Ted Cowen, Sr. - Autobiographical Stories

NOTE: My grandfather wrote several remembrances of his youth. In some, he covered the same period of time and I have very lightly edited the pieces, trying to keep it in his own words as much as possible, but also trying to avoid repetition. My father clarified some things that he remembered from talking to his father, and a few changes or additions were made in grammar and spelling. Marsha (Cowen) Hosfeld

I remember when, around my 10th year of age, my folks told me the story about settling in a small village, not yet named, just being built up. Parts of land were taken up by people named homesteaders, signing up for places to clear of trees and brush and wild animals too. It was a wild territory. It took years to take over, driving the wild animals away, scattering them to the further north unsettled wooded land. The homesteaders took land grants from the government and became owners after clearing and developing the land and building homes. After years, they signed and became owners of the land shown on the papers. Daddy (Frank Cowen) talked of his father (Theodore S. Cowen) locating on a plot of timbered land, and an unknown party opposite their farm became neighbors and friendly and they helped each other to build roads and paths to different places. It took years to make improvements and for wagons to get through. As the young boy I was then, I remember the road and walking over it.

I remember Dad telling me of Grandpa Cowen carrying a hundred lbs of flour from Colby to his home on his back. No bakeries or places to buy food, it was made at home only. Dad was very sorry when his daddy went west years later with a flock of horses - trading, buying and selling to those that could afford or who could match up a trade. His equipment was a camping wagon drawn by 2 teams of horses. The wagon was large and too heavy to be handled by 1 team of horses. Grandpa (Cowen) had two men hired to go with him. In more settled farms, horses were the only power for moving heavy loads and other work, so trading and buying became very good. In the Dakotas, not too much was settled, just rugged, and his two helping men quit and returned back. Grandpa was alone then but he traveled on. Family didn’t hear from him for a long time and he never returned. Dad was worried for his father and feared he was massacred, his camping outfit and horses taken by the Indians. Was the dangerous part of his travels westward.

I remember Grandmother (Marilla Cowen) when I was a youngster, not yet going to school age. Grandmother smoked a pipe and my brother Fred and I would rig up a pipe and pretend smoking, sitting beside her in front of the heater. Grandmother lived with us while Grandpa was away. I remember too how Grandmother and Mother (Mary Doernenburg Cowen) became very sad the longest time. Dad loved his father and worried about him very much. Fred and I were too young to understand the serious part of his absence.

Dad talked about the work required getting a road through to a small village. Took two years to complete a route for traffic. Meeting another team going opposite directions, you had to edge by to pass. Years later, well built. We neighbors got to be like relatives, helping each other. My mother, a daughter of our neighbor, and Dad, a young man, married and had a family of 4 children. Grandpa and Grandmother (Doernenburg) had a family of 6 (five) children. We all became more acquainted as time passed. The small town or village got built to a larger town, with stores and many other buildings.

When we lived on our farm, I often went hunting nearby. Pa would scold me if I ventured out too far. I had a 22 caliber rifle and became a good shooter. Fred was two years younger, and we were together wherever we went because of the wilds around us.

Some years before I was born, Wisconsin Railroad Authority started extending their main line further west. A junction was built going west to Saint Paul, and north to Ashland, Wisconsin. Took years for construction through timber land and swamp, with bridges over rivers via Ladysmith. Then track was laid over ties and ballast, getting gravel where possible along the right of way beside the road bed. Construction workers at stayed at Abbot town, later called Abbotsford, named for a railroad owner (Edwin H. Abbot, President of Wisconsin Central).

Later, when construction was completed (1880 ?), Wisconsin Central Railroad began to build a small depot, a round house for engines, and other improvements for operation of business, hauling freight and logs to the mill built at Abbotsford. Farmers began to bring logs in for sawing into lumber. Help was required and very scarce. Grandpa (Friedrich "Fred") Von Doernenburg from Germany went to Abbotsford and took a job in railcar repairs and accumulated savings. He bought a 10 acre farm, and as Abbotsford extended, Main street was beside Grandfather’s farm. Later it was divided into lots and sold to builders of small stores. Grandpa became wealthy and a pioneer of Abbotsford. Grandmother (Wilhelmina "Minna" Doernenburg) was experienced and brought many births and took care of the sick. Grandpa tells me all this in our talks we often had. When Abbotsford had built up, more tracks were laid and ballasted, and small trains began to operate - regular, freight, and passenger trains with 2 and 3 bed time coaches.

I remember at school, instructions were given for playing foot ball. Some time later, the foot ball was given by the School Board. During recess, we played foot ball, refereed by the teacher. We were lined up to take a lesson and I was chosen to play with four other boys taken from the line. In our play, I caught a fly kicked up by one of the roughnecks and ran for the goal. I was tackled and forced to down and I kept the ball under me. The next play was so close to the goal, I dove in for a touchdown, and I was patted on the back. Big me.

A kid sitting in front of me with a large book in front of his face was poking fun at me. I raised my hand to be excused, but instead, when I got out, I went to the wood shed and got a large hard bark chip. Wood was used in those days for heat. When he poked fun at me again, I stood up when the teacher had her back turned and I clouted him on the head and shoulder and sat down quick. The teacher heard the rumpus and she didn’t know what happened. Kids were all busy and I got away with the daring act.

On our way home after Sunday school, we had a fist fight. I happened to trip him. Down he went and hurt himself bad. I was the champ thereafter and he kept away from me.

When I was age 17 (1902), my pal Pete and I decided we’d like to take a trip west. We were standing on the bridge beside the Union Depot at Minneapolis. Under the bridge, the North Coast Limited stood loading passengers, baggage, and US Mail. We climbed over the railing and dropped down on the top of a coach, about a 10 foot drop. We laid down to avoid being seen. We heard the conductor yell "All aboard!" The bell began to ring, the train started to move, and then we were on our way west.

We went through two rain storms and severe wind. I thought a tornado couldn’t be worse. We got to Minot, North Dakota, riding through the night, arriving at Minot at noon. The train crew began to round us up. Running over the top of the coaches, they lost track of us. We ran to the rear of the train and climbed down. Hanging on the awning, we dropped down to the platform and we ran to the street. We looked back and the train crew and cop saw us on the street.

We managed to catch another train going west that evening. Got out to Forsyth, Montana. We got ditched there. It was a small town and a railroad division. We inquired about a west trip to a brakeman. He told us conditions west were bad for bums. They are picked up and work on the streets. He advised us we better go back to Minneapolis. So we took his advice and decided to return home.

Looking over a stock train, we decided to crawl into a feeding rack. A brakeman looking over the sheep asked us where we were going. We told him to Minneapolis. He said "Are you from there?" I said "No, I’m from Abbotsford." He said "Do you know Mr. Galvin?" I said "Yes, very well." He said "Go back to the caboose and sit inside by the stockmen in there." So we did.

Soon the train was on its way. Conductor Galvin, who used to live in Abbotsford, came and talked to us. "Ted" he said, "what got you out here?" I said "We wanted to get out west. We heard so much about it. Then we heard conditions are bad going west." "They are tough" he said, "Are you hungry?" I told him we’d had nothing to eat for two days. He had a large basket of lunch. There was so much, I imagine it was for a round trip return to his home. He set his open lunch between us and we just about ate all of it. Kind heart, Mr. Galvin. I’ve prayed for him many times for such a favor, when I think of him. He said "Ted, I’m on a fast stock train and I’ll square you and Pete when crews change. You’ll probably get to Minneapolis without any trouble."

The dream of getting back so nice backfired at the last division. About 150 miles from Minneapolis, a hard-boiled conductor put us off. We were in Frazee, Minnesota (if I am reading his handwriting correctly and it is Frazee, then it is more like 250 miles away). Looking over a freight train, we heard a noise in a car. We found the end door loose, so we opened it and crawled into the car and both of us pulled the door shut. There were about 20 bums in there.

After about an all night run, we got to Minneapolis, Minnesota. Pete’s dad was a Soo Line conductor. He took us to Abbotsford and we were glad, too.

My hometown was Abbotsford, Wisconsin. I was born and brought up there. Dad was a car inspector. When I was about 11 years old (about 1896), we lost our home - destroyed by a fire, three other buildings included, one a blacksmith shop next to our house. Part of our furniture was saved, but the two-story house was lost to a defective over-heated stove pipe. Dad owned a small 15 acre farm one mile east of Abbotsford, surrounded by heavy forest. Bear, deer and wolves, a few of them seen many times, so close to town. A short railroad passed by at the back of our farm. Privately owned by a man named Rietbrock, it ran from Abbotsford to Athens, 17 miles - a small engine #1 and five or six cars. Fred and I would watch the trains pass by. After the fire, Dad built a house and we located there.

I used to go hunting nearby. Pa would scold me if I ventured out too far. I had a 22 caliber rifle and became a good shooter. Fred was two years younger, and we were together wherever we went because of the wilds around us.

My sister was born two years later, in 1898, when I was 13. Mother became sick after childbirth. Dad got Fred and me from school one afternoon because our mother was passing away. She knew she was dying and told me to take care of Fred. My sister Minnie and brother Archie, age four, went to live with Mother’s parents. Fred and I stayed with Dad.

We went to school part time, but were neglected terrible. Dad claimed drowning his sorrows was a good excuse. I was old enough to know. Dad liked his booze. Things went to worse. My brother Fred and I were mostly on our own, living on the family farm or bumming in town. Fred sold papers and I shined shoes for a couple years. Soon we were just about taking care of ourselves. Our farm had about 4 acres of trees, large and small. At age 14, and brother Fred aged 12, we sawed up small trees for stove wood. That was the fuel used those days. We made piles in cord size, 8 ft long, 4 ft high. I inquired different places to sell wood. At age 14 (1899), I sold a cord of wood to Mr. Austin. It was winter. I knew a dray man by the name of Bramer who had a mule and sleigh, and he let me use it to make the delivery. Half way to town I got stalled at a bare spot in the road. I unloaded ¾ of the wood to get the sleigh onto snow. I carried the wood to load again. I made a nice pile beside the shed in back of Mr. Austin’s shop - Ed Austin Meat Market.

My brother Fred, 12, was staying with a kind family that took him in because we boys had no home. Bumming around, dirty worn out clothes. Cold weather, no clothes to keep us warm. It was puzzling what to do. Another boy and myself collected a bag of old shoes and other junk to sell. We put a stone in with the contents so the bag would weigh more, and carried it to a place that bought that stuff. The clerk got suspicious and dumped the junk out. When we saw the stone, we both ran out the back door. Later we found our bag of trash standing to the side and we took it to be hauled away by the regular junk pickup.

Later, when I was 15, I was taken in by the Austin family. First year was nice and treated nicely too - school, board, clothing - and I’d help his two sons doing chores. He had a team of horses and used them for traveling to farms, buying cows, hogs, and sheep for slaughter. He was a butcher by trade. Once, Mr. Austin asked me if I wanted my name changed, but I didn’t answer him. He never asked me again after that. The owner and Mrs. Austin were mostly good to me, and I’m sorry of leaving the way I did. Young punk and continuously planning.

I was supposed to go to school with their children but was kept out so much I got to be a chores boy, doing extra work like cleaning guts, called casings, for sausage. One day I fried scraps of trimmings from meat - a large amount - to get tallow out into a fluid solution to run through a press. The scraps were collected for probably more than a month, stored in a shed exposed to flies and full of maggots. Worked all day at it, feeding the boiler and frying out the scraps. The kettle was large, constructed over a stove. The batter had to be stirred to keep from burning. My, how rotten smelling the odor was! Supper time I laid on the couch so sick I couldn’t eat, but I felt normal the next day.

One afternoon we were given the job of slaughtering. We butchered a critter. To do it one time, that was enough. I didn’t have the constitution for killing those innocent critters.

Shortly after that it got to be too much so I ran away, Fred and me. We got to a town north of Dorchester - Mother’s home town (Elsie Schwermer - He did not meet his future wife until years later). We sat beside a coal kiln, so called those days. Then we decided to go back. Walked 4 miles back. I walked in the house and what a look at I got. They took me back with a scolding, for a short time.

One day the Colby, Wisconsin butcher stopped at Austin Market. Austin called me into the shop and sent me to Colby with the butcher Wenzel. I found out it was sort of a presto-chango just to get rid of me. And what a break it was. I was glad to go.

Later, I got a job as chores boy at the Tennant Hotel. 16 years old (1901). Worked there quite a while. He had a 5 horse livery stable. One morning Dick, the owner, was helping me. There were a couple of deliveries to make and I had to get the horse fed and ready for the trip. No auto those days. He opened the large oat bin and there was my brother Fred, sleeping on the oats. Because I worked there Fred thought it would be OK. Then Dick took in Fred and he roomed with me. Dick allowed it.

When I was growing up in Abbotsford, there were no streetlights, only lanterns were used at night. Later, 12 streetlights were placed on corners and my uncle (Fred Doernenburg, Jr.?) had the job of lighting the lamps on a post. Once a week he filled the small holder with a week’s supply of oil. When lighting the lamps each day, he blew enough oil in place to burn till midnight. Once a week he would go around with a stepladder, cleaning the lamps. Some were smoked up and would cause a shade over the light. There were no sidewalks on the back streets.

One afternoon Grandma (Doernenburg) sent me to their farm 1½ miles from town. I had a shot gun muzzle loader. I went to a small clearing and thought I would get a shot at a partridge. In the thick woods, about 2 rods from the road, I heard cracking of brush. I looked around and there was a large black bear on his hind legs. I aimed at him. Got the buck fever and couldn’t shoot. The bear started to circle around me. I quickly made for the road and high tailed it down to Grandpa’s farm. I told him to be careful when he came home with the 3 cows. Sold milk to customers.

When I was 17 and Fred was 15, Dad sold his farm and Fred and I had no home to go to. We put up with sleeping many different places. Later, with help from our Grandmother and Grandpa (Doernenburg), things got better.

When my friend Pete and I returned from our bumming trip out west, I got a job in the tool room at Soo Line engine repair outside of Minneapolis. Later, I came back to Abbotsford and got a job calling (as call boy) and worked continuously and was promoted to different jobs. My sleeping quarters were on the waiting room floor - roaches crawling around. As I got older, I began to get jobs with $30 or more pay those days.

My brother Fred educated himself mostly and so did I. He was a young man who learned telegraphy by himself and through different promotions got to be a train dispatcher and was well liked by the railroad men.

I am now retired. For many years I was a Train Baggageman handling large sums of currency being transferred between the various banks along the train route. I was also responsible for the Railroad remittance money. All this was kept secured in a huge car safe with 2 doors for protection. I had the combination of the safe to enable currency transfers for delivery. Also I had a smaller personal safe for local pickup and deliveries along the train route.

My brother Fred’s heart failed him and he went on disability at age 60. I worked 4 extensions beyond age 65 until I finally retired at age 67. After retiring I worked 2 years as a police officer. Following this, I worked as the desk clerk in a laundry for 14 years.

Returning home from my western bumming trip and looking for work, I hired out to the Soo Line Railroad at Shoreman (Shorewood or Shoreview?), outside of Minneapolis, in the railroad engine repair shop. I worked in the tool room, giving out tools with a deposit of a numbered chip.

Returning to Abbotsford, I started working as engine call boy nights and later days. Around engines a good share of the time. Was promoted to engine watchman at the roundhouse, 7 engines or more waiting for assignment. They were under water and steam continuously.

When I was calling crews I used to fire the boiler and run the pump and weigh cars. All of 2 winters, 2 years. The very first night I started on the calling job, it was winter, cold, and I remember 4 inches of snow. I didn’t have shoes warm enough for outside. So when I stayed at my Grandma Doernenburg’s, she let me wear her felt shoes with Cuban heals. I remember it was sorta awkward walking around, and I did a lot of walking.

Later, I was sent to Owen, Wisconsin, as the Lidgerwood operator engineer to plow off ballast from ballast cars, building a railroad line from Owen to Duluth. The route was through very thick forest, very wild in the year 1905 - deer, bear, porcupines, wolves, snakes and turtles. At Black River Bridge, a three span bridge 3 miles north of Owen, it was swampy and there was a large sink hole at one end of the bridge that had to be filled in before we could get trains of gravel to the other side. Old ties, cement by the bag, and logs were thrown in and many trains of gravel were plowed in to fill that hole. After about a week we succeeded and could use the bridge safely.

We arrived at Ladysmith, a good sized town with 2 large paper mills supporting it, to plow ballast off of two trains. The townspeople were there to greet us, I guess because they were so happy to have another railroad - the Wisconsin Central railroad. We crossed the Soo Line in Ladysmith and a depot was built near the crossing later, where the original rails and ties were laid. I was stationed at Ladysmith to check on all carloads of rails and ties for faulty breaks and I adjusted them for quick spotting.

After that work was suspended, I was promoted to fireman - fired time freights, passenger trains, and switch engines. Some of those trips passed through New Richmond. My brother Fred’s first job was there. He had learned the telegraph operator job at the pump house (in Abbotsford ?). Had a line connected from the dispatcher’s office to the pump house about 2 blocks away where he worked firing an upright boiler and running a large pump. The dispatchers liked Fred and they allowed the wire and instruments line so he could learn. It was nice to see him on his first job when I was going through New Richmond. On one trip, the conductor put off (issued) a delayed report. I was fireman and the train was 15 minutes late. There’s a four mile up hill, a bad one, and we lost some time because the engine had leaking flewsket (flue gasket ?). Fred tore up the delay report. Brotherly love, eh! We were on time at Abbotsford west yard.

The fireman job got so slow I hardly made my salt, so I transferred to train service on the south end, Abbotsford to Fond du Lac, and later took a train baggageman job. I was living at Stevens Point, working on the Portage line a year, when I transferred to Chicago. When we moved to Chicago (before 1920 Census), it was very hard for Mother (Elsie Schwermer Cowen) and me getting used to the ways of city life. I raised my family in Forest Park, while running out of Chicago. In all, the time since we moved to Forest Park totals 54 years, 49 years at 825 Hannah. I took my pension in 1952.

We thank God for all favors. 50 years of service, railroading. When operating the Lidgerwood, unloading a train of gravel, we ate at a shack in the woods - a farmer starting on a homestead those days. A fawn deer always watched for me on my way for a meal. I had sugar I gave it to eat. All the time we were there I gave it sugar, cute little deer.

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CLARK CO. WI HISTORY HOME PAGE

1.	True Story of the Cowens
	Homesteading - Abbotsford - railroads building up - Doernenburgs
2.	School Days
	Football - bullies - joke
3.	True Story of Our Trip West
	Pete - Minneapolis - North Dakota - Montana - home
4.	Boyhood Days
	Fire - mother’s death - firewood - the stone in the bag Austin - tallow - slaughtering - Wenzel Tennant –street lamps - buck fever - railroad job Fred learning telegraphy - retirement
5.	Railroad Days
	Minneapolis - Abbotsford - Fred - Stevens Point - Forest Park - 50 years