Saturday, January 18, 2020

Honey Anise Cookies * Christmas 2019







HONEY COOKIES   Christmas 2019

 I haven’t made Honey Anise Cookies for a few years. I dug out the old family recipe favorite and for a few hours channeled my mother, Helen, and my Aunt Aldina. It is Aunt Aldina’s recipe. She said her mother used to make them. So, I guess I was also channeling my grandmother Katharina Meidinger Just, who died in 1925 as a 37-year-old mother. It’s hard to know things about a grandparent who died long before I was born except through stories, photos, and, in this case, a recipe.
I had forgotten how many cookies this recipe makes when you roll them out. This time it was 10 dozen. I remembered that other years, when I didn’t have time to roll the dough, I rolled a spoonful into a ball and pressed the ball down with a drinking glass. Even then, the recipe was large.
Making the entire adventure sweeter was the fact that I was using fresh honey from hives on the farm I grew up on north of Berlin, ND.
As I mixed, cooled, rolled, baked, frosted and sprinkled this batch I wondered how my grandmother, a mother of nine, had any time to make cookies. Her oldest daughter, Aldina, was her right hand, and was only 16-years-old when her mother died, leaving Aldina to take over for her mother.
Like all prairie farm women, Katharina and Aldina did their share of farm chores, raised a huge garden and canned a cellar full of summer’s bounty. Chickens were their domain supplying the family with eggs and meat. There was sewing, mending, cleaning, laundry, cooking, baking and endless childcare.
Not all was work…. Katharina played the pump organ that sat in the living room. When guests came, they would circle the organ and sing - in German - hymns and folk tunes from their home in Russia. Some dating back to their ancestral villages in Germany. I know this because I was a family history sleuth in the 1970’s and interviewed anyone I could find who knew Katharina Meidinger Just. Learning about her vocal and musical side was a gift. My sister and I, as well as our children loved studying piano and voice.
As I was channeling those influential women in my heritage I began to wonder if this Honey Anise Cookie recipe was unique to my family OR another example of the foodways of my ethnic group – the Germans from Russia.
I consulted every cookbook I own. I have town centennial cookbooks, church cookbooks, regional cookbooks, ethnic cookbooks, even one in German that I had to consult the translation app on my phone to read. The result is that I found variations of my family recipe in a dozen of the cookbooks in my library.  All the recipes called for honey, lard, eggs, flour, and soda or baking powder in varying amounts. All called for Anise flavoring. I use Pure Anise Extract from the grocery store. The oldest of the cookbooks called for Star Anise. What on earth is Star Anise, I asked myself.
I consulted Sam Brungardt, the editor of Sei Unser Gast, published by the Minnesota North Star Chapter – Germans from Russia. The world of the internet gave us these results:
Illicium verum is a medium-sized evergreen tree native to northeast Vietnam and southwest China. A spice commonly called star anise, staranise, star anise seed, Chinese star anise, or badian that closely resembles anise in flavor is obtained from the star-shaped pericarps of the fruit of I. verum which are harvested just before ripening. Star anise oil is a highly fragrant oil used in cooking, perfumery, soaps, toothpastes, mouthwashes, and skin creams. About 90% of the world's star anise crop is used for extraction of shikimic acid, a chemical intermediate used in the synthesis of oseltamivir (Tamiflu).
Sam wondered if it was possibly much easier and cheaper to obtain Star Anise in South Russia because of the trade routes coming from the east through Asia. No argument there.
So – does that mean Honey Anise Cookies were made in the German villages in South Russia and came to Dakota Territory with my emigrant ancestors?
I consulted Louise Wiens, Leamington, Canada. Louise writes the “At the Familientisch with Louise” essays for the quarterly Heritage Review published by the Germans from Russia Heritage Society (GRHS). Louise’s parents were born in Leipzig, Bessarabia and Schonau on the Dnieper in what is now Ukraine. They were deported to Kazakhstan in 1945 and were able to emigrate to West Germany in 1955 ultimately arriving in Canada some years later. Leamington (north of Detroit, Michigan) has both Black Sea, Bessarabian and Mennonite (also a Germans from Russia group) communities well established there.
Louise consulted a Mennonite cookbook she received decades ago and found a recipe for Anise Drop cookies. The next day Louise visited her Aunt Hulda, born in Leipzig, Bessarabia, who told Louise that many families in her community kept bees and baked with honey all year round.  
Questions remain for me. Answers are still out there. Since I started this inquiry I have learned that something called Anise Oil is available via the internet. Still, the opportunity to feel a connection with those who came before - while I bake a recipe that has survived five generations in America is priceless!

Photos: 1. Young Katharina Meidinger Just, 2.Aldina with three younger sibling Circa 1915, 3.Aldina late 1920's, 4. Helen Dockter Just's Honey Anise Cookie recipe handed down from Aldina Just, 5.cookbooks from my collection that contained Honey Anise Cookie recipes. 6. Jack Halverson (Katharina's 2nd great grandson) frosting Honey Anise Cookies. December 2019.

Saturday, November 26, 2016


Found! My 40-year search for my Great-great grandmother

In 1974 I began my journey of discovery as I tried to create a family tree. Don’t let anyone tell you it is an easy path. I was twenty four years old and oh-so-earnest in my quest to track my family history. I soon discovered that there is no direct route. There will be dead ends and occasional road construction on the way.

My goal? To go from myself backwards to as many grandparents, great, great-great, great-great-great grandparents and beyond as possible. It has been such an interesting ride. I identified many of them within the first few years and soon had their history, migration, homestead, church, birth, marriage and death dates and cemetery information.

The great-grandparents were easy. There were enough older relatives to interview who could give me the needed information along with great stories that blew life into the names and dates.  They opened their photo albums so I could add images to my stories. Photos and stories allow you to really get to know your subject and appreciate their journey.

In the great-great grandparent category, the path has required more complex research. Libraries, archives, ship records, census records, citizenship, homestead, and church records all open doors and make for a different kind of experience.

Long ago oral interviews with great aunts and uncles made it clear that I descend from really interesting people. As I go back over those notes from 40 years ago I can still smell the fresh bread cooling on the cupboard. The savory dill and beet pickles they served with fresh bread, slices of thick ham and home churned butter – sometimes washed down with homemade wine or schnapps. Occasionally they would go out to the vine garden they called the Bashtan and pick a ripe melon or go down to the cool cellar and bring up a melon that they would cut into thick slices to go with the rest of the meal. Breaking bread seemed to be the best way for them to get to know me and decide if I was someone they wanted to share their story with. Most said that had nothing interesting to tell me, but with each sip of coffee and each bite of Fruit and custard kuchen they began to talk. It was slices of heaven to listen to them speak in their accented adopted language with many German words sprinkled in. Some words and phrases simply cannot be translated.

One great-great- grandmother has eluded me since her grandson, Julius Dockter, told me about her in a lengthy interview in the early days of my research. Christina Seeger Heine was born in South Russia in 1830. She married Johann Heine in 1851, had 9 live births, with only 5 surviving before she arrived at the Port of New York with her husband, Johann, and five daughters on the SS Lessing on November 15, 1873. We know that from there, they took a train to Yankton, Dakota Territory, where they lived until arriving in McIntosh County, Dakota Territory, in 1885, when Johann, at age 56, filed for a homestead claim. I have one grainy photo of Christina Seeger Heine standing in what looks like her sod house with a couple of vases of prairie grasses on the table next to her.

The fact that she raised four daughters (I’m still on the hunt for the 5th daughter) who were strong and determined makes her all the more interesting to me. I’m related to her through my great-grandmother Katharina Heine Dockter, my mother’s paternal grandmother. Katharina was one of 23 women (out of 384 applicants) who filed homestead claims in McIntosh County, Dakota Territory in 1886. Katharina’s claim along Beaver Creek became the anchor site for that family and for generations of descendants who shared vivid memories of time spent on that farm. Her Timber Culture claim along the creek provided picnic space for the greater community long before state, county and city parks were created as public spaces.

Christina appears with her husband, Johann, in the 1900 census as living on his homestead claim just south of her daughter Katharina’s acreage.  Johann Heine died in April of that year leaving her a widow. A Declaration of Intent document following his death indicates that she decided to become a citizen – perhaps to be able to inherit and sell her husband’s homestead. A later document reveals that she sold that homestead to my great grandparents for $1000. Her grandson, Julius Dockter, was only three when she died, but he knew that following Johann’s death Christina went to live with her daughter, Karoline Heine Olson Heer, who resided some 50 miles west in Lamoure County near the small town of Kulm in ND.

When I began my search for her in 1974, no one seemed to know what happened to Christina Seeger Heine once she moved to her daughter’s home or when she died or where she was buried. Sometime in the 1980’s I stopped at the Lamoure County Court House, and after a search through the Clerk of Court records I found a record of her death in 1909 at the age of 79.

Since Christina Seeger Heine is not buried in St Andrew’s Cemetery in rural McIntosh County where her husband lies, I assumed she might be buried near her daughter Karoline Heine Olson Heer in the Kulm Congregational Cemetery. Another thing you should know is that assumptions and logic do not apply in genealogy research. I have walked through that cemetery more times than I can count and I never found a marker for her.

Fast forward to 2015. A historical society colleague and retired friend, Ray Reinhardt, offered to work on some of my mystery cases (all genealogists have them). I gave him what information I had about Christina Seeger Heine and he got to work. It is because of my good fortune to have such a kind friend with dogged diligence that the mystery has been solved. Poring over microfilm of the local newspaper, the Kulm Messenger, Ray noticed a note of condolence to the Heer family upon the passing of Karoline Heer’s mother, Christina Heine. The notice said the funeral was at St Paul’s Lutheran church.

Aha! My silly assumption that she attended her daughter’s church kept me from finding her for decades. After I finished beating myself up about it, I began to look for a cemetery attached to that church. I learned that St Paul’s had long ago closed its doors, but somewhere there had to be a cemetery.

I had hunted through the NorthDakotaGravestones.org website for churches and cemeteries in Lamoure County which has quite a presence on that website because of the efforts of Allen and Mary Lu Konrad. Their diligent recording of several cemeteries in Dickey, Lamoure, Logan and McIntosh counties is a gift to the families and to researchers. Together they have trekked from cemetery to cemetery to take photographs and upload them to the website with information about each grave.  The website is a volunteer endeavor which is why not every cemetery in every county is included. I checked for St Paul’s Cemetery in Lamoure County, since the church’s address was Kulm and Kulm is in Lamoure County. No luck! Flummoxed again!

Then, late one night when I couldn’t sleep I looked at the state map again and realized that Kulm, in Lamoure County, is a stone’s throw (maybe one mile) north of the Dickey County line. I booted up my laptop and pulled up the NorthDakotaGravesite.org website entering a request for Dickey County. I entered St Paul’s Lutheran Cemetery and it popped up! Then I typed in Christine Heine and with the click of my mouse there she appeared listing the section, township and range in Northwest Township .  Eureka!! I found her! At 2 a.m. I had no one to share this so-long-in-coming discovery, but I thanked the Universe for friends like Ray Reinhardt and Allen and Mary Lu Konrad.

Now to schedule a visit to the gravesite! An Arizona cousin, Marge Dockter Hestermann, and my brother and sister in law, Walt and Pat Just signed on to join me. On July 19, 2016, we met in Wishek, North Dakota, and picked up our Aunt Laverna Dockter Kaseman. Having no idea what shape the cemetery might be in, we borrowed tools (shovel, hedge trimmer, battery operated grass trimmer and gloves) and headed east to Kulm.

Let me tell you, it is not easy getting a township map. The woman at the Register of Deeds office at the Dickey County seat in Ellendale, ND, said she could not scan and email the map to me but I could stop by and pick one up.  Unfortunately, it was many miles out of the way. My brother, Walt, managed to get a township map sent to me by text, but it didn’t show any roads leading to the cemetery. Fortunately, Allen Konrad had an email address attached to his St Paul Lutheran postings to NorthDakotaGravesites.org. An email to him requesting directions to the cemetery resulted in this reply:  

If you approach Kulm from the north, on Highway 56, continue to the south edge of town and keep on driving south for one mile. At that point the highway will make a left bend to correct for entering Dickey County. Do not drive the bend, but turn left and drive the section line road one and a half miles. You will approach some trees on the north side of the road. If you go any farther, you will meet up with a slough that has covered the once existing road. At the trees, turn right and drive up the hill. Once on top, the cemetery is to the left.

Without those directions, I might still be driving section line roads.

I can’t really explain how I felt. Imagine – hunting for a grave for 40 years – knowing she had to be somewhere but not able to find her. As we headed to the cemetery that morning I could hardly talk. I realize it is sort-of a “nerdy” endeavor, but genealogists get it. I don’t know many people who can say they have been hunting for something for all those years and when it fell into my lap, I found myself at a loss for words.

Aunt Laverna had a bouquet of flowers from her garden ready as we made our way to the cemetery. Allen Konrad’s directions were completely accurate and thankfully the cemetery was mowed and trimmed. Still, we could find no marker to match the marker Allen Konrad had placed on the NorthDakotaFind-a-grave.org website all those years ago. We found the area where the earliest graves were located and decided to investigate an overgrown grove of lilac bushes. My brother ventured a few feet into the lilac bushes and, aha, there she was!! We clipped away at the overgrowth and sunlight flooded the beautiful stone that had been placed for her 107 years ago.

The stone is wobbly and needs to be secured and next to it is a large hole, probably the home of a badger. The lilac bushes have likely protected the gravestone, and maybe other stones, for years.

“I found her! I found her!” was all I could say. The cemetery in its remote location likely gets few visitors. I wondered when the last visit to her 1909 grave may have been, but I was comforted to know that Christina Seeger Heine’s great granddaughter and three of her great-great grandchildren paid homage to her on that day.

Genealogy is part mystery, part exploration, part collaboration and part satisfaction. On that day I could say, all four parts aligned and I felt only happiness and great satisfaction.

Carol Just

This essay appeared in the December 2016 issue of Heritage Review, a publication of the Germans from Russia Heritage Society.

Sunday, December 6, 2015

Maggie's Journey

Maggie’s Story

For me everything shifts a little when someone I admire leaves this world.

Maggie Just Herr passed away quietly the morning of December 5, 2015, just a month shy of her 96th birthday.  Her son, Arlen, and little brother, George Just, were at her side.

I chronicled Maggie’s career in Eviger Saatz (Everlasting Yeast): The Food Culture of the Germans from Russia (2013) published by the Tri-County Tourism Alliance in North Dakota. In an era of few women owned businesses, her story is a remarkable tale of timing, hard work, some luck, but mostly a desire to be independent and provide for her family.  I think of her as a force of nature, a quiet feminist, who was short in stature but tall in ambition.

The following is excerpted from that story.

Maggie’s Café

An anchor in the community of Wishek, ND, for 58 years!

Maggie’s Café was a favorite eating place in Wishek, ND, for 58 years. In that time countless young people of the community got their first job at Maggie’s.  Many first dates and Prom Dinners took place at Maggie’s.  Bowling banquets, board meetings and planning committees used the upstairs room - always assured of good food and friendly service.  Maggie’s was open for business through Wishek’s Golden (1948) and Diamond (1973) Jubilee’s and the 1998 Centennial celebration.
“I enjoyed it all so much, I would do the next one if could,” Maggie said.

In 1943 Magdalina (Maggie) Just was a young mother seeking a way to support herself and her young son in their community of Wishek, ND.

23-yr-old Maggie had spent several years in the employ of the local banker, John Doyle and his wife Katherine, serving as housekeeper, cook and childcare provider. The Doyle’s liked Maggie.  She came to them with a strong work ethic and a good nature. They entrusted her with their home and family – even taking her on vacation with them. During her years with the Doyle family Maggie learned household management and cooking from Mrs. Doyle that would become the foundation for her years as a business woman in the Wishek Community.

Maggie had a “gift” with pie crust and cake baking. Her cookies were unparalleled. Mrs. Doyle had a vision for Maggie long before Maggie envisioned her own business future. With encouragement from Mr. and Mrs. Doyle, Maggie opened a pastry shop in the Sheraton Hotel at 24 Centennial St. North in downtown Wishek.  The day Maggie opened her pastry shop she had a total of $3 to her name to use for the cash drawer.  Before long, Maggie had a loyal following and seized upon the opportunity to move across the street and open a restaurant.  When asked how she knew she could succeed she replied, “Mrs. Doyle said I could do it!” With backing from John Doyle at Security State Bank, Maggie borrowed the capital needed to get started.

Long hours and childcare help from her family meant that Maggie could work 18 hrs a day serving breakfast, lunch, supper and a late evening crowd, often not closing up shop until midnight.  Maggie could not afford to add a soda fountain to meet the increasing demand for ice cream and soda until Doyle walked down the street to Herr Mercantile, and bought one for the café.  Maggie was allowed to make monthly payments on her new addition.

 “There were many angels helping along the way. In the early years, I remember a week when the Pepsi Cola driver came with a delivery and I didn’t have the cash on hand to pay him. In an era when credit was unheard of, he smiled and said ‘You can pay me next week.’”

After 41 years at the helm, ownership shifted to her sister Lorraine in 1984 and Maggie was able to go back to her favorite thing - cooking and baking with an occasional day off.  Best estimates are that in Maggie’s years in the kitchen she averaged at least 1500 pies per year.

When asked if she had any advice for future entrepreneurs, Maggie said,” Don’t waste anything and don’t spend everything you make.”  Smiling, Maggie added, “I tried always to do that and I never went broke!”  
                                *******************************************************

Maggie never knew her biological mother, Magdalina Haas Just, who died at age 25 when Maggie was born. In her first year Maggie was cared for by her father, August, and his parents until August married Albina Ketterling who, Maggie said, “knew no bias and loved me as her own.” Maggie never forgot the young mother who died when she was born and whose grave never had a marker. One of Maggie’s final acts was to place a beautiful granite marker at her biological mother’s grave at St Andrews Cemetery, rural Zeeland, ND.

Now Maggie has been reunited with both mothers and I’m pretty sure they are all baking together.


Monday, December 15, 2014

Horses and Harness Repair on the Dakota Prairie

Horses and Harness Repair on the Dakota Prairie

In the summer of 1998, my dad, Julius A Just, born, May 3, 1914, presented to me a homemade wooden harness maker/repair stand, along with a metal box of tools.

He said, “My brothers, Reinhold and Ephraim, left McIntosh County for Berlin, in LaMoure County, before I did so when I moved my family to Berlin in April 1944, I took this piece with me.  I rebuilt the bench part of it recently. This harness maker/repair stand belonged to my father, Karl Just.” Dad shared that this item may even have belonged to Karl’s father, Christof Just , who with his wife, Elizabeth Wanner and their infant son,  Karl, left Kassel, in South Russia (now Ukraine) in October 1884. Baby Karl died en route and was buried at sea.  Christof and Elizabeth arrived at Yankton, Bon Homme County, Dakota Territory a few weeks later and spent the winter with family and friends who left Kassel for Dakota Territory some years earlier.  Another child, also named Karl, (Dad’s father) was born there on January 1, 1885. The following spring of 1885, Christof Just filed a homestead claim in McIntosh County in what is now North Dakota.   

Dad said, “In the wintertime for at least a month in the afternoons we boys would start a fire in the Summer Kitchen and repair harness. The thread was made from cotton. We tarred it and put it through a needle. We used two needles that we wove both ways.  We used a pointed awl to punch the holes and put the needles through them each way. Then we would pull it tight and punch another hole. After our father died in 1923, our mother, Katharina Meidinger Just, needed to scale our farming operation down so she had an auction sale.  With money from that sale she bought a new harness for the team of horses she used for her buggy.” Even though the family owned an automobile, Katharina preferred to use the team of horses.

Following Karl’s death, Katharina married her brother-in-law, Christof Thurn. She died in November, 1925, after giving birth to her 10th child, a son named Edwin.  

Karl and Katharina and all their children are now enjoying one another in heaven. All we have left are items like this homemade harness maker/repair stand and the stories that come with them.
Karl’s great-grandson, Dan Feist, is a collector of items that celebrate and remember farms and farm work. He has agreed to add this item and the story that goes with it to his collection. Dan’s son Michael Feist, said he will take care of it when the time comes and will share the family story. I think Julius would be pleased that it will be placed into good hands.

May many generations of descendants of Karl Just look at this family treasure and imagine a cold winter afternoon sitting  with their brothers around the fire in the summer kitchen doing important work like making or repairing harness.


Carol Just – December 2014


Saturday, June 14, 2014

I've done all that I need to do here...





“I’ve done all that I need to do here”

Celebrating Julius Andreas Just on Father’s Day, 2014

On May 3, 1914, just a few months before shots rang out in Austria triggering the “war to end all wars,” commonly  known as World War I, a boy, the 5th child, 4th son was born to Karl and Katharina (Meidinger) Just in a little house on Karl Just’s rocky homestead in McIntosh County, North Dakota.
Named Julius Andreas, he would soon be followed by four more sisters.  Large families were common in that era and Karl and Katharina considered each child a gift.

Ephraim on Karl's lap, Adam, Aldina, Reinhold and Julius on Katharina's lap 1914

An opportunity to move to a larger farm a few miles closer to the grain elevators and train station at Zeeland, North Dakota, came in March 1920. The idea of avoiding rolling hills when hauling grain to market with a team of horses had great appeal to Karl and Katharina.

House on new Just Farm  1920

Julius was just about six-years-old and remembered the move well. His father, Karl, drove their Overland Touring Car while the older boys, eleven-year-old Adam and nine-year-old Reinhold walked the five miles to the new farm, herding the cattle to their new home. Seven-year-old Ephraim was in charge of the cat and the little girls - four-year-old Eva and three-year-old Katharina.  Almost twelve-year-old Aldina was in charge of two month old Elizabeth. Julius didn’t remember what his job was. Neighbors helped with the move and neighbor ladies had the big house warm and food ready when they arrived at their new farm.

 According to Julius, everyone lived and worked in harmony and they were a happy family.  He remembered his mother had a beautiful voice. She sang and played the organ and when neighbors and family visited, group singing was common.  Katharina had earned a teaching certificate and taught school before she married Karl Just. Religious and secular education for her children was important to her. Julius remembered a contented household where friends and family often visited. Karl and Katharina always took their turn hosting the local teacher. Julius remembered how much his mother enjoyed the company of another adult woman.

The new farm was a financial struggle. The house and the farm buildings were not in the condition they expected. A new furnace and building improvements began immediately. The two bottom plow and ten foot drill and other machinery they brought to the new farm were not sufficient to handle more acreage. Julius remembered that his father was a very kind and quiet person who was well respected in the community. One day little Julius was riding on the mower with his father at a section of rented hay land when they had to stop to change the sickle. In the process, Julius cut his finger. In an interview seventy-three years later, Julius could still remember how concerned his father was – how bad he felt - as he made a makeshift bandage to cover the wound.

The move meant a new school in Frieda Township. Julius remembered that they went to school in a sleigh pulled by horses. There was a barn at the school site to house the horses during school hours. A school year was seven months and regularly attended unless the student was needed to plant or harvest the crop. Many boys, including the Just boys missed school to take care of chores at home.

Julius 4th from right
The family continued to worship at their little Friedens Gemeinde (Peace Lutheran) Church even though they were now closer to St Andrew’s, the “mother” church organized in 1893 by Julius’s Meidinger and Just grandparents and where his parents, Karl and Katharina, were the first to be married in 1907, in the newly erected tall, white Carpenter Gothic style church that stands today as a “Beacon on the Prairie.”

Karl and Katharina on their wedding day, June 1907
Life moved on in harmony and happiness until the winter of 1922 – 23. Diptheria, a deadly respiratory infection was epidemic and four of the children were placed under the care of the local physician. Julius, Eva, Katharina and Elizabeth were terribly ill with the dreaded disease. Katharina’s niece, Katie, came to help the exhausted mother care for her sick children but Dr. Grace sent her home because he feared the newly married Katie could be pregnant and could become ill with the disease. The father, Karl, was also on bed rest, as he was many winters because of a weak heart and lungs resulting from an accident he had as a young man with a runaway wagon and team of horses.

 It was a cold, hard winter and the big house was drafty. They were almost out of coal. Karl got up from his sickbed, got dressed and announced he was going the sixteen miles to Zeeland to get a load of coal. Katharina protested saying that she was certain his younger brother, Jacob, could do it. But Karl would not hear of it and set off for town.

Underestimating his weak condition, Karl collapsed and was brought home by neighbors. Dr Grace examined him and announced to Katharina that Karl’s heart was weak and he likely would not survive. Overwrought, Katharina implored Karl to get well saying, “I cannot run this farm by myself. I cannot raise these children by myself!” Karl opened his eyes, took her hand, and said, “I’ll take some with me.”

Karl died on February 12, 1923. He had just turned thirty-eight-years-old.  Eva died on February 14, Katharina and Elizabeth died on the 19th and 20th. Karl took three of the children with him. Julius remembered waking up one morning, seeing sunshine and getting up from his sick bed at some point in the middle of all the illness and death. He walked into the parlor where people were assembled near two of his sisters laid out in caskets. While he was deliriously ill, he had lost a parent and three siblings. It didn’t stop there. The same epidemic claimed Julius’s Aunt Christina Just Thurn and her sons, Edwin, Julius and Jacob in those same days.

Karl Just cemetery marker.
Children each have granite markers  with their initials
at the foot of the grave.
The winter weather was unrelenting. Karl and Eva were buried at tiny Friedens Cemetery in one coffin. When Katharina and Elizabeth died a few days later, the grave diggers exhumed the coffin holding Karl and Eva and dug into the earth horizontally below the frost line to create a grave for the other two girls who were buried together in one wooden coffin. 

The sad family continued on. Julius remembered that sometimes he and his brother, Ephraim, would lie together under a feather comforter while their mother sang the lullaby, “Müde bin ich, geh zur ruh” Translated it means: “Weary am I, to Rest I Must Go”. Years later Julius would sing that same lullaby to his grandchildren. Still later, Julius’s granddaughter, Katharina, sang it in his honor at his funeral.
One night young Julius couldn’t sleep and walking into the kitchen of the big house, discovered his mother filling Easter Baskets for the children. Even in her sorrow, Katharina tried to keep life normal for her remaining children.

Taking care of the six surviving children and a farm with considerable acreage was a daunting undertaking. Katharina was able to lease some of the land to neighbors. Reinhold and Adam did most of the remaining farm work and the neighbors helped plant and harvest the rest of the acreage. Katharina’s father and father-in-law hired farm hands to help out. 
  
In November, 1925, Katharina Meidinger Just, since remarried, died while giving birth to her tenth child. She joined Karl, Eve, Katharina and Elizabeth in tiny Friedens Lutheran Cemetery, leaving her sixteen-year-old daughter, Aldina, to care for the remaining children. The infant son, Edwin, survived and was raised by his maternal uncle and aunt.

Everyone soldiered on. Julius, a good student, attended eight grades at Frieda School #2. In the eighth grade he achieved the highest math score in the county and was recommended by the McIntosh County Superintendent of Schools to attend high school. But Julius’s stepfather determined his fate and deemed that “Julius does not need a high school education to be a farmer,” – thereby refusing to fund the expense of room and board at the nearest high school. It is likely that, had she been alive, Katharina would have felt differently.

Ephraim, unknown friend, Julius and Adam
Julius with pets
Young Julius
Julius and his brothers worked for their stepfather on the family farm and on the stepfather’s acreage for the next many years until each emancipated at age twenty-one.  The happiness and harmony of their early years with Karl and Katharina never returned. Life with their stepfather was a struggle and unrewarding.  Their oldest sister, Aldina, took care of the garden, laundry, housekeeping and cooking while helping to raise the youngest sister, Marie, who was born just a year before her father and sisters died. 

Aldina and Marie 1931
Julius became Aldina’s right hand, carrying in the water, carrying out the slop and helping with the gardening and the milking as well as taking his turn with field work.  
Aldina Just 1940's
In later years, Aldina worked as a housemaid for their stepfather until he died in 1953. She never married and was the glue that held that sad family together for all those years. Their stepfather saw no need to provide land, livestock or machinery to help his stepsons get established and no dowry for his stepdaughters to get a start in life - as was the custom in our Germans from Russia culture.

Helen Dockter
In November, 1939, Julius married a local girl, Helen Dockter, and they embarked on a sixty-three-year marriage. They rented land in McIntosh County until April 1944 when they purchased a run-down farm just north of Berlin, in LaMoure County, North Dakota, some 80 miles to the east. Two of Julius’s brothers, Reinhold and Ephraim, and their wives were already established on farms nearby. Julius and Helen raised five children on that farm. Their two oldest sons, Donald and Myron, remember as small children planting rows of trees north and south, then east and west to shelter the house and out buildings. In February 1945, a large hip-roofed barn was moved onto the property. 

Julius and Helen Just Family 1950
Don, Walter, Julius (hanging on to Carol) Marcella, Helen and Myron
Over time, every shabby out-building was replaced and in 1949 the run down farm house was remodeled and modernized. Over time, more acreage was added to the farm operation.  Switching from cattle to raising sheep with sons, Myron and Walt, took up much of the 1960’s.

House on Just Farm 1/2 mile north of Berlin, ND  circa 1960's
Julius on tractor
Julius counting sheep
Walt and Julius surveying freshly sheared sheep
In 1969, twenty-five years after their move to Berlin, Julius and Helen retired to five acres of land at the edge of Berlin, ½ mile south of their farm. There they raised bumper vegetable and flower crops and hosted their children and grandchildren for every Christmas and a reunion round-up every summer. They enjoyed their retirement years, including travel across the US and Europe. 
Helen and Julius enjoying retirement in Berlin, ND
Helen and Julius Just Family at Just Farm  1982
Helen and Julius in front
Walt, Carol, Don Marcella and Myron in back 
Their son, Myron and his wife, Ruth, took charge of the farm for the next twenty-five years and at the helm today is their grandson, Christof Just and his wife, Kelli. Julius and Helen can be assured that Just Farm at Berlin, North Dakota is alive and in good hands.

Brothers Julius and Reinhold enjoying a beer during harvest circa 1970's

Julius Just was my dad. He lived to be 88 ½, outliving his mother and father by seventy-seven and seventy-nine years. Almost every Memorial Day in my memory, Dad and my mother, Helen, would make the pilgrimage back to Friedens Cemetery in McIntosh County, lovingly attending the graves where his parents, three sisters and one brother are buried.

Myron with Julius, Fall 2002 during
Julius's last visit to his beloved Just Farm at Berlin
Not long before he died Dad told me, “I’ve done all that I need to do here. When it is my time, I’ll be ready. I miss my parents, sisters and brothers and I look forward to a reunion with them.” The image of him in reunion with the ones who were taken from him when he was so young sustained me in the years after he died. I still miss him but he is happy because he has even more company now. Mother has joined him along with Uncle Reinhold and Aunt Lydia. I’m pretty sure they are playing some fantastic rounds of Pinochle or Whist and talking politics from on high
.
Happy Father’s Day in your centennial year Dad! 

Carol Just, June 2014


Much of the information for this story came from interviews I conducted with my dad, Julius, and his brother, Reinhold, the two remaining children of Karl and Katharina (Meidinger) Just, in September, 1996. They were the men I admired the most in my life and I will always be grateful to them for sharing their stories with me.  The deathbed scene between Karl and Katharina was shared with me by Rosina Wiest (Just) Schauer in an interview at her home in Ashley, North Dakota, November, 1974. Rosina and her first husband, Andrew Just, witnessed the exchange between Karl and Katharina while they were sitting vigil at the bedside of Karl Just in February, 1923. 

A big Thank You to Myron Just for generously sharing 50 years of family photographs for this essay.