The Pioneers Own an Iron Will by Emilie Goldapp

This is a newspaper article[1] found in a box in the vault that had held Daphne Garrett’s working files. Daphne had a sticky note on it indicating that copies of the article were to be filed in the vertical file under “Simmang,” “1854 Immigration” and “1853 Immigration.” Brackets within the text indicate handwritten notes written on the article. At the bottom of a photocopy was a business card with the name Wilbur L. Simank, Stillwater OK. Wilbur was a son of Edmund William Simank who died in 1970 and whose initials, EWS, appear at the bottom of the article.

Many thanks to Rox Ann Johnson of LaGrange for cracking the puzzle. All we have to do now is find the German language newspaper that the article was originally in. It was not the Giddings Deutsches Volksblatt.

The Pioneers Own an Iron Will.

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From Alice, Texas[1]

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            Here is another old settler who died, Mr. Lynn.[2] He was a widower for a long time and lost a son during the war. Several children survive him.[3]

            Ms. Minna Riedel is seriously ill in Yorktown Hospital.[4]

            Earlier this year, in the Free Press for Texas, we read that Mrs. Simang was celebrating her 85th birthday.[5]

            Two years ago at the same time we went to Nelsonville[6] to visit our father, so we stopped at Mrs. Simang’s to see how she was. To our horror we were told that she was hopelessly ill, so we did not bother ourselves any further.

            When we arrived at our father’s we found the same healthy and still quite fit, he was more like a 50 year old than 97 years old.[7] In the spring he lay down and in the summer he died and Mrs. Simang celebrated her birthday again this year.

            That’s the last one. She married a son from the families who emigrated from Saxony.[8] All three of them were relatives, Simangs, Warnaschs and Roeslers. [to Texas 1854][9]

            Uncle Simang[10] first emigrated, then the other two families followed on a small sailing ship.[11] The journey took 9 weeks. Everything had to be nailed down because the ship was swinging so severely. The passengers suffered much with seasickness.

            When the wind was calm and the sea was as smooth as glass and the ship was standing still, the passengers were plagued by lonely boredom and homesickness and sang to each other. The women cried and wanted to walk back if they could. Then the captain wished again for wind, which came soon and they became ill again.

            Finally they arrived in Galveston. From Galveston they went to Houston. There the ox carts were ready and we loaded them well with bag and pack. Their destination was to Fayette County, Cummins Creek. That probably took another week. I can still remember how my uncle[12] described the journey to us kids, how slow it was and how dull the area was.

            At last a house became visible and a man stepped out of it and shouted: “Compatriots, stop by, make lunch with us.” This was our first invitation in America, which we were very happy about and accepted with thanks. The man’s name Laas[13] and lived on the square, which was later called Garlin’s place.[14]

            We went on after the meal. We crossed Cummins Creek and soon saw our uncle’s home.[15] From a distance we saw a man sleeping under a tree. As we approached, we saw a mill where corn was ground. From this bread was baked.

            Who wants to eat such bread today? The poorest beggar could not get it down.

            Wheat flour was non-existent. Fortunately, they had brought rye seeds and they planted this, which flourished very well. Then the bread got better. Meat was never lacking. When they needed it, they rode into the woods, shooting a deer or turkey. But salt was nonexistent. They never complained about Indians, nor about depression. [to Texas 9 Sept 1854.[16] Papa[17] was 16 years old when parents came to Texas.]

            Then the war broke out; and it got even worse. The boys should all leave (not all went). My dad[18] has told of some who hid. From a family, the three oldest sons should go to war. The father was sickly and the mother had died the year before. So one of the boys hid. He dug a pit, holding himself bent in it by day, and working in the field at night when it was light. When it was dark in the house, he tanned leather and made and mended shoes.

            When the pension came later, he should also have received some. His name was probably on the list. Was he entitled to do so?

            The stuff the travelers brought along was all they had and they could not buy anything; because it was so expensive and they had very little money. So the women had to produce their spinning wheels and looms (who had brought one and made stuff, dyed it with a variety of weeds, which grew on sandy soil at Beeville.) Indigo was called …

            When the war was over, it got better; but only for those, where the man came home again. Many stayed away and never came back. These were hard times for the farmers. At that time everything had to be worked by hand plowing and a wooden harrow when there was no machinery.

            It should also be noted that all have reached an advanced age, despite having suffered such hardships, and were spared severe illnesses and settled all around in a radius of 10-20 miles and are also buried there. [Especially Good. – EWS. 2/7/55][19]

E. Goldapp[20]

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