I was born June 25 (according to the new calendar) in the area of [Ekaterinoslav] in the village of Neu Rosengard. My parents were farmers and my father had great interest and skills in that area. My mother also worked outside and helped along, and soon we had a nice little income. At the age of five I became very ill and had a high fever. My parents took me to a doctor and after some time I regained my health. When I was six years old my parents moved to Pluhof, to the village of Hamburg (#3) and that is where I began to go to school. My teacher was already old, his name was Enns. Because I didn’t enjoy school I tried to escape by crawling out on my stomach, and I succeeded! But when I arrived at home my dear mother sent me back, which wasn’t to my liking at all. On the way back, I tried to figure out how I could escape and I saw a hole that someone had dug. I jumped in, but, oh dear, it was not quite deep enough for me to be well hidden. A man came by and took me back to school. There was a barn close to the school and I ran in there and hid under the hay. But it didn’t take long and the teacher came to the barn, saw me and said, “Heinrich, get back to school!” The teacher had a sour watermelon and he gave each of us a piece and ever since then I enjoyed going to school.

I loved horses and always wanted to go along from the time I was very young. When my father didn’t take me along I would crawl under the wagon holding on with both hands and running with my feet. Because I was a small person, this worked quite well. Sometimes my father had travelled for a few miles already when a passerby told him there was a passenger under the wagon. After two years my parents moved to their own farm (they had previously rented land) located in Bachmut district, close to Jusowsk.¹ Our village was called Ignatyevka (#6). My father had lost a lot of money and had little to begin with.

A small creek flowed across our yard in the new settlement. Father dug a cellar nearby, put a roof over it and moved in with his family now consisting of eight people. After some time, there was a huge downpour and water flowed into our basement. Father had a hard time keeping us above water, and we all had to climb onto the table, but we managed.

My time to participate in the work arrived, and I had to ride the horse every day while threshing and hoeing. I soon got tired of wanting to go along but my dear father reminded me that I had always had that desire. One day, during the melon ripening time, I was riding a horse with one horse beside me. Both horses were dragging a large, round stone with which to thresh the grain. Two girls came with a large yellow melon which they wanted to show me. The horses got spooked and began to run. I, with my short legs, fell between the horses. Father saw the danger and within seconds he grabbed the reins and pushed the horses into the wheat where they stopped. This all happened very quickly and now they searched for me in the straw. The angel of the Lord must have stood guard over me. I was lying on the scale and holding onto it and that is how I was saved from death.

When I was twelve years old I contracted diphtheria. My sister Agnes died from it, but I stayed alive, even though the doctor thought I would die as well. When I was 14 years old I committed my life to the Lord. Pastor Peter Wiebe baptized me on 12 July 1901, when I was 18 years old.

The following winter I thought about America often and spoke to my parents about it. I told my father that once I had completed my service in the army I would leave Russia and go to America. Shortly after that my father asked me if I wanted to leave Russia. I told him that I had read about how different it was in America. All were equal, the rich and the poor, the learned and the unlearned. They did not treat each other the way the Russians do.

After some time, father told me that he and mother had discussed it and agreed that if I wanted to go to America I should not wait too long. Preparations were made and in May we were ready to get the papers. But how? A good friend, P. Niessen, thought he might be able to help. He drove to the city but returned without papers because the officials said I first had to do military service and then I could leave Russia. After my friend, P. Niessen left, my father said to me: “Well, my Heinrich, what do you say now?” In order to think about it I was quiet for a while. But after a while I said, “Father, if you give me time and money…” (In Russia we just always had to work, there was no time for anything else).

Father must have had his thoughts as to how this would all come about, with an inexperienced 19 year old who had never left home and had only attended the village school. He said, “You would like to try to obtain the documents yourself?” “Yes,” I replied. “Will you be able to do that?” I told him that I would not return without the documents. My father had to give me the first document, a paper he had to sign to show that he gave me permission to travel in Russia. The second paper I had to obtain from the village mayor. The mayor told me just to go home and work since my father needed my help. (His name was Martin Wiebe). I said, “Uncle Wiebe, I am not leaving until I have the papers.” (It was already evening by now). He said, “For night you will probably want to go home.” “No,” I replied, “Uncle Wiebe, I am not going home until I have the papers. Father has given me his permission in written form, and you as mayor have no right to refuse to give it to me.” As I stood there, he reconsidered, and gave me the papers, although he made some remarks about it.

Next in line was the Oberschulze, and since he wasn’t at home his secretary gave me the finished documents but told me that the Oberschulze would have to sign them. He had gone to another village to visit with the pope.² When I arrived there, they were both in a good mood and signed everything immediately.

Something else about this trip. My father wanted to go to the station to get wood because we were building a barn, and so I could go along with him to the volost (district) where the Oberschulze was. But because he was not there, I had to walk the rest of the way, which was ten miles. Since I now had three of the documents, I wanted to go to Stanoweg and had to travel by train to Jusowa.³ Since father had left me at the volost and I didn’t have much money I knew ahead of time that it would not be enough and I would have to save it as much as possible. I was hungry, walked to the train station without a ticket to wait for the Nadwerakel.⁴ He told me he didn’t have time, I should come later. But I knew he wanted money and I didn’t have any. I told him I could wait, he told me to leave, but I said I wanted his signature before I left, and so I stood there for hours. Finally, everyone was gone and I was the only one left. He got angry, I think he wanted to lock up, and told me to leave. He called me some Russian names that were quite vulgar, signed my papers, and I was done. By this time, it was dark. I walked along the road, not knowing where I was going, when all of a sudden, a Russian found me. I had actually hired him to drive me and thought he was long gone, but he had waited and was willing to drive me back since I had not yet paid him. We were not far along the road when he told me this was a dangerous area and he thought someone would soon be coming along who would want money. “Well,” I said to him, “then I’d better pay you now,” since I only had the amount of money I had promised him, and I paid him. “Well,” he said, “what if someone comes now?” “Well then,” I said, “I will give him my hat, that is all I have.” We drove along for a little while, then he stopped suddenly. “Get off,” he told me, “the train tracks are over there, you can go along the tracks, I’m not driving you any farther.” I thanked him and suddenly I was alone on a dark road. I had felt for some time already that I should leave the wagon as soon as possible. I walked along the tracks and thought to myself that there would be a station coming up soon. Lo and behold, it didn’t take too long. Around midnight a train arrived. I got in and drove along, but the conductor told me that without money I would not get far and I had to dismount at the next station. I arrived at the waiting room hungry and tired, sat down and fell asleep. I don’t know how long I slept, but it was four o’clock in the morning when I woke up. I found out that I was ten miles away from home. On this stretch to our village I had to go through two large Russian villages. This was not so good at night, but I decided to risk it. As I was walking along (it was the month of May) I had the thought that I should remove my shoes so that I would walk quieter, and I did that, and away I went. I hadn’t gone very far when I realized that three men were running after me, yelling at me to stop, but I ran as fast as I could (I had learned to do this when I was young, under the wagon) and I got away. When I arrived at home just at sunrise, my dear mother was still in bed. She was very worried about me, and when she heard everything about where I had been she said, “I have decided not to let you travel any more, I was very worried about you, without money or food—now give it up already and do not talk any more about travelling to America.”

When I had been home for a few days my father said to me, “Well, Heinrich, what now?” I replied, “When I have time and money again then I will travel to Ekaterinoslav to the governor to get my last papers and then I am going abroad.” “Well,” said my father, “then I will take you to the train station tonight.” (In the village we didn’t know the train arrival and departure times). So, we went at any time and waited until the train arrived. This station was ten miles away from our village, and after that I had to go 300 miles by train. Father discovered that if we waited two hours I could go with a freight train and arrive at Ekaterinoslav in the morning. I had never been in a large city before and lost my way. There were many Jews in this city and I met some of them in a restaurant. They thought I was another Jew and they gave me advice about how to handle the police, who always want money. When I arrived at the door of the front yard of the governor, the police, who was standing guard outside, sent me back with the comment that it was Friday. The Jew explained that I should come from the other side and when the guard called I should quickly open the door and go inside. The police called, but I was already inside and there was the second one. He asked me what I wanted, I asked for the governor, and he took me to his office. There I met a secretary, a woman, and I gave her my papers.

When she saw my name, she said in German, “A German going to Germany?” “You bet,” I said. “Good,” she said, “The governor is not here, but will be here in two hours. Here is a paper. With this you can go through the doors and in two hours you can come again.” I arrived in time, and everything was ready for me. In one day I was on the train with my papers on my way home. When I arrived at home my parents were surprised that I came back so soon and was ready for a trip abroad. This was in May 1903.

The last preparations were made quickly, money and whatever else was still missing. On 10 May 1903, I said farewell to my home. “In ten years” father said to me, “I will send you money and you come back for a visit.” Father and mother accompanied me to the train station. The name of the city from which I departed at age nineteen was Konstantinovka. The trip took me across Germany to Bremen and from there over the ocean to Halifax, Nova Scotia on the ship Asieria. It took thirteen days to cross the ocean. The trip was good. I did not get seasick and I found a friend, D. D. Neufeld. Strangely enough, many years later in Canada, he became my brother-in-law, even though he was married at that time. (His wife died and he married my wife’s sister).

There is so much I would like to say about Germany. I was in Bremen for eight days. I also drove through Berlin and Koenigsberg, but the people at that time were not polite toward those of us from Russia. Why, I don’t know, it was not pleasant. They were very bossy, always thundering their commands at me.

When I arrived in Canada everyone said “please” and “thank you,” yes, that is what I was looking for, and now I was here. The address I was looking for, and the place I wanted to go to was John Koop, Bingham Lake, Minnesota. In Halifax I had bought a ticket that took me to Winnipeg, with the idea that I would be quite close to my destination. When I wanted to buy a ticket and told the agent where I wanted to go, he knew nothing of such a city until I wrote it down for him. He told me through a translator that I would have to cross another border and I would have to present myself to the office of Uncle Sam. I did everything they asked me to do, paid and left. When all was said and done I had to run to catch the train that took me across the border. On 26 June 1903, I arrived in Bingham Lake, Minnesota at the home of John Koop. Mrs. Koop was my niece on my father’s side. She was the youngest in her family. I stayed with the Koops for two months. My payment was $55.00, and I was happy to have some money as mine was long gone. When I arrived at the Koops, I had to borrow one dollar from Mrs. Koop to pay the man who had driven me there. After that I worked for Peter Wiens with the threshing machine. That fall I earned $62.00. My third place of employment, and my third winter was with A. J. Wiebe, pastor of the M.B. Church. I worked for $5.00 per month. The people meant well. I had no extra expenses and had enough money left over to buy myself some clothes. I soon discovered what it was like there, but I enjoyed it. I took care of 17 horses, 40 head of cattle and 40 pigs. Everything was very well organized. Mr. Wiebe was always the first one to get up in the morning to take care of the livestock. He had the habit of letting his worker sleep until he awoke him. I was with them until threshing time and in summer I received an increase in wages. From there I went to North Dakota for threshing time. I worked for a Mr. Boldt and received $3.00 a day to stock sheaves. In North Dakota the harvest happened later and so it was harvest time when I arrived. I worked forty-two days for W. Bremer during harvest time, operating the threshing machine, at $2.75 per day. From there I went to Winkler, Manitoba. I knew some people there. Jacob L. Dyck was my half brother and had arrived from Russia that summer. His wife’s maiden name was Schellenberg and she had an aunt here (Mrs. Reimer) and that is why they came to Winkler, Manitoba. I stayed with the Dycks one month and drove to Minnesota once more. In spring I returned to Manitoba with all my money and the Dycks and I prepared to move to Saskatchewan to buy a homestead there. The homestead was located three miles south of Herbert. My brother had a wife and a child, but no money. I had the money and so we decided to build on my land. They moved onto the farm and I went back to North Dakota to earn some more money. In April of 1905 I seeded 80 acres with four oxen for $15.00 a month at the Jacob Martens’ farm in Herbert. When I finished that job, I left. In North Dakota I first worked for W. Bremer. In June I worked for A. Benke and in May with H. Reimer on the threshing machine. In July I painted at various places. After the threshing time I took a job to deliver the mail for Uncle Sam. I got a button on my cap and everyone had to make way for me while driving. I had to drive 40 miles every day. In winter it was very cold but I endured it until March.

During the time I was in the U.S.A. J. L. Dycks received word that Mrs. Dyck’s parents wanted to emigrate from Russia. The Dycks borrowed money and built a house in town to host their parents. The place where I lived was now empty except for me (although the furniture remained in the house). In Herbert I took employment with I. S. Wiens in the Land Titles Office. At night I drove back to my homestead. At that time there was a law declaring that one had to spend nights on the homestead for six months. If one plowed ten acres of meadow for three years then one received the Land Title. Mrs. Dyck’s parents arrived with two daughters. They bought a farm, two miles south, and began building immediately. At that time the paths went across the field and the path to my farm was between their house and their barn. Since we knew each other well, I often stayed with them for supper. In June their daughter, Neta, and I, agreed to get married and we were married by Ältester Benjamin Janz on 22 July 1906. We moved to my farm where we stayed until the month of November. Then I went back to town to work as a clerk in P. P. Kroeker’s store (later Kroeker & Co).

Because my brother Dyck and I were brothers-in-law he made a plan that we would go into business together. He bought a livery and feed stable and persuaded me to quit my job at the store and so we were together. Dyck stayed in the barn and I took over the horse and buggy and drove people. This is the time where the dear Lord held his protective hand over me and accompanied and protected me. Following are just a few of my experiences. At that time there were a lot of ranchers who tended wild cattle under government supervision. The cattle (approximately two to three thousand at a time) required a sulphur bath once a year due to diseases. That was a big job. They built large corrals into which they herded the cattle. It was dangerous to get the wild herd into the corral. One day, when I was helping (on foot not horseback) and watching a designated spot, a large ox ran past me and knocked me over, a whole herd galloping after him. A cowboy, trained to watch for danger, was there immediately. I got away with a scare and a hard knock. They all thought I was trampled underfoot, but the Lord held his protective hand over me. That day I was sent home because the person in charge thought I might have other injuries.

There were twenty-five miles to drive. After I drove out of the mountains I had to drive through a deep ravine. One of the horses stumbled and pulled the reins as well as the buckle through the ring on the harness and so I had only one rein. It was very steep, on both sides towering mountains, what now? The horses kept going faster and faster and I pulled on one rein as we began climbing up. When I arrived at the top the line was still caught even though I tried my best to loosen it. On this mountain there was a large flat area and I tried to steer the horses in as large a circle as I could manage. Miraculously, the rein loosened. I pulled the horses to a standstill and took a break, thanking God for the amazing rescue. That was the second miracle on one trip.

Another time I had driven sixty miles south of Herbert with two men (the first time I was north of Herbert). At that time the farms were very far apart. We only found one rancher and at night we found ourselves on open prairie thirty-five miles from this rancher. I didn’t know what to do as my horses were very spooked. I unhitched them, tied them together with one of the reins and tied the other around my leg. We then sat down in the buggy but it didn’t take long for the horses to spook and they pulled me along. Fortunately, they soon stopped and I realized the danger into which I had put myself. I could have died. I was so tired that I couldn’t help falling asleep, so I discussed it with the others and decided to tie the horses to the wagon shaft. We would each sit by a wheel and when the horses tried to pull away we would hold the reins. We sat until three in the morning when suddenly the pull was so strong that the reins tore and the horses were gone. It took us thirty days to find them. There were just the three of us with one buggy, and we didn’t know how far it was to the next farm. I told them I would walk to the rancher who lived thirty-five miles away. I knew the way, but it was the month of July and very hot. I left at 3 a.m. and had a long day ahead of me. As a young boy I could run fast and I took off in a horse’s trot. I had no food with me except for a small piece of cheese, so ate nothing. The higher the sun rose, the greater was my thirst. It was around three in the afternoon when I arrived at the rancher’s place. On the way I had to cross a fenced-in area of 28 miles, containing wild cattle. I thought I had seen my last days. I was able to wet my tongue with some very dirty water. When I arrived at the rancher’s place he was not at home. I sat down by the well, grabbed the pump and was finally able to quench my thirst. Then I was overcome by fatigue. I lay down and slept. I don’t know how long I slept, but after some time the rancher (Tom Walsch) arrived, woke me up and asked me what I wanted. “Tom” I told him, “I need a horse to ride home.” He immediately fetched a horse and saddled it. “Tom,” I said, “we’ll see each other again.” I rode another 30 miles to Herbert, there I put the horse in the barn, walked home, a block away from the barn, then went straight to bed. That is when I really realized how weak I was. The effort, the thirst, the hunger! The Lord gave grace and I was able to overcome the hardships I had endured. The second day I took a “sulky” (two wheels) with a horse and retrieved the buggy. The other two men were no longer there. It took me two days to get the buggy.

The next time it had to do with water problems again. But this time there was too much water, not too little. I drove sixty miles north of Herbert with a government agent. There we had to cross the Saskatchewan River. We couldn’t go across with the ferry and I thought we would return but the man said no. We drove to the second ferry. The ferry man came and talked with the man who was with me, and I discovered that he was a secret police agent. The ferry man had to take us across, but couldn’t do it with the ferry, so we went across by canoe. When I looked around I saw that another man was trying to cross the river with the horses and buggy. I just saw the two horses’ heads and the human head. I turned to the policeman and said, “We will lose our horses.” He calmly answered me that the government would pay for any losses. Luckily, we made it across. By that time, it was morning. Now we could walk on dry land further into the forest. He told me to stop, walked into the forest and disappeared. After a short time, someone came and asked me what I wanted. I told him that I had driven a man here and that he went into the bush. The man quickly ran back. I waited hours until the policeman (in plain clothes) returned and told me to feed the horses. He showed me a barn and went into the house. But, what was going on there? I felt bad to see a group of men with a bad smell I didn’t recognize. I thought that I wanted to get away from there as quickly as possible. When we left I asked him what he wanted at that place. He told me the neighbours were arguing over borders. However, I believe they were crossing borders of the law because that’s what it smelled like (homebrew). Now we went toward the river again and I was happy that it was dark, that way I couldn’t see the dangers of the river. The ferry man was not there, but the policeman knew what to do. He made a small fire and soon two men came with a canoe from the other side of the river and took us back again the way they brought us across before. I was thankful to God that the river separated me from those evil people. After five days we arrived safely in Herbert again.

Another time I took a trip in a blizzard. I no longer knew where I was going. I was alone. The horses would not give up. The farms were very far apart, but at midnight I saw a light and I knew that that is where I wanted to go. Sometimes I couldn’t see it but then it lit up again. It was very cold. When I arrived there, I was so disorientated that the next morning the dear man who lived there had quite a time explaining to me how I should go home. I wanted to take a different road, away from the city, this time with a sled.

Another time I was on the buggy with four other men seventy miles from the town of Herbert on the prairies. We wanted to look at some land when it began to snow. We wanted to hurry because we knew the danger of getting lost. If we did not find shelter we could freeze to death. I told the men who were looking for land that two should walk on each side of the buggy (half a mile behind it). That way they could still see me driving in the middle. I went straight south with the help of my compass. I drove for half an hour when I saw one of the men come toward me. I asked him “What’s wrong, and where is your partner?” He told me, “I’m not coming to you, you are coming to me.” Then I knew that he was lost. It was eleven o’clock in the morning and I went immediately to find his partner, but in vain. He was not to be found. We drove to the other side and there we found two men. So now we had to find the fourth one. We searched until four o’clock in the afternoon, but in vain. After some talk back and forth I said, “It’s better if one is lost than if we are all lost,” and drove toward the place where we had spent the night. It had cleared up and I told the three men they should look everywhere for the lost man. I drove as much as possible over the hills, and all at once I heard someone yelling, “Isn’t that a person over there?” I stopped and asked them to make some kind of movement with their hats to see if we would receive an answer. Sure enough, he gave the same sign back. We immediately drove back and with tears in our eyes we found each other. That was an amazing experience, hungry and frozen as he was, we were happy to have him back among us. We were so thankful to God for the protection he had granted us. When we went to rest I heard the men telling each other what had all happened that day and how they had given up hope that they would ever return home alive. When all five of us were in the buggy they said that they thought I too had lost my way and that we would never find our way back. When we returned to Herbert that morning (we still had to drive sixty miles) they told me that they never wanted to see this prairie again. Thanks be to God we arrived home safely. They drove away and I took others to show them the land because many very badly wanted to buy land. That spring I was home for only three days in three months. I think I was too inexperienced. I just saw everything from a positive perspective. One day in fall, when the days were short I drove a man to a rancher. It was twenty-five miles from Herbert and I had never been there. Fresh snow had just fallen. The last farmer lived nine miles from the city and at that time there were no roads, just tracks. We drove toward the ranch on freshly fallen snow, without a road. We saw cattle and piles of hay but no buildings. Finally, we came to a fence. I had heard that the fence was twenty-eight miles long. What now? We drove along to try to find a way, but in vain. We stopped and listened to try to hear animals bellowing. We walked over the snow. All at once my partner said “A horse has run here, but in the other direction.” We assumed it was a cowboy and his horse. We went in that direction, and luckily, we came to the buildings just after midnight.

My health suffered under all these difficult circumstances and I decided to sell my half of the business to my brother Jacob and move to a farm. This was in spring, but by fall we decided to move into the city of Herbert. When my brother was alone in the livery stable he was racking his brain about how he could get me back as his partner. He knew I would not want to go back to the barn, so he sold it and bought a machine shop so I could stay at home (i.e. I wouldn’t have to drive out to the country.) There we did a booming business for a couple of years, until 1913. I must add that my wife was often quite sickly in the last few years and in fall of 1912 we decided to go to California to get medical help. My brother Jacob sold half of the business and also ¾ section of the land, so we only kept 4 and ¼ with the buildings. We rented them out and stayed in the city. Since my wife had surgery by Dr. Abert in Paradise Sanitarium she was very weak and I stayed home until 1914. Then I took a position in D. Brownstone’s store. I really enjoyed this work, but my wife’s health left much to be desired and we decided to move to Oregon, U.S.A. However, I did not enjoy the work, especially in the saw mill. My hearing had weakened considerably as well. I left the family there, we had four children by this time, and went back to Herbert to take up my much-loved work in the store, this time at J. B. Miller & Co.

It was 1923 when a typhoid epidemic broke out in Herbert. My whole family became ill and Lizzie (Elizabeth, Lieschen) died in December. My wife died on 20 January 1924.

1. It is unclear what this location refers to.—Ed. ↩︎
2. He uses the word Papst. Obviously the Oberschulze was not visiting the Roman Catholic Pope. But in Russia, the Orthodox priest could be called “pop,” pronounced pope, which might explain his use of this term.—Ed. ↩︎
3. It is unclear what locations he is referring to in this sentence.—Ed. ↩︎
4. The meaning of this term is unclear. My guess is that word should be Nachal’nik which means chief.—Ed. ↩︎