I ‘washed’ clothes today. In fact, I often wash clothes, because it is easy. It requires putting the clothes in the washer, adding soap and turning the machine on. A reminder chime signals the time to move them to the dryer, select a setting and turn it on. Take them out promptly, and fold or hang. Done.
Mom’s laundry day was quite different. When I was a boy in the 50’s, she did not have a washer and dryer on the main floor. She had to take the clothes in baskets down some creaky old wood steps to the basement. The steps were not well lit, nor were any of the outlets GFI or grounded. She sorted the clothes, starting with the hottest water for whites, to which she added a bit of blueing. She soaked them in a tub on a chair. After soaking they were ready for the washing machine. That was a free standing machine that had a wringer that could be swung to various locations. She would take the whites and run them through the wringer before putting them in the wash water. Picture a square with four quadrants – 3 wash tubs and the washing machine.
The wringer seemed to have its own mind. If too much material fed in it would start wildly spinning around. Even though there was a safety release on it, it would eat fingers or hands if one wasn’t careful.
Washing was only the first step. Then the clothes were wrung out and put in the first rinse tub, then wrung again and put in the final tub, then wrung once more and into a basket. The clean, wet clothes had to then be carried upstairs and taken outside to be hung on a clothesline.
That process had to be repeated for each load of clothing. You can imagine that the setup process meant washing was done on a dedicated day. You are probably picturing a sunny day with blue skies and light breezes. Remember this was Minnesota – so many days were cold. The clothes literally freeze dried on the lines, then had to be brought in, thawed, and given a final dry on a rack over the furnace grate. Ironing was a separate and distinct job!
It is a miracle no one was electrocuted as there was often water on the floor in addition to handling wet clothing in proximity to an ungrounded electrical outlet!
Dad tried to help as much as he had time for, but he was often busy with his farm tasks, especially tending the animals.
Farm work at that time was not only physically hard, but dangerous. Uncle Henry Durand was chopping wood when a piece struck his eye. He permanently lost sight in that eye. I remember his beautiful pale blue eyes even though he died too young of cancer when I was about 8.
Mom often told this story. The main road that ran west from Medford was a gravel road that curved as it followed the Straight River. There was a high bank and drop down to the river just across the road from our house. When Mom was pregnant with Bob, she heard a tremendous commotion. She ran out of the house as Uncle Greg Gillen came down the road with a team of four horses and a hay wagon. They had gotten out of control for him, the outside horse pushing the team toward the bank. Mom saw the team, wagon and driver all go over the bank. The wagon was smashed, but Uncle Greg and all four horses, amazingly, were unhurt.
A teenage neighbor lost his arm when it was caught in a corn shredding machine. This was a piece of equipment that chopped corn stalks for silage. The chopped corn was fed onto an elevator and carried up to the silo. Other men were frozen in horror. Dad saw the accident from the hayloft and dashed to his aid. Mom rushed from the house and drove to the hospital while Dad sat with the young man in the back seat. There was no lawsuit as there would be today. He became a successful banker, and came to the funerals for both Mom and Dad, both of whom he regarded fondly.
At that time neighbors were very personally close. They worked together on farm jobs that required more hands, such as threshing time. [Local pronunciation made it sound like “thrashing”.] It took combined effort. One huge steam engine powered the threshing machine. In the early days all of the wagons and other equipment were horse drawn. Dad was the engineer of the steam engine, and he showed great pride and joy in that job. Sister Jan remembers the excitement of that huge engine slowly coming down the road. Its maximum speed was only a few miles per hour. The crew had a big noontime dinner at whomever’s farm was worked that day. The lady of the house cooked for the crew, often over a wood cookstove in the heat of Summer. There is an expression: “eat like a thresher.” The meal had to be hearty and plentiful! The movie, ‘Of Mice and Men’, with Gary Sinise and John Malkowich is outstanding and has pastoral scenes of harvesting and farming in that era.
Above: old photos of threshing. The huge steam engine is on the left.
Increased farm mechanization has eliminated a lot of the manpower. That has also changed the complexion of farm communities, eliminating much of the sharing between farm families.
Dad is on the far left. Uncle Henry Durand is fifth from the left.
Dad was ‘making’ fence, using a horse to stretch the barbed wire strand while Dad nailed it to the fence post. The horse started going around Dad, wrapping him in the barbed wire. Fortunately Dad had heavy gloves on. He pushed the wire away until he somehow cut himself free. Mom described him as a “scarecrow man” coming to the house with his ragged clothing.
The most serious accident Dad had was in the early 1950’s (after the family had polio). He reached into a corn binding machine and it caught his clothing, pulling his left arm in. He was strong enough to physically pull back. One of our old true blue neighbors happened to drive down the dirt road that ran by the farm, saw Dad, and turned the tractor off. They did not disassemble any of the machine, but simply pulled his arm out. It was black and blue, the size of a stovepipe, but he had no broken bones. Every ligament and tendon was stretched, though. As Dad aged he lost strength and feeling in his left hand and arm. We never, ever heard him complain. You lived life, you worked, you did your job. That was the way it was.