Sunday, March 30, 2008

In My Memory

by Carl Paul Graupner
[Letter to Jim Graupner, 24 February 1988. The letter has been edited by Jim Graupner for grammatical usage and ease of reading.]

The farthest I can go back in my memory is when we lived in Dortmund-Dorstfeld when I was about four years old, first in an old house, then the company built a block of new houses, maybe five homes together like in a condo. That was open country, so all the friends we had were few, but all in these homes.

When I was five and a half, Dad took a new job in Oberhausen, at the Zeche Roland Coal Mine; that colliery was a new field or coal area. But, we moved first to Muhlheim-Dumpten, which was even closer to the mine than where we lived in Oberhausen. In Dumpton, I first started school when I was six. That year [1914] was also the beginning of World War I. The school was nearby, and the training field for soldiers was also in that area, so we could watch them a lot. Dad was not called up for military duty right away.

We did not live in Dumpton long, before we moved to Oberhausen, to another block of houses that the [Zeche] company owned. There we lived until I came to America. My dad was called into service soon after, in 1916, but he never got to the front; he was a training officer (Sergeant) not really so far away, so he came home often (the name of the town was Paderborn). I then went to grade school till I was 10. After examinations I attended the Oberrealschule in Oberhausen. That School and the Church I was confirmed in are still standing--even after World War II.

In Oberhausen, during World War I, Dad had a stable built in back of our house where we kept a sheep, pig, chickens and rabbits. So, I became acquainted with animals. We had a big garden about 3/4 mile from the house, so we always had feed for the animals. Also, there were places where we could stake out the sheep.

In the summer of 1917, the last year I was in grade school, they asked children if they would like to work on farms for their board in Pommern. I didn't know at the time how far away that was, but I said "sure." I said nothing at home right away, but I was always ready for adventure, and I was not sure if the folks would let me go. But, my fears were relieved, for they let me go. It was always one less mouth to feed. Oh, did I enjoy that.

Funny thing is, I don't remember the train ride that much; or how long it took. The first stop I remember was Stettin (Seczein), where we all got off. We were in a large building where we could stretch and where we were served milk and milk biscuits, and Oh, it was so good.

Funny thing. I don't rmember the train ride that much, or just how long it took. The first stop I remember was Stettin [Szeczine], where we all got off. We were in a large building where we could stretch and we were served milk and milk biscuits and oh, it was so good.

The resto of the trip was much better. The train stopped often then and let off children [apparently, Philip related, Carl didn't know any of the children]. The town where about ten of us were taken off was Plauen, in Kreis Slave [Slawno]--that's something like a county. We were picked up by wagon and horses and taken to the village, which was away from the railroad track.

When we arrived, the people came out and picked out whom they wanted. I should have yielded to the rules, for a lody wanted me, but I refused, for I got acquainted with the boy who came with the wagon. he told me they had three horses [on their farm]; that was the drawing card I needed; also, the people [Garbe Family] did not ask for a boy, they had three of their own. But the Garbes took me in anyway; all four of us boys slept in one big bed. So there was no problem.

Of course most of the men in the village had to go into the military service, but Mr. Garbe came home once in a while. The village had nine Russian prisoners of war and Garbes had one of them--a strong young man whom I got to like very much. he took care of the horses and his bed was in the horse barn. And he, being the only grown man there, did all the work which required horse power.

The women took care of the cows and pigs and chickens. They also did all the milking. The families and livestock were kept in the village. There was one big main street and on both sides, the farmers' baurenhofen were located.

The buildings were situated in a circle, with the big barn to the street and a big, high gate which was only open during the day. From the inner yard you could go into all the stables. The house itself was to the back but a little apart from the stables. The manure pile was in the center of the yard. It was made like a dish, so the water would not spread out. The yard was paved all around with stones. So the land was spread out, some of it quite a ways.

There were no fences anywhere. If you pastured the cows, someone had to stay with them all the time. Such was my job from seven in the morning to about 12:30 noon.

Then the cows came home for water; later one or two of the boys took them out again in the afternoon. Then I could do what I wanted, but mostly I went along in the fields and helped at whatever I could. Most everything was done by hand anyway. Even the raking of the hay; and typing grain or digging potatoes. They did have a grain cutter drawn by horses, but the cut grain had to be tied by hand and shocked. I got no money, but I did not need any except once when the cirsus came to town. Mr. Garbe gave me a quarter, which I spent riding a horse Merry-go-Round.

Those were wonderful days and weeks. I never thought of home or wrote even though my mother sent along a pack of stamped cards. All to my sorrow, when I found out I could have stayed two months longer with ermission from my arents. But that experieince stayed with me and was my main reason to become a farmer someday. And through the war I learned much about the United States, and that's where I wanted to go.

A letter from Frank Boser

My parents had friends by the name of Rehns, they had three children, the oldest of whom was Ernst. He was in the Merchant Marines. He happened to be on this side of the ocean when the war was declared, so he stayed here [United States]. He lived in New Jersey and became a painter. He used to visit his folks every five years and always came to see us. I like him very much, but I thought maybe someday I would talk to him about my going to the United States. But it never came to that.

One day the folks got a letter from Frank Boser, a first cousin to my father; he somehow had out address. Frank's mother and my grandmother or father's mother were sisters. I don't know anything aobut them, but they also came from Sachsen.

But this great aunt of mine was already married in Germany because Frank and Agnes were born there and came here when very young. I never heard when they immigrated to this country, but they had three more children in this country that I know: two boys and one girl. One of the boys was Bernhard who lived in Green Bay; the other boy, Aughust, married and lived in Kaukauna. They were both papermill workers. The girl, Lizzi, lived in Milwaukee.

Frank had his farm in West DePere. Agnes married Dan Leininger who was a harness maker in DePere. Frank, in his letter to us, asked for information as to family history. He was more interested because he was born there. On further correspondence he asked if anybody was interested in coming to the U.S. Of course, that was something I hoped to hear, so I begged to go.

The time was really bad int he early 20's because of inflation. We had a lot of worthless money. It was so bad that workers were paid twice a day so they could spend it before it lost its value.

I wrote to Frank and he offered to buy tickets for two and we could pay him back, because they were really poor themselves. He had only 80 acres which included some woods; and their sixth child was born the smae month I came there.

So we were all set!

First my father thought he ought to cfome with me, but how could he? So my sister Ida decided to come with me. We always got along together well. She was 21 at the time.
When I think back how everthing worked out that time. We thought we could come together on one passport, but immigrants were under a quota, and we found out almost too late that the German quota was filled with one person. So, by inquiring, we found that I could enter on the French quota because I was born in Lorraine, which became French territory after the Treaty in 1918.
But, so we each needed a passport, but the time was so short that the photographer could not give us a picture for the passport unless I had a negative. As it so happened, I had gone to him for a small picture the year before to surprise my parents; so, if we could find theat negative, we would be all right. Ida and I asked permission to look for it. The photographer had a room that was just fuilled with negatives; but we found it, knowling about what time it was taken.

We got the picture and they wtold us that we could go to Cologne (Koln) to the Immigration Office at the embassy and they could make a copy of the one Ida had. So we were all set! We were booked on the Albert Ballin (Hamburg-American Line). When it was time, Dad took us to Hamburg. We had to be there tow days ahead of time to get our shots and everything in order. It was kind of a sad farewell in Oberhausen--and also when we left Dad behind. We left from Cuxhafen, right on the coast, because the big liners could not come as far as Hamburg. We left on the 27th of September and arrived in New York on the 9th of October, 1923.

From Ellis Island to Wisconsin