Ramona correspondent
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The descendants of Alex and Susie (Riffel) Hanschu are a spirited bunch of folks, talking over the top of each other, interjecting opinions and embellishments, as they took turns telling the stories of their ancestors at the family reunion Sept. 28 at the Trinity Lutheran Parish Hall in Ramona.
My sister and I were invited to join the gathering to write stories about Alex and Susie since the Hanschu family was sponsoring the October-December issue of the Ramona News, and their ancestors would be the featured family. This final issue of 2008 is slated to be the last issue of the town newsletter, which my sister and I began when we moved here in 2000.
The newsletter has been very successful, surviving all these years on loving donations, primarily from folks who used to live in Ramona, and the donation of Pat’s and my 40+ hours it takes to create each issue, our computers, and even money, if and when we needed more postage or printing to get the newsletter to 300+ folks.
Recently Pat and I assessed our lives, and the endeavors we support through our volunteer efforts, and decided it was time to makes some changes. As we talked about the newsletter at the Hanschu reunion, Harold Hanschu, who was born and raised in Ramona, said he didn’t want to see the newsletter stop.
“Maybe you could go to some of the Ramona farmers and ask them to sponsor an entire issue,” suggested Harold, pointing to his brother, Junior. Hanschu family members did put their money behind Harold, as they handed me well over the typical $100 that folks normally give to help sponsor an issue that costs around $400 just to print. “The Ramona News needs to keep going,” urged Harold.
Pat and I do love writing the stories of the old-time families in Ramona. They were just an unusual breed, but then again, that could be said about Ramona-ites today. Maybe the old-timers are just more fun to write about because they’re gone now, and we don’t have to live with them, here and now, up close and personal. Living with strong-willed people is usually quite challenging, and the folks who tamed this land were, if nothing else, strong-willed folks.
Even as I write this, I am thinking of my own family, who were rooted in Ramona. My parents and grandparents had opinions and habits that were sometimes difficult to mesh with. The “rub” could appear in a flash when discussing politics or religion, or even when approaching a day’s work — our ways of doing things were just different.
My daddy once said to me, during a spirited discussion, wherein he wanted to hold the predominant opinion, “I don’t want to know what you think — I already know what you think!” and he didn’t want to hear my opinion again!
Today, I can laugh about that story, partly because my daddy is gone, and partly because I own and recognize my own stubborn and perfectionist nature, that’s a lot like his. Perhaps I’m learning to also laugh at myself.
Laughter was the predominant noise at the Hanschu reunion as folks told the stories that, at the time they were lived, could probably be a bit annoying. Like the habit that Alex Hanschu had of checking up on his sons and their work habits.
“Grandpa would show up in the morning to see how work was progressing,” said Rick Hanschu, who lives and farms on the ground that was given to his dad, Wilbur, from his father, Alex. “He’d ask about the milking and wonder if it was done.”
“All of us boys had milk cows,” interjected Junior Hanschu, also of Ramona.
At this point, Paula (Hanschu) Morgan, continues the story, because it was a story shared by her father, Paul, and all of Paul’s brothers and their wives.
“Grandpa would come across the field — his farm was just southeast of our place — and as he came in the front door, my dad would be going out the west window of the house, heading for the barn, so that when Grandpa asked my mother if the milking was done, she wouldn’t have to lie about it. She could just say that my dad was out in the barn right now!”
And relatives all burst out in laughter, nodding and adding, “Yep, my mom and dad told the same story.”
Rick added that on one occasion his grandfather came to the house at about 9 a.m. to get his dad; they were going to do something together. In the course of the conversation Grandpa Alex would ask if the milking was done, and Wilbur would intimate that it was taken care of, as they walked out the door toward the car. Who was taking “care of it” was Wilbur’s wife, Burma, who had to go do the milking after her husband had driven away with his dad.
“Ask Rick what Burma and Wilbur were doing that caused them to get up so late in the morning,” teased Harry Hanschu’s daughter, Karen Ann Karber. Karen’s dad was the oldest Hanschu son, and she now owns the land that was given to him.
Hard work was how folks survived, and the work was strenuous and non-stop. Harold and Junior, the last surviving sons of Alex and Susie Hanschu, told about their father’s work ethic.
“Harold and I put up a basketball hoop in the hayloft of our barn,” began Junior. “We thought it was safe to put it there, because Dad always sent us up to get hay when he needed it, saying he was too old to climb the ladder.”
“One day he came home and we didn’t hear him,” carried on Harold. “He didn’t seem to have any trouble coming up the ladder that day, with a crow bar in hand, to tear down our basketball hoop! I can still hear the creaking noise of nails pulling away from wood, as he pulled down our hoop. Then he promptly went out and bought 80 more acres of land! He figured we had way too much time on our hands!”
“You know, every child — and there were seven who got land because our brother, Dan died before he could marry — got 80 acres of land when they got married,” said Junior. “And then they were expected to rented 80 more from Dad,” added Harold.
It is on the Hanschu farm land that several of Alex and Suzie’s descendants still live around Ramona: grandson, Rick and wife, Barbie live on the land that was given to Rick’s father, Wilbur; Paula Morgan and her husband Max, along with Paula’s mother, Gloria, live on the land given to Paula’s dad, Paul; and Junior and Jeanetta, eventually built a new home on the original farmland where Alex and Susie began their family.
Alex and Susie moved into Ramona in 1964 — living in the house on E Street where I now reside. The doorbell at my home still has “Alex and Susie Hanschu” inscribed above it. I’ve never removed the plate, even though the doorbell stopped working long ago — it’s a piece of history. The elder Hanschu made the move into town when their youngest son, Junior, got married to Jeanetta. Junior and Jeanetta took up residence in the home where Junior and his siblings had all been raised.
“When Jeanetta and I built our new home in ’97, I gave my parents’ old two-story house to someone in Carlton,” reminded Junior, and I recalled the day that I saw the big white house came across the railroad tracks going west — a site so amazing we ran for our cameras.
There were nearly 50 people at the Hanschu reunion this weekend, with relatives representing all but two of the Hanschus’ children. “There were descendants from Art, Harry, Harold, Wilbur, Junior, and Paul,” said Lisa Hanschu. The other two children, Dan and Velma were not represented.
Junior had a little “Hanschu riddle” he’d tell about his siblings: “There are seven Hanschu brothers, and they each have a sister. How many children are there in the family?” The answer, of course, is eight — Velma, fifth in the lineup, was surrounded on either side by brothers! Too bad, she’s no longer living — she’d probably have some hum-dinger stories to tell about the rowdy Hanschu boys!
Family reunions often focus around stories, because that’s how we keep the past alive. But there’s also a need for new traditions that make new memories — which is what ties the younger generation to the older.
Rick Hanschu and his daughter, Danelle, saw to it that the little ones had great fun at the Hanschu reunion. The kiddies got to ride a miniature horse!
“Little kids are always bored at reunions,” said Rick, “so I volunteered my daughter, Danelle, to provide entertainment with the miniature horse that she and her husband, Mark, bought for their three children. “
Rick took his truck and trailer to Ellsworth where the Leikers live, and transported the little horse, which also had the most darling colt. No doubt about it! The kids will remember this reunion!
Family gatherings like this keep the young ones returning to the place of their beginnings — where the stories, new and old, weave them into the family tapestry.
In small towns like Ramona, any stranger is noticed, and Nick was no exception. From my office at the former bank building, I see the comings and goings on the street, and a couple of weeks ago I noted the young stranger with a backpack walk into town from the east, turn south, and eventually come to sit on the old bench in front of the Barbershop Gallery. It seemed a fitting place for someone to rest, since the bench had once been the resting spot for customers at the barbershop when waiting their turn in Curly Bernhardt’s barber chair.
I probably wouldn’t have even spoken to the lad, had I not needed to drive to the south end of the street to deliver something to city treasurer Fern Leach. To drive right by him and not even speak, seemed almost impolite. So I rolled down my window and asked if he would like a warmer place to rest — suggesting he use one of our guest houses — it was raining and cold that day.
“I’d better stay outside,” said Nick with an enchanting British accent. “I’ve got a long walk ahead to McPherson and if I go inside and get all toasty, it will be that much harder to come back outside again.” Nick was 81 days into his walk across America, when he came to Ramona. “I’m halfway to my destination,” he said.
Well, needless to say I was intrigued now! What would possess someone to take such a trek? I leaned out my car door window — while Nick seemed to prefer cold weather to hot, I was definitely staying in my warm car — and began asking questions. I learned that Nick was both British and American — having been born in Michigan, of all things, but eventually returning to England where he still resides. I soon discovered that Nick’s walk across America was a charity walk for the Royal British Legion and American Legion Legacy Fund.
The idea to undertake such a walk — which he’s been doing for more than a year, if I understood correctly — was his brother, Chris, affectionately known as Topper, who is a soldier in the Coldstream Guards and recently returned from a tour of duty in Iraq. Fortunately his brother returned home unharmed, but Nick started thinking about soldiers and their families who had not been so fortunate. Walking across America seemed a novel way to raise money.
I offered to cook a meal for Nick, but he’d just come from Burdick where some folks took really good care of him, and he was eager to get back on the road again. I couldn’t just let him walk out of town with nothing, so I opened the Barbershop Gallery.
“Here’s gourmet beef jerky for the road,” I said as I handed him a package of Brunner Beef Jerky. “It’s fabulous beef jerky made by our local cattle barons. An edible souvenir from Ramona.”
That was the last I saw of Nick. But the other day I found this scrap of paper in my car where I’d written down his website www.nickwalksamerica.org.
If you log on and go to day 81 in his daily blog, you’ll see the “ghost town of Ramona” mentioned. Don’t believe everything you read, though, because he says he received beef jerky from the mayor’s daughter (that’s me). Evidently he didn’t catch the “sister bit” from our brief encounter.
On his website Nick explains that this trek is not about politics or religion, it is simply about helping those British and American soldiers and families that need and deserve it. “I’d rather be poor and happy than rich and sad. I’m half way there, I’m poor!” says Nick. His website is a fun read — a delightful sense of humor.
If you’re looking for excitement in October, I have some suggestions. Ramona resident Norma Bird-Wright is closing down her antique shop at 5 South Broadway in Herington. The auction is at 10 a.m. Saturday.
That same weekend, Ramona will be represented in the Lincolnville Octoberfest Parade with a float depicting Redneck in Ramona, the town’s signature 4th of July event. How about joining us?
Pat and I, along with Tooltime Tim, and Ramona’s oldest citizen, Tony Meyer, entered the Hope Festival a few weeks ago, and won third place in the parade, with our Redneck entry.
On Oct. 11 the Tunes ’n Tea party will be held at 2 p.m. at the parish hall. This is the first-ever fall tea party that my sister and I have held in Ramona. The reason for this departure from tradition is because Mike Kutzel from California will be visiting and entertaining on the piano, during the tea. We still have a few seats available. Call 785-965-7110 for reservations and an invitation.
The menu includes: fall fruit scones with clotted cream, lemon curd and jam, autumn bisque, chicken Parisian crostini, olive tumbilini, keyboard sandwiches, Southwest black bean and turkey sandwiches, apple Bavarian tort, maple-pecan squares, chocolate tuxedo cake, pumpkin cookies, Lady Earl Gray tea, herbal blackberry iced tea, all served by kids from Ramona.
I’ve had calls from folks asking if we’re doing the Scarecrows on Parade in Ramona this year. Participation has lessened the last couple of years, making it challenging to offer it as an event, so we’ve decided to give it a rest this year.
And that’s the news from Ramona, where some traditions continue, some end, new ones may spring up, but one thing never changes — a traffic jam is always two parked cars and a dog in the road.