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Running sores (fistulas) dripped pus and were hard to cure.

As dairying grew, horses were needed to haul milk cans to the cheese factory or creamery which was located on a crossroads. They were only a few miles apart. Often a store, a school and a town hall were there too.

Farmers took turns picking up the milk for the neighbors. It was often the teenagers job since it took hours to pick up the milk, unload it at the factory and refill the cans with whey. (Whey is the liquid left after cheese was made.) This whey was a major food for hogs. In later years when a condensery began operating in Owen, this whey was dried into powder form and used in many ways. Whey which was discarded smelled very bad and polluted the ditches and streams into which it ran.

In winter, sleigh tracks packed the snow higher and higher until the road was several feet high. Meeting another rig posed a problem because the sled would slip off the beaten path spilling milk cans, bolts or logs. When the snow began to melt, horses hoofs sunk deep into the snow causing them to stumble.

The trail of frozen horse droppings of undigested grain and seeds furnished food for winter birds and fun for school kids. They often kicked a “frozen horse apple” a mile or more down the road on the way to school. Frozen droppings also served as a puck for hockey. The sticks were made of a curved branch.

Dad was a blacksmith. So our childhood rang with the anvil sound as he shaped the horseshoes in individual fit. Barrels of horseshoes waited in the shop. Dad first pared off with a curved knife, a hoop grown too long. If a hoof broke off by itself it often caused pain - much as a broken finger nail.

Next he manicured the rough edge with a huge nail file or rasp. The fetlock, a tuft of hair behind the hoof, was the “handle” by which he lifted the foot of the horse.

Some of these horses were Western broncos that were barely broken. They reared, kicked and whinnied in terror when shod for the first time. Winter horseshoes had a special sharp cleat in front to keep from slipping on icy roads. Many were the hazards caused by unbroken horses. A huge scar was left on Dad’s calf by a horseshoe nail that ripped it open when the horse kicked as he held the foot between his knees.

Runaways were common as horses became frightened or impatient or bitten by flies. Dad was dragged a half mile by a team which ran away with a load of hay.

Mary, a spirited horse took the corner off our tar paper house as she ran away with a load of milk cans. Then there was the beautiful little colt that suddenly died after running at break neck speed across the field. Old Doc Hansen said she ruptured a blood vessel. Dad wiped his eyes as he dragged her away.

Mr. Free’s hoses (the mailman) had a long route pulling a cart with wheels or runners. The enclosed cab kept out some cold, but he wore a horsehide coat and gauntlets for warmth. The mail box corner was a meeting place for kids so they waited for the carrier whose horse plodded miles through knee-deep snow or mud on those pre-paved roads.

Nieminen home in 1914.

Tyyne and Vieno

A horse became part of the family because of its importance in a way of life. Whether it was Mary, the wild one; Daisy, the Watkins horse who tuned into every driveway; Pat, the boy horse which looked just like the red stallion that visited our farm the year before; or Queen, the beautiful bay on whose back we rode to the river when Dad cooled them off after a hot summer day - they are a living part of Wisconsin childhood memories.

Vieno Keskimaki

Box 113

Withee, Wisconsin 54498

THE TALK GIVEN AT THE TOWN OF UNITY

PARK DEDICATION IN RIPLINGER

JULY 4, 1976

Fellow citizens, ladies and Gentlemen:

A man was asked on the 30th class reunion to make a few remarks, as he was the main speaker on graduation. As he glanced around he recognized a female with whom he had spooned; another buddy

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with whom he had crooned; also another with whom he had cooned wormy apples. As such Ladies and Gentlemen, I address some of you not because I know you too darn well. (Goes for me too.)

I’ll tell about how we celebrated the 4th 70 or 80 years ago at Hustisford, Dodge County. Several cornet players at sunrise would render several verses of the German song “Freedom that I love, that my heart enjoys” from atop a high hill overlooking the village. The echo of the last note was still in the air when another group with shotguns would fire their salute. Not to be outdone, another group would take the anvil on the street and fire a black powder charge. This would wake up everybody for miles around. You had better believe it.

Got my first taste of ice cream and bananas on the 4th. There were no cars at that time (1906-06). I ran after three cars that passed our place on their way to Fox Lake from Milwaukee. What a change!

A two sweep horse power was used to cut (corn hexell) after the corn was husked. They also had to thresh grain with a had fed machine and straw carrier. Grain was measured with a peck measure. I even helped set a straw stack in 1916 and was No. 3. There were six men on the stack.

Check row corn was first marked out both ways with four-five row markers and then planted with a hand planter. What fun! Hay was cut, raked and cocked by hand and when the marshes were too wet, it was carried out with sticks to higher ground. Then dump rakes, mowers and binders came into style. Later siderakes, loaders, hay carriers, forks and such were used. It was hard work but that made America what it is today.

The best days are the good old school days with the 4 R’s--Religion, Reading, ‘Riting and ‘Rithmetic. I got several lickings but should have had a couple more. Most of the young folks do not agree with me that they are the best years in your life. They will find out later. A soon as the water got warm enough it was the old swimming hole in the Wild Cat - always in the buff. Those cow pies along the path were soft after dark on the way home.

In winter it was sledding, skating and shinny (hockey), ice sailing for two and oh, boy--crack the whip. Those on the end really took off.

Butchering bees in the fall were a regular occurrence before Thanksgiving - turkeys, ducks, geese. Watertown is still called the (Guessel) Gosling Town or Goose Capital. Hogs and beef came later with sausage making and meat curing.

Whenever there was an upcoming wedding there was the feather stripping bee for the pillows and feather beds. I was present for some of these and recall one incident where the young folks were stripping at this table and a girl emptied out the last sack of feathers to be stripped when her boyfriend touched her (accidentally?) on the leg. She resented this and took the empty sack and pilled it down over his head. He had curly hair. What a mess!

There were no telephones, radios, electric lights, no freezers, refrigerators except ice boxes, no running water unless you had a windmill and the wind would blow. We waste ten times more water than we used in those days.

Sauerkraut was made in the house and toilets were outside. Today it is the opposite. Women wore long skirts with two or three petticoats. As they walked, they would sweep the sidewalks and the street. But today, whatever little they wear, they sweep a man off his feet!

Horse and buggy days were great as long as you stayed with the same girl, but if you changed to a different one you would be in trouble. Horses are smart and remember. So if you did not watch out, you would end up in the old girlfriend’s yard. (Very embarrassing moments.)

R. W. Rex

Riplinger, Wisconsin 54472

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WHAT AMERICA MEANS TO ME

America, to me, means living in a free country. Living in a free country means that one can worship God in ones own way or just worship God. It means we’ll all get a good education and our parents get to do any job they can get or want to do.

The three biggest reasons for what America means to me are love, peace and joy.

Love is Americans always trying to make America better and cleaner. Peace is knowing that you’re not at war everyday. Joy is knowing you’re in the best country in the world.

As I am young, so is America. As I grow in knowledge and understanding, I hope and pray America will grow also. We are America. With God’s help. America will always be America, the Beautiful.

Renee Hendrickson (age 12)

Route 1

Unity, Wisconsin 54488

(Written as an essay for the dedication of the Town of Unity Park in Riplinger on July 4, 1976)

After celebrating their centennial in 1974, the enjoyment lasted longer and the project of creating a park for the Town of Unity became final during the Bicentennial 4th of July celebration. Roscoe Meacham, chairman of the park committee, presented the key to Wayne Hendrickson (left), chairman of the Town of Unity.

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