Annual Picnic - Pennsylvania Historical Society of Nebraska

Penn Colony meets for 90th Consecutive Year

Ninety-four descendants of the fourteen Pennsylvania Dutch families who settled at Dawson in the 1870’s and 80’s met for the 90th consecutive year August 13 and 14 at Dawson and Humboldt. The event attracted relatives from eleven states.

The group met in 1922, at the Jacob S. Heim home. [They first met in 1914, but the current streak did not begin until eight years later.] They continued to meet at homes and in shady groves in the Dawson area until recent years, when their descendants sought relief in the air-conditioned Ag building in nearby Humboldt.

A picnic dinner was catered at Humboldt by the Wooden Spoon Sunday noon, followed by a dessert bar of old family favorites. After a short business meeting at which the drive to build a meeting/display building at the group’s museum at Dawson was discussed, attendees viewed displays featuring the Nelson Ulmer and Howard Heim families, renewed acquaintances, and toured the museum at Dawson.

Fern Heim of Lincoln was the oldest member present at 95, while Sophie Callaway of Lincoln was the youngest at 3. Neal and Shirley Pierce of Salem, Oregon came the longest distance.

The traditional watermelon feed at the Henry Heim house Saturday night attracted 57 members and friends, and a large number attended the memorial service held in connection with the worship service at the Christian Church in Humboldt Sunday morning. The memorial moment was given by Jean Heim Feitshans of Perry, Georgia, daughter of Howard Heim and great granddaughter of the original settlers, Jacob G. and Regina Heim.

Updated December 24th, 2011

Nostalgia in a Box

by Keith M. Heim

Make no mistake about it, having the “picnic” indoors under air conditioning with flies and other pests under reasonable restriction represents a step forward, but some of us oldsters cannot help remembering fondly, from a perspective of many years, the old days when the annual frolic was held in various front yards and groves—Uncle Jake Heim’s yard, Wesley Heim’s and Art Heim’s groves, and other sites around the Dawson area.

Long tables laden with brought-in food—Aunt Lizzie’s cheese salad, Mary Elizabeth’s deviled eggs, my mom’s famous white coconut cake—were placed under the shade of the trees (no problem fishing the flying fluff of the cottonwoods out of your ice cream), and we sat on long, splintery wooden planks borne up by large chunks of wood to eat our dinner. Lots of time for visiting, games of horseshoes and softball, and of cops and robbers by the younger kids, and there were plenty of them!

Now, with catered meals, booming PA sets, and a somewhat sterile, closed-in environment, the “picnic” seems to us to have lost something. But maybe not irretrievably. It strikes me that we could offer box lunches at the picnic, a sort of carry-out containing, say, potato salad (no problem with ptomaine if eaten by mid afternoon), ham salad sandwiches, a home-made pickle, a deviled egg, Jello fruit salad, potato chips, and a square of Duncan Hines white cake? No doubt a shady grove could still be found somewhere in the Dawson area, and those wanting to experience the delights of an earlier, bucolic era could take their lunches there and relive the old days.

Of course, we could only hope, as we used to do, that the temperature would not top the 100-degree mark by 10 a.m. and that a sudden, violent, thundering, electrical cloud-burst would not send us scurrying to our cars to wait it out. Nevertheless, we all would want the experience to be as authentic as possible.

No doubt the multiplying descendants of the flights of flies, armies of ants, troves (?) of ticks, and migrations of mosquitoes of the by-gone era would greet us fondly. A price per box lunch of $25 would not seem to be unreasonable, allowing a small profit for the Penn Colony Society. Diners could be offered additional options: Sunburn lotion available for an additional $5; a spray can of “Off” for those who tire of insects easily at $3 (at cost), Ace bandages in case you sprain an ankle avoiding an inquisitive garter snake, only $4 each. Assuming that the old catalpa tree is there, still furnishing long, flexible, green pods suitable for sword fights, mothers are encouraged to bring their own ice packs to soothe the red welts their offspring will bring to them. Of course, they should also bone up on enough first aid to distinguish between the welts and reddening poison ivy (lotion at only $5 a bottle). Liability and accident insurance, of course, are entirely up to the picnic-goers.

I am sure that this option will appeal to many of us. Please reserve your box lunch no later than two weeks before the picnic to allow us time to prepare the food and medications. Of course, The Colony Penn would be happy to publish any first hand accounts and reminiscences of those who take this journey into the past. Colored photos of victims would be welcome. Please remember to write identifications on the backs.

Memories of the farm

Remarks by Frances Heim Whited at the dedication of the Henry Heim House, August 8, 2009

My first recollections of life on the farm are of the little house which sat amid towering pines across the road from where we now stand. It was a small house with no indoor plumbing or running water. Refrigeration was a tubular cooler in which milk, butter, and other foods were lowered into the ground to keep them cool. The same type of cooler was in the corner of the pantry in this house. When my brother “Bud” (Gerald Heim) had the measles, Ron came across the road to the bedroom window and Buddy blew in his face so Ron would be sick at the same time as Buddy. It didn’t work out that way, but they tried. The lane would drift shut in the winter, and Buddy, Ron, and I would hook a sled up to Buddy’s horse, “Buck,” and I sat on the sled, (just a small Red Flyer) and go flying down the lane with the horses hoofs inches from my head. My mother was in a panic most of my young years!

To the west behind the barn that still stands was a large apple orchard. Grandpa Henry tended it and sold Golden Delicious, Red Delicious, Winesap, and Jonathan apples at 50 cents to a dollar per bushel.

I have many memories of this house. Often when I came home from school in the fall, my mother and father would be out in the field shucking corn or doing some other tasks, and I would come across the road to the Big House, where Aunt Bess would make me the best treat in the world—a slice of homemade bread with brown sugar on it and drizzled with thick cream. She would have me sit at the kitchen table while she went to the pantry to fix the treat. I would know what was coming because I heard the squeak of the pulley that brought up the cooler which contained the nice, thick cream from the depths of the earth. I could hardly wait. Often I would play Chinese checkers with Grandma Little (Bess’ mother, who lived with them). I always tried to win and usually she would let me.

Sometimes, I would go to the barn where Uncle Paul would be milking the cows, and I would sit on my own little milking stool. He would tell me jokes and make me laugh, and squirt milk into my mouth. To this day, I do not like warm milk! When Ron sold his farm equipment, he sent me a pair of cow kickers which I still treasure.

As any energetic farm girl would do, I had free run of the place. One evening I was with my Daddy and was watching him pitch corn over the fence to the hogs. He had an old sharp scoop shovel and as he brought it back full of ears of corn I ran right into it and cut a nice slice across my nose.

I still have the scar if you look closely. Daddy grabbed me up and ran to the barn yelling, “Edna come here, I think I killed the kid.” Of course they took me to the house and put cold cloths on my head. They took me to Uncle Harlan at Humboldt to sew me up. Sooo--Aunt Bess came across the road and sat with me while my folks finished the chores. I remember waking up and she was sitting right beside me and holding my hand. She had such a gentle voice and touch and I went right back to sleep.

When I went across the road to the Big House, I sought out Ron so he would play with me. He was a great athlete at Dawson High and had a high jump and pole vault rig set up behind the house. Being a dare devil, I would try anything, and he taught me to high jump and I got pretty good at it for a GIRL!!! One time I jumped and lit on a rusty tin can and cut my head open. That took care of high jumping for a while. When everyone was busy and I was left to my own devices, I would go up the narrow stairs here to the attic and rummage around in all the “stuff” that was up there. Aunt Bess and Uncle Paul did not use the upstairs but for storage so it was a treasure trove of goodies to explore. I found a gas mask with dark stains on it and always wondered if it was Uncle Paul’s when he was in World War I. I never had the courage to ask about it.

This has been a trip through my childhood not always attached to this beautiful home but I do consider it a part of my life as I have spent many hours here visiting with both Uncle Paul and Aunt Bess and of course Ron and Carolee—when sadness enveloped me it was here I came after burying my mother and my son. The immediate family always gathered here in times of celebration and sadness. As Carolee wrote in her “Memories of an Old Home” [Issue 14, April 2003], “All our lives are a weaving of what we are born with, the memories, the residue of the past, and the choices that we make today. This home has woven itself into many lives, and we honor it and love it.”

[Ed. note: Okay, readers. How many of you know what “cow kickers” are?]

Moving forward . . .

A message from the President

With the closing of the Dawson Bethel United Methodist Church, the Penn Colony has acquired from the church many artifacts connected with family history, making the issues of display and storage now more pressing. The architect’s original conceptual drawing of the development of the Henry Heim farm property included a multi-purpose building. This has been downsized to a smaller version capable of being enlarged as necessary. The now proposed building would, among other uses, include a display area for artifacts (we have a large quantity of display cases), a sheltered area for the annual watermelon feed; the flexibility to convert an area to a chapel to hold the picnic weekend Sunday memorial service; and the eventual ability to host the Sunday reunion noon meal.

The Penn Colony has obtained preliminary bids for the construction of this building. The building would be located just west of the summer kitchen and connected to the Henry Heim House via the summer kitchen. The present garage and attached shed would be relocated. The bids indicate the cost for the building, including rough-ins for plumbing for restrooms and a kitchen area, approximate $50,000. Based on the preliminary bids, the Penn Colony is undertaking a fundraising effort to secure funds or pledges of funds for at least 75 percent of the estimated project cost. We have obtained a pledge for the structural steel component of the building and for the cost of paving the covered patio area.

A donation of $25 equates to approximately one square foot of the proposed building. Multiples of this amount would mean the Penn Colony can move forward to a realization of a museum building and a location for future memorial services.

The acquisition of the Henry Heim House and acreage provided a rallying point for the Penn Colony organization. Your support of the restoration of that house was tremendous—an accomplishment all can be proud of. The recent setback with the water and furnace problems was overcome with your support. To keep moving forward, we are again asking for your support.

Life memberships and memorial donations have helped the organization’s efforts to accomplish its mission. We look forward to this continued support.

—Dan Pleiss