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(Fannie's recollection, continued) We were with the folks for 1 year. John rented some land about 2 miles away. I helped as much as I could. I ran the binder in the fall. But the horses would not go for me. I was shocking alone. But I could do that better than handle the binder. We got a pretty good crop out of it. So in the fall John went after a farm not too far from the folks. We joined the Ocheyaden Church. We were making pretty good there, but there were so many stones in the land. My mother promised if John's folks would give us a dozen chickens, they would, too. John's folks did, but we never got any from my folks. Ma would look in the catalog and say that I would get this and that, but she never kept her promises. When Ko [Emko] and Jennie moved to Sanborn, we went down there to see them. Ko knew a farm for rent at $9 an acre, a pretty good place about 4 miles from Sanborn. My folks rented a farm near town, so we made the move. But afterward we said we should have stayed on the farm by Ocheyaden; we had that on shares. That same summer it was so dry, and the Dakota dust was so bad. Bill and Pete were born on the first farm. Well, to my surprise, the banker my folks rented from, stopped at our farm. I was outside, and he wanted to see the baby. I suppose Ma had told him. But I said, "No, he is sleeping." When he asked where John was, I told him John was working behind the barn, so he slowly went away. I did not trust that man. We came back to the Sanborn farm; Henry (and Harry, I think) was born there. The last year we lived there, 2 of our best horses died from the dust. We had 80 hogs almost ready to ship. It was threshing time. I fed and slopped them, and had the cows milked. Everything was done. John did not look at the hogs until Sunday when he saw some were sick and called the vet who said it was no use to vaccinate them: they were too far gone. We lost all the hogs except one little scrub. We also lost most of our chickens. It seemed like everything was against us.
So John said, "I'm going to quit and go to Chicago. I can get a garbage job there." We had an old car, and John was taking Jennie and her kids to see the folks by Alton. Ko and John were fixing a flat tire we had on the way. Jennie was nursing her baby on the road side fender, but she thought that she'd better move to the ditch side fender because 2 cars were racing too closely. One car bumped ours, and the motor fell out. Ko got out of the way. Some of Jennie's children were in the back seat and fell out; Jennie landed in the ditch. No one was hurt except one boy had a bump on his head. One of the boys racing was the banker's son, so they settled with John and paid. They told Jennie to go to the doctor to see if everything was all right. Uncle Ko sued, and got some money out of the deal. After all this, we made up our minds to have a sale. John had debts by a banker in Melvin where we were married, and he got sick of asking him for more money. The banker told John not to have a sale, that he would lend him more money, but John said, "No, I don't want any more debts." He couldn't even pay the rent on the farm. We sold everything including furniture. Grandpa Vegter and I were getting buns ready for the lunch of the sale people. But we had a blizzard, and by daylight the roads were full: nobody could get through. So they put a long ring over the telephone. People would listen in to see what it was for; we told everyone the sale was postponed. The year was about 1930, or a little earlier. Two days after the snow storm, we had our sale. Pa paid off the bank and some of the rent money, so there was not much left. We stayed by John's folks. John left pretty quick for Chicago, but I stayed by the folks by Alton. Josie and I would walk to the post office to see if there would be a letter for me; I couldn't wait for the postman. At last a letter came. "Come as soon as you can. I got a job on the garbage truck, and I rented an apartment." Grandma Keizer had died already of cancer. I took care of her for a week. I had to ask Grandpa Keizer if he would loan us $100. He did, and Grandpa Vegter brought us to the train in Alto. He bought the tickets, and he thought I should have a sleeper with my little ones. Harry was 5 months old. At night, the black porter came and said I had to move out of my seat into an upper berth. I said to the porter, "How can I go up there with 4 small children? Can't you trade with some young man?" to see if he would take my upper bed. I told him my husband will come on the train to get me, and he will pay you. He said, "I'll see what I can do." At last he came back and said, "I got one for you." So I thanked him so much. (I had no money with me; all John had left was $200 to get to Chicago.) So the next morning I arrived in Chicago.
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