out
of the past: letters to my grandfather—circles of love
In 2019 I decided, since
I closed my Green Integer offices, and my assistant Pablo had brought be home
several large boxes of photographs which I’d been saving, to post some of the
thousands of author, family, and other photos I’d saved over the years. Almost
to the bottom of one box I discovered a series of hand-written letters,
sometimes in pencil and other times in ink, from my great aunts (all
matriarchs) and my own mother to Tobe Caspers, my grandfather. These began in
1917, apparently when Tobe was serving in the military in World War I, and
continued, in my mother’s commentaries into the 1940s.
I was startled to hear the voices of my
aunts Lena, Margaret, and Kathie, as well as my grandmother’s Anna Fahrni
speaking from the grave in urgent farm-women voices, mixing the everyday
activities of their lives with outpourings of love and worry. Some of these
were perhaps quite ordinary, but at the very next moment were highly poetic and
loving.
My mother’s own letters to her father were
filled with comments about me (my brother and sister had yet been born)
revealing my deep love for my father and my amazing childhood exploits.
Years later, my father and I had had a
somewhat difficult, if still loving, relationship, and to hear my mother talk about
my absolute adoration of my father, John, was important and curing.
I think my sister sent some (perhaps all)
of these very personal letters, which I now truly appreciate. Perhaps I had
stolen others from mother’s drawers when she moved into an assisted living
home.
I’ll try not to sentimentalize these rough-hewn
letters, but they did all make me cry, some of them dated from 1917, when these
sisters of Tobe (Tobias Caspers, who spoke more German, I believe, than English)
were probably still young girls, and my own mother’s slightly more well-wrought
correspondences (she had been a school-teacher) but at other times just as
mundane. These women, along with another sister Alice, all took over the farms
from their husbands and made them important operations. Men died; women were
the strong survivors.
In all of these letters the everyday life
of farm-living combines with their fears and longing. Questions about my
grandfather’s life get mixed up with selling pigs: "How is the weather
over there did it snow any these days? Mr. Garibat (?) sole [sold] some pigs to
Mr. Brody for 17.30 cent lb. and the hogs are worth 15.50 lb, but Mr. Brody was
drunk. This is all, From yoursister Maggie Casper.” A cake from Sunday is placed
next to a worry about my grandfather’s arm. In one particularly operatic-like
passage (reminding me of Samuel Barber’s aria “Must the winter come so soon”)
from my grandmother who I never knew poignantly spoke of the relationship of
desire and weather: “My the wind is blowing hard tonight and I wish it wouldn't
rain.” My mother adored her mother Anna.
I knew most of these great aunts well.
They remained part of our life, and I dearly loved their strengths and courage
as well as their deep loving. Katie, as I have written elsewhere—if you showed
up to her house—would immediately offer you not only candy but a full meal.
Shortly before she died, by great Aunt
Margaret, at my father’s mother Ethel’s funeral approached me: as a child, I
recalled, my family had explicably spent a night at her farm homestead. I can't
explain why everyone who was visiting was now spending the night at her place.
It must have been very bad weather. I remember sleeping with other cousins on
the porch and didn't mind it at all (and have a strange recollection, maybe one
of my young imagination, of someone being hurt by a knife in the kitchen). But
for me it was just a childhood adventure. Margaret came forward to me, now as a
full adult, apologizing for the fact that I had had to spend the night on the
floor. She remembered after all those long years and felt regret for something
she might never needed to have regret. “I’m sorry, she said. For you having to
sleep on the floor, but we simply didn’t have enough beds.” How lovely she was.
Tobe Caspers, my grandfather, whenever we
arrived, would take almost everything out of the refrigerator, putting it on
the kitchen table to show us that we welcome and could eat anything he had.
I have attempted to
leave the original typographical form and misspellings when possible (but have
corrected with brackets when I felt the readers might not comprehend their
meanings). I like their down-home language and Iowa euphemisms. In a very few
cases I have provided more regular punctuation just to make their sentences
clearer. Much of the original was just a flow of emotion, which I also enjoyed,
but might make it hard to comprehend what they were expressing. Whenever
possible I sided with the original comments.
The first, dated October
10, 1917 was from my grandmother, Anna Fahrni, who had evidently borrowed a
pencil from her friends in order to write.
Thursday night
My true Sweetheart
Am going to write you a few lines to let
you know that I got your letter yesterday was so glad to get it, I suppose you
thought my last letter was quite a crabbyone. But I just have to say something
when I hadn't heard from you for over a week.
I sure
felt better after I got that nice long letter, I went to store yesterday and on
the way I got your letter. Well did you guard today or was this your day off. I
wish I could be there when you have two days off don't you dear, oh well
someday we will be together for good many we will get tired of being together
then, but I guess not their being pared is good for a person you find out how
much you miss your dearest friend don't you think so dear? I'm sure just in a
full day today around and chased up all the trash out of the garden and I don't
know what all.
Glenn
and I are going to pick up corn all day—tomorrow then that will finish it then
Monday we are going to start picking. I have to do the dentist again. Saturday
Eloise and, a girl, to town—quite often she always makes a date for Wednesday
and I for Saturday so we can get to go often.
My the
wind is blowing hard tonight and it looks like rain. I hope it doesn’t rain
though. You said it had been pretty warm down there it has been warm here do we
all sweat today but have had some pretty cold days.
I
talked to Grace today she said she was still waiting for a letter from you did
you write to her yet or not!
She said
John got out of the hospital Monday and is getting along just fine.
Grace
invited Anna H. and I up for dinner Sunday don't know if we will go yet or not
or would like to go home some Sunday too but it seems now since I haven't got
anyone to take me anymore I don't get anywhere. Well dear guess I will close
now/write a fine lines to Johns I haven't written to him for quite a while.
A good night
with Love and Kisses
answer your wife or
going to be someday.
xxxxxxxxx
P.S. Thank you for the stick
of guam [gum] and please tell me that you
want for your birthday because I dont like to tell you what
to get me if you dont order something too will please you.
The second is dated from
Monticello, Iowa. October 23, 1917
Dear Brother Tobe—
Rec’d you letter yesterday. Was so glad to
hear from you again.
How are you
any how I am fine. Hope you are the same by this time.
Well it looks
like winter out here. There was couples inchs [inches] of snow out here this
morning quite a cold spell just now.
Do you mine
the cold? I think its rather early for the winter to start in. don’t you think
so?
Well Tobe Mrs. Stuhler has your sweeter half ready and
one gray one half ready for the red cross. She said if was in any hurry of
wanting yours, she couldn’t seam them together so one side and gray on the
other well suppose it be another two weeks before she has you’re [yours] ready.
Well Tobe I
suppose it seems too to give when you seems seeing Poppe out there. You know
she hated to part from John. Isn’t Henry ok with you? I though he was all the
time. I suppose you heard of Annie F. Aunt Lena being here on a visit. She has
the small poks [smallpocks] now. I seen her in the office Sundae, she looked
aghast and afflicted. The Dr. said Oshe had it for to weeks all ready. But
don’t say any think to anyone F. about it if she don’t menschen it. I suppose
they have all kinds of diseases out there.
Well Tobe do
you get plenty of good eats out there yet. I would like to sent you some-think.
If I knew what you would want. If there is any think [thing] you would like,
just say so. I sent it to guess.
Well I was
downtown Sat. night, I sens [saw] Henry in town and Lewis B. they were
together. I suppose that will not be much longer.
Well Tobe
write when ever you can. It seems Lonesome with out hearing from you.
Good Night.
Ans. soon.
Your
Sister, Katie.
The third letter dated from Monticello, Iowa, November 5,
1917 from my great aunt Lena.
Dear Brother—
How are you?
I am fine hope
you are the same. School is out and didn’t start yet. We was to Poppe Sunday.
Peter father mother and Maggie and I. We had a good time over there. I write to
Jennie Poppe yesterday. I wont to write to you before. But the others want to writes
so I coulden what do thing alone 3 cents tamp on the letters. Annie is eating
cake from Sunday. How is your arm?
Out long
cattle are in good shape. We bough one loan of corn from Mr. Brady it was old
corn. Our o’clock is going good. Does Hedden writes to you. I guest you got a
lote of letter. How is you squrril [squirrel] meat. How is your meal over
there. John that went to New Mexico he said he diden get very much he got caned
tomatoes and corn and dry bread. That what got when left on the train.
From you sister:—
Lena
Caspers.
xxxx
x
S. A. K. x
xxxx
sent a kiss.
The fourth letter, dated
November 5, 2019 was from my great aunt Margaret.
Dear Brother,
I received your card
Saturday. I guess I am going to get a ten-cent bracelet tomorrow.
We didn’t
receive any candy the last day of school.
Anna Fahrni
and Ma and Peter C. were over to folskets [our folks?] today.
Max & pa
and Lena ‘n Peter and I were over to Poppe Sunday. We had a good time.
Anna Fahrni
is just using my penicel [pencil] to
write to you a letter.
How is the
weather over these, did it snow any there day? Mrs. Gruibat sole [sold] some pigs
to Mr. Body for 17.30 cent lb. and the hogs are worth 15.50 lb but Mr. Brady was
drank [drunk].
From yoursister
Maggie
Caspers
xxxxx
xx
S. W. A. K. x
xxxxxxx
each one is a kiss
Perhaps SWAK means “sister with a kiss.”
In October 1949 my mother sent a letter to my grandfather
and your youngest brother Duane (who also lived with us for a while before
evidently moving in with my grandfather. We were living in Ventura, Iowa at this time,
and my father was apparently away that summer working on his Master’ degree in
Iowa City.
Dear Dad & Duane,
How are you two ole bachelors, I hope
fine. By the way when are you going to drive up this way in that new Ford.
I’m busy canning, I canned 7 pts. of carrots
yesterday and today four of carrots, two of tomatoes & 1 of beets. I have
32 pts. of pickles canned. I’m going to give you some of those pickles and
carrots if you come up sometime. I really have a grand garden this year. I have
lots of everything.
Doug sure keeps me running. Johnnie fixed
a new combination on the gate, but Doug figured it out. This morning he was
pulling carrots like a good one. Otherwise he’s always bringing in onions. He
sure misses Johnnie, he almost goes wild when he sees him.
Johnnie only has about five more days of
school. I’m happy and I bet he’s glad to be through too.
Say Duane when are you going to write us a
letter. We’re still waiting. Won’t be long and school will start, are looking
forward to it? Say, Duane aren’t you going to spend a few days here?
Rev’s house is finished and boy is it ever
a beautiful home. They have put the sidewalks in and terrace the yard.
I took care of Ray for an hr. tonight:
Barb brought me a whole carton of gum, I don’t know what I’ll do with it. You
can have some Duane.
Must get to bed, I just finished a letter
to Johnnies folks. Will we be seeing you Aug. 14 at the reunion.
Love,
Johnnie, Lorna & Doug
In an envelope
postmarked from 1950, mailed once more from Ventura, our home on Clear Lake, I
found further letters from my mother to her father Tobe. My father was a coach
at this time, I believe, at Ventura high school, but he must also have been
driving the school bus.
Sunday nite
Dear Dad,
Johnnie and I are busy writing letters to
our families. I just sent a birthday card and letter to Paul [presumably her
eldest brother Paul, not to my father’s younger brother Paul].
We have been busy the last couple of wks.
Sr. class play, Jr-Sr banquet. Baccalaureate services tonite, commencement exercises
tomorrow nite, and school picnic Fri., also last day of school. Johnnie has
also been driving the school bus for the last three wks. of school. He has
quite a hilly route, he got into a wash out the other morning, it took two
tractors to pull him out.
Did you read in the papers about the bond
issue passed here at Ventura for a $98,000 addition to the school for more
class rooms. Ag.[agriculture] room and music room. Johnnie was one of the
judges at the election.
Say, Dad when are you coming up with the
new Lady friend [I presume my step-grandmother Emma]. Carol [my mother’s
sister] said she was quite attractive and dressed so neat. Drive up sometime
and try your luck at fishing too.
We were sponsers for Deborah Dee Wolfgram,
the new baby next door—by proxy. Then we had dinner over to Ted Wolfgram's, it
really was nice.
Our garden is coming up, should have fresh
onions in a wk or so. We have it on shares with the old folks up here. We got a
new lawn mower and Johnnie keeps himself busy on Saturdays. There always is
something to be done. Johnnie will have a couple of weeks off to summers school
in Iowa City. I sure hope Duane can spend his summer here or at least part of
it here.
Doug is really going to miss Johnnie, he wants
him to stay home from school now and just play with him. There isn't a thing
Doug doesn't say, lately saying far Goodness sakes. The other nite we took him
to a show and when we were ready to leave he said, "that was a crummy
show."
Johnnie has some baseball officiating
lines up for this summer in C. R. [Cedar Rapids] and this fall and winter he's
going to officiate basketball and football games.
Say, Dad how is Aunt Maggie [my grandfather’s
sister mentioned above], I haven't heard how she's getting along. I suppose
shes home already.
Have you been busy painting lately? I hope
you make out good at it.
Guess I’ll close for now, I didn’t get this
letter finished when I started it. Be seeing you sometime. I don’t think I’ll
do anymore traveling this summer.
Love,
Johnnie, Lorna & Doug
Fri.
Dear Dad,
It’s time I get another letter off to you.
I guess I could write a letter everyday and I wouldn’t be caught up yet.
Did you have a nice time at Don and Bev’s
[her brother and his wife], by the way how are they coming along? Does Duane
like it there [apparently my youngest uncle, still a child, also stayed with
them]. We sure don’t hear from them, I’m going to send something at Halloween
time.
Did you see your new grandson yet, by
golly it looks as if there aren’t going to be any girls. I haven’t sent them a
gift yet but will as soon as I get to Clear Lake or Mason City.
I suppose your still painting but not for
very long because of the cold weather. You had better come up to see us before
the roads get bad. How did you like that wind storm, I never saw anything like
it. That picnic table out here was picked up by the wind and was thrown against
a bank, it broke into so many pieces. There was quite a lot of other damage
around here too, some windmills blown over, that drive in theater really was
messed up, and of course everyone’s corn was blown down.
I’m washing this morning, looks like the
sun might even come out. Doug is busy with a cloth shining his windows. You
should hear him talk, he can say anything and says sentences too. He’s been
having a cold again these last few days.
We drove down to Charles City Sun. around
four to visit Dick and Verona Landis. We only stayed about two or three hrs.
but we had a nice visit. Those twins sure are lively, they can climb more than
Doug.
Sure wish we could of seen you that
wk.end we were down there. Johnnie sure got sick from that trip, we were sorry
we made it. He had laryngitis all wk, he missed two days of teaching.
The football team really has been doing
well, they won the last three games. We played Clear Lake B team last nite and
won 21-6. They’re going to start on the football field down below our place
Mon. if weather is good. They moved there machinery in the other day.
Boy this little burg is coming right
along. That new house below Esbeck’s on the hill side is almost finished, and
of course Rev’s are living in there new home, the community building is almost
finished, a bowling alley is being built between the place where we used to
live and the post office and the now the new football field. Then as soon as
school is out there going to build here at the school.
Guess I’d better close tell everyone
hallo. Be seeing you sometime.
Love,
Johnnie,
Lorna
& Doug
The final letter,
written evidently in 1953, the year of my sister Pat’s birth, was from Newhall,
a small town near Cedar Rapids where my father began as a coach, became school
Principal, and finally the Superintendent of the school. This letter, from me
at age 6, was directed to another kind of “grandfather,” the saint to all
children, Santa Claus. As I’ve written elsewhere, only a few years later,
perhaps even the very next year, I woke up one morning quite early and entered
my parent’s bedroom. “What’s wrong?” my father called out. “Dad, mom, there isn’t
really a Santa Claus is there?” My father, startled by my declaration, attempted
to explain that he represented “the spirit of Christmas.” It didn’t bother me
whatsoever; how nice that those gifts had really come from my loving parents. I
turned to go but turned back quickly: “And there’s no tooth fairy either.”
Of course, I immediately told one of my
friends, Gretchen Grover, who, to my shock went home crying. Her parents called
mine, explaining what I had just done. And my father had the difficult duty of
the lecturing me about not sharing what I had just perceived, explaining that I
had to keep it secret.