YOUNG ANNA HANSEN
The folks bought 12.5 acres of land on McKinley Road in Gresham, I was born in 1925 and they moved to that land in 1925. I imagine that it took them a year or two to build the house before we moved there.
Dad and the older brothers cleared the land. We had lots of wild hazelnut trees and gathered them by the tubs full and dad would put them in the canvas covered garage to dry over winter. We used to go to a local farm to pick walnuts and they went into the same attic to dry also. these were for winter use, and I believe that he sent some to grandma. Mom baked bread, coffee cakes, plumdoomins , donuts, maple bars, and lots of other goodies. She made large ice box cookies that probably had butter in them, They were so good. l've never found a recipe like them. When the road crew was putting in tile through our driveway, the during the ditch digging, it was when it was very cold, Mom would send me out with coffee and a large plate of cookies for the workers.
We had no refrigeration at this time so we had a 25' well down by the creek that we kept butter, and perishable goods in a bucket hanging trom a rope that we would wind up by the winch. All would be icy cold. My older brothers and sisters would winch the bucket up with water in it.
Later well drillers drilled on the slope and dad put up a derrick so the long pipe could be lifted out of the well. He had an old car without tires stationed by the well. When he ran it, a large cylinder (wound with rope like a winch) would let the rope attached to the iron pipe would unwind and let the pipe down into the well pipe. A person would stand and guide it into the well, hold onto the pipe then. When the pipe came back up (with a metal hook on it) he tifted a valve on the bottom to dump the water into a large tank. I helped; it was so boring. I know that it took at least a day maybe more. It was tedious work but the water would last a long time.
Hank and Walt would take the mule with a sled and a couple of barrels to the well and fill the barrels and leave the sled in the back yard for cleaning and washing clothes. We didn't get pipe water in the house until 1944 or later. Larry and Carsten dug the ditches and laid the pipe.
At that time Ida instigated turning the porch into a kitchen, closed off another part of the woodshed area into a bathroom and got a tub only.
We raised chickens, pigs, rabbits, and geese. We had a cow, horses and then mules and a goat. We raised potatoes (lots of them), Dad and my older brothers were heavy into digging potatoes with a digger and picking them up to haul to the house. They brought the wagon full of potatoes to the front door of the house and dumped sacks of potatoes into the cellar through trap door in the living room, What a lot of caked mud on the wood floor that had to be scrubbed off with lye water. We also had a dugout area down by pond on the high side of the hill where I can picture my older brothers sorting, (taking off the sprouts and picking out the rotten ones). The #2 taters were better than the #1 taters you get today. The #2 taters were cooked and given to the hogs. The potatoes were sold at market.
Strawberries, raspberries, wheat and hay were raised also. This was all a lot of work. Dad had a wood business that grandma (his mom) set him up in business. He paid Grandma back by selling wood. Dad and the older boys would cut down the trees, cut the wood, slit it and haul it to homes in Woodstock. I remember an old car that had a big round sawblade that they would use to saw the would for fire place length. I was warned to "stay away from here". Then one day the blade broke and that ended that.
Mom played the pump organ and enjoyed playing the piano when we went to old friends' homes. Dad always took his violin, but left it in the car if we went visiting and the friends would always say "John did you bring your violin?" He and Mom would always play. lt always sounded beautiful to me. When we went to parks on Sundays or holidays, other friends would be there. They would always bring their instruments and all would play music. People would always gather around. Us kids had a great time playing and swimming. After Dad and Mom got married the played for weddings and dances. Mom had played the organ for church.
They were Lutherans until they lived too far away from a Lutheran church, so they went to an Episcopal church, Most of us were baptized in that church. I think that most of my brothers played the guitar, accordion or mouth organ.
When I was little I can remember them playing music around a bonfire in the pasture that was cleared. Their friends were there. Mom always called me to the house as it was too late for me to be out there, it seemed to me that I didn't get to stay out there that long. When I was little, I would dance to the accordion but was too shy to dance for company. Not even candy would move my feet.
Little brother Johnny played a horn instrument and mom gave him some money each month to pay rent on it at school. Someone broke into the school and took his horn and school food. Dad taught him to play the violin and he did real well, It was hard times and my family was large everyone worked hard. I became conditioned to berry picking from seven years of age on up. My mother encouraged me to pick at least a crate for the day, but after one box l'd rather play, but the ice cream cone was too tempting.
The older I got the more I picked and that meant a larger check at the end of the season. Then my bookkeeping began, I set aside money for school clothes (they would have to last until school was out) and money for any other things I deemed necessary. No, it wasn't drudgery, People from Oklahoma came with their families to earn their livelihood (the first migrant farm workers). There also was the quaint older couple who together picked the most berries and were a joy to be around. I still remember the reply he gave when asked what church that he belonged to. I belong to the round church, oh that's the one with no corners that the devil can trap you in.
There was the couple with 6 year old boy, the mother did nothing to reprimand him, but the father was yelling at him constantly, and spanking him. (lt was hard to keep one's mouth shut). I always wondered why he did that, was he ill or had to have every penny?
Rudy Berg and his wife Ellen were great bosses. The ice cream came every day to the field. You could get a bar or soda pop compliments of the Bergs. Sometimes they bought us watermelons and that was so refreshing. To top it all off at the end of the season they would take us all to Carver Park for a picnic and all the ice cream that we wanted. Later the Bergs sold their farm and moved to the beach to try their hand at commercial fishing.
After I married and moved to Tigard, had two children, I received a call from Ellen Berg. They bought a little farm in Sherwood and wanted me to help pick berries. Steve and Curt were 9 and 10 and needed to be educated in the line of working out, earning money, and saving, (he spending part had already been learned). Up at 4am get lunches ready, breakfast made, we started picking at 6am and went home when it got hot. All the red raspberries and blackcaps were put in big cans and went to Dickinson jam on Bonita Road in Tigard.
To back track a bit I recall that when the parents of a family in the area were ill and meat was needed to feed the family, that Mom would kill a pig for them. I saw her stick geese and kill chickens. When I was very little I begged to watch on butchering day. Everyone seemed to be busy, some heating water in metal barrels, fixing the platform to slide the pigs in the barrel and prepping tin cans for scraping the pigs. When the pigs, calves, or geese were butchered, from then on I joined the group only after the critters were dead gone. The lard rendering and head cheese making came after.
I tried to help wash clothes using a wash machine that required foot power on a pedal to make it work, I only got in the way.
I have found these notes of my mom Anna Hansen and transposed them from handwritten to type, The one thing that I remember her saying was "when we butchered a pig, we ate everything but the squeal."
Steve Nodland