Christmas

We all have our own memories of Christmases past - those special holidays with family and friends while growing up. There are so many of those memories going through my head right now, I don't even know where to begin. So, how bout Christmas Eve?

In New Leipzig, Christmas Eve could be cold, very cold - after all, it was North Dakota don'tcha know. Sometimes we'd get snow. Other times not. Not so different from a lot of places around the world. But, for us, Christmas Eve in New Leipzig was our world.

Growing up in this small community on the prairie of North Dakota meant a lot of preparation in the weeks prior to Christmas Eve. Every church in town had its youngsters prepping for "the program" - arguably the most important event of the year for many of them. Memorizing "pieces", practicing singing Christmas carols, doing everything according to "plan", admiring the gigantic Christmas tree in the front corner of the church sometimes off to the right, sometimes off to the left - it all depended on whether or not the piano or the organ was going to be obscured.

In homes all around town, decorations would go up both inside and outside. Contests were held to see who could do the best decorations.

Inside the home, it was much more private. In our home, Mom went all out most times. The living room was a statement in festivity. Stringers hanging from the lights, ornaments everywhere (not just on the tree). Favorite and sentimental baubles came out for the first time all year.

But, the tree. The tree had to be bought. We couldn't just go out into the forest and cut down our own tree. It was either that, or an artificial tree. Our home didn't see artificial trees until we were more grown up. Some of those artificial trees were pretty gawd awful thinking back on it. Even some of the real trees that Mom decided needed to be "flocked" - oh, the trends of the times.

Anticipating Christmas Eve was an adventure in and of itself. Decorations were up, gifts were under the tree except for those coming from Santa.

We'd all pile into the car ready and eager to get the church program over with to be able to get back home. That's when Dad "forgot" something inside the house. Seemed like every single year in memory, Dad would "forget" something inside the house and tell us to stay in the car - that he'd be right back out. And, sure enough, a few minutes later he'd show up, get in the car, and we'd be off to church.

The program would invariably go off without a hitch. All the kids would get up and recite their own pieces in front of a packed congregation, and most would get through them in spite of their stage fright and jitters. I still picture in my mind's eye the bright lights dimming to show off the Christmas tree. There would be a silence in the congregation as everyone contemplated just what the Christmas season and message meant to them. The whole thing ended with the congregation singing Silent Night.

Then it was over. As we filed out we were each given a paper bag. It contained peanuts, an orange, a little bit of candy, and maybe even something else - a small gift, but treasured none-the-less.

Back home once again, we'd be amazed at Santa's timing. Wow! How'd he know we'd be at the church and be able to fit everyone in town into his scheduled stop? Guy was awesome!

Most all of those Christmas Eves were spent together with the Rieger clan. We'd wait for them to arrive before opening any of our gifts, and after that was done and we had enough time to digest what we'd just gotten, we'd head out to the farm to share in their Christmas joy.

Boy, when I think back on it, it must have been really hard for Gail, Bonnie, Clyde, and Fonda to have to wait for us to get done with our gift opening knowing they had their own to get to 12 miles away from there.

And then it was over. The gifts were opened. The wrapping paper was cleaned up. Well, sort of anyway. And we were off to the farm where everything was repeated for the Riegers.

By the time we got home, us kids would be pretty much tuckered out. Our family tradition was to open gifts on Christmas Eve instead of on Christmas morning. I don't know how many other families did that in our town, but I'm sure some waited. But we knew we didn't have to get up bright and early to open gifts from Santa because he'd already come the night before while we were at church. Oh, wait....was that a conspiracy our parents concocted so as to be able to sleep in on Christmas morning? Didn't matter - they got woke up anyway because we were downstairs busy making as much noise as we possible could playing with our new toys.

Christmas Day was rotated amongst and between families every year, and I gotta tell you we had a LOT of families to rotate with. So, it was always a feast of unbelievable proportions. Of course, we could all eat a whole lot more then than we can now, so the meal was prepared, everyone sat around multiple tables and filled our faces until we couldn't stuff any more in.

In our younger years, we (the kids) would then adjourn to play with each other's toys. In our older, teen years we'd adjourn to watch football or ask for the keys to the car and go driving around wasting gas.

Sometimes, when Christmas was at the farm, we'd go ice skating on the creek down below the house. It'd be so cold, our toes would feel frozen before we'd come in to warm up. That's when the home-made ice cream came out. And that must be where I got my love of ice cream. Katherine tells people I can eat ice cream while sitting in a snow bank and still enjoy it, and she's right. I LOVE ice cream, especially topped with homemade chokecherry syrup.

On those cold, very crisp Christmas Day nights when it was finally time to go home, the thing I remember is how crisp the air was, how the moonlight sparkled on the unspoiled snow, how that snow crunched underfoot as we made our way back out to the car that Dad had started to let it warm up before leaving, and how silent it was - so very, very quiet.

Regardless of how much fun we have about North Dakota, its treeless plains, it's rolling hills, its biting, stinging cold, its blizzards, and its desolation (to some), these are some of the warmest memories I have of a wonderful childhood with family and friends.

Merry Christmas everyone! And, a very happy New Year, as well!

Ft. Sauerkraut, Part 4: Northern Indians Come to Rescue; Raber Holds His Scalp

In this last of a series of four parts to this story I hope the message becomes clear: Although limited by existing technology, the settlers in the Hebron area were still beset by fear and paranoia surrounding what ultimately turned out to be a false alarm. The fact that flames were fueled by rumor and false information, rampant racism and lack of cultural knowledge, and ultimately the fear and paranoia that go hand in hand with all of this really shouldn't be lost on any of us. After all, isn't that something we still face all too often even today?

The "moral" of this story, however, should also include the fact the settlers and the Northern Indians had much more in common than they actually thought. With a little camaraderie and reaching out to each other, these two protagonists "learned" this fact.

Northern Indians Come to Rescue; 

Raber Holds His Scalp

During the following intense days men rode about on the hills on the watch for Indians. All eyes were turned to the south and east as it was supposed that they would come from that direction.

One day somebody happened to notice a peculiar looking cavalcade in a cloud of dust advancing from the north. Some at first thought, judging by the numbers, it must be a company of soldiers coming on horseback; yet, it seemed strange that so many soldiers should come unannounced. Word of this sight was quickly passed along and many people gathered at the fort hill and elsewhere to see who their rescuers could be, when suddenly some outrider hastening back reported that they were all Indians coming straight this way. There was a flurry and rush for safety as the people fled to the shelter of the fort walls to await the expected attack.

But as the Indians came steadily nearer Swen Swenson, who knew something of their ways, observed that they all had their feathers set in a way to indicate peace. This tended to abate the fright of some but others had their doubts.

At last the Indians came to a halt at a respectful distance and made signs for a parley. A few who could speak a little of the white man's language advanced to meet some of the most courageous who went out from the fort to parley with them. The Indians assured the people here that they meant no harm, but had come to help them fight the Sioux who were supposed to be coming. They were from the Ft. Berthold reservation where they had heard of the outbreak from Standing Rock. The latter Indians had been ancient enemies of the Ft. Berthold Indians. They, too, feared that if Sitting Bull was leading a large army of warriors to Canada, he would probably pass through their reservation and attempt to force them to join him, or else make short work of them on account of their inferior numbers. They had concluded in a council to come to Hebron and join the white men here and make a common defense with them.

The people were glad to hear this, although some of them could not overcome their suspicion and fear of treachery. Some even thought that the northern Indians were probably planning on joining the southern Indians and make common cause with them in exterminating the whites. The friendliness of the Indians, some of whom were known here as having traded at local stores, gradually overcame most of the suspicion on the part of the people here, and they mingled freely among them. They examined the fort with curiosity and by signs tried to make themselves sociably understood.

One of the Indians, named Sitting Crow, standing in the midst of some workmen was asked how the Indians scalped people. Not being able to explain in words, proceeded to demonstrate by motions, and drawing his knife, with a few jumps and horrible grimaces suddenly seized George Raber by the hair and passing the butt of his knife around his scalp with a dexterous movement of the hand showed the bystanders how it was done.

Raber, not expecting or understanding it, was so frightened that he nearly fainted away and on recovering from his astonishment felt around on his head to see if his scalp was still on, to the great amusement of the spectators.

After some days word was received that there was no immediate danger of attack by the southern Indians. Gradually the people returned to their homes; although many remained in town for some time after that or came back to town at night.

When the Kindsvogels returned to their home which they had so hastily left they found that the pigs had smelled the buried sausages and had rooted them all out and feasted on them. They had uncovered all the meat and were dragging it about the yard.

Wm. A. Davis had been herding sheep out about where the Urban ranch now is. He was alone and knew nothing of the Indian scare until someone told him after it was all over. However, he could not refrain from thinking about his possible danger and was more on the alert after that.

One day he saw a dark feathered object on the crest of a hill that seemed to move. It looked to him as though it were an Indian looking over the valley. It turned out to be a large eagle as he saw it fly away. There were numerous eagle catching holes on the hilltops out there in those days.

A few weeks later Fer. Leutz wet to Dillon, Mont., where he purchased 2500 sheep. These were driven overland to Whitehall where they were loaded in cars and shipped out here. As the train passed through the western part of this state and the Bad Lands many men were seen patrolling the railroad tracks armed with rifles. They said they were on duty to guard the railroad property from possible Indian depredations.

In the meantime the little band of Indians who by leaving their camp at the Standing Rock reservation had brought about the exaggerated reports of their outbreak, had gone southwest to join the camp of Chief Big Foot on the Cheyenne River. Big Foot had resolved on going back to the shelter of the Black Hills rather than parish (sic) by starvation on the reservation.

On a cold December day he and his little band of 375 men, women and children met a party of soldiers at Wounded Knee Creek near the present Interior, S.D. The soldiers told them they would escort them to the reservation where they would be given food. The Indians lined up and surrendered their rifles, whereupon the soldiers surrounded the band and began to shoot into them. In their enthusiasm to make "good Indians" they shot a number of themselves in the cross fire.

When the shooting was over the dead Indians lay in windrows, the soldiers in the American uniform were finishing the work with the bayonet on the women and children. It was the 7th Cavalry that did this work. They had been near Custer's battle fourteen years before and wanted a chance for revenge. Such school books as mention this episode at all refer to it as the "battle" of Wounded Knee.

After this great victory was reported the people in and about Hebron felt more secure in their homes. The fort was abandoned and in the course of time became jocularly known as Ft. Sauerkraut. It was so named in after years, according to one version, because Charles Krauth, not being accustomed to manual labor, is supposed to have made the remark, "Die Arbeit Kommt so sauer"; while the other is that is was a characteristic name for a German product. It stood for years as a grim testimonial of the days of the Indian scare, but after George and Louis Kohne acquired the land they threw down the walls in order to utilize the land. and years afterward Otto Schlenvogt leveled it off still more.

And so ends this particular tale of Ft. Sauerkraut. 

Memorial Plaque:



There are many "hits" on Google if anyone would care to learn more about Ft. Sauerkraut. The photo above was taken from a blog I found just by typing in the words, "Ft. Sauerkraut" in the web browser.