We had our first ever Jacob John Curtis Unruh reunion Memorial day. J J C is my grandpa, and his initials is how he was known as. He died some 25 year or more ago. I don't remember exactly. I actually went to the reunion. Everyone was instructed to be there, and almost everyone was. I got the memories of the reunion in the mail today. Here's one told by my dad's old brother, Curtis. This one got to me.

It was harvest 1935. In April dad tried hooking the spring tooth behind the plow to stop the ground from blowing. It didn't help a bit. When we went to cut wheat Dad kept looking in the bin. Then he pointed this way and that. Then he pointed to the house. When he got to the house, he got a 50-gallon drum. He rolled it out and drained the wheat from the bin into it. He said, "Boys, that's the crop." Mom come out and said, "What will we ever do?" Dad said, "We'll get by."

Interpretation: When grandpa was pointing this way and that, they were jumping around in the field where it looked like there might be wheat to cut. Then grandpa seen it was futile, and just pointed towards the house.

Brent

For those that might be interest how Stan, Scott and I are related.....Stan's grandpa and my grandpa were brothers. And Scott's grandpa and my grandma were brothers and sisters.

Brent

Good point, Brent. I enjoy studying the immigrants(mennonite and others)coming over here and how they struggled to start a new life. Maybe you can identify with this:

http://freepages.genealogy.rootsweb.ancestry.com/~troy/unruh/unruh_family_history.html

"Good point, Brent. I enjoy studying the immigrants(mennonite and others)coming over here and how they struggled to start a new life. Maybe you can identify with this:"

GM,

Over the last several years this has become somewhat of an interest of mine too, especially when it pertains to family. Thanks for the link.

Brent

Brent: Incidentally my father spent some of his growing up years living a few miles south of Greensburg, went to high school in Greensburg and had many stories to share of the "old times". His parents, (my grandparents) were devoted followers of Ervy Yost, pastor at Bethel Mennonite Church (H), when Yost left the H and joined the Old Mennonite church they also went with him. This all was happening when my father was prob. in his teen years. Sometime during this time or before, grandpa farmed in Haskell co, KS, had a beautiful wheat crop coming on that was ready to cut, the evening they started cutting, my dad's oldest brother injured an eye and they had to rush him to the hospital, when they returned, their entire crop was hailed out. They parked the almost new combine, moved to Louisiana to find jobs, came back a year or so later to find their combine cannibalized by neighbors to keep their own combines running. My dad would always say, "There was nothing good about the good ole days"

Forreal,

I can identify with your post. I have my own harrowing and devastating experiences.

You write, "There was nothing good about the good ole days".

I was just talking with Stan on this similar thing lately, and we both concluded there are advantages to growing older. You have the advantage of experience and actually don't wish to relive many of the things in your past just to be younger. You're glad a lot of the bad stuff is behind you even though you are much older.

Brent