Janette Oke (2 page)

One morning as Kathryn brushed past the other woman who was holding a weakened Evelyn, the chubby arms reached out for her and the tiny eyes searched for her attention. Though Kathryn longed to take the little girl into her arms, she knew she could not take precious time away from her other nursing duties.

It was the last time she saw little Evelyn alive. In the next few moments, the small body succumbed to the illness, and she was gone.

Kathryn struggled with the guilt of that last glimpse and pain of losing her precious little girl. The child was laid in a grave near their wonderful home, but much of the joy it held seemed to have left with tiny Evelyn. Daily routines were empty, laughter less easily achieved, though one by one each of the other children returned to health.

Bob, too, was having great difficulty dealing with the death of Evelyn. Reminders of her were everywhere—the places she had played and the times she had watched him work, filling his ears with her happy chatter. It was as if he were haunted by the joys she had brought to their home.

The following winter, Janette's grandfather Bob escaped those painful reminders by accepting an opportunity to manage a large ranch in Clear Lake, Alberta, which had an absentee owner.

Soon Kathryn received word that Bob wanted the family to follow. The work of packing their household possessions followed, and at last it was time for the final trip down the worn lane, away from the lovely home they'd enjoyed for ten years.

How difficult it must have been for Kathryn as she stood for the last time at little Evelyn's grave to bid her farewell. But she was forced to turn away and join the family she now must see safely to Alberta—hundreds and hundreds of miles away.

Kathryn had many difficult days adapting to her new life. She had left behind her friends, her beautiful home, a lifestyle she loved, and the grave of her fifth child—in exchange for open prairie, isolation, and the hard work of a pioneer woman.

But Kathryn was a determined woman and kept the standards for her family high. She insisted on raising them in cultured style, as a lady and gentlemen, despite the rugged prairie life they endured. Etiquette, education, and many dreams went into the rearing of them. Her greatest hope was that her sons would become fine men, perhaps doctors or lawyers. And to this hope she clung.

Four years of living and farming on the prairie passed slowly, with frequent moves from one ranch to another. As a hired worker, Bob was unable to immediately replace the exceptional home the family had known. But in 1911, when their eldest child, Carl, was fourteen, Bob moved the family to a homestead at Yetwood, Alberta.

The move brought mixed emotions. For Bob it was a wonderful feeling to once again work his own land, but upon surveying the eight-by-fourteen-foot granary that was to be their home until the new house could be completed, Kathryn could not share his enthusiasm. Far removed from the comfortable life she had known, she shuddered at the work that lay ahead of her.

However, in rather short order, Bob had completed a second house. Here the family added two more children, Ralph and Walter. The large home became the Yetwood post office, and the Steeves traveled by team twice weekly into the town of Champion, fifty miles round trip, to pick up and deliver the Yetwood mail.

Bob also established himself with a small community store. But later, when the Depression hit, even the store was lost, and again Kathryn found herself teaching school in order to help support the family.

Days were long and busy for Kathryn. Supper would be needed on the table shortly after she had arrived home from her teaching position, and there were many other household chores that would need her attention. And Walter, her youngest child, was only three years old, far from independence from his mother.

The fact that Julia was quickly approaching womanhood and could carry a woman's share of the work at home was a great help. But on the heels of Julia's achievements in womanly skills, Kathryn knew marriage would soon follow. Then Julia would be leaving to begin a home of her own.

And Kathryn was correct. Julia was courted and won by a young man named Bernard Gray. Kathryn was pleased—but the empty kitchen that greeted her when she returned home haunted her. Her boys rushed in and out of the house, but there was no daughter with whom to share the burden of a woman's work and the pleasure of women's conversation.

When word came months later that Julia had fallen ill, the family was fearful. The flu epidemic of that year had been quite severe, and Julia, especially, was in danger. The life of the child she carried was threatened by a premature birth, and Julia's body had already weakened from her illness.

After fighting many hours, the tiny infant arrived, and died shortly afterward. Dark days followed when Julia also succumbed to the disease. The grief of her young widower punctuated the family's own heartache, and there were few dry eyes at the funeral service. Family members and neighbors alike felt the pain of such bitter loss and wept for the young wife and mother who lay in the coffin, cradling her tiny infant in her arms.

Fred Steeves, who would be Janette's father, was then a young man of nineteen. His broad shoulders sagged as he turned from the crowd of mourners, tears streaming over his cheeks.

A neighbor girl, Amy Ruggles, wished with all her heart she could say something that could bring him comfort. Fred was a good friend to her, and it was so difficult to see him in such pain.

At the time she had no way of knowing that this man would someday be her husband, and that in the many years of their married life, this was one of the few times she would see him cry.

All in all, life on the prairie had been difficult for Bob and Kathryn Steeves' family. Even with his many skills, Bob experienced much bad fortune. Kathryn continued to struggle against the crude lifestyle of the prairie, but she was still determined to do her best for her sons.

Carl, her eldest, chose a life of farming alone on the prairies. By the time Janette was old enough to remember her uncle, he was almost a recluse. Brilliant and creative in technical things, he was also withdrawn and odd, and children who did not know him well were afraid of him. Carl remained a bachelor, though there was at least one sweetheart. A teacher had come to the area from the East but she returned home, so it was assumed she hadn't shared his feelings.

Horace, next in line, eventually became a druggist in a small town in northern Alberta. Over the years his visits with other family members were few and far between. When he did arrive, the country cousins were in awe of him and his family. The shiny automobile that pulled into their farmyard carrying unfamiliar people in fine clothes was somewhat intimidating to the shoeless children who welcomed them.

Janette's father, Fred, was the third son. His younger children knew him as a farmer, fisherman, and hunter, but earlier in his life baseball had been his great interest. And he was good at playing, once even pitching a no-hit, no-run game. His wife, Amy, who attended this game, said, “The only chance for the rest of his teammates to play was when they got up to bat.”

Fred himself told an amusing story of a game where in one inning he struck out the first four batters at the plate—and, amazingly, the opposing team still scored. Apparently the catcher simply could not hold on to the ball and each of the batters had run to base on the last strike when the ball had rolled out of the catcher's glove.

A friend of his has said, “I loved to watch Fred play ball. When he got up to bat, he'd look as if he wasn't going to do anything. Then he'd hit that ball and it'd go and go and go—and never touch the ground!”

Fred played on several teams in southern Alberta, often with his younger brother Jack, but his favorite team was the Enchant Nine. He was paid a small amount each game, which, in the early years of his marriage, was counted on by his family as their livelihood. Other teams did not treat him as well, at times even insisting that Amy pay to watch the game.

Many years later, when his daughter Sharon sat with an elderly Fred to choose old family photos for reprints, he picked the picture of the Enchant Nine out of the album and handed it to her. A quiet man, his words often were few, but she knew he was saying, “This shows what was important in my life. You need to include a copy of this.”

Jack, in the middle of the family line, became a successful farmer and businessman. For some years he sold International Harvester equipment and at the same time managed a farm east of town. Later he sold both and moved farther north to raise purebred Hereford cattle. He married Amy's sister, Laurine Ruggles, so their children and Janette's siblings referred to themselves as “double cousins,” becoming close friends and swapping offspring back and forth between the two homes for various reasons over the years. For Janette, it was like having two sets of parents and two batches of brothers and sisters.

Ralph was the next-to-last of Fred's brothers. He also remained a bachelor, though it did not seem to be for lack of interest. Apparently there simply had not been the right girl at the right time. Janette was sure this uncle would have made a wonderful husband and daddy. He was always patient and loving, spoiling her over the years and looking out for her whenever he could.

Walter was the baby of the family and still a young boy when Kathryn felt she could no longer endure the harsh life she was living. She took Ralph and Walter and moved into a small house in the town of Champion, twenty-five miles away, seemingly confident that Bob would follow. But this did not happen. Family and neighbors who knew them were grieved to see two fine but stubborn people hurt themselves and the family they loved by allowing years of growing resentments to drive them apart. It seemed apparent, though, that neither was willing to take the first step toward compromise.

Later, when Jack married, Ralph and Walter returned to the family home to live with him and his new bride, Laurine. This meant that, young as she was, she began married life with not just the care of a home and new husband, but also of Jack's father, two teen-aged brothers-in-law, and a hired hand.

After watching her youngest son return to farm life, Kathryn gave up hope that things between Bob and her would change, and she moved to the city of Calgary. The rift and separation was hard on all the family members—even those sons who had already married and were on their own, for they had deep love and respect for their mother and yet felt they could not side with either parent.

It was hardest, perhaps, on the younger ones. As soon as World War II broke out, young Walter enlisted in the Canadian Army and was sent out as a telegrapher with the Communications Corp. He spent most of the war years overseas, met and married an English girl, and brought her and their baby girl back to Canada with him after the war. He then used his G.I. Bill to go back to school.

After some difficult years, he realized his dream of becoming a druggist—only to be the first of Janette's uncles to die. Walter was fifty-four when he suffered a heart attack, leaving his wife and four grown children to cope with the sudden and unexpected loss.

It would be wonderful to be able to write that all Janette's family members were believers. Many of the Steeves clan are. Though little is known about the spiritual status of Kathryn, she left behind a well-marked Bible. Her husband, Bob, who used to delight in silly arguments concerning popular religious trivialities such as “How many angels can fit on the head of a pin?” did not make his peace with God until shortly before his death, this due to the urgings of his daughter-in-law Laurine.

Bob and Kathryn's sons grew up with some spiritual training, though morality and proper living were what had been thoroughly stressed. As the boys passed into manhood, they did not seem to feel that a personal commitment to God was important. And for some of the brothers, there followed many years uncommitted to the Lord who had touched the lives of their family all the way back to Heinrich Stief, and no doubt beyond.

Chapter Two

The Ruggles Family

The rugged shores of Massachusetts Bay were the first foothold in North America for Janette's mother, Amy Ruggles', ancestors. During a time in England when the Puritan movement was seeking church reform, two brothers by the name of Ruggles boarded ship with John Winthrop and began the long and difficult journey that brought them to the New World. Full of hope for religious freedom and a better life, they built crude shelters and settled into colonial life at Charlestown, Massachusetts, in 1630. Later they moved across the river to where the city of Boston was founded.

Because of its excellent location, Boston flourished and streams of Puritan immigrants followed after. Among these were Thomas Ruggles, a third brother, and his young family, who brought with them from England the Ruggles crest and coat of arms.

Here again, the pages of our family's history tell of a young boy and an ocean voyage. It must have been exciting for Thomas' eight-year-old son, Samuel Ruggles, to see the shores of a new land rise before him as if out of the ocean itself. And as the ship glided past the scattered islands, the bay that would soon be named Boston Harbor welcomed them in. Samuel anticipated seeing his new home and the family members who had gone on ahead several years before. The difficulties of the sea voyage soon melted into distant memory.

Thomas Ruggles' family made its home in Roxbury, Massachusetts, where his young son grew to be Captain Samuel Ruggles. As each generation married and fathered sons of its own, a line of soldiers, lawyers, and ministers began to form. Because of this, it has been suggested that the Ruggles seem to like being paid for talking or fighting. Even now, some joke that the saying still holds true, with the possible addendum of payment no longer being necessary.

Brigadier General Timothy Ruggles, one of the descendants of Captain Samuel Ruggles, served “with distinction” in the French and Indian War. After being elected to the First Colonial Congress as president, he began to differ with his colleagues on the role England should play in the Americas. Being a devout loyalist, he sided with England, eventually being forced to leave his estate, his possessions—and his wife, who refused to evacuate with him to Nova Scotia, Canada.

His brother, Honorable Edward Ruggles, remained in Massachusetts and, as seems to have happened painfully often in early American history, raised a son who fought on the side opposite his uncle. Sergeant Edward Ruggles served in George Washington's Continental Army. It is through this son that our branch of the family tree continues.

Two generations later, Edward's grandson, Liberty Ruggles, grew to adulthood in Illinois during the 1840s. It was a time when the excitement of the opening West pulsed through the veins of many young men. The California Gold Rush was drawing those who sought easy fortune, and the golden grasses of the fertile prairies made many a farmer east of the Mississippi yearn for the promising new land. Young Liberty had his eye on the territory of Minnesota.

On February 4, 1851, Liberty Ruggles married Catherine Ripley—a fifth-generation granddaughter of Governor William Bradford, who came to America on the
Mayflower
and played an important role in the first years at Plymouth. He was its second governor and was credited by some as having begun the tradition of observing Thanksgiving.

Seven years after the marriage of Liberty and Catherine, they made the decision to fulfill his long-held dream, leaving family behind and embarking on the journey to Minnesota. It was the same year that the territory became a state. Perhaps they were unaware that this act of Congress also divided the Sioux Reservation in half, causing the discontent of the tribes living in Minnesota to escalate at an alarming rate.

In the summer of 1862, after the payment of annuities to the Sioux in this area was delayed, a sudden surge of their anger exploded in a massacre in the Minnesota Valley. During this time more than 350 settlers lost their lives, and when U. S. General Sibley brought his troops against the bands, 269 more were discovered to be held captive and were freed.

Panic spread across the plains of Minnesota, even though word came that the Sioux were being pursued into the Dakotas and beyond the Missouri River. It was this panic that brought Liberty, Catherine, and their small family back to the shelter of the more largely populated area of Faribault, Minnesota.

Janette's great-grandfather Edward Ripley Ruggles, son of Liberty, was just six years old when his family moved back to the eastern side of the Mississippi. During his childhood he experienced the move from Illinois, witnessed the fear of extreme violence in an unsettled land, and was blinded in one eye by a rock from a slingshot.

Once grown, Edward pushed farther west to South Dakota where, at age twenty-five, he married seventeen-year-old Amy Passon, whose family had also come from Minnesota. Two years later they were living in Webster, South Dakota, a town so newly settled that his second son was the first white child to be born there.

Soon Edward and Amy were raising four sons and one daughter on the windswept plains. What hopes there may have been for a larger family were stilled when, at the early age of twenty-eight, Amy went through “the change” and her fifth child became her last.

Even with the growing family to keep her busy, Amy had a difficult time adjusting to the isolation of frontier life. This loneliness was never more evident than when she happened upon a familiar man from home. While she and Edward were walking down the town's dusty street, the older gentleman rounded a corner and was instantly recognized by Amy. Losing all sense of propriety in her complete shock and excitement, Amy rushed toward the man with such exuberance that Edward was embarrassed and disgusted.

The years were profitable for Edward. He began a rise into political life that he continued to pursue after the family returned to Minnesota in 1894. This was the year that his eldest son, Archie, who was nearing fifteen, ran away from home to find work farther west, being joined shortly after by his younger brother, Sid.

Edward opened a law office in the lakeside town of Osakis in 1898. The family prospered, and after just a few years of “trying their wings,” Archie and Sid returned to live with the family in their new home. Edward's stature in the community had grown and his sons enjoyed the hopeful looks from many of the local young ladies who exclaimed at attention from one of the “Honorable Ruggles'” sons.

A favorite community event of the time was a box social. Ladies from around the area brought decorated boxes filled with the best cooking and baking they could offer. Gentlemen then bid for the box of their choice and the money was used for a special cause.

Archie Ruggles stood with a friend, surveying the possibilities and watching as a young man chose the box of Violet Gray, a young teacher at a local school. Though he had known her for some time, Archie could not help but notice how particularly lovely she was on that evening and made up his mind to find time to talk with her. Taking the next opportunity, he offered Vi a ride home and she accepted.

Soon the couple announced that they planned to be wed. Edward and Amy were delighted at the news, but Violet Gray's family had opposing reactions. They had heard the tales of Archie's younger days and considered him to be too wild for their daughter. This may not have been fair to the young Mr. Ruggles, but the Grays' protective feelings toward their daughter and their other three children were understandable. They had experienced great difficulties in raising their family to adulthood.

Violet's father, Burt Gray, was the youngest of thirteen children and the son of Quakers from Maine. During the Civil War, he went south with others from the area to fight for the Confederacy. On July 4, 1865, when peace had just been declared, he married Margaret Duncan and moved with her to Texas. He was twenty-eight at the time and, according to their birth years in the family records, she was fourteen.

Burt and Maggie were able to make a good life for themselves under the hot Texas sun. In just a few years they had a home, land, and family of three. Then, suddenly, their years of fortune seemed to end.

In a quick sweep of death's crooked hand, all three children were stolen from them, leaving Burt and Maggie reeling with grief. For Burt, there were bouts of severe heartache, and on one occasion Maggie entered their room to find her shattered husband clutching the children's clothing and sobbing uncontrollably.

Soon he was even denied the opportunity to grieve when Maggie took sick with the same illness that had claimed their young family. Burt was warned to take her to a climate more favorable for her condition as quickly as possible, or she might be the next to die.

The decision to move was made in haste. As soon as the few possessions that would fit into their covered wagon were loaded, Burt and his sick wife set out. The neighbor who had been given the trust of selling the land, house, and remaining belongings was soon far behind them—and was never heard from again.

Their covered wagon rolled north in search of cooler weather. On one particular evening in Missouri, the story is told that Jesse James spent time with them at their camp. The infamous gunslinger had posed no threat, simply shared their fire and weak coffee, then left as quietly as he had come.

Finally, the Grays' wagon came to a stop on a farm near Osakis, Minnesota, where they settled and began their second family of four children—Lily, Violet, Irving, and Jesse. It was in Osakis that daughter Violet was courted by Archie Ruggles, the “judge's son.”

After overcoming her family's protest, Violet and Archie were married under the trees on the Gray family farm near the shore of Lake Osakis in July of 1902. From there they went to live on various local farms where Archie could find work.

It was not until several months after their wedding that Archie and Violet Ruggles were able to have a wedding photograph taken of them, and Vi was somewhat reluctant. When the cameraman instructed them to hold perfectly still, she held her breath and drew in her stomach, trying not to let her tension show in her face.

When the photo arrived, she gazed at it for quite some time, uncertain if her secret was evident or not. Little Royal was, at the time of the photography session, already on the way. Perhaps it had been unwise to go ahead with what they would consider their “wedding picture” when the supposed bride was in such a condition. Vi would be absolutely mortified if anyone incorrectly assumed that the picture was taken on the wedding day and that she had already been with child.

In the year of Archie and Vi's marriage, Judge Edward Ruggles gave up his bench with the encouragement of his wife, because Amy was afraid that he was making too many enemies. Instead, he purchased a local summer resort from a woman named Ida Wilde. Amy, being a creative person, dubbed the resort “Idlewilde,” and the couple, then in their forties, threw their efforts into making the posh resort profitable. Their wealthy guests stayed in the hotel and surrounding cabins and ate in one central dining room, enjoying the quiet of country life and a wonderful view of Lake Osakis spreading out before them.

Soon their grandchildren began to arrive. Idlewilde was a place to run and play while parents, aunts, uncles, and grandparents worked to keep the resort in order, the guests happy, and the scurrying children out of their path. Royal was the oldest of Archie and Vi's family. Then followed Burt, named after Vi's father. And, on July 30, 1906, a sweet baby girl, Amy Marie, who would be Janette's mother.

In 1906, Edward was given an opportunity to serve as secretary to Congressman Buchman, and he and his wife soon found themselves preparing for a winter's stay in Washington, D.C.

At the train station, Amy kissed the tiny granddaughter, whose name she shared, and her two growing grandsons good-bye, fighting back tears at the thought of how much they would change before she would see them again. The long winter months in the Capital would seem like an eternity away from these children, and it was difficult for her to turn and walk away.

Archie and Vi gathered the children together and headed for home. There was work to do. Chores waited and laundry had to be washed and ironed; dinner would be needed soon, and then the children would be tucked under the covers of their straw-tick beds.

Vi discovered that her family was to increase again. This time there was a special surprise. Twin girls were born, Laurine and Leone. And, of course, with the two babies came multiplied responsibilities. A kind older neighbor noticed the struggling mother and came often to help Vi hang her laundry. It was a welcome change to have another woman to talk with and the two became close friends.

The neighbor, soon known simply as Grandma Riley, was a solid Christian who prayed regularly for Vi, Archie, and their family. When the next baby was born, Grandma Riley was allowed to name him, and Ross was welcomed to the home.

Not long after the birth, whooping cough spread through the area. To the horror of their parents, the toddling twins both fell ill. Upon the recommendation of a doctor, the family would spend the winter in town. Archie moved them to one of the cabins of his parents' Idlewilde resort, and Vi settled in to nurse the youngsters back to health. To their great relief, both recovered.

Word came that Edward was to spend a second two-year term in Washington with Senator Clapp. So his sons and their families continued to run Idlewilde during his winter absences. Again, Amy was far from her growing grandchildren.

Then Vi's brother, Irving Gray, announced that he had decided to move to the province of Alberta, in Canada. It was difficult for Vi's parents, Burt and Maggie, to see their son travel so far from them. After they watched him drive away, Maggie hurried back into the house to shed her tears in private, but Burt stood for quite some time watching the dust settle back onto the road. Perhaps, he thought, someday he would follow.

The aging couple decided, instead, to move into town where Maggie took in boarders. Now Vi was able to see her mother often, and there was the added advantage of a baby-sitter whenever the young mother needed to work at the resort.