Farm Boy Comes to the City: Autobiography of Herman Witt

FARM BOY COMES TO THE CITY

Autobiography of Herman Witt

Herman Witt

Copyright © 2011 by Herman Witt.

Library of Congress Control Number:       2011907729

ISBN:         Hardcover                               978-1-4628-7245-9

                   Softcover                                 978-1-4628-7244-2

                   Ebook                                      978-1-4628-7246-6

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Contents

Preface

The Early Years Of My Life

Off To School

Winter Experiences

My Side Jobs In Wintertime

Unto Higher Education

My Work Apprenticeship Started On The Farm

The Start Of My Work Career

Continue Higher Education And Work Career

My Life As A Realtor

My Spiritual Life

The U In Jesus

Morris Cerullo Evangelism School

Holiday Trip To The Vatican

The Holy Land Tour

Mission Trip To Sri Lanka

Trip To Central America

Crusade In Nicaragua

Mission Trip To San Jose, Costa Rica

Mission Trip To Nagoya, Japan

Mission Trip To Grenada

South Caribbean Cruise

Cruise To Five Hawaiian Islands

Panama Canal Cruise

The Hand Of God In My Life

Underground Mine Experience

My Health History

Being A Husband And A Father

Giving Back To The Community

I dedicate this book to my two sons and my two daughters whom I love very much; they missed out on some things while I was out there trying to make a living for the family. I would also like to say thanks to my first wife for standing by me for thirty—five years. The labor of love that went into doing this book was done so that they would understand where I came from, how difficult it was to break away from the traditions of the past. A big thank-you to my present wife—firstly, for proofreading my writing and secondly, for patiently waiting for me while I was spending time doing this. A big thank-you to each of you for the part you all played in my life.

A special love to my four grandsons and granddaughter.

PREFACE

This book is an attempt to share what era I came from, how difficult it was to break away from the past traditions. My grandparents came to Canada in 1904 from Germany and homesteaded in Saskatchewan. They basically came with a few suitcases, maybe just a few boxes. It was a German settlement and pretty well all Roman Catholics. Low German, a dialect of Germany, was usually spoken at home and in gatherings. Having been born in the dirty thirties, as it was known, the saying was as a farmer, you were lucky if you got the seed back. Those were very difficult times on a farm, many crop failures, which meant there was very little money around for anything. Being the oldest in the family, I didn’t know any English when I started school, so it was hard to know what was being said. It took awhile to learn English and then start to learn other material.

At that time, you didn’t go to nursery school or kindergarten. Today the kids are much further ahead of what we were when we started school. A few other very important things were the following: the parents, because they didn’t have an education, didn’t know to guide us into different professions, being all they knew was small-time farmers and mostly mixed farming, which meant lots of hard work. There weren’t any student councilors to do aptitude tests to find out what vocation or profession a student was suited for. It took me a long time before I knew what I enjoyed most. The other big thing was the attitude that children were to be seen but not heard. I think today, it’s gone too far in some situations—not enough respect for parents and those in authority over you. We have come a long way in seventy-five years. Enjoy reading this book.

THE EARLY YEARS

OF MY LIFE

I was born at Humboldt, Saskatchewan, hospital on October 9, 1936. The firstborn of my mom and dad who lived on a farm. The community was Roman Catholic-German descent. This was a very difficult time for the farmers; it was known as the dirty thirties. The reason being it was so hot and dry, the winds blew the soil from the fields. I’m told you could hardly see the dust. This was the case all through the summer months for a couple of years. No crops those years. They were known as very difficult times. Food and gas was rationed; they got food tokens for certain foods.

The house we lived in was a small three-room house: a kitchen, bedroom for Mom and Dad, a living room, which was also a second bedroom with a potbellied stove on one side of the room. That was the heating system. The kitchen also had a wood-burning stove for cooking, baking, warming the water. On the right side of the stove was a reservoir that had water in it for washing, etc. There was a small table in the kitchen. No running water, no plumbing. A five-gallon pail was the collector for the disposal water. I can remember Mom having to wash out dirty diapers and reuse them again when they were dry. With no electricity, they used coal oil lamps, which didn’t give much light. You couldn’t turn them up too high or the glass would get all full of soot. Can you imagine having to find your way in the dark to light them or find your way after you put them out?

Getting back to the wood-burning stove, the wood would burn down, and it would get cold in the house. So in the middle of the night, Dad would get up and put more wood on the fire. The wind was howling outside and the snow flying.

Oh, I almost forgot to mention about the toilet. One that fits all sizes, another five-gallon pail. You usually had to find it in the dark. There were no deodorizers; it had a smell of its own, usually not pleasant. Oh yes, the floor was cold; no thick warm carpets. You put off going as long as you could. There was a good reason for that.

I can’t forget one morning a few years later, my dad wanted to speed things up a little. I believe there were now three of us in a bed. The bed was close to the stove. Dad thought the stove had gone out, so he used a gas can to get a fire going faster. Remember, the three of us were sleeping. He poured a little gas on the wood, not knowing that there were some embers smoldering in the bottom of the stove. When the gas hit the embers, they exploded. That scared him. With the gas can in hand, he quickly pulled back causing some of the gas to spray on the bed. Naturally the fire followed the gas unto the bed and the covers caught fire. My dad, all of a sudden, became a fireman. He rolled up the blankets and snuffed the fire out. The explosion of the gas, of course, woke us up only to find our bed was on fire. Our screams were the sirens. Maybe the cattle in the barn heard us. The neighbors were too far away to hear anything. My dad became a hero that day since he saved our lives. The house and everything could have gone up in smoke. Things did improve when Dad was able to buy coal that gave better heat and lasted longer. I can’t remember any other incidents, so things must have gone a little better.

OFF TO SCHOOL

The one-room school was just a quarter of a mile (not a kilometer) from home. I had walked that many times before. So, of course, I walked by myself. Our cousins lived in the area, so I knew them. I came into the school, and there is another potbellied stove. They seemed to be very popular. I recognized some of my cousins. I spoke to them in low German, the language we spoke at home. Being the oldest and the first one to start school, I was very shy to say the least. The teacher rang a bell; it sounded like the bell that hung around some of the cows’ necks at home. The lady teacher said something, and the other kids went to sit down in the rows of desks; I went too. There were grades 1-8, so those kids who had already been in school knew where to go. We, new kids who were going to be in grade 1, didn’t know where to go. The teacher seated us.

Now remember, I can’t speak English, so I didn’t know what she is saying, so I’m not responding to her. She took me up to the blackboard and drew a circle and made me stand up there with my nose in the circle. Of course I got tired of standing there. I guess I was a slow learner, but I got the idea to erase the circle with my nose. Now being it was a one-room school, the other kids noticed what I had done and they all started to laugh. The teacher soon figured out what had happened. She must have thought, I’ll fix that. She came and drew another circle and moved me over to it. Well, this time, I learned fast and this one I didn’t erase. She soon led me back to my seat. She said something to me, but I didn’t know what she said. I got through my first day of school. Today that would be looked at as harassment or abuse. When I went home after school, I had a story to tell Mom and Dad about the embarrassment that I experienced because I couldn’t speak English. Well, from then on, my parents spoke English to us. My siblings could speak English when they started school.

Another interesting point, the desks were built for two kids to share. The top of the desk was like a lid. When you lift it up to take something or put something back, anything you had on top would fall off. I shared a desk with my cousin. She was nice; we shared the same desk for a