In Touch with Prairie Living
March 2008
By Michael M. Miller
Germans from Russia Heritage Collection
North Dakota State University Library, Fargo
The Prairies magazine, published from 1975 to 1986 by
the Ashley Tribune, printed two articles titled "Passage
to Dakota" which featured an interview with Andrew
and Christina Neu who had celebrated their 75th wedding
anniversary in 1982. They were married on October 1,
1907, at Delmont, SD. This March column shares some
of the memorable excerpts from this taped interview.
The complete interviews can be found on the GRHC website.
The following has been printed with permission from
the Ashley Tribune.
Andrew Neu states: "I come from Russia, I was born in Neuburg, South Russia,
on January 3, 1895. My dad, Jacob Neu, was born in
Neuburg on January 23, 1828. Dad was a carpenter.
He made wine barrels, butter churns and pails. Mother
had ducks and geese.
"Saturday afternoons a man came from the big
town of Odessa. He had a lot of candy for sale. We
didn't have no money, and so we took eggs and trade
them off on candy. When I was 13 years old, I had
to go away from home. I worked for nothing, and I
worked hard. I had to stay up to 15 years old. When
I was 16 years old, I was confirmed. I don't remember
what kind of suit I wore, but I didn't have any shoes.
The man I worked for gave me his wife's shoes to wear.
They were three inches too long and curled up at the
tips.
"In October [1901], we moved away to America.
The 11th of November 1901, we came to New York, four
days later, we come to Menno, South Dakota. We live
there till 1915, and then we moved west 30 miles.
Russia is the best country there is. Nice land. You
go out and plow - level ground, no rocks. Not like
around here. Up the hills, flat rock. Not like around
here. You take a hammer and you can make pieces of
the rock to build houses. Russia was real good living
as long as the Kaiser (Czar) was there.
“We worked hard when we lived in Russia. There
were no threshing machines, no binders. We had a scythe
to cut wheat. Then we got a wooden fork, three-pronged,
and raked the wheat into piles. When we got done harvesting,
we made a bed out of black dirt, took six horses with
rollers, drove around the grain, and took the grain
out and put another load on, put horses around again,
all day up to the night.
“We sifted the wheat with big fanning wheels,
working up to midnight. Then we put the wheat in sacks
and carried hundred pound sacks two or three blocks
and upstairs and stored them. Five o'clock in the
morning you go out again and start up again all day
long. It was hard work. I didn’t get much sleep
in Russia.
"We had a kitchen and a stove in it. We'd butcher
hogs, and hang them in the chimney above the stove
to cure for two or three weeks. This was an efficient
use of the smoke. The ovens, or stoves, were built
inside the house. The chimney was built so wide that
on the second floor of the house, there was an opening
with a door. This is where they hung their hams, sausages
and bacons to smoke while heating the house and cooking.
But, some of the bigger boys would tie a rope around
the chest of a smaller boy, put him in the chimney
and rope him down so that they could steal sausages
and hams. They were good hams. If there was a high
chimney, usually there would be a lot of good hams.
Sometimes the boys got caught.
"In Russia you can drive two or three miles,
all on level ground. And it's black ground. No rocks,
good crops. Can't figure out why the Russians have
to buy wheat now. We raised a lot of wheat. You wouldn't
believe me. You'd think I was a liar. In the morning,
a guy came with a great whip to take the horses out,
ones they didn't use to work, and then they'd drive
them away to the pasture. Then came another man to
get the cows. He'd crack his whip so that you could
hear him coming. He'd bring the cows out, then the
little calves, little pigs, and big pigs. In the evening,
you came home and drove them in the street. Every
cow and every horse and pig went to their own barn.
Always the same place every day. Never, never did
they go away. I never seen little pigs run away.
"The man who had herded cattle on Easter brought
a big basket full of eggs and peaches. When they returned
in the evening with the cows, one of the men was sick.
Since there was no doctor around, we had to bring
the police, and he said, “Dietrich, you ate
50 eggs and are sick.” “No that's not
true,” answered Dietrich. “It was only
49.””
For further information about the Germans from Russia
Heritage Collection, Dakota Memories Oral History
Project, Journey to the Homeland Tour and donations
to the GRHC (such as family histories), contact Michael
M. Miller, NDSU Library, PO Box 5599, Fargo, ND 58105-5599
(Telephone: 701-231-8416; Email: Michael.Miller@ndsu.edu;
GRHC website: www.ndsu.edu/grhc).
March 2008 column for North Dakota and South
Dakota newspapers.
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