On August 14, 1881 in a little town of Great Bend, Minnesota a young couple was married by Rev. Savage. At that time there was nothing unusual about this event yet this marriage proved to be extraordinary for this couple lived to celebrate their 70th wedding anniversary after experiencing many hardships that today few people think would be possible to tolerate.

James Monroe Lovrien as a child

Shortly after that summer wedding day they left Minnesota bound for South Dakota. Evidently the trip was uneventful, as they did not talk about it. Their first home was a sod shanty. Through the small windows they could look in all directions. All they could see was long grass, wild flowers, and a few cottonwood trees. The surrounding territory had been an Indian Reservation and they knew full well how much the Red man resented the coming of the white families to what they called their 1and. There had been uprisings not far from them.

For centuries this area had been the grazing ground for great buffalo herds. This, for them, was a blessing as that meant an abundant supply of dried buffalo chips. With these and the long grass that they could twist, they were sure they would have fuel. Another blessing was that wild game was plentiful. So long as the ammunition held out they knew they would have food. The animals that were a menace were the packs of wolves. Their woeful howling at night was annoying and added to their loneliness. One of the first necessities after their arrival was to plow a wide strip of ground around their home to prevent being burned out. Raging grass fires often occurred and too many times were uncontrollable.

For 9 months after they arrived, my mother did not see another white woman, so one can imagine how glad they wore when other settlers began to arrive. The family they talked the most about was the Alex Millers. They brought with them several horses and he was most generous about loaning them. My parents never forgot the many kind things the Millers did for them when they so desperately needed help,

Nearly two years after their marriage their first child was born. He was the first white boy born in Faulk County. They named him Charles after his Grandpa Imus. I was the second child, born March 16, 1885. A few years later Mother's parents, Charles and Mary Imus, left Minnesota and came to South Dakota to live. Their youngest child, Frank, was only four days older than my brother Charles. Soon after they came, Grandma Imus inherited $600 from a relative in England. As was the custom in that family, the oldest girl was always named "Mary". If a relative died without a direct heir, his estate went to the oldest Mary. At that time $600 to them was a fortune. She tried to spend it wisely. She first bought a cow and a horse.

Three more children were born to this family: George Henry, Frances Elsie, with Blanche Irene being born in 1889. Typhoid fever struck the group. Dad and I were the only ones to escape. For days he nursed them all, trying not to fall asleep, but if he became too exhausted - and he often did - when he awakened he rushed to each one to see if they were still alive. Grandpa Imus was the only one who did not survive. There were no doctors or undertakers in the vicinity and since Dad was the only man who was able, it was his task to prepare the body for burial. He made a coffin and wrapped the body in a sheet and buried Grandpa near his home. He still lies there in that grave near the little town of De Voe, South Dakota. Before my folks left to move to Iowa, Dad built a heavy fence around the spot, but when he returned many years later all the buildings and the fence were gone, so it's impossible to find the exact location.

In a few years other settlers came and they had close neighbors, yet there were other hardships. In 1888 one of the worst blizzards on record struck this settlement. People, as well as livestock, perished. Next were the hot drying winds which ruined the crops - then came the grasshopper plague - and then a prairie fire in the late fall of 1889.

My father had two older brothers, George Henry and Francis (Frank) Hoyt who had good farms in Iowa. Since my folks now had a family of five little children, the brothers worried about them when they learned about the disasters. It was the winter of 1889. Finally they made a decision. Uncle Frank would go to De Voe and insist that Dad bring his family to Iowa. Dad was to stay with Uncle George and take care of the boys, Charles and George, while Mother would take the baby, Helen and Frances and live with Uncle Frank. Next spring Uncle George would move from his farm and go to Humboldt, where he had a job as Postmaster. Dad could rent his farm and take over his stock. From then on there was lots of work and many of their worries were over.

My brother George was the family fisherman, and kept the table supplied with all we cared to eat. We had two boats, one was usually kept locked, the other a flat bottomed one, was safe for kids. It had the name "Raligh" painted in big letters on one side. I loved to row up and down the river. The banks on either side were beautiful and it seemed so peaceful and quiet on the water. Sidney and I knew every foot of that part of the Des Moines River. We could tell where the deep holes were, or the shallow places, as well as the small stones or big rocks, the ripples and sandbars. There was one spring not far from the bank. We knew where we could catch bass, bullheads, carp or catfish. It amused us to see people fishing where we knew there were no fish.

George also liked to hunt. There was a small bayou not far from the house and it was easy to spot a flock of ducks when they stopped for the night. In the winter he enjoyed tracking rabbits, and brought in all we could use. Mother thought their meat made the best mincemeat. He spent lots of time trapping and every winter caught many muskrats and a few mink, so in the spring he had hides to sell. They weren't worth much at that time, but it gave him some extra spending money and kept him busy.

One evening George was chased by a muskrat in the water. It bit his leg and made a deep wound. Dad sucked the blood from it until he was sure there was no danger of infection. As I think of my childhood days, I know I was fortunate to have been one of our large family and to have had parents who thought only of our good, and were willing to make any sacrifice for us. We had few toys that came from a store, but we didn't need them as Sid and I had fun making our own. A few sticks and nails made good horses, and twine would make fences for our play farm. For people, we pulled weeds with fine roots for their hair, washed out the dirt, and cut the tops.

We all liked school and worked hard to get high grades. We also liked to attend church and Sunday school, and because we were healthy children we seldom missed either one. In spelling we often lined up for headmarks and won many awards.

James Monroe Lovrien Family, ca. 1906

During the summer when the corn was too high to plow, Dad paid us 1 cent a row to pull weeds, mostly Morning Glories. We could run down the rows and clean two at a time, earning 20 cents a day. That was good money for a kid. If we did a good job, he would take us all to the County Fair. We knew with money to spend we could have a good time. The boys always had their money spent by noon, but we girls were move saving and often brought some home. One time I spent some of mine for a ripe pear. I had never tasted one before. At noon we all sat on the ground and spread our tablecloths for a picnic dinner with friends.

Dad was proud of his team of driving horses, Kate and Lilly. They could make the 15-mile trip to Humboldt in a little over an hour. He could pass any rig on the road. We had a jumpseat buggy and with the big children holding the little ones on their laps, we could all get in. Uncle George had the prize show rig. His team was high stepping and coal black. When they were hitched to his shiny canopy-topped surrey with him driving, everyone knew who would get first prize. Again we kids waited with great expectation for him to drive out on the track in front to the grandstand to be judged. Of course he was the best and we showed our approval by clapping.

The car was troublesome, as many horses became frightened and were uncontrollable. Only George dared driving horse, Maude, until she became accustomed to meeting cars. She was a beautiful black mare that was born to a racing mare in the stables at Humboldt. Uncle Frank knew that the owner of the colt would sell it, and because he was so interested in fast horses, he thought Dad should have one too. Dad took his advice and bought the colt. When she was old enough to break, they had a difficult time as she resented pulling a wagon. All went well when they hitched her to a buggy. She was jet black and Dad was proud of her beauty and speed. When he left the farm, a Humboldt undertaker wanted to buy her to pull the hearse. He offered Dad the fabulous price of $250 but he turned down the offer and moved her to Eagle Grove. He kept her until she died.

As little children, we all loved books. Before the younger ones could read, I gathered them around me and read and reread the few books we had. We never tired of Black Beauty, Beautiful Joe, Little Women, Uncle Tom's Cabin and the Five Little Poppers and How They Grew. We took one magazine, the Youth's Companion and Dad subscribed to a weekly Chicago newspaper. Later we took McCall’s and the daily Des Moines Register. Dad never missed an item in that daily and since he had a good memory, he could discuss any event with knowledge. Life for him was not the same when his eyesight became so bad he could not read the paper.
My folks sent big mail orders to Sears or Montgomery Ward. For certain amounts, they were entitled to premiums. One time we chose a gramaphone with cylinder records. We loved music and had lots of records but the one we liked best was The Babbling Brook. We had many games to play. I think Carroms was our favorite. We liked Dominoes and Checkers too. For cards we played Somerset, Flinch and Authors. Any game played with a Euchre deck was taboo with Mother. We had a big blackboard and the little ones played Tic Tac Toe and other games.

One winter when I was old enough for Epworth League, its members put on a play. I was the leading lady and George the man. Because there were 15 or 20 in the cast, we had lots of fun practicing. We were invited to give it in the Opera House in Livermore. That was a hardship, as it was in the winter and we had to make the long trip with horses and buggies. We went there in the afternoon, but came home late at night. Nell Bowen and I rode with Noble Higby in a one-seated buggy.
When the first child, Charles, graduated from High School it was an important event for us. We all had new dresses for the commencement. Relatives came from a distance. Charles had the highest grades in his class, which entitled him to be Valedictorian. My parents were proud of him. It took place in the Baptist Church as that was the largest and newest place in town. Charles was the first child to leave home. When fall came, he enrolled in Des Moines College. The next summer he had a job selling stereoscopes and views. He rode a bicycle through the country. I think his assigned territory was Sac County. After two years he accepted a job as teacher in the Bradgate School.

Since there were so many of us in the family, we never lacked for something fun to do. When there was snow on the ground, George would hitch a team to the hayrack on sled runners and drive into town for a load of young people. Sometimes we were invited to a home for an oyster stew. On Sunday afternoons we liked to go with a group to the river when it was frozen over, and build a fire on the bank and skate. In the summer time we liked to get together and hike. Our favorite place to go was the Indian Mounds across the R. R. bridge. They claimed these were the burial places of Indian warriors. After some of our friends were grown, they told us how much they enjoyed going to the Lovrien farm. If their mothers had approved, they would have come every Saturday, as we had everything there for a good time.
Mother grew vegetables and apples to sell. I remember shelling peas and delivering a pint here and there to customers in town. She raised lots of chickens, dressed them and sold them for $.25 each. The year Neva was born the doctor bill was $10 and Mother sold enough cucumbers to pay it. When the wild grapes were ripe, we children kept Mother supplied with enough to make all of the jam that she thought we would use that winter.

Each year Dad raised enough cane for a big barrel of molasses. In the fall we children helped strip the leaves from the cane while Dad cut and packed it in the wagon. He took it across the river to a man who had a mill and would make it into sorghum. When Dad went back a week later, the barrel was brought home and laid on its side in the cellar. There was a spigot at one end. We used sorghum a lot for gingerbread and every Saturday Mother baked a big kettle of beans. By spring that barrel was nearly empty, and by fall it was all gone. Dad raised our beans and we used a bushel. He also raised 40 bushels of potatoes each year and they bought 25 sacks of flour, 46 lbs. each. At that time Sears Roebuck and Montgomery Ward sold groceries that were a better grade than we could buy in our stores, so they sent for a 24 can case of salmon, 10 lb. boxes of dried prunes, apricots and dried peaches whenever we needed them.

Aunt Agnes, wife of Uncle Frank, was a gracious lady. She was more of a homebody as she had a big family to take care of. Cora had married young and Flora died in infancy. There were four boys, Fred, Arthur, George and Frank, then a girl Genorie and two more boys, Orvis and Ned. Agnes was a well-educated, refined person and raising a big family on the Iowa prairie was a full time job for her. My Mother often said she was sure that no one ever had better sister-in-laws than she had. Even though they were busy, they always had time to help her when she needed it.

I remember the first time I called on a telephone. Blanche and I were spending a few days with Aunt Frances and she had one. Fred had opened his new law office in Humboldt and also had a telephone, so she called him and he talked to each of us. It gave us a thrill to hear him so clearly when he was several blocks away. A short time after that, Bradgate had a telephone exchange and we had a phone installed. We were on a party line and each one had his own ring. Ours was a short and a long. It was great fun to listen in on our neighbors’ conversation. If there was a series of short rings, we knew Central was making a special announcement. When you wanted to make a call, you used a little handle on the side to ring Central and she connected you with your party.

The next big improvement that I remember was the coming of the automobile. A friend of Blanche's had moved to Waterloo. She wrote that an automobile had gone through there and they had all gone to see it. We kids had no idea what they had gone to see. Mother told us it was a buggy that ran without being drawn by horses. The next summer I was playing with Ella Van Horn who lived beside the main traveled road when one came along and stopped. We got a long look at it as it would not start again without being pulled.

A few years later Charles Fuller purchased a Ford. Not to be outdone Dad bought one also. They were the first in that vicinity to have cars. Those first cars had no side doors on the front, the horn was on the outside and the side curtains were folded and kept under the seat. If one got caught in the rain, you got out and buttoned them on. Then you began to worry if you would slide in the ditch or if there was so much mud you might not make it up the next hill. Rain wasn't the only worry. When it was dry, the dust was so bad that the driver had to wear goggles to see the road. If one wanted to be clean on arrival, he must wear a long duster. Ladies tied a long veil over their hats.