Hank Vegter recalled, "Neighbors used to say of the boys,
'Here come's the Vegter army.' "
Last Reunion of the "John Vegter Army"
Hank & Violet's 50th anniversary
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Hank Vegter recalled, "Neighbors used to say of the boys, 'Here come's the Vegter army.' " |
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Last Reunion of the "John Vegter Army" Hank & Violet's 50th anniversary |
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(recollections by Ron Vegter, July, 2010) I remember the Jess Harris farm on Island Road outside of Delavan. When mom and dad shucked corn in the fall, I had to be careful sitting in the wagon, or I might get hit by an ear of corn. I remember butchering a horse there. I don't know why, or what they did with it. It was at the Harris farm that I drove a car through the garage: I knew how to drive it; just didn't know how to stop it. I remember thresherees when we moved to Elkhorn. Someone owned a threshing machine; each farmer paid for that. 10-15 farmers would arrive at the farm after milking. The grain was already shocked, and men would bring grain to the thresher. Women came about 10:00 a.m., bringing food and cooking the meal. We ate around noon on picnic tables; wives brought extra tables. We ate a big meal: roast beef, fried chicken, mashed potatoes, pies, and homemade bread. Everyone quit around 5:00 p.m. to go milk. Threshing lasted 5-6 weeks. Farmers owned a mix of horses and trucks. Dad had a watermelon patch. In the afternoon we'd crack open a watermelon and eat it. Once, John and Joyce and their friends decided to coon dad's patch; they crossed the pasture and creek from the next road up and went a half mile to get back to the patch. Dad could never figure out who was stealing his watermelons. We milked cows when we moved to County M. Dad owned a John Deere B and F20 Farmall with a two bottom plough. It took forever to get anything done. Dad was cheerful and happy-go-lucky except when he was worried. I remember coming up behind the outhouse sometimes and hearing auctioneer talk; dad was "auctioning off" one thing or another from his farm. He was always "looking at the clouds," worrying about the weather. In winter, we'd take a bath just on Saturday nights. Using our coal and wood burning stove with its single vent pipe, mom heated water for the tub which sat in the middle of the kitchen floor; we bathed from oldest on down, so I was the last to use the water. Summers, we rigged up a shower in the milk house. Dad always sat in the corner, knocking ashes out of his pipe onto the wood pile, and throwing the ashes over his shoulder. The house was so cold in winter; snow lay on the blankets in the morning. We milked cows by hand. In the basement, I turned the separator by hand to get cream to make butter. Lots of service people came and bought butter and eggs. Saturdays all the brothers came out pheasant hunting. Once, Dad looked out the window and saw 2 rooster pheasants in his barnyard. He shot into the chickens and killed both rooster pheasants. After he killed them, he came around the corner holding up the pheasants and telling some story about how he shot them. He didn't tell that he had also shot five of his own chickens. When Darlene and I started going together, we played cards with mom and dad. We would cheat at cards with our parents, but they never knew it. There were big fights over kids going with anyone outside of Christian Reformed. Hank started that with Vi. Then Florence married John, a Catholic; Frank married a Lutheran. Darlene made it tough because she was RCA. After mom and dad moved into Delavan, dad took a job digging ditches (by hand) and laying sewer pipes. Mom worked at Borg Instruments in Delavan, and, along with Florence, cleaned cabins for Lake Lawn Lodge. |
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(afterward by Theresa, Florence, and Joyce) John died April 2, 1983 and Fannie February 14, 1989. They each were in a "home" the last 6 weeks of their lives. They are both buried at Winter Haven, Florida. At the time of Fannie's death, there were 46 grandchildren and 69 great-grandchildren. There are now (1999) 107 great-grandchildren and 14 great-great-great grandchildren. |