Edward Ellingson Enger died of cancer in 1935 at the age of 62 and his wife Hannah became a widow at the age of 55. Ed and Hannah had been married 37 years at the time of his death and their lives had been blessed by the birth of six children. As in most families, the Enger family had its share of good times and bad, and there were also times of tragedy, especially involving their two youngest children, Stanley 1911; and Vivian 1916.
Stanley James Enger 1911-1927 Vivian Enger before polio, 1919
In 1920 Vivian contracted polio, a little-known disease at that time, which left her with a crippled leg at the age of 4 and the necessity to wear a brace to help her walk for the rest of her life. This was considered a tragedy at the time, but due to the loving care of Ed and Hannah, and the courage and tenacity of Vivian herself, this story turned into a triumph. I will have more to say on the subject of Vivian later.
The second family tragedy for Ed and Hannah occurred on November 3, 1927 with the death of youngest son Stanley James at age 16. I heard the story from Grandma Hannah when I was a little girl. Stanley had argued with his Dad about something earlier in the day and then ran outside. When dinner was ready Ed and Hannah both called for Stanley but he didn't come in the house. Finally Ed went outside to look for him and when, on a hunch, he crawled up the ladder to the hayloft which was one of Stanley's favorite hideouts, he found his son's body hanging from a rope swing. Ed being a former fireman and deputy sheriff, was familiar with first aid and revival techniques, but his efforts were to no avail. Grandma told me that Grandpa Ed was beside himself with grief, and forever after blamed himself for the argument with his son.
Grandma Hannah always insisted that Stanley's death was accidental, that he was playing with the rope in the barn and got tangled up in it. My Dad and other family members also stuck to that version of the story whenever it was brought up. Only when I obtained the official death certificate from the State of Minnesota in the 1990's did I learn that the coroner had ruled the death a suicide. The cause of death: "Suicide by Hanging" and underneath in parentheses, "some possibility of accident." (I rather suspect that this notation was added after the fact when the parents objected to the coroner's ruling.) Whatever the real story we will never know as the truth died with Stanley, but this tragedy left a permanent scar on the hearts of his parents the rest of their lives.
Stanley Enger's obituary, published in the Worthington Globe
Stanley Enger, sixteen year old son of Mr. and Mrs. Ed Enger, was found dead late Thursday afternoon, November 3, under circumstances which have already been considerably discussed in the community. Funeral services were held Sunday at the Evangelical church, conducted by the Rev. H. A. Zieske. The church was filled to its capacity, and floral tributes were profuse.
Stanley was born August 10, 1911, at Hanley Falls where he spent his first ten years. Six years ago he accompanied his parents to Worthington, where he was residing at the time of his death. In the immediate family he is survived by his father and mother, three brothers, William Enger of Kindred, N. D., Arthur Enger of Pipestone, and Earl Enger of this city, and two sisters, Mrs. Herman Doeden and his little sister, Vivian, at home.
In fact this is the first time death has invaded the family for two generations on both sides of the house. Also surviving is a great-grandfather, aged 94 years.
Appropriate music was furnished by a quartette choir composed of Mr. and Mrs. Zieske, Paul Schaefer and John T. Doeden. Pall bearers were the six remaining members of the Sunday School class to which the boy belonged--Leslie Apel, Roy Doeden, Henry Doeden, Clarence Anton, Osborne Pfeil and Russell Zieske. Interment was in Worthington cemetery.
The victim of the tragedy was a boy of unusual promise, friendly, likable and of a happy disposition. In the recent series of meetings conducted by the Evangelical church, he was one of those taking a stand for the Christian life.
Vivian's story ended on a different note, one of victory over the crippling disease of polio and a life of remarkable success and accomplishment. Vivian Enger Erbes passed away in August, 2011, at the age of 95, leaving a legacy of a 64-year marriage to her husband Clarence, a loving family, a long business and political career unique for a woman in her generation, and many friends.
In the fall of 2008 I went to visit "Aunt Tootsie" to help her sort through her boxes of old family photos and treasures that she had accumulated over the years. She was living in a nursing home in Worthington by then as her body was failing her but her mind was as sharp as a tack.
Vivian still kept her home in Worthington just as she had left it when she went to the nursing home and she always hoped and talked about being able to go back there and live out her days. Her son and his wife, Steve and Jo Erbes, traveled from their home in the Twin Cities area nearly every weekend to take care of the place and they would bring Vivian home while they were there. During my visit Steve took several days off of work so he could bring Vivian home to stay at the house and he stayed with us to take care of her and cook for us while we tackled the family history.
Did we ever find some treasures! It was so delightful to see Vivian's reactions as we uncovered a photo or clipping which would trigger an old memory and in turn lead to a memorable story. I brought my laptop computer and kept a scanner handy to make copies of things I wanted for my own history files.
In my estimation the top find of the entire week was a typed manuscript entitled "Vivian Erbes Remembrances." She didn't recall when she wrote it, but it provided a first person account of her life-changing and lifelong battle with polio.
To preface the story Vivian told me that she always thought when she was a child that she came down with polio because she disobeyed her father! The family was moving from Rice Lake Ranch into town in Ryder, North Dakota, and several people had come over the night before they left to have a little going away party. Vivian was with some of the children outside and they started playing a game where one would lay on the ground while the others would jump over them and they would take turns doing that.
The rest of the story verbatim, from Vivian's account:
"Dad came outside and told us it was too cold for us to be on the ground and we would get sick so we got up, but when he went in the house we started again. The second time he came out he made all of us come in the house. During the night I woke up with a terrible headache. I went to my parents' room and woke my Dad and told him how badly my head hurt. He told me to get in bed with him and Mom, which I did, and I did go back to sleep."
"In the morning when Mom came in to wake me up I had a temperature and told her I did not feel well. She carried me to the kitchen where it was nice and warm from the cookstove and she sat in the rocking chair and held me for a while. I wanted to get down from her lap and when I tried to stand my right leg would not support me. She thought my leg had gotten numb, perhaps from the way she had held me. She rubbed my leg for a while then put me on a little kiddie-car which I had. I pedaled with my left leg and the right one dragging along. She became very frightened and called my Dad. They called a doctor who said it was rheumatism. Mom did not believe him as I had no pain. We were in the process of moving into town that day, so as soon as we got into the house in town they called another doctor who admitted he didn't know what it was. He warned my mother not to touch the leg because she could spread whatever it was over my entire body."
"My parents called the State Health Department in Minot and they sent a doctor out. He diagnosed it as infantile paralysis or polio as it was later known to be. It was an unfamiliar disease to him but he did put us under quarantine. Before he posted the notice on the front door, he let Dad and my brothers out as they had jobs. Brother Stanley and Sister Hazel could not go to school, so Mom and the three of us were confined to the house for the first month, then an additional two weeks. Dad and Bill, Art and Earle would come to the house and talk to us through the window each evening. After several days I developed terrific pain in the paralyzed leg and nothing the doctor recommended helped. My poor mother was on the job day and night trying to alleviate the pain. Nothing seemed to work."
"I told Mom one day that I bet Grandma Larson would know what to do for the pain, but Grandma lived several hundred miles away in northern Minnesota. Mom said that if the doctors we had didn't know what to do for the pain, she didn't know if Grandma (Mattie) could help, but to please me she did write to her. Grandma wrote right back saying almost the same thing, that if the doctor's didn't know what to do her remedy probably wouldn't help, but she suggested trying it anyway. By that time Mom was ready to grasp at any straw that she thought would help. Grandma's suggestion was to rub my leg with warm kerosene--as warm as I could stand it. Mom put the kerosene in a tin cup and set the cup in a pan of boiling water. She then rubbed me from hip to toes with it, then wrapped my leg in some warmed red flannel. In a few minutes I fell asleep and slept for hours--the first relief from pain I had. When I would wake and cry because my leg hurt again she would repeat the treatment and it gave me immediate relief. Mom thought perhaps when she took off the flannel my leg might be blistered from the kerosene--but the skin wasn't even red! I thought my Grandma Larson was about the smartest person in the whole world."
"While I was still confined to bed with the polio I also came down with measles and the pneumonia. I think the measles prompted the doctor to add the other two weeks to the quarantine. During the time we were in quarantine our neighbors, who owned the only store in town, would bring our groceries and our mail from the post office. Their son, a teenager who helped out in the store, would bring the groceries and the mail and put them on the front porch and run as fast as he could!"
Vivian at Rice Lake Ranch in 1920
before polio, with Effie, Bill and Art Enger.
Vivian with her mother and sister Hazel,
wearing the leg brace after polio
"When my mother would wash clothes and hang them on the line Mrs. Olson would not let her little girl outside to play. They were so afraid that the polio was contagious, and who could blame them? It was a frightening disease which no one--not even the medical profession--knew much about."
"It was such a joyous time when the quarantine sign came off the door and Dad and my brothers could come home again. They had been staying in the bunk car with the bridge crew on the railroad--and they were happy to get home again. This was not too long before Christmas. I had not been out of the house since I had become ill and Dad promised they would take me to the Christmas program at church. That is the first Christmas in my memory. I got gifts from people in town we didn't know because they all knew about the ordeal we had been through."
"I had asked Santa for a doll whose eyes would close and would have brown curly hair. My parents did not think they would be able to get such a doll in Ryder as it was such a small town with only one store. A few days before Christmas a big box came from my Uncle Smith Larson (mom's brother) who lived in Hibbing, Minnesota many hundreds of miles away. And can you guess what was in the box? A doll exactly as I asked for. My parents had told no one about my Christmas wish so they were amazed. Who says miracles don't happen?"
"That Christmas Eve is one which is etched in my memory as no other ever has. Maybe it was the only Christmas I really remember, but it was so special. Dad put a box on our sled. They set me in the box, covered me with a warm quilt and set out for the church which was a short distance from our house. It was a wonderful winter evening--a light snow falling--and as we neared the church I could see the lighted candles in the windows and could hear the organ playing. I don't remember anything about the program or any other Christmas festivities, but I never forgot that sled ride to the church, the snowfall, and the music."
More of Vivian's story in another posting!
No comments:
Post a Comment