Eight Families - Manito Memories

Manito Memories
The Theodore and Louise Sieving Family

Introduction

It's difficult to set the stage for a collection of little stories that are treasured tidbits from the past but are not always complete and not always easy to put into the right context. I've collected these stories for the past five years or more in the bi-weekly chain letter that has now been coming to my house for about 25 years since my mother's death in 1963. If the stories seem to be strung along without transitional material, or if they jump from "we" to "they" and back again, it's because I picked them out of the letters and did as little editing as possible.

To keep the generations straight in your mind as you read this, I have used the names "Papa" and "Mama" for Theodore and Louise Sieving; "Grandfather" or "Grandmother" refers to the grandparents of Cordia, Tekla, and Ruth, who are the real authors of this material. For those of us in succeeding generations, we will have to adjust aunts and uncles to fit into the right place--most of the time they are our great-uncles and aunts referred to in the stories.

It is my hope that those of you who read this will receive as much enjoyment from it as I have had putting it together.

Eleanor Klein
Spring 1989

Our Ancestors

Our maternal grandfather, Hermann Flachsbart, was pastor in Dorsey, Madison County, Illinois when Martha Louise Sophie (our Mama) was born on April 23, 1878, the seventh child of Hermann and Louise (Steinmann) Flachsbart. She was baptized on April 28; her sponsors were Neiner Manshold, Frank Johnson, Anna Sophie Steinmann, and Sophie Lueker. Sophie Lueker was her mother's sister, who died in 1884; Anna Sophie Steinmann was her grandmother, who died in 1888. In 1899 the family moved to Cape Girardeau, Mo., where Grandfather Flachsbart became pastor of Trinity Lutheran Church. For eight years the family lived in Cape, during the growing up years of Louise and her nine living brothers and sisters, ranging in age from Martin, age 18 when they arrived in Cape Girardeau, to Johann (Jack), just one year old.

Earlier when the family lived in Dorsey, Louise was supposed to be watching the family's cow, but when she left her post, the cow got into the cabbage patch. She got a good whipping for that!

One story that Louise related about her school days in Cape Girardeau concerned a time when she got into some kind of trouble at school for something she didn't really do. But she was punished for it anyway, even though she said (in German), "I didn't do that; Frieda Schimmelpfennig did that!" (Eleanor's note: How can one forget a name like that? I remember Grandma telling this story to some old school friends who came to see her in New Minden in the late 1940s, when I was very little!).

When Grandfather Flachsbart died on March 20, 1897, the family moved to St. Louis; Louise was then almost 19 years old. She worked for a while in a laundry, doing ironing, with the irons, of course, being heated on a stove. Later she moved back to southeast Missouri and lived with her brother August (Uncle Gus), who had a bakery shop in Jackson. She worked for him and lived with Uncle Gus and Aunt Ida.

Our paternal grandfather, Ernst August Sieving, was also a pastor; he lived in Lincoln, Mo., when the second of his seven sons, Theodore (baptized Herman Wilhelm Theodor), was born on March 4, 1876. When the baby was just six weeks old he accepted a call and moved to St. Paul's Lutheran Church in Manito, the congregation which had a history of having Sieving pastors. Of the first six pastors there, four were Sievings. Papa's uncle [Herman] was first, then his father, then two other pastors [Fred Behrens and H. Ruhland], then a son of the first Sieving [Herman, Jr.], and [finally] a son of the second Sieving (our Papa). The [E.A. Sieving] family included one daughter, Martha, the youngest, and an adopted daughter, Anna, who must have been one of the oldest. Grandfather Sieving returned to Lincoln, Mo., for his last pastorate after spending some years in Manito [and Corunna, Ind.].

Family Beginnings

When Papa graduated from Concordia Seminary in Springfield, Ill., in 1900 his first call was to Zion Lutheran Church in Pocahontas, Mo., just a few miles north of Jackson, where Mama was living. Since he was not married and had to do his own cooking, he stopped in at the bakery and possibly met Mama there. We know also that there was an outbreak of a contagious disease, possibly smallpox, which cancelled services for him. So he drove to Jackson for church one Sunday, and the pastor, Rev. Langenhenning invited him to dinner. Then in the afternoon they played croquet; soon Mama and Aunt Ida came along, taking a walk by the parsonage. So they were formally introduced. It must have been love at first sight, since they were married October 20, 1901. They were married in Grandmother Flachsbart's home on Lami Street in south St. Louis. Mama said they were so poor she had artificial flowers at her wedding (but there was an increase of $100 in his salary--per year!--after getting married). On their wedding picture Mama had on a long white dress with a veil. Papa had a dark suit with a wing collar; he is sitting down while Mama in standing.

They probably didn't have a honeymoon but simply went back to Pocahontas. One piece of their new furniture was shipped from St. Louis to "Rev. T. Sieving, Neely's Landing, Mo." That piece is a chiffonnier in the possession of Cordia now. (Neely's Landing was the Mississippi River dock close to Pocahontas).

It was there in Pocahontas that Vera was born on April 9, 1904, and Ruth on August 22, 1905. When Vera was to be baptized, she was to be named Vera Louise Marie after her two grandmothers, but during the baptism Papa inserted the name Vita [between Vera and Louise]; she always used that initial "V" with her signature. Her sponsors were her uncle August Flachsbart, her two grandmothers, Uncle Albert Sieving, and a Mrs. Ludwig of St. Louis.

Sieving Family, 1906

Sieving Family, 1911

One Pocahontas story Vera told happened when it had rained a good deal and streams were swollen. In order for the family to get to the parsonage at the top of the hill, they had to cross the creek at the bottom of that hill, now full to overflowing. But Papa didn't hesitate to cross it, even though the water came up to the buggy seat and the horse had to swim across to reach the road on the other side.

Papa moved to St. Paul's in Manito in March 1907. There Cordia was born December 18, 1907, and Tekla on August 20, 1910. Tekla says she would have been named Titus if she would have been a boy.

And so the story continues in Manito, where the family lived for the next 37 years, until Papa's retirement.

The Manito Parsonage Downstairs

The parsonage in Manito was a big white frame house across the road from the church and just north of the congregation's schoolhouse. The driveway came up to the back porch from the west, so we'll enter there and describe the various rooms. The porch was screened in the summer, but in winter it had some kind of covering to keep out the cold, snow, and rain. This porch was always a mess. Among other things we had our overshoes out there.

The hand powered wash machine was also there. The water was heated on the kitchen stove, although in summer, when we did the washing outside, we also heated water outside on a little stove. First the clothes were turned in the machine, then boiled, and again put in the machine. Finally they were rinsed twice. I'm not sure if the rinse tubs were in the kitchen or the porch. If possible, some of the laundry was hung outside to dry, but it froze stiff in winter. Some was hung in the attic; other pieces were in the kitchen. When the current baby's diapers were "just" wet, Mama would hang them in the kitchen to dry out and then re-use them. But when Papa came into the kitchen, he would say, "Phew, what's that smell?"

Just outside the porch was the well with its big pump. And next to the pump was the gate to the garden. Uncle Gus Flachsbart helped with the grapes. The well served as a refrigerator in the summer since we kept perishable food in a bucket, which we let down into the well by a rope.

The kitchen had two sinks; one had a well water pump and the other brought in rain water. The cooking stove, a coal stove, did not keep the kitchen warm enough at night in winter, so Mama carried things that should not freeze into the dining room. This even included water.

On the east side of the kitchen was the pantry. it had cupboards in it and a kerosene stove which was used sometimes in summer. Later there was a collapsible bath tub in the pantry. Before that we took baths in Papa's study, since there was a coal stove in there. We pulled down the shades and hung something on the outside glass door. That worked fine for the Saturday bath ritual. When the bathtub was put into the pantry, a hole was cut into the floor and the water drained under the house since there was no plumbing to accommodate a tub. The tub had to be filled by carrying in the water by the pailful. You can imagine that we could not sink in that amount of water in the tub.

Another porch opened from that east side of the kitchen, which was the way to get to the cellar. In later years, Mama put a portable toilet in that room. She knew how to modernize the house. From the kitchen we entered the dining room. When our family was all together, we ate in the dining room. We always had a white table cloth on the table. But at night when we sat around the table it was covered with a red and white checkered cloth to protect it. Later when the family was smaller we ate in the kitchen.

In earlier years we had a hard coal stove, which burned with a beautiful blue flame. The coal was put in at the top like a stoker furnace. Before going to bed, Papa put big pieces of coal in the stove to bank it and hoped it would still be warm in the morning. Tekla slept in the room above the dining room, where she could hear the coals crackle as she lay in bed. In cold weather that was scary, since she thought of a house fire. The ashes from the stove made a mess that had to be cleaned every day. The coal buckets, sometimes four of them, were kept on the back porch.

From the dining room we could enter both the study and the living room. Papa's study had a big rolltop desk; where did that go? It also had an outside entrance for people who came to see the pastor. The living room was used only in the summer, since we did not keep that room heated except at Christmastime. A big sliding door separated the dining and living room. The first davenport Cordia remembers was a leather one, which made into a bed. Later when Mama, through Uncle Emil Sieving, got a more modern couch, the leather one served as a bed upstairs. Vic and Ana Prange used that later couch for some years. But what happened to the piano that was in the living room?

From both the study and living room one could get to the front porch. Mama always enjoyed making the porch comfortable. She spent much time sitting out there on the swing, which was not just an ordinary swing but painted and cushioned with big coil springs that made it bounce when you sat down. Eleanor Klein had this swing for many years until it had hardly any original boards left.

The living room had the open stairway. Many a time we played church on that stairway. Of course, Vera, the oldest, was the preacher. One time she spoke about the Seventh Commandment. One of her sisters asked what all of that meant. In German she said, if she would take "Villie Vogel's money," that would be stealing. Ruth, also in German, said, "I don't want Villie Vogel's money; I will use Papa's." Ruth remembers that they always had a collection. Once Ruth sat at the top of those stairs in the dark and really frightened the next one to come upstairs.

St. Paul, Manito Parsonage

The Manito Parsonage Upstairs

Upstairs there were three bedrooms, one for guests, one for our parents, and one for the children. When we were all home, Tekla and Cordia slept in the room with the parents. In trying to go to sleep they played a game. They tried to name different people with the same name, like John, that they knew. The last one to come up with a real person won the game. That room was above the study. That is where both Tekla and Cordia were born. The folding bed that we little girls used was the folding bed that Paul and Tekla Bruening still have. Vera and Ruth slept in the room at the top of the stairs, on the leather couch that came up from the living room. That room was the thoroughfare to the other bedrooms, which had a floor register, so some of the heat from the dining room came into the room. Mama drew a curtain to give that room a little more privacy, but there was still the problem of how to get to their bedroom. So, since the closets adjoined, she cut a hole through that closet wall and crawled through that hole.

The room to the right as you came up the stairs was the guest room and also the honeymoon chamber. That is where we girls spent the first night of our marriage. It was above the living room. Some winters there was a heating stove in this room. This was especially provided the winter when Grandma Sieving and Aunt Martha lived with us. I don't know how old our Grandmother was at that time, but it must have been a hardship for her to go up and down those stairs. That was a room where Cordia and Mama once tied a comforter. It had a straw matting on the floor, which later was replaced by a congoleum rug.

In the winter we used heated irons to warm the beds. Mama heated the irons on the cook stove, then wrapped them in many rags and put them between the covers. I'm surprised that the covers never caught fire. It surely helped to warm the beds, and it felt so good to put our cold feet on those irons. If we girls knew that we would get to bed late the following night, and probably would be too tired to say our prayers, we would say them twice that night to make up for it. Our mother was very understanding of this. She surely was patient, never complained, and was always satisfied wherever she was. She had gall stone attacks several times. Since heat was the prescribed treatment, and we had no hot water bottle or heating pad, we took a lid off the cook stove, wrapped it in newpapers and laid it on her stomach.

We were always a little more afraid of our Papa, but he mellowed when he was older. He wouldn't let us have playing cards like other children had since he said they were "saloon cards." We had fine Christian parents. In later years he played Rook with family members. During some Christmas holidays, Hugo, Vera, Bruno, Cordia, and Tekla played. That was fun.

Getting back to the tour, we come to the attic, which was above the kitchen. Besides hanging laundry in that room, it provided storage for our out-of-season clothes. Each of us had a white sack, probably a flour sack, which held all of our extras, which were not many. Then they were all placed in a big wooden box. We did not have many clothes and never any pants or blue jeans. In winter we had warm dresses, maybe wool. We always wore an apron over the dress when we went to school. We also wore long underwear. What a time we had to pull our long heavy black stockings over them and try to make them look smooth. We also work black short pants over the white underwear to keep it clean. Cordia remembers once walking out of church and nearly losing that pair of black pants; perhaps the elastic was worn out. One of her Sunday dresses was brown velveteen jumper with a pongee blouse that she was very proud to wear. Perhaps Mama made it; perhaps it was handed down to Tekla, since much of our clothing was hand-me-downs. We got a new pair of shoes every year that we wore for Sunday. Then the next year we would wear them to school. Either they were too big the first year or else they pinched the next year.

Everyday Life in the Manito Parsonage

Spring housecleaning in Manito was quite a chore, especially doing the upstairs rooms. All that bedding had to be carried down and washed in the hand propelled wash machine. The rugs were carried out, hung on the line and then beaten with a special wire beater. Someone had to sit in the upstairs window on the sill and wash the outside of those windows. It's a wonder nobody fell out. When you think of those days, it is almost fun to do spring cleaning nowadays. After the curtains were washed and starched, they were put on a stretcher frame that had hooks. And were those hooks sharp! Many a time you would prick your fingers working on getting those curtains onto the frame.

Life in Manito included the not-so-pleasant job of emptying the nightpot. One day when it was Ruth's turn, it was such a windy day that when she went to empty it, it flew back in her face. I wonder how we could ever live like that, she wondered. These days the health inspector would get after us.

Cordia remembers an incident that gave her a good scare. There was a glass door from the living room to the front porch. She heard a car stop so she thought she would look out to see who was there. Just as she pulled the curtain aside on the glass, the person was right there and they met eye to eye! That really scared her, even though it turned out to be Eva Stansbury.

Tekla remembers lying in bed hearing not only the crackling fire in the dining room below but also hearing the mice running between the walls.

Once a group of gypsies came and stopped at the parsonage. Since we did not want to open an outside door to them, Papa told them to go to the pantry window. Then he opened the screen just wide enough to pass some food to them. Don't remember whether he gave them any money.

Everyone had chores to do since the family had both cows and horses, also rabbits and a canary for a short time. When the family transportation consisted of a carriage for all six, they had two horses, but Cordia remembers only a few times that the entire family rode together. Later they had one horse and a one-seated carriage to use when the roads were too muddy to use the car. Cordia milked one of the two cows every day, early in the morning before school, and again in the evening. The cow had a hard time chasing away the flies. Another odd feature was that she had only three teats but one was double! The day she hated to milk that cow was on the day of the church picnic because everyone at the picnic could see her in her old clothes going out to the barn to milk. But Cordia says she loved that cow and cried when she was put on a truck to be hauled to market in Peoria. Vera also had to milk a cow; later she said that was the reason she never wanted to drink milk or every drink coffee with milk.

Everyone remembered the dog, Teddy, a house pet. He slept behind the stove in the dining room. He was allowed in the house, even though the numerous cats never were. They always had to sleep in the barn. One of the cats was named Squawky because that is just what he or she did--squawk! Teddy got himself in trouble once when he slept on the hat of the District President! Papa had requested that the president come to help solve some congregational problem, and he naturally stayed in the parsonage. Luckily, Mama and Papa were the first ones awake and discovered that Teddy had slept on that hat. So Papa brushed and brushed the hat and got it back into shape. When the visiting President was ready to put it on, he turned it this way and that way to inspect it. Teddy was like one of the family, born in the same year as Tekla. When he got old and had failing eyesight, our parents thought it best to have him shot. So Papa asked Villie Vogel to do it, but he did not have the heart to do so, knowing how dear the dog was to us. It was during the Christmas vacation when some seminary students from Springfield were visiting in the area, so they were asked to do the job. It was a wash day for us, and Papa made lots of fast movements of working the wash machine in order to maek as much noise as possible to drown out the shot. Perhaps we had a special burial ceremony for him; I'm sure tears were shed.

The first automobile came in 1915, an Empire. For the first ride in the car, all four girls and Mama sat in the back seat so Papa would not be distracted as he drove. After that car came several Fords, then Plymouths. Just once Mama got behind the wheel of the car to learn how to drive. We don't know what she failed to do, but she could not get it to move and never tried it again. Vera, however, learned to drive by trial and error. Once when Papa was not home, a storm came up and the car was sitting outside the shed. So Vera just climbed in and drove it straight ahead into its parking place. As Mama used to say, "Vera's got g-r-r-r-i-t." Vera was the one to decide to ring the church bell when World War I was proclaimed finished. She told about riding the bell rope up and off the floor as she was hanging on to give it the next tug.

In the Manito Kitchen

Mama prepared some delicious foods, which we all loved. One of them was potato dumplings. She always had them just right so that when she dropped them into hot water they did not fall apart. We ate them with melted butter on top. That would be forbidden these days--too much cholesterol. Then she made a dressing with pork ribs. There were ribs at the bottom of the pan, then dressing, then more ribs on top. Her macaroni and cheese didn't come out of a box. She baked it. That was one of Cordia's favorites.

At Christmas we had roast duck or goose with apple and raisin dressing. I don't ever remember Mama roasting a turkey. Then there was the coffee cake with streusel topping. Sometimes it had fruit, like apples or grapes on top, or cottage cheese. Did she bake cottage cheese pie? After we had our baths on Saturday we got a fresh piece of coffee cake.

When we went grocery shopping we would give the clerk the list of what we wanted. Then we attended to other business and came back later to find our groceries all sacked or boxed. Sometimes we brought eggs to pay for the groceries. We also sent for groceries from Sears or Wards. They came by freight, so when the freight agent in Manito called to tell us the freight had arrived, that was a great day.

When we went on a picnic to Pekin Park, Mama often made warm potato salad. But how did she keep it warm? Another favorite was rice pudding. Once when Cordia took her children to the park and decided to follow Mama's menu and make rice pudding, they envied the roasting wieners of the nearby picnic. And here they sat with rice pudding!

We always had plenty of milk and butter since we had the two cows. There was a cream separator in the cellar to separate the cream from skimmed milk, and Mama churned her own butter. We didn't worry about cholesterol.

We never knew what hamburgers were until the time Mama worked in the lunch stand at a farm sale, probably Vogel's sale, who lived a few miles south of us. At that lunch stand they had hamburgers; so after that, we did too. Cordia was still in elementary school at the time.

The Sieving Family, 1926

Our School Days

School days in the early 1900s were very different for the Sieving girls than for the children of today. Vera, the oldest, only remembers attending public school two years; her teaching was at home. Walking the mile or so to the Singley School was shared with other neighbor children. Cordia once dreamt that she had only five minutes to walk that mile, and she had to walk past Pete Hilst's house. Perhaps she was thinking of the time a car splashed mud on her as she walked by that house, forcing her to walk back home and change clothes. Perhaps Papa also took her to school that second time.

Cordia's first teacher at the Singley School was Frieda Gerriets. She was a Lutheran, a member of our congregation. When she started teaching, our parents told us that now we could go to public school because she was a Lutheran. Before this we were part of the confirmation winter class, our father helping us with our lessons as he had time. Frieda Gerriets turned out to be one of the worst teachers that we had. There was no discipline. Her boyfriend, Wilsey Fuller, came after school to get her. One night he walked through the school room with a pig tail attached to his coat.

Cordia recalled, "I'm not sure if Maude Tomlin or Nannie Cannon came next. I'll assume that it was Miss Tomlin. She was a good teacher. She roomed and boarded with us for part of a school year. I remember that she did a lot of crocheting in the evening. Our mother was not too anxious to room and board her. Can you imagine her living in that cold bedroom--no bathrooms? Don't remember if we even had electricity. We children felt that we were privileged to have the teacher with us. She went home every Friday night. She lived in Mason City, only about 20 miles. Now she would drive that distance every day.

"Nannie Cannon was the Catholic. She didn't spare the rod. She would whip in front of all the children. We were afraid of her. She was not our favorite. Zelma Scoot was my eighth grade teacher. Don't remember anything outstanding about her.

"In high school I remember two principals, Mr. McManus and C.A.C. Ostiguy. There was a petition out once, signed by pupils, to get rid of Ostiguy. I don't know what it was all about. Tekla and I didn't sign; those who did had to appear before the school board.

"Other teachers were Mr. Maloney, Miss Nelson, Miss Addicks, Miss Abraham, and Miss Petty. Were there others?

"Mr. Hild and our father took turns driving us the six miles to school. There were five of us, Frieda and Hilma Hild, Sarah Singley, Tekla, and me. There were a few nights, when the weather was unfavorable, that we stayed with Mr. and Mrs. Schrader. We didn't care to do that. One year Vera went with us and took a commercial course.

"The subjects I took in high school were English I, General Science (I got P's [passing] in that; the boys in the class did the experiments), Algebra, and Ancient History. I also got an E (for excellent) in conduct. The second year I took English II, Plane Geometry, Modern and Medieval History, and Latin. The third year was Shorthand, Typing, Commercial Artithmetic, English III and Latin II. The fourth year I took English IV, Physics, Shorthand, Bookkeeping, and Typing. I always got a G (good) in conduct, but I'm sure I barely passed Physics."

05 Town of Manito and High School.mp3

Concordia Prange discusses her school days in Manito with her children, Victor and Mitzi.

Country Church Life

Papa served two congregations in central Illinois. St. Paul's in rural Manito, where we lived, had morning services. On the first Sunday of the month, when there was a German service, we had an English evening service. At Allens Grove, the other parish ten mile away, there were Sunday afternoon services. In summer their service would be in the evening.

We were always well remembered by the members of the Allens Grove church. There were two sisters and one brother--none married--who always gave cash to the four of us girls at Christmas. They were Maggie, Lizzie, and Ike Harnake. One year we bought two sleds with that money and made good use of them. Harnake's had many cherry trees. We picked our share of cherries there. One summer Mama stayed up till midnight to can cherries on a hot cook stove (she didn't wear shorts, either). We had many good fried chicken meals at Harnakes. But Tekla didn't like the huge dog they had; it must have been a Newfoundland.

Another place we visited often was a certain Grandma Leinweber in the little town of Easton. When they saw us coming, her neighbors said "the German preacher with the four girls is coming to visit." She always had homemade bread but didn't use a bread board to cut it. Instead, she held it against her side with one hand and sliced it with the othe. She was 70 years old when he learned to drive a car.

Our Papa was busy with preaching at both churches and with teaching confirmation instruction--and teaching his own daughters, too. When Papa was called away and couldn't teach the confirmation class, Vera would teach the class. One day a boy recited the explanation to the Second Article. He stalled and then said, "I'm as far as the devil, and he won't let me go any farther." He was acting smart. But another time when the question was "Where was Luther born?" an honest answer given by some child was "in a bedroom!" We had no Sunday School classes in the winter, but we children were required to study the lessons anyway, write the answers to the questions and hand them in. I can still see Papa sitting at the dining table correcting those papers, Cordia remembers. I don't think he graded them, but he always wrote some comment.

Papa had some counseling to perform, such as the time he was called upon to settle an argument between brothers and sisters over money problems. He must have temporarily settled it since, a few Sunday later, one of the brothers came to the house before services with a big angel food cake. He said, "My wife baked it, but Mary (a sister-in-law) put the smear on." That was Papa's pay for helping them. Another time a couple came to our house to get married. The ceremony was performed in the living room, with several attendants, and we girls also watched. After a short visit, the new groom said, "I think it is time to go home and get to bed." (Name left out on purpose).

The congregation had an anniversary celebration (possibly the 25th) for Papa and wanted to surprise him, so the Leinweber family invited our family to dinner that Saturday, as they did once or twice a year. But that morning Vera faked a headache and stayed in bed. Mama said to Papa, "Vera has a headache and need to stay home; Ruth will stay with her." The four of us left, and then Vera got up, since the committee wanted someone of the family around in case they needed some information. Soon after dinner the phone at Leinweber's rang. It was a call from home saying that Papa should come home--no reason given. When we arrived home, he was surprised to see the many people and tables set up on the parsonage lawn for the anniversary. A service was held before the meal. His cousins Katie, Fred, and Ed Sieving from St. Louis even came for this.

The parsonage lawn was also the site for the Mission Festival and the annual church picnic. When we were children the Mission Festival was held the last Sunday in August. It was near the date of the annual picnic. There was a refreshment stand just like it was at the picnic. Everything was set up for the two at the same time. There were three well-attended services. We always had the morning guest speaker in our home on Saturday night. If I remember, that was the only mission collection of the year. We had that collection in our home for the night. One year when we had all that mission collection in our house, a car stopped during the night. We though they were after the money. But they asked directions for the road to Pekin. Seems to me there was some robbery connected to those people.

Even though there were three services on the day of Mission Festival, children didn't always go to the afternoon service. One year Cordia remembered that the girls were permitted to stay outside and play. That was unusual! At noon there was the big potluck dinner, and all afternoon the ice cream and pop stand did a good business. In the evening all the pastors were at our home for supper. Mama's dessert often was a half cantaloupe with a scoop of ice cream in the center.

Allens Grove's Mission Festival was in June, also with a big meal outside and an afternoon service. How did people keep their food cool? No one had ice chests.

At our services, all the young boys and all the young girls sat in their respective groups. We waited around in the doorway until it was almost church time and then we marched in. That was quite a procession. On the Sunday before communion [was distributed], Papa would invite the young people into the sacristy and question them about communion. We were scared. Sometimes, if we missed that, we had to go to his study in the house and announce [for communion]. We waited till the last chance. Why were we so hesitant? We never were humiliated.

Another special day at our church was Confirmation Day--Palm Sunday. For many years Mama decorated the church for that day. People would bring house plants like ferns and begonias, and she would arrange them in the chancel. The girls in the class made artificial flowers and fastened them on an arch through which the class walked. This practice has been discontinued by the time Cordia was confirmed. In Spring 1919 when Vera was confirmed, she received this letter from her sponsor, Uncle Gus.

St. Louis, Missouri

April 6, 1919

Dear Vera,

I received your nice letter and invitation to come to your confirmation next Sunday. I thank you very much for both but am sorry to say we are all too busy to get away. We will therefore wish you Godspeed and blessings for your confirmation and your life thereafter. You will soon grow up to a young lady now and will need those very lessons you are getting right now in your confirmation hours. More and more all the time it is indeed a wonderful blessing to be born a Lutheran Christian. We will pray with you next Sunday although we can't be with you. We will think of you.

Our Harold ig going to kindergarten now. He has learned by memory the Lord's Prayer, the Creed, all of the commandments and 1-2 doz. nice songs already and knows them well. He will be 6 years next Dec. Anita is working at New York Life Insurance Co., here in the city and can't get away so easy. They get 2 weeks in summer but otherwise she must be on duty every day. She wishes you good luck and hopes to see a nice big young lady some day when she looks at you. She is very busy so you will please excuse her if she don't write right away.

Aunt Ida is the same as always attending to her house duties and chasing after little Harold, who visits Pastor Schmidt or Volkenings or goes to his cousin Arnold Gihring. Sometimes also makes the rounds in the seminary once in a while. Last week he went into some rooms and told some students he would say the Creed all the way through if they would give him a penny and that way made 8 pennies, but we told him not to do that anymore.

Well, Vera, best regards to your Papa & Mama and sister from us all. I remain yours

Very truly,
Aug. Flachsbart

3627 Texas Av.

St. Louis, Missouri

P.S. Enclosed find $2.00 as a little remembrance.

Christmas in Manito

When Fall came, we had to prepare for the winter ailments by taking "Alpenkraeuter" to be well for Christmas. We used paregoric for various ailments and the Luyties homepathic medicines. Mama and Papa had what they called rheumatism.

A few weeks before Christmas our dolls always disappeared. We knew that Santa got them. Just think--Santa was in our bedroom while we slept! They would be back on Christmas morning, and each had a new dress! On December 17, the night before Cordia's birthday, we always hung up our stocking for Santa. Then we went upstairs to bed to hear if Santa Claus would come (as he usually did) driving with his sleigh bells and blowing a horn (Mama was Santa). Papa let the dog outside who chased after Santa Claus. I guess we felt sorry for Santa being chased by the dog. How old were we when we stopped hanging up our stockings?

The Christmas Eve children's service was a traditional, exciting event. One Christmas Ruth's part to say was "Mary kept all these things and pondered them in her heart." But instead of saying "pondered," she said, "pounded them into her heart."

Vera, Ruth, and Cordia practiced a song to sing for the children's Christmas Eve service. Tekla was not to be included one particular year but thought she should know the song as well as the big sisters did. So when it came time for the three to go up to the altar to sing, she went right along with them. The song was, "Sleep, My Savior, Sleep, on Thy Bed of Hay."

Cordia remembers that the Christmas Eve service ended in a way that was not as beautiful as the service itself. Instead of giving treats to all the children, a committee would go around before Christmas and ask how many bags of treats each family wanted to buy. After the service, they would call out how many bags each family bought. For instance, "Rev. Sieving--6 bags." "Joe Leinweber--4 bags." "Nick Graff--2 bags" and so on and on. When I think about that, it was not a nice ending. Think of those poor children whose parents didn't buy a bag for them.

Since Papa had two parishes, we always attended four festival services. Christmas Eve and Christmas morning services wre held in our home church. Christmas night was the children's service at Allens Grove and the festival service was one second Christmas Day. After those four services when we began our trip home by carriage down the hill from the Allens Grove church, Cordia said in German, "Now comes the Easter Rabbit!"

One Christmas (when we were teenagers??), Otto Hoffman spent Christmas with us. He was a student at the sem in Springfield and belonged to Uncle August Sieving's congregation in Minnesota. Travel wasn't as good in those days so Uncle August asked if he could spend the time with us. The poor guy--four girls! We didn't know how to entertain him, so when Papa went to town he looked for a game and came home with the card game "Pit." We played that with him. When he played, he always traded two cards. So for ever after that we mocked him by saying, "two, two, two, two, two." I often think about that when we play Pit with our children and grandchildren. I wonder, how did he take a bath in that cold house?

Tekla remembered a Christmas story that could have been tragic but, in looking back, seems quite humorous. Vera and Hugo were visiting, and also Bill was there, since he stopped at our place on his way to Milwaukee where he vicared. We still had candles on our Christmas tree. Ruth took a notion to light the cnadles, and you can guess what happened next. The tree caught fire! Bill picked up the tree complete with ornaments and carried it outside through the front porch, which meant going through two doors. At the same time Vera went to the kitchen and thought she picked up the tea kettle with water in it to throw on the flames. But when she came into the living room we saw that she had a cooking pot in which Mama was soaking some kind of beans to cook the next day. (Note: Cordia thinks it was Vera that carried out the tree and Bill that picked up the pot of beans)

Another Christmas there was a heavy snow on Christmas Eve during the night. The children's service was held but no Christmas morning service. What a long day for parents and Tekla. Did we play games? Finally, early in the evening, Cordia and Bruno managed to come all the way from Watseka with Victor (age 3) and Mitzi (age 1). That was 1935. Their car had only a manifold heater which didn't give off much heat. They stopped several times at filling stations to get warm. The roads were clear driving west. They wanted to go south at Chenoa to Bloomington, but there was a big truck across the road. The north-south roads were snow packed. Instead they continued west until they got to East Peoria. There they had to go south. They got to Green Valley, seven miles from home. There they put on chains and called the folks. They could not believe that they made it. During the night the snow plow came by the house, so the next day Bruno, Cordia, and Papa drove to Springfield to attend the double funeral service of one of the Springfield profs and his wife, who were killed in an accident [Concordia-Springfield President Henry Klein and his wife],

Baby Victor Prange's first visit to Manito for Christmas was an eventful time, although he probably wasn't aware of it. Cordia, Bruno, and Victor slept in Tekla's bedroom, where a floor register brought heat into the room. Tekla slept on a cot in the big south bedroom where Mama and Papa slept. When all were tucked in, there was the sound of something moving around--a mouse! Papa got up to try to capture the mouse; don't know what weapon he used. The Pranges heard the commotion and came into the room, too. Cordia and Tekla crawled into the bed with Mama and watched the two men moving around in their night clothes. One time Papa lost sight of the mouse but Bruno answered, "He's on the pot!"--the night pot! Can't remember if they ever caught the mouse that night!

Standing: Grandma & Grandpa Sieving and Tekla
Seated: Concordia Prange, holding newborn Victor
August 1932

Social Life

Even though we lived in the country, we had much activity. We had a Young People's Society in both congregations our father served. At these meetings we always had a topic presented; not always by our father but sometimes by other members. The meetings were held in the home. After lunch was served, we played games. Some of them were "Farmer in the Dell," "Skip to My Lou," "Spin the Bottle or Plate," "Whole Show, Half Show or No Show," "Hot Potato," "Charades," and "Who Has the Ring?" They were all simple games, but did we have fun! Sometimes if the yard wasn't big enough, we played on the road and had to step aside when a car came. But I don't remember too many cars. One time at our meeting, Nelson Hiller accused Ruth of having lipstick on. She denied it because we didn't use lipstick then.

One of the first social events in the Spring was the Ice Cream and Strawberry Festival. That was always homemade ice cream and all those delicious cakes made from scratch. One year we wanted to have a maypole dance. We tried so hard to wind those streamers around the pole but always got them twisted. Finally some experts wound the streamers, and all we had to do the night of the social was to unwind them.

The big church picnic was generally held in August. There was always a chicken supper and many people came out from Manito for that delicious meal. We had a fishing booth, a "knock down the dolls" game (formerly called nigger babies), a shooting range, and the ice cream and pop stand. Cordia remembers handling a gun once at the shooting range. Sometimes the Manito band would give a concert; there was always some kind of program. Once Mama had us sing this little song: "I don't want to play in your yard. I don't like you anymore. You'll be sorry when you see me sliding down the cellar door. You can't holler down our rain barrel. You can't climb our apple tree. I don't want to play in your yard, if you'll not be good to me." The second verse starts, "One day ..." I don't know the rest, but the two friends made up in the end. We looked forward to that picnic day.

One year at the picnic there was a play, and in the play one girl, who was the elder's daughter, wanted to demonstrate how to kiss. Our father objected to that, and what an uproar. The whole countryside knew about it. Many people came especially to see that play. I don't remember if they followed through with it.

And then there was the orchestra. Tekla played the piano, Cordia played the violin. Some of the members were the Limback twins, Bill Rabbe, Helen and Vera Imig, Hulda Vogel, Nelson Hiller, Fred Graff, and Wilamina Stansbury. To get us started we had an instructor. He was Mr. Troxell from the high school in San Jose. We paid him a little. We play at some church functions. We thought we were pretty good. It was fun.

Every year our Sunday School had an outing in Mineral Prak, Pekin. There was a lake with row boats available. Can you imagine Mama with the oars? She took her turn and never once upset. There were games and contests, a playground, and the picnic lunch. Nobody used grills in those days. Whenever our relatives would come from St. Louis, we would go to the park. The swimming pool was also an attraction. Once when Bruno went along with us to the park, Mama asked Cordia, "Do he know how to roar?" She meant "row."

Once our parents took us to the circus in Peoria. We drove to Pekin and then took a street car, calling the interurban to Peoria. We got there by 10 a.m. so we could see the parade on Main Street. We took our lunch along, as usual. In the afternoon we sat under the big top and watched the performance. That was a big day for us from the country to go to the big city.

Vacation Trips

We looked forward to visiting our cousins, the Laesch family in Bloomington, which was 50 miles. We stayed all night and came home the next day. At that time they had such a small house; I don't know where we all slept. By the time Cordia attended college in Normal and spent weekends with them, they had a newer, bigger house. All these shorter trips seemed long to us as children, since we did not have superhighways for our trips.

Another trip we always looked forward to was to go see the aunts, uncles, and cousins in St. Louis. The first trip was in the open air Model T Ford, with all four of us girls sitting in the back seat. Surely the driver couldn't be crowded by having three in the front seat. It was such a new experience, we didn't think to complain about being crowded. We planned to drive as far as Worden the first night and stay overnight with the Brandts. They lived on a farm and had no well water to drink, so we drank rainwater. Wonder how many bugs were in that water. Mama always packed a lunch for us, which probably also had her thermos of coffee. Since there were no rest areas or roadside parks, we stopped when we we came to a house with a nice front lawn. Papa went to the door to ask if we might eat our lunch on the lawn. There were no objections; that wouldn't happen today. So we ate and then drove on, when there came a rainstorm. We had to put on the side curtains, which I suppose were stored under the seats. Seems that Vera was driving at that time. So we had to stop and get ready for the rain, rearrange everything with our little bit of luggage. Some of the luggage was in a carrier on the running board; that didn't allow us to take many changes of clothes.

Going to St. Louis, we crossed the Free Bridge (MacArthur Bridge) over the Mississippi. Down Broadway we drove on cobblestone streets. As we drove down Broadway, Mama always pointed out Lami Street, where she and Papa were married. Uncle Dan Flachsbart had sent us specific directions, telling where stop signs were and anything else we needed to know, so we had no trouble driving in the city. Our headquarters was the home of Uncle Adolph and Aunt Emma (Flachsbart) Gihring on Texas Avenue. Other relatives living nearby were Uncle Karl and Aunt Anna (Flachsbart) Uhlig, Uncle Herman and Aunt Lena Flachsbart, Uncle Dan and Aunt Til Flachsbart, and Uncle Gus and Aunt Ida Flachsbart. There were many cousins.

Grandmother Flachsbart lived with Aunt Emma and Uncle Adolph Gihring in her later years. During the 1920s, when Radio Station KFUO was being planned and organized, cousin Herman Gihring was involved with much of that work. Often Dr. Walter A. Maier came to their house to talk to Herman. One day Grandmother Flachsbart asked Aunt Emma why Dr. Maier came so often. She was told that he and Herman want to build something so that his sermons will go out over the air. Grandmother Flachsbart said in German, "He must have rocks in his head."

In 1930 our Mama went to St. Louis alone to celebrate the 80th birthday of our Grandmother Flachsbart, along with her brothers and sisters. One time she took Tekla along to St. Louis, and while there Tekla got homesick for her sisters. When we knew they were coming home, we lined up all our dolls in a row against a wall to welcome her home. Among the four of us we had many dolls. When we weren't playing with our many dolls, we played this game, usually in the wintertime. We cut out pictures of people from an old Sears catalog. Then we grouped them into familes that represented some family of our congregation. Natually we all wanted to cut out the prettiest ladies for our "family."

We drove to Springfield to the State Fair when we were young, and at another time we drove to Concordia Seminary, since Papa wanted to show us where he had studied. We thought we would spend some time there. We expected to get out of the car, walk around, and see some good looking students. But no, all we did was drive in one entrance and out the other. And that was it! We went to Lincoln's Tomb that day, too, since we had our picture taken there. That trip was in the Fall of the year, and it was cold. Where should we eat the lunch that we had brought along? We ended up sitting in the Illinois Central Railroad station that time for lunch.

Having an open-air model automobile brought us some problems on the occasion of another trip in another storm. Our family of six, Rev. and Mrs. Frey, their two daughters and Bertwin of Havana once drove to Chestnut to visit Rev. and Mrs. Hein and their family. He was formerly a pastor in the area. They had a nice big yard, and we played croquet in the afternoon. After supper, when the rest of us were ready to go home, Mrs. Frey wanted to play another game of croquet. Maybe she didn't get to play in the afternoon. I believe Chestnut was east of us, probably around Lincoln, Illinois, so it was a trip of about thirty miles. Ruth, Cordia, and the two Frey girls drove home with Papa, the rest of us went in Frey's car. We had to stop to put the side curtains on the car. The lightning gave us light to see to do this. We must have thought that the storm was too severe to drive home, so we stopped at a farmhouse where we knew the people in the Allens Grove area until the storm passed. But Papa and his carload drove on; he was the brave one and probably didn't even think of stopping. When he and his four passengers got home, they wondered what happened to the rest of us. Finally we also returned to Manito. But the Freys were still twenty miles from home, so they stayed overnight. Don't know where we all slept. Of course, we had no bathroom, just one place to wash hands and face, and an outhouse. Today we would feel that we needed a bath or shower after such a day. And all because Mrs. Frey wanted to play a game after supper. Mama held that against her that we got into the storm. The next morning Mama had to get breakfast for eleven people!

Our father took some trips alone. Once he went to Chattanooga, Tennessee, to see Uncle Mannie and Aunt Flossie Sieving. I don't know how he went. I suppose by train. He brought each of us a souvenir. Cordia's is a letter opener. It has an inscription that I can hardly read. I know the one side has my name and the date, but I cannot read it. It is rubbed off. The other side says Lookout Mountain Tennessee. In the handle there is a little peephole. If you close one eye and look in that hole, you can see three scenes from Tennessee. That letter opener is always on the piano at Cordia's home.

In 1915 our father went to his father's funeral in Lincoln, Missouri. I know no details of that funeral except that the seven sons were the pallbearers. After the funeral he went home with Uncle August Sieving who lived in Minnesota. I know that he enjoyed his stay there. We have some pictures of him standing by the lake.

Cordia remembers, "In 1931 Papa, Mama, Tekla, and I drove to Indiana. We first attended the convention of synod in Ft. Wayne. While Papa attended the meetings we others shopped for a wedding dress as I was getting married that year. I don't remember if we spent a lot of time looking. The dress that I got was of chiffon material and it cost $12.95. The store at which it was purchased was Wolf and Dessauer. I still have the sales slip in my memory book.

"After the convention we drove to Corunna, Indiana where Papa preached. I am not sure if it was an anniversary or Mission Festival, but I think it was an anniversary. Papa's father had been pastor there. He has a little brother buried there. I think his name is Paul [NB: There is no record of a brother Paul or one buried in Corunna]. Both going and coming home from Indiana we drove on Route 24 and came through Watseka, Illinois. Little did I know at that time that some day I would be living in Watseka."

In addition to our trips we also had many visitors. Cousins, aunts, and uncles came from Bloomington and St. Louis to visit us. Some of those who came were Pauline Laesch, and Martin and Stella Flachsbart and their son Paul, all from Bloomington; Anita and Harold Flachsbart (Uncle Gus' children); Arnold, Gertrude, and Mathilda Gihring (Aunt Emma's children); and Reinhold Uhlig (Augst Anna's son). Then there was Uncle Herman and Aunt Lena Flachsbart and some of their children. Uncle Dan and Aunt Til Flachsbart and their children Rhoda, Robert, and Edward, who came almost every year.

These visits were always in summer and was a lot of cooking for Mama. It irritated her when they would say, "We brought our old clothes," since they figured they would save their new clothes or not want to get them dirty. It is a wonder that they always came back since we had no bathroom or other facilities. When we had so much company, the problem of taking turns at the outdoor bathroom facilities was solved by Arnold Gihring. He found a bottle with a cork, put it by the kitchen door leading to the outside. If the cork was off the bottle, that meant that some was already visiting "Uncle John" or Aunt Mary."