Growing up on a farm was challenging at times, but it was an incredible blessing. It was a wonderful way to grow up. It was hard work, yet immensely satisfying. It was complicated, yet somehow a simpler way of life.
My dad’s father, Carl Erickson, immigrated to the United States at the age of 19 from Flyman in the province of Blekinge (southern) Sweden in 1906. The only words he could speak in English were “bacon and eggs!"
Carl started his journey by traveling by boat to Copenhagen, Denmark and sailed to England. He traveled by boat to Ellis Island in New York, as he had two uncles who lived in that area. He had $10 in his pocket and a banana (which he had never seen before) as he boarded the train that would take him from New York to Hillsboro, ND. When he arrived in North Dakota, Carl was informed his aunt and cousins had tuberculosis and he could not stay there, so he traveled to Minneapolis, where he worked for the Milwaukee Railroad and attended night school to learn English. He later worked at a creamery and as a conductor for the Minneapolis-St. Paul Streetcar Company.
Carl settled in Sherburne County in 1917 and bought the farm for $3,000. He married Lillie Ellefson in 1919 and they were blessed with three sons: Ernest (my dad) in 1922, Herbert in 1924 and Wally in 1931. My uncle Wally told me earlier this week: “As with many other people during the depression, Carl lost the farm but was able to buy it back in 1938 for $800.”
Carl attended church at Kragero School, which served as both a one-room school and a church. Carl’s wife (Lillie Ellefson’s) family from Kragero, Norway, donated the land and founded the school/church in 1897.
Carl’s father-in-law, Jens Ellefson and his brother Ole preached at Kragero. Carl was in charge of coordinating traveling pastors to preach at Kragero for severeal years. He was also a member of the Kragero School Board for 25+ years starting in 1938. My mother filled his vacant school board seat when Carl stepped down.
Carl was always interested in politics and helped found and serve as the secretary of the Democratic Farm Labor party in Sherburne County along with close friend Carl Tingquist, who also immigrated from Smaland, Sweden. The two Carl’s from Sweden enjoyed speaking in their native Swedish and cut each other’s hair and often enjoyed visiting over coffee once they settled north of Becker. The Erickson and Tingquist families have always enjoyed a special bond since the two Carl’s formed a friendship all those years ago.
My grandpa Carl worked on the Salida Road (Co. Rd 11) to get it extended farther north through Becker and Santiago townships. My uncle Wally recently told me: “I remember going to many meetings at Carl Hamacher’s and Oscar Gustafson’s with my pa as a small child about extending the Salida Road. The project was important to my dad.”
Grandpa Carl milked cows and raised crops on the farm, along with his sons Ernest, Herb and Wally. My father Ernest Erickson, milked cows and farmed one mile south of Grandpa Carl’s farm starting in 1949. Herb farmed alongside Carl and my dad started his own dairy farm 1 mile south. Herb took over Grandpa Carl’s farm after his death in January of 1965.
Herb continued to farm until the late 1970’s. Roger and his wife Sandy Erickson took over the farming operation in 1979. Roger and Sandy raised three children: David, Kristi and Melissa. They have continued to milk cows and raise crops and now have nine grandchildren who enjoy helping on the farm. They were recently honored with a Century Farm Award.
My Grandpa Carl, uncle Herb and my dad would all be so proud to know the farm is still in operation 100 years after it started. Attending the award ceremeony was very special. I am so grateful Roger and Sandy have continued to farm.
My dad’s only living brother, Wally Erickson, was able to attend the award ceremony. My brother Russell and my son Alex continue to milk cows and raise crops one mile south of Roger and Sandy’s century farm.
My sister Judy shared a story about when she was a small girl and accidentally broke something and she admitted it to mom. Grandpa Carl was visiting and drinking coffee and he was so impressed with Judy that he gave her a quarter and told her: “It pays to be honest, like Abe Lincoln”. Judy told me: “It made a big impact on me that grandpa wanted to reinforce the value of being honest.”
There is no disputing that farm life is hard work, but it’s rewarding. Small family farms are not nearly as prevalent as they were even 25 years ago. Dairy farmers are committed to their profession seven days a week. They brave the elements year-round, including the brutal Minnesota winters. On the flip side, they are blessed to enjoy the dewy sweet spring, summer and fall days our state offers. There is research indicating that working outside and with the soil is healthy - physically and emotionally and may double as an antidepressant.
Operating a family farm is not just a career - it also means carrying on the legacy of our ancestors. My grandpa Carl would be pleased to know his family is still working the soil on the farm he purchased 100 years ago after boarding a boat as a brave young man and leaving his home in southern Sweden to make a new life for himself. I am grateful Roger and Sandy continue to farm and keep his dream alive.
