The following is from “As I Remember Scott County,” a collection of oral histories from Scott County’s senior residents in the 1980s. Carol Rybak of New Prague shares her memories of childhood and family history in Scott County. It has been slightly edited from the original for clarity.
My grandfather, Christian Fischer, and my grandmother, Theresa Birkman, were married in Scott County in 1858. They were both born in Germany and immigrated to the United States after the German Revolution in 1848. They met in St. Paul and decided to be married and homestead in Scott County. Their marriage was unique. Her was Lutheran and she was Catholic, and beacue there were few priests or ministers around at that time, they were married by the Justice of the Peace. They agreed that all boys born to the union would be baptized Lutheran, and all girls, Catholic.
They selected 160 acres about four miles east of Jordan. They built a log cabin and started to clear the land. Two sons were born to them at two-year intervals. Clearing the land was difficult, so my grandmother helped as much as possible. They left the baby asleep in the cabin and took the older one with them. A spark flew out of the fireplace, set the cabin on fire, and the baby died in the fire. Their grief must have been inconsolable. The child was buried in the woods where it was thought a church would be built. The cabin was rebuilt with the help of the community, but things were not the same.
After the Civil War, a law was passed enabling any man who had served in the Union Army the right to homestead land. A man by the name of Rohs had homesteaded a piece of land 1 ½ miles east of Jordan. He was a bachelor and had no interest in keeping the land, so he sold it to a man named Rodell, who, in turn, sold it to my grandfather, and the family move there. I still have the original papers signed by President Lincoln and his secretary, Stoddard.
There were rumors at that time that the railroad going west would run through the Minnesota Valley and also that a mill was being erected on Sand Creek. This made the location very desirable. Another cabin was built in the new place, and three more sons and two daughters were born. My father was the youngest of the children. My grandfather died of typhoid fever when my father was two years old. This left my grandmother with six children and a farm. The oldest boy, John, was fourteen years old. She was determined to run the farm, even though people advised against it. She was successful.
When John was eighteen, he decided to go west to seek his fortune prospecting for gold, silver, copper, etc. He roamed the mountains and discovered a vein of copper in Montana. He sent back such glowing accounts of success that the next brother joined him. This left George, who was married, to run the farm. My father was the youngest son and he was restless to join in the adventures of his brothers. He was there a short while, when John had an offer to sell his mine claim to the Anaconda Mine Company. It was too tempting to ignore. John came back home to visit his mother, then took a trip around the world. Of all the places he had seen in his travels, he decided that the Willamette Valley in Oregon was the most promising, so he bought 640 acres of land and settled there. Fred and George bought land near Merriam Junction, and my father came home to live with his mother and run the farm. Again, the house burned, and they built a big, square house of the usual type of that time.
My father called square dances with the Haigie Band, and it was at one of these dances he met my mother. She was a pretty, dark-eyed girl, and he was a tall, blue-eyed man. They fell in love, were married, and went to live in one half of the square house. It was a great arrangement because my grandmother helped take care of my sister, me, and my baby brother.
Grandmother was a marvelous woman. She was very intelligent and read everything available. She spoke and read English and knew endless stories to entertain us. She died when I was five. She was seventy-five years old when she died, and I still remember how dark her hair was against the white pillow sham.
We lived on that farm until I was in high school. My father injured his back and my mother decided to sell the farm. That farm house has so many memories for me.
We celebrated Christmas with gusto. There was always a big Christmas tree in the parlor. The tree had long strings of candy which wound around like garlands, candies wrapped in foil, beautiful ornaments, and dozens of candles. My mother and father decorated the tree after we were sent to bed, and they would wake us when it was finished. They set a pail of water on each side of the tree in case of fire. After we had admired the tree in its glory, the candles were extinguished, and then we enjoyed our gifts. There wasn’t much sleep that night, because at that time, instead of Midnight Mass, we had mass at 5:30 a.m. We usually walked to town to mass and so did many of the neighbors. It was wonderful trudging through the snow on a glorious Christmas night with everyone happy and shouting greetings.
Birthdays were a big celebration too. There was always a special meal and a big birthday cake. One birthday I remember especially was when my mother went to visit my father’s sister, who was sick. My father did not know how to bake a cake, so he made popcorn balls. I came home from school to find a huge pan of popcorn balls and a gift for my birthday.
Fourth of July was another holiday. There was always a picnic at the park and we each had a dollar to spend. It was so difficult to decide what to buy. There were so many tempting things.
The Harvest Picnic was a neighborhood celebration. We all drove out to Fish Lake and shared a huge potluck dinner. The men fished and played cards and the women set out their most delectable dishes, exchanged recipes, and gossiped. After everyone had too much to eat, all was packed up, because everyone had to get back home to do the chores.
In winter we had Wurst parties. There were no freezers in those days, except the great outdoors, and those temperatures were not dependable. All meat for the rest of the year was prepared at butchering time. In our area, everyone made sausage. It was canned, fried in lard, eaten fresh, or smoked. Whenever a family finished making their sausage, they would invite the entire neighborhood, and there was a big party that lasted until early morning. They came by sleigh or on foot. The early part of their evening was spent playing cards or just chatting. Then, a big supper was served of the sausage, potato, beans, salads, rolls, cakes, and cookies. Finally, the largest room in the house was cleared and the dancing began. One neighbor played the violin, and his wife the piano, and Father called the square dances. It was great fun and all had a wonderful time.
Every year, we went to the Carver County Fair. We met my Uncle Fred and his family at the ferry, then went to the fairgrounds. It was so exciting to cross the river on the ferry. It was a large, flat platform with a gate at each end. There was a thick cable strung from shore to shore and attached to large trees. The horses and wagons were driven on to the platform, and the ferry man pulled us across with paddles attached to the cable. We looked at the fair exhibits, watched the performances, and went back by ferry at dusk. It was great!
Ferry between Shakopee and Chanhassen/Eden Prairie, 1879-1880. SCHS Collection.
Not too many years later, Jordan managed to institute a fair too. We got season tickets for the family and went to the fair every evening. We saw the same performances, saw the same exhibits, and ate soup at the Lutheran stand before we went home. It should have been boring, but we all enjoyed it. My sister, who loved to cook, baked up a storm and entered pies, cakes, and cookies. My mother had her hand work, and my brother and I groomed every animal that looked healthy for the fair. My father was on the fair board and thought it looked better if all the stalls were filled even though they were not exhibition stock. The parade was the highlight of the fair. Every business sin town had a float and sent a band around. It was a gala affair!
That farm and the square farmhouse have so many memories that it would take pages to tell. The wonderful woods where we played and picked strawberries on the hillside, the clumps of blackberry bushes, the thorn apples and grapes we ate on our many excursions, and the trips to Helena on a Sunday afternoon along the railroad track to buy candy with the neighborhood kids, are just some of them.
I don’t know if everyone raised on a farm feels as I do, but to me, it was a wonderful experience. We lived near enough to town that we did not feel isolated. We walked 1 ½ miles to go to St. John’s School and had some excellent teachers. I especially remember Sister Andrina. She was a tall, stately, dignified, intelligent woman and a thorough teacher. She allowed us to advance according to our ability and used methods far in advance of her time. We had music, but none of us displayed any talent, though our parents tried. I enjoyed going to school, so the days passed by quickly and now they are only memories.
Cover Image: Aerial photo of the Whitlock-Tiegs farmstead in Belle Plaine during the late 1930s. While not Carol’s family’s farm, it may have been similar to the one she grew up on. SCHS Collection.