always remained a Yankee fan though. Upon retirement, Ann was awarded a trip by her friends to go and see the Yankees play in person…take me out to a ball game…finally! It couldn’t have happened to a more deserving fan.