From the time she was born until she was five years old, Betty’s parents were farming one of Michael Jondle’s farms south of Fort Dodge. It is located on the west side of Highway 169 (today the address is 2573 Lainson Avenue, Otho). Michael lost the farm (due to a gambling bet or nonpayment of a mortgage). Ed, Helen and Betty had to move to a rental farm near Moorland. Ed and Helen were angry towards Michael for this change in their fortune. Betty said that she did not see much of her grandparents because of lingering hard feelings over this situation.
Here is the story in Betty’s words, as well as her description of life on her parent’s rental farm:
Betty: Yeah, that’s where I lived until I was five years old. Then grandpa lost the farm and a Nelson bought it. My folks moved out where there was a timber, now that was just for one year.
Bob: You’re parents lived out where there was a timber?
Betty: Yeah, there was a timber and they were there just one year and then they moved out to Wesley’s place (near Moorland, Iowa). Now, I think they did pretty good for awhile, but during Hoover days things were bad. Corn was two cents a bushel. When I mentioned that to George Hefley he said his grandparents, some of his family lived in or around Barnum, and they used to buy corn to burn instead of coal because it was cheaper.
Now the farming was different those days, the only groceries my folks needed to buy was flour, sugar and coffee. Rest of the time folks raised their own food. There were the cows and they used to separate the milk and sell the cream. There were the cows, there were the chickens and I know they butchered one hog a winter and mother used to can the meat and some of it she fried and put it in those crocks and poured the lard on it and that kept good. So, they raised, and she canned a lot. She had a big garden like I did and she canned a lot. So, we had our own food mostly, so we weren’t hungry.
Bob: So did your dad butcher the hog himself or did he have somebody help?
Betty: No, he always had somebody do it. He couldn’t do it himself and when you butchered the hog you had to let it hang at least a day to get all the body heat out of it. Then you could can it.
When we needed fuel there was a big grove back of the house so he took a saw and cut down a tree and burned the wood. Usually, in the cook-stove it was the corncobs, but the corn wasn’t shelled that year because of the landlord, Wesley, told him as long as the corn stays in the crib he will wait for the cash rent.
See the grain was divided 50-50 (when the crop was sold the landlord got half of the proceeds). But there had to be pasture for the horses and the cows and that was cash rent. And I remember it was $8 an acre, I don’t know how many acres there were, but I remember it was $8 an acre. Old Albert Wesley told him as long as the corn stays in the crib he’ll wait for the cash rent. And then Roosevelt got in and this is where they got this corn loan. The farmers got their 45 cents a bushel for their corn. It stayed in the crib until it was called for and the farmers were happy. So, I’m old enough to remember the Hoover days. I was just a kid but I remember it. I do remember it.
I’m old enough to remember the Hoover days and the friends, the people that had money in the bank – it was gone. Now, they had friends in Fort Dodge, Kriblehobys (If anyone knows the correct spelling please let me know) and that’s where my folks went to town every Saturday and my dad would drop us off at Kriblehoby's and he would go uptown. (I think that Betty was going to tell me how her parent's friends, the Kriblebobys, lost their money in the banking crisis during the Great Depression, but she got sidetracked to talking about homemade wine and beer.)
I think he went uptown to have his beer. During prohibition days they couldn’t have their beer so they made their own beer behind the cook-stove. They took the malt and the stuff and put it over there. I know my mother had a great big 50-gallon crock or whatever. They made their own beer and in the summertime they went out to the neighbor’s timbers and picked the wild grapes – they’re little tiny things – picked the wild grapes and they made their grape wine.
Bob: How did they know how to do that? Did somebody teach them?
Betty: I don’t know. I think she probably learned from the people she worked for when she came to this country, but I think a lot of people knew that. It was sweet. It was purple and it was sweet and they bottled it and to keep cold it was put down in the cave. We didn’t have a basement under the house but we had an outdoor cave and it was nice and cool down in there.
Bob: This was the house near Moorland?
Betty: Yeah, this was the house by Moorland, yeah. Like I say, I remember the Hoover days and I remember my shoes were run down and I found out many years later than one leg is slightly longer than the other and that’s the reason I used to run down that one shoe, run down the heel of it.
My folks didn’t have money to buy me shoes and there weren’t very many eggs. Chickens didn’t lay very much in the wintertime, because if they would have had the right type of feed, but in the wintertime it was slow for eggs. (I think Betty was trying to say that with the right kind of feed, the chickens would have been more productive.)
I remember we had the egg cases that we cased them in. The single case that held I think 15 gallon, I mean 15 dozen. And there were the double cases when they took them to town. Dad bought himself a new Model A Ford, before that he had an old Studebaker. I barely remember that. It was kind of light brown or tan; it had a top but no windows. Then I guess he had a pretty good crop, this was on grandpa’s farm, out on the highway (the farm on Highway 169 that they had to leave), he had a pretty good crop. He sold the oats, I guess and bought a brand new Model T Ford. To be able to put the egg cases in, they used to take them to the grocery store.
Bob: In Fort Dodge?
Betty: Yep, the A & P.
Bob: Where was that?
Betty: It was off on Central Avenue, I think. Yeah, Central Avenue. To have room to take the eggs to town you took the front seat out and then we sat in the backseat. He was all alone in the front seat. That was the grocery money.
Bob: So, was he proud of his new car?
Betty: Oh, yeah. Oh, yeah, and I think that’s why grandpa - there was something that old Bill Jondle’s wife, Julia, was telling me the reason we had to move, grandpa (Michael Jondle) said he sold the farm. Then I was told he lost it because he was a drinking gambler. So, what the truth is I don’t know but he was mad.
Bob: This was your grandpa Mike?
Betty: Yeah. He was mad because my dad got a new car.
Bob: So, what was your grandma’s first name?
Betty: Christina.
Bob: Did you like her?
Betty: Well, I didn’t see too much of her when I was little because there were bad feelings when my folks had to move off that place. And then they went renting. The farming was all done by horses. And one of the horses died and my folks were left wondering what they were going to do. So, the grandparents heard about it, so they gave my folks a set of mules. Jack and Jenny. Jack was a big white mule and Jenny was a smaller, brown mule. Before that my father always used to make fun of the people that had the mules because mules were stubborn, “stubborn as a mule.” But he put up with it.
And then they (Michael and Christina) gave him (Ed) down payments on the farm out there by Clare that they had. Ninety dollars. That farm was $90 an acre. So, they paid that off, I mean, they had that down payment. (end of Betty’s quote)
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