It has been awhile! I am still alive and well in Maryland, just extremely busy! I just began a huge undertaking and it is taking up all (and I mean ALL) of my free time! I just began a graduate certificate program for my "day" job! The certificate is in Administration & Supervision and will open some more doors for me in the future if I decide to spread my wings!
Nevertheless, a new blog post landed in my lap today when I opened up an email from my Mother. She is a wonderful writer and does a fabulous job as the family oral historian. I have both of my grandfathers on tape (gotta get them on some digital device!) and now she is working on my father. So far, I think they are in written form, but I do believe my niece made a podcast of him singing anAlsatian anthem in the Alsatian Dialect (Note to self--get ahold of that tape!).
Here is the story that my mother transcribed and emailed to me and my three brothers:
[Note: I added the photos to illustrate his story!]
Question Prompt: Mark, what do you remember about the corn harvest when you were growing up on the Andrew Kempf farm?

The Andrew Kempf Homestead, unknown date

Andrew and Lucille Kempf on their wedding day, December 29, 1931
Mark Kempf's Reply: [As told to Roselyn Keller Kempf, his wife]

Back into the field and picked more corn until it was picked.



of the ears would fall onto the ground when the tractor turned the corner to go to the next row. So - guess what – we had to go and pick the end of the rows of corn by hand before the corn-picker got there – so no corn would be wasted. And sometimes we just went down the rows to make sure that no corn had fallen to the ground and would be left behind. No waste. After the corn was in the barn, we had to wait for someone to bring the corn Sheller to by – there about 3 or 4 people in the county that had a corn Sheller – it was a big investment and few could afford one. They would bring the corn Sheller by and go up to the barn and a few boys and men would get inside the barn on top of the pile of corn (it was dirty and dusty in there) and shovel or push it into a trough at the barn door on the ground and it would elevate it up on the metal trough to the Sheller where it would separate the shucks and cobs from the kernels of corn – the machine would auger the kernels into a wagon – from there we would take the wagon of corn kernels to Mangold Grain Company at La Coste. Nowadays the combine does the picking, shelling and putting into the truck in one operation and it takes maybe one full day to complete what took us a month or more, not counting the shelling. When the corn was shelled, we let the cobs lay on the ground on a pile – but the shucks were baled into big bales to feed to the cows in winter. We put a little molasses on them sometimes to make them more palatable for the cows. (What great fiber ! – r.k.) The same guys who came to shell the corn brought a baler along for the purpose of baling the shucks. I think the Zinsmeyers had a Sheller. Everybody helped everybody when there was a shelling. The farmers would follow the Sheller and go from place to place. I remember Uncle Bernard Biediger, Uncle Ulrich Kempf, Ernie Rhin,


It was bottled beer as there was no canned beer in those days. It would take a day or two to shell all the corn. One of the barns still stands that Daddy built to store the corn. The elevator and lift still is at Gibby’s place. I helped with the corn picking and shelling through the draught of the 1950’s and then it became more mechanized – the combines came into being – and when I was in High School, I went to work at Leon’s
(now Sammy’s) and also went on a milk delivery truck, which went to Uvalde, delivering glass bottles of milk to stores. I had to get up a 4 in the morning to get on the truck – I did that only one summer – did not want to get up at 4 in the morning. I got about 50 cents or less an hour for that job.
[Note on photographs in the above story. They are not necessarily meant to depict the people at the time period my father was talking about. They are to give the reader a better idea of the people in the story. The top photo of the little boy with long hair (sitting in a chair) is my father, Mark Kempf! Later, there is a photo of him with his older brother, Gerald. There is also another one of my father by himself as a young boy. The photo of the horse & tractor team is not identified. The photo of the men working on the tractor (Biry tractor) shows Ulrich Kempf (my father's uncle) in a dark black hat on the far left. The other men are not identified. The two young men standing next to the old car are my father's uncles, Bernard (left) and David (right) Biediger).]
More photographs:

This is an early photo of Andrew Kempf, Julius Mechler & Joe Naegelin playing around!

Andrew Kempf's brother, Ulrich. Andrew & Ulrich's property was adjoining and part of the larger, original Alsatian homestead (from Benjamin Kempf)

Ulrich's son, Gilbert (Gibby) Kempf--Dad's first cousin and the same age. They grew up together and then Gibby's children and my brothers' and I played together. Gilbert still lives on part of the Ulrich Kempf homestead with his wife.
Note from Roselyn Keller Kempf:
I asked Mark about his early memories of corn harvest and as we are at the computer, we can

Times have definitely improved the lot of the farmer –

What a wonderful slice of life on the farm! I especially love the pictures! It was interesting to read the contrast to what is going on in that same field today - times sure have changed!! Thanks for sharing this.
ReplyDeleteWhat a beautiful story of life on the farm. I, too, liked the photos and the contrast between farming now and farming then. If only we could *order* the rain ~ now that would be improvement!
ReplyDeleteThank You!
Caroline
Thanks for the comments! Grandpa was the last generation to farm....my dad and uncle did not go into farming although the farm is leased and still being farmed. My mom and dad live on part of the original property. My mother's father was also a farmer and one of her brother's is involved in agriculture, just not as a farmer. It is a special way of life!
ReplyDeleteGreat post - I love farm stories. Also glad to see you posting again.
ReplyDeleteYour posting is very good and theme base for which it is liking to every people. Thanks a lot!!! graduate certificate program | Degree programs
ReplyDelete