The following memories were written by Edna (Herrala) Hoyhtya in 1983.
A tragic event which I do remember vividly, perhaps related by others too, was on a cold December morning in 1919 while father (Otto) was away on a preaching mission. Our home burned, caused by an overheated chimney. Mother hurriedly rang the “General ring” on the party line telephone, which was four long rings, and this meant that everyone on the line was to pick up the receiver. I assume that is how word spread, although she barely rang it and shouted, “Our hose is on fire!” I was sitting on the floor lacing my high top shoes when my sister Melma grabbed me from the back and carried me to the warm “Hack.” But I had one shoe off yet! As neighbors arrived, they’d come to the hack to console us little ones, and all I could think of was to say, “Ask Mother if she can get my other shoe.” Of course she couldn’t, and that was a small matter compared to the rest of the loss, as we lost everything on the second floor and most everything from the lower level. Sister Aune had already gotten both her shoes and overshoes on, so her shoes were put on my feet, although too large, and she had to clomp around in her overshoes! At that time we lived on what is now the Walfred Halone farm.
On June 21, 1924, another house in the same farmyard which we lived in then, was struck by lightning and burned, and every item was lost. After this fire, I remember Mother (Lydia) saying to Dad (Otto), “Not even a spoon is left,” to which Dad replied, “Neither is there anything left to use a spoon for!” The rest of that summer we lived in a borrowed “Cook car” and a three partition grainery. In the fall we exchanged places with the Andrew Johnson’s. Our family moved one mile west of that place, which was then known as the James Taylor farm, as it had a house (That farm is now know as the Hoyhtya farm). Andrew Johnson's came to live on the farm where the houses had burned, and they had a house moved on to it.
I graduated from Rolla High School in 1932 at age 16. About that time my future husband, Bill (William Hoyhtya) had come from Minnesota to work at the farm of his uncle Andrew Johnson (Niemonen) and his wife Hannah, who were our neighbors and which is how we met. We were married on July 12, 1933.
Bill and I lived in Baudette, Minnesota the first two years, where Bill was doing logging work. Our daughter Helen was born there on January 16, 1935. Back in North Dakota one morning in August 1935, my mother (Lydia) suffered a severe stroke in the midst of mixing bread dough. She was paralyzed and mostly bedridden and lost her speech, later learning only four or five words. Dad suggested we come to be with them to take care of Mother. On May 13, 1936, I had helped her from her chair to sit on the edge of the bed and told Marian to keep an eye on her needs while I went to the outdoor biffy, which we called “Mrs. Jones’ house. suddenly she yelled out to me, “Edna, come quickly!” I ran in, and Mother had laid backward on the bed and we realized the end was near. Dad had just come to the barn with his horses, having just finished the seeding for that spring. I called to him to also come quickly. He rushed in and we stood beside her bed as her life ended. Years rolled by and we continued to stay on the farm and eventually we bought the place.
In 1951 REA (rural electricity) came to the farms, which was a dream come true. That is a story in itself! We farmed there until 1973, when we rented out the land, retired, and moved into a house we had bought in Rolla, as Bill had a heart problem, and besides had reached retirement age.
In 1980, Bill’s heart started failing, and in January 1981, he went to St. Luke’s Hospital in Fargo for by-pass surgery from which he never awoke. Two weeks later, Jan. 27, 1981, he slept away.