Oral History as related by Ruth Moeller to Abby DeJong in October, 1996.
I was born in Crandon, South Dakota on September 14, 1911. I had ten brothers and sisters, four boys and five girls. The table was full at every meal. Our house was very small. There was two bedrooms and a kitchen. So that`s where I grew up.
We played ``pum pum pull away`` and ``Annie I over``. We had swings, we would sit in big tires and roll down the hill. We`d play cards, we`d fight, we`d do chores, I rode horses for as long as I can remember. We`d herd cows back to the pasture which was about three miles away after we were done milking them. This was hard for the simple fact that we had to milk the cows and still get to school before the bell rang. The weather was hot and dry, no rain, not nothing. That lasted a long time.
I just hated boys. My sisters had boyfriends and the next thing you know, they`re getting married and having kids. I said that`s not going to happen to me. That`s when I decided to go to nursing school. I went to nursing training in Mitchell, S.D., in 1929. It was a Catholic hospital, a wonderful place. All we had to furnish was our uniform and clothing. We rented one room at a preachers house. . . three of us slept in one bed. We didn`t have any luxury things, everybody was in bad shape. It was hard times and bad years.
After we were in training for three months, they would give us a cap, that was when they wanted to see if we would be a good nurse or if we would get scared and quit. At first I`d run my legs off because I didn`t understand the ways to give the drugs. One morning I was taking temperatures and I came upon a patient who had just died, and his wife was still sleeping in a cot beside him. I was petrified, I didn`t know what to do . . . I was just a green nurse. I reported it to the Sister and she asked, ``Did you say prayers for the dying?`` I said ``No, Sister, I don`t know what to do,`` and I thought I would get kicked out of training because I didn`t say prayers. She said ``this will be excused, but whenever a patient is real bad you are always supposed to call a nun or priest.`` I graduated in 1932. I got out of training and there was no work for nurses. If you were lucky enough to find work, you got about six dollars a day as a special nurse. Since I couldn`t get any work anywhere, I got a job working in the meat packing plant. I only worked there for a couple of weeks. When my girlfriend told me of an opening in Belle Fourche, I came in August of 1933. When I started working here, I got my room and board. I worked six hours a day and my wages were twenty-five cents an hour as a graduate nurse. I was just working for something to eat. Since I was the extra nurse, they could call me in day or night for surgery. I would assist in surgery. If they needed me to help deliver a baby I would help do that.
Well, as time passed by I got more acquainted with the neighbors and all. I went with them to a dance out to Albion, that was fifty miles away, and there was always a big crowd. One night when we went out there, she introduced me to her cousin. I danced a square dance with him, and eventually we got married. We were so poor we had a hard time getting married. The boss lady didn`t want to lose me because I was a good worker. And then one day, Ralph and I decided to sneak off and get married. I brought Aunt Annie to be the maid of honor. So I got the day off. About 50 miles out, the transmission went out of the car. There we sat, hot, dry, and no water . . . we never thought of taking anything to drink. So we sat there in the car until a truck came by. The driver turned around and hooked on to us, and Annie rode with him back. About half way back to Indian Creek, the chain broke, but he kept going on. When they got to the highway they looked back and we were sitting half-way back there, and this was supposed to be our wedding day!
So he came back and hooked on to us and brought us to Belle Fourche. Well, Ralph, was determined that we were going to get married, but here we were without a car. So we walked up to the courthouse to get our license and Clara Miller was there at the time and she asked, ``In those clothes?`` We got our license and went back to Annie Clem`s house. I knew the preacher, so I walked over and asked the preacher if he would come over at five o`clock and marry us. We got married there on September 22, 1934. Annie`s family was there and her daughter played ``The End of a Perfect Day``.
We had four children, one boy and three girls, two of which are twins. I was as poor as a church mouse, but they all grew up. It was terrible taking care of twins. We only had cloth diapers that had to be washed, and that kept me busy because all four of them were in diapers at about the same time. We lived down on a farm. I had a highchair for each one and we had an old fashioned range. Well, I never was thinking of the high-chairs setting there. I had a cup of kerosene sitting there in a can to start the fires. Well, Loraine, one of the twins, reached over and grabbed the cup of kerosene and drank it. I was petrified, she was just a little baby, nine months old. You could see on her face she knew right away she wasn`t supposed to have done that. So I opened an egg and made her swallow an egg, and then I made her drink milk, and I thought she would vomit. I then took her to the doctor, and the poor kid, she just kept belching that kerosene taste in her mouth. The doctor said just take care of her like normal, and it will pass away.