The Sandhills

The Sands of the Kalahari, The Desert Fox, High Plains Drifter - These are just a few of the 'role' model movies we had growing up in a small rural town in North Dakota by the name of New Leipzig. What makes these three unique is they all involve desert filming.

We didn't have deserts in New Leipzig - not even close. But we did have the Sandhills, our own little enclave of sand formations and sandy ground in between those formations where we played as kids, and took on roles we saw in movies, and, yes, even some on television (we're not THAT old, don'tcha know).

It took quite an effort to find the Sandhills on Google Maps, but it's there:

That's the Cannonball River to the left of our little 'movie set'. This image doesn't even show Highway 49 off to the right, but it's there, too.

For anyone wanting to visit the site on Google Maps, you can do so by following this link:

Sandhills of New Leipzig

For the uninitiated, the Sandhills of New Leipzig aren't the Sandhills of Nebraska by any stretch of the imagination. Nor are they the Kalahari Desert, the Sahara Desert, The Great Sand Dunes of Colorado, or any of a number of deserts in our U.S. Southwest so many of us are familiar with from both movies and TV. In fact, they really aren't 'hills' either....more of a small canyon, actually. But they were magical to us - they 'became' those famous and infamous deserts in our active imaginations, and that's really all that matters.

They're on private property, but that didn't ever stop us, as kids, from visiting and exploring their wonders, their own kind of splendor, their own kind of mythical romance. We made up our own ghosts, our own legends, our own characters, our own games with unmatched enthusiasm and imagination. And those hills were a LOT bigger to all of us as children than they are now to us as adults - that's for sure.

The games we played often times spilled over onto the rather steep incline at the 'mouth' of the formation down to the Cannonball River far below. Well, maybe not so terribly far, but far enough to let us imagine it was a virtually unscalable cliff which meant certain death if we slipped or lost a foothold or handhold.

After our death defying descent to the stream below, into the trees along the riverbanks we would go, their shade providing a reprieve from the hot desert sun burning, searing ever present overhead, carrying our imaginations with us, extending our games into more hospitable environs, oases if you will, as we went.

The climb back up just as arduous and dangerous as the descent, we'd eventually reach the mouth of the hills, themselves. Sort of like entering the Hole in the Wall in Wyoming. The problem then became one of whether we were the 'good guys' or the 'bad guys' - each fraught with their own individual advantages and dangers.

These games were never ending - that is until it was time to hit the hot dusty trail back to our homes in New Leipzig, a mere two miles distant. Doggone parents! They said to be home by a certain time, and, by golly, we ALWAYS listened!

Unfortunately, I haven't been able to locate any photos taken down in this natural wonder. If anyone else has some, please consider sharing, and I'll post them in this blog.

Well, ask and you shall receive....

Photo Credit: Ross Pastian, New Leipzig High School, Class of '63'

Photo Credit, Timothy Hertz, New Leipzig High School, Class of '63'

Some very special memories.....

Seven Wonders of My Childhood World

The list of wonders of the World, both natural and man-made, changes with time and technology. There are seven wonders of the ancient world, and there are even organizations promoting new wonders of the world. It's all really fascinating, to varying degrees, with virtually everyone.

In fact, I bet if we were to think really, really hard.....if we were to challenge our own individual memory banks.....if we were to go back in time to our individual childhoods.....we'd ALL remember things that were wondrous to us, things that had special meaning, things that - to others - might mean absolutely nothing. But, because we experienced them, because we lived them, they hold a special place in our hearts, in our lives, in our psyches, maybe even in our loves.

Such are the Seven Wonders of My Childhood World, and I'm talking about early childhood all the way into my twenties.

This post is a list, nothing more. We all have our own lists. The one that follows is mine. Please consider listing your own in the comments that follow. Items on these lists DO mean something. They DO represent special places in our hearts. They DO go beyond the ordinary.

Seven Wonders of My Childhood World:

The Sandhills
Eisenglass Hill
River Forests
The Old Town Water Tower
River Crossings
Cave above the Cannonball River
The "Old Garden"

I can think of sooooo many more, but these are the ones that really jump out at me in my memories. They are all associated, somehow, with My Town.

Here are some "honorable mentions":

Paved Streets
Heart Butte
Coffin Buttes
Lake Tschida
Cannonball River
Odessa
Main Street

In posts to follow, each of these "Wonders" will get more attention to detail. For right now, this can be considered a "teaser" to get your own minds going - to get you thinking about the wonders of Your Town, your childhood.

Have fun!

Dad

Not too long ago, I posted this piece on Facebook from an interview I did with my Dad, Herbert George Hochhalter. For those who may have seen it already, my apologies. For everyone else, this is who my Father was - a simple, down-to-Earth kind of guy. He was very soft-spoken most of the time, but when he said something, it meant us kids needed to listen.

RIP Dad February 10, 1915 - April 10, 2008:

Herbert George Hochhalter

El Paso, TX U.S. Army

Herbert Hochhalter
Feb 10, 2008
93rd Birthday

Conversation with Herbert (my Dad) of his childhood memories:

Ferdinand’s (Editor's note: Ferdinand was my Dad's Father - my Grandfather) brothers were all farmers around Armour, South Dakota.

Their sister, Katherine, married Fred Herr. As I remember she was the youngest in the family. Later on, they moved to California. John and Fred died quite young. John was about 50 and Fred was a little older. Adolph retired in Tripp, South Dakota. Andrew eventually took over the family farm at Armour. He was younger than Dad and came to North Dakota with Dad and homesteaded. Each had a quarter (160 acres) of land.

When George (Andrew’s and Ferdinand’s Dad) passed away in 1905, Andrew went back to South Dakota. His death might be the reason Andrew went back. Ferdinand traded his 80 acres of land in South Dakota to Andrew for Andrew’s 160 acres of land in North Dakota.

I don’t know how long Andrew was in North Dakota, but Dad married Johanna Liedtke in 1908, and both he and Andrew came to North Dakota in 1903. So, there must be a five year span for Andrew living in North Dakota.

I think what brought my family to America from Russia is that men had to go into the Russian military. Farming wasn’t too good anymore, either. Collectivization of farmland got them pretty upset and many left. The whole Hochhalter family came over at the same time. The Liedtkes, Fred stayed and took over the family farm in South Russia, and he eventually came over too and settled in South Dakota, too.

(Editor's note: Kassel, Ukraine is where my Grandfather was born. I believe Hoffnungstal is where Dad's Mom, Johanna, my Grandmother was born)

I imagine the reason they came to North Dakota was because land in South Dakota was all taken up already. I don’t know how they found that out.

It was a pretty hard journey to America from Russia. I think they came through Ellis Island, but I don’t think there’s any record. I'm sure they didn’t come through Canada (Editor's note: according to the Petition for Naturalization for Ferdinand Hochhalter, this family came through the Port of Chicago, although I’m not sure how they got that far inland without doing some land travel, or go through the St. Lawrence Seaway, to get there).

Ferdinand was only 12 years old when they came over. The family settled in South Dakota because of the Homestead Act. There may have been another sister who stayed in Russia when her husband refused to come over, but it’s news to me.

Ferdinand and Andrew moved to North Dakota because there wasn’t enough land in South Dakota to go around. I think the reason they chose where they chose was more than likely because of land availability. Most of the area around there was good farmland. They arrived October 3, 1903 by train into Glen Ullin. They shipped a wagon, horses, and supplies from South Dakota. Most railroads ran east-west, but there must have been some connection to Glen Ullin using the Milwaukee Road.

On their way from Glen Ullin to their new homestead, Ferdinand and Andrew stayed their first night at the Zacher ranch about 6 miles north of present day Elgin. I wouldn’t mention this if it wasn’t for the fact I married Gwen Zacher whose Grandfather owned and operated the ranch my Dad and his brother stayed at that night.

I thought they had a covered wagon to haul some supplies, equipment, and lumber they’d bought in Glen Ullin.

The original location they chose to build a house was about a quarter mile south of where the actual home site ultimately wound up. When Dad and Andrew got to the claim they unloaded the wagon and turned the wagon box upside down. That’s what they lived in until they got shelter up for the horses and themselves and a well dug. The well was very important because they needed water more than anything else to survive. Then they put up the shed for the horses, I think. They eventually built a sod house and lived in it.

The original farmstead was destroyed in a prairie fire probably the next year. Dad told me he and Andrew went to the river to get wood because they didn’t have coal. When they came back they were burned out. They’d seen smoke from the river and were afraid of what might be going on so they headed home as fast as they could go. They lost everything and that’s when they decided to go a little farther north to a new home site and they dug a well there. Why they moved I don’t know.

I don’t know how Ferdinand and Johanna met. Maybe they knew each other in South Dakota before he settled in North Dakota, I just don’t know. He went back to South Dakota and they were married in Menno January 29, 1908.

After they were married, he brought Johanna to her new home in North Dakota. It was a pretty long trip to make. Mom and Dad traveled by train because by that time the Milwaukee Railroad went through Lemmon, South Dakota.

The big house was built in 1918, so Ferdinand and Johanna lived in the sod house for about 10 years. The five older kids were all born in the sod house - the last was Elsie in 1917. I was three when the new house was built. The only thing I remember about the house being built was the carpenter had to cut a board to fit into the siding and these little triangle pieces came out and I was picking them up and playing with them. I don’t remember how long it took to build the house or who built it. The barn was moved in quite a few years later, maybe 1920 or so, after the big house was built.

The Michael Hochhalters you see in the photograph below outside our house lived right out of Bentley, North Dakota.

Michael was Grandma Hochhalter’s third husband. He married Grandma when she was a Liedtke sometime after her second husband, my Grandpa, died. She was my Mother’s Mother, but Michael was not my Mother’s Father. I have no idea when Grandpa died. So, the Grandpa I knew was Michael. They didn’t have any children that I know of. We used to stop there for lunch when we’d haul grain to the Farmer’s elevator in Bentley. We’d stop in after we unloaded and fed the horses and Grandma would always fix us some good soup.

The Lorenzen and Herman families were neighbors. Some of these photos were taken by Theo Lorenzen. The Lorenzen farm was just north of ours where Harry Hochhalter eventually farmed.

The Lorenzens lived there for many years - for as long as I can remember. They must have come there shortly after my Dad. I think they came from Leith or somewhere around there. The Herman farm was just a ways east of there. I don’t know where they came from but their land was in the quarter next to the Lorenzens and just north of Andrew’s parcel.

After the Hermans left, Lorenzen bought the land and must have taken down all the buildings.

The Hermans and the Hochhalters used to work together quite a bit, more so than the Lorenzens and Hochhalters. Harvest took a crew of at least four people, so they almost had to work together to get it done.

The header cut the grain and there was an elevator on it which elevated the grain up into the header box that had a high side and a low side. They’d put the grain in on the low side and take it to the stack to unload it. This was different from shocking the grain. This was a different operation where you cut the grain with a 'binder', and then the grain had to be bundled into a 'shock'. The process we used was to first of all harvest the grain, put it into stacks, and the rest was all done later. My Dad and Mr. Hintz had a rig together, but before that they hired someone else to come through and thresh. They’d come through and thresh for different people because not everyone had a threshing rig. The threshing was done mostly in October. Sometimes it went into November. The main thing was to harvest the grain and put it into stacks when it was ripe. It just stayed there until the threshers came out. Oats and rye, a lot of people cut that with a binder that tied it into bundles. They’d go so far and then they’d drop the bundles after they had about five or six bundles in the carrier. Then we’d go around later and 'shock' the bundles. We raised wheat, oats, and barley. We also had some corn.

My Dad had cattle for as long as I can remember, so, we put up quite a bit of hay. We had ten or twelve milk cows and we also had chickens that produced lots of eggs. We raised all the food we ate, pretty much. The milk was separated and some was fed to the calves and hogs. The cream would get put into cans and once a week we’d take it into town and sell it. Every town had a creamery and a truck would come around to pick it up. Later on there were some cheese factories that sprung up and the trucks would haul the milk to those factories.

We always had a big garden. They were big enough to supply enough food to last until the next year. They’d plant sweet corn out in the field someplace, maybe half an acre or so. Lots of potatoes, maybe a wagon load after we dug them up. Mom and Dad stored the produce in the basement. It was always cool down there and everything kept all winter.

Heat was provided by coal. We had coal heat as far back as I can remember. There was a coal mine, Johnson Coal Mine, they’d sell coal. But during the tough years, nobody had any money. A couple miles north of our place there was a coal vein about three feet deep. Several people got together and got a permit, I think from Carson or someplace, and they’d mine their own coal. That was hard work. They’d scrape the dirt off the top and dig out the coal.

As far as burning wood is concerned, I don't remember burning wood at all. But, when Dad first got there, they had to go to the river to get wood because there weren't any trees. The Lorenzens planted the trees on their place. Otto and Dena planted the trees in the shelter belt many years later. There were absolutely no trees around the farmstead at all!

Daily chores were to get the cows and horses in. We had to get up, as far as I remember, about 6 o'clock in the morning. We'd eat breakfast, and, in the summertime, go out and do fieldwork. Then we'd come in at Noon.

Noon was always at least about one and a half or two hours. After that, we'd work until about 7 o'clock in the evening, and, after that, we'd take care of the animals and then eat supper. In the evening, we'd entertain ourselves with our musical instruments and singing.

Of course, after we got a little older, we'd go to school. We had to walk to school, a mile and a quarter. When the weather got real rough, Dad would take us. Later, when I was in 7th grade, we had a buggy with a horse and Dad would take us in that.

One of the things I remember about Dad was that he loved Velvet tobacco. He'd roll his own cigarettes and have one dangling out the side of his mouth almost all the time. Later on, he used a long filter, but every morning he'd take a handful of farmer's matches and fill his pocket with them. When he came back to the house in the evening, the matches would be all gone. He had to use a lot of them because the cigarettes he rolled would always go out after a short time and he'd have to re-light it.

I remember Dad telling me late in his life he'd always thought about quitting, but that he was just too old and he enjoyed smoking too much to give it up. Eventually, he developed a cancer near his lip where he had the cigarette dangling from his mouth all the time, but the doctors were able to remove all the cancer.

Herbert

My Town ---- Part 2

New Leipzig - what's so special about New Leipzig? Probably not much by many standards.

This small, very rural community on the plains of southwestern North Dakota isn't much different from any of the other small, very rural communities in the area. Elgin, Carson, Mott, Leith, Heil, Bentley, Hebron, Glen Ullin, Almont, Flasher, Solen, Fort Yates, Regent, New England....am I forgetting anyone? Some are a little bigger. Some are a little smaller. They all share a common bond -- they are small town rural America. They represent what some consider to be a dying iconic representation of times past in this nation. They continue to survive with grit, with determination, and with resolve.

It has its Main Street, its obligatory businesses, and residential areas, albeit smallish overall. There is no hospital or medical clinic.

There are a number of churches of different denominations in the town. The school is long gone, and the population has seen a decline over the years.

So, what makes it special? Is it special? To me, it is because it's MY town. It's special to those who still live there. It's special to those who've lived there in the past, and who chose to move away for whatever reason. It's where they grew up. It's where their lives took shape. It's who they ultimately became. And that's important, very important.

New Leipzig was established in 1910. Wow! 103 years old. I still remember the 50th anniversary celebration in 1960! Doesn't seem all that long ago. But then, I guess I'm getting a lot older, too.

The original town of Leipzig was established earlier along the banks of a small creek further north than the present day site. The creek, Antelope Creek, was probably a much more scenic location but it offered little in the way of business development or residential growth. When the railroad decided to come on through, the whole town of Leipzig moved. The new town was called......wait for it......New Leipzig.

I won't go into any more of the history of this small, quaint, still thriving community in this blog. Rather, I'll direct readers to the website for New Leipzig's history if you are so inclined.

The focus of this blog is on what it's like to have grown up in this community, to have had my life shaped by events that, had I been born in a large, metropolitan city, would have been much different. There were similarities, in some respects, but the differences far outweighed those likenesses.

This is a rural community, of that there can be no doubt. The main source of income is directly related to, and irrevocably intertwined, with agriculture.


Sure, there are other "industries" in this community, but, by and large, they also depend on agriculture in some way, shape, or form, for their very existence.

It's been said by some that rural folk have a different mentality. I guess that would all depend on whether or not you're one of those rural folk. Regardless, I believe those of us who grew up rural keep a part of that lifestyle, that mentality with us for life. I'm still uncomfortable in an urban, metropolitan environment even though I lived and worked there for a good portion of my life.

My brother, Clayton (another post will be dedicated to him later), was very uncomfortable in his rural setting. He couldn't wait to get out and spread his wings elsewhere. As he grew older, though, he was inexorably drawn back to his roots. His reminiscences were of a childhood laced with good times and good memories in New Leipzig, North Dakota. His ashes were spread by family on our Dad's land south of town - just as he wanted.

My parents, may they both rest in peace, lived and worked in this community until their retirement in 1982 at which time they traveled the country looking for just the right retirement spot. They ultimately found it in a remote, very rural spot in Arizona. When it became apparent their age was not going to allow them to live so far away from family any longer, they moved to Littleton, Colorado. They knew it had to be done, but they were never completely comfortable in their new environs.

I can remember farmers in the New Leipzig area moving to town after their retirement, and not lasting very long after. We were fortunate enough to have our parents around for quite a few years after they moved here. I believe being close to family had something to do with that - or at least I hope it did.

Generation after generation has been born, raised, nurtured, lived, aged, matured, and ultimately died in New Leipzig. Everyone knows everyone else, although when I look now at some of the names in the Grant County News, I don't recognize some of them. But faces familiar to us in our youth stay with us for life. High school classmates, family friends and relatives, ALL remain familiar no matter where everyone is now located.

And so it goes.

Subject Ideas

Well, folks, this is one of those posts where I ask for feedback, ideas, suggestions, and recommendations. Since beginning this journey, many possibilities came flooding back into memories I hadn't thought about in, well, almost forever. So, I've been creating draft posts as a sort of reminder of things to talk about. Here it is:


Gravel Roads
Thunderstorms & Tornadoes
School Field Trips
"Askhole!!!!!!"
Fort Builders extraordinaire
Beaver Dams and Cottonwood Trees
Ice Skating
Antelope Creek
Big Bro, Clayton
Motorcycle Gang!
Warm Summer Nights Atop the Water Tower
The Cannonball River
Eisenglass Hill
Main Street
Basketball
Heim Hills
Bible School
The Sandhills
BLIZZARD!!!!

Others will be added as I think of them. I know you have your own thoughts and memories, some of them similar to these if not interconnected by virtue of growing up in New Leipzig (or somewhere close). So, if any of these items trigger a memory for you, please let me know and I'll be sure to add it to the ever growing and dynamic list.

My Town --- Part 1

My town is New Leipzig, North Dakota.

It's not a very big town. In fact, the population of New Leipzig has gone from about 350 people when I left way back in 1967 upon graduation from high school down to 274 hearty souls that live there now. Some people like to joke that includes dogs, cats, and chickens.

New Leipzig is located almost at the intersection of Highways 21 and 49 in southwestern North Dakota. The reason it's located where it is is because of the railroad.

There's really nothing too special about my town to most people simply because they haven't ever been there, nor have they ever heard of it. There are even people who live in North Dakota who've never heard of New Leipzig.

The history of New Leipzig is relatively short given that many towns all over the country were founded a LOT sooner than 1910. But it's MY history, too. That's what makes it special to me.

All of us have towns we come from. It doesn't matter if we lived at one time on a farm, a ranch, in an urban or suburban area, or even if we still do. We have a town we associate our formative lives with. Farmers and ranchers within a certain area associate with New Leipzig. Other farmers and ranchers associate themselves with Elgin, others still with Mott, Carson, Flasher, and a whole lot of others where I hail from. But everyone has their own town.

That's what this blog is going to be about...my town...your town...and, ultimately, our town. I'll share my stories, my memories. I hope you'll share yours. It doesn't matter where you come from. It doesn't matter if we've never heard of each other before. Our histories are unique, special.

Awhile back, I decided to write a book on the history of my Father's generation. Here's the cover:

Writing this book was a treasure for me. It included an interview with my Dad that I'll never forget. At some point, after it's been digitized, I may just share it in this blog.

The point? It got me thinking that unless we tell our own stories, they'll be lost to the next generation. If it's as hard for some as it was for me to get my Dad to sit down and talk about his own past, this becomes even more important. His generation, beset by hardships even my generation has no comprehension of, didn't think of themselves as having anything to say that might be "worth it" to anyone. They couldn't have been more mistaken. The stories they told were, and still are, fascinating!

Our stories are, too. We just don't know it yet. I'm not sure if we get more nostalgic the older we get, but I'm sure starting to reminisce a lot and to think about experiences I haven't thought about pretty much since they happened.

So, if you'd like to share your stories, you can do it one of two ways. You can email me your text, and I'll post it in the blog as your story - your town. Or, you can post in the comments, but you'll need to register if you haven't already set up a Google account.

My email for this blog is zhawke2002@gmail.com.