We Were Told to Leave

This generation of relatives that I'm in has done well. As a group, I'd say we have outdone what our parents were able to do. We can be proud of our accomplishments, our careers, our families. Most of us married, with children, and some with grandchildren. Our lives are certainly different from those of the 5 Linn brothers who had their start on a Litchfield property, in a house built in the late 1800's that couldn't withstand the elements, that didn't have running water or electricity, that was up a 1/2 mile lane, in Iowa where the snow and winds could be deadly.

We've all heard, I'm sure, about their long, long walks to school. How deep WAS the snow? It depends on who's telling the story! All but Stanley finished high school, something that wasn't always common in the 1940's and 50's. Three of the 5 Linn brothers served in the military. At least one of the 5 owned his own business. All 5 started by working on the family farm with Peter.

When my family moved to the Litchfield property, my older brother was the only child. But all four of us lived on that farm, my brother and I attending Dayton Elementary School until we moved in 1957. On October 4, 1956, we received a letter to vacate the property by February 28, 1957. This letter, shown below, was written by the farm service that managed some of the Litchfield properties. 

I don't know the reason for this action by Litchfield, but it could have been because they had plans for the property to be sold or farmed by someone else; the property as used by my family may have been losing money for too long; or other reasons. Regardless, we had to be gone by February 28, 1957.

The Farm Sale was conducted on a blistery, cold day, January 29, 1957, and was not well attended. On February 14, 1957, my brother and I were picked up from school and the six of us drove to our new home in Des Moines. I remember the ride because I read all of the valentine cards that my classmates had given me at our Valentine's Day party that day.

We landed at our new home, a two-bedroom bungalow in a working-class neighborhood. The house was owned by Peter and Maude Linn. I really don't know the circumstances for why we couldn't or didn't rent something on our own, but nevertheless, we became renters for our grandparents who lived just a few blocks away. My father didn't have a secure job lined up (differing stories about what happened there), but he worked odd jobs and my mother went to work at Katz Drugstore. We started school, just two blocks away, and came home to a babysitter. Life was certainly different in this big city.

Since this isn't MY story, I'll stop at the circumstances of our leaving the farm and our arrival in Des Moines. 

The above letter, though, was clearly telling us that we had to leave the farm.