Lonna

JM: You said that you’ve already seen this photo. When did that happen?

Lonna: In 1979, the Seward County newspaper ran the photo and asked ‘Where is this girl?’ At that time, Claudine’s father was still alive, and he sees that picture and says, ‘Claudine, your picture is in the paper.’ And she looked at it, saw the ring on the girl's finger, and said, ‘I’ve always worn a ring on my right hand middle finger. That is me.’ She was amazed. We’ve always loved this photograph because of the starkness, the 1930s dry, dead grass, the harshness of the landscape, which kind of represents her life, which was tough. Her life is probably easier and more joyful now than it ever was. But all along, she has been a cheerful, happy, positive person.

JM: What was tough about her life?

Lonna: This farm has been in her family for over 100 years. Her dad came and bought the farm in the late ‘20s, when everything was going to heck in a hand basket. And they held it together and worked so hard. The reason they were able to survive in the ‘30s was because when her dad bought this farm, which is down in the river bottom, he planted alfalfa, which has roots that go way down, and they can tap down into the ground water. She didn’t have a house with running water until the 1960s. Her mother died when my husband was just a little over a year old. That was tough for her, because she was an only child. She held this farm together all these years and passed it on to my husband, and we’re still here, and we’re still doing well today because of her. We’re in a position that so few people are, owning all our land, and hopefully, we will pass it on to our son, and that means so much to both of us.

Roger

JM: How did your mother react when she saw her picture in the paper? And what’s happened since?

Roger: She said she ‘bout fell off her chair when she opened the newspaper. She called me and said, ‘You won’t believe it. I’m on the front page of the Seward Independent.’ This is wonderful for my mom, because she’s worked hard, she’s been humble, and she’s finally due for a little recognition. Ever since we saw that photo the first time, we’ve been struck by the beauty of it. It’s compelling. Her eyes draw you in, similar to the Mona Lisa. You want to know what’s on this child’s mind. In fact, I’ve started referring to it as ‘Mona Lisa of the Plains.’ Looking at the picture now, I can see her quiet strength. You know she’s gonna be there, she’s gonna withstand the blows of life. Taylor, my daughter, has the same look. That’s just how she looks when she’s thinking hard about something.

JM: What does your daughter think of the photo?

Roger: She thinks a lot about it. She took a copy to school today. We have several relatives in the area who are teachers, and they’re probably talking about this in their classrooms.

JM: Many people who look at this photo might react by saying, ‘What a bad situation to be in. She must have been a sad little girl.’ After all, the Farm Security Administration wanted to elicit that response in order to gain support for their programs.

Roger: I think the message of that photo is perseverance. You have to believe that times will get better, that the rains will come back. They learned to get through that, and in doing so, it made them stronger and better people. My grandpa always saved money. During the Depression, he would not even buy things he needed. He never even put running water or central heat in his house. In those times, you did everything. You raised the livestock, you butchered it, and you had to drag in water from outside and heat it on a stove. Nobody had any money in their pocket. No one had crops, and they had grasshoppers. I’ve read stories about how they covered their gardens with blankets, and the grasshoppers would eat the blankets. Mom used to have to walk to school, and she had to walk up this big, steep clay hill. By the time she got up there in late winter when it was thawing, she had about 10 pounds of mud on each boot. Mom lived in Utica with her grandmother the last few years in high school, because the roads were so muddy. To drive back and forth from the farm was quite a big deal because you could slide off the road. She helped out her grandmother. She did her bookkeeping and taxes, and brought in wood for her stove. Mom always talked about the creek being the center of social life before radio. The kids would ice skate down here. They would go out and spear fish by breaking a hole in the ice and tap on the ice farther down, and all the fish would swim toward the other kids by the hole. They hunted and trapped and fished, and most of their activities were down along the creek. There wasn’t a whole lot else to do.

JM: How old was your mother was she stopped working the farm?

Roger: My parents moved to Utica in 1988, so she would have been about 60. Dad would still come out and help me with the farm. He died in 2003.

JM: How much land do you have?

Roger: I have 520 tillable acres.

JM: What do you primarily grow now?

Roger: Soybeans and corn. When I was eight years old, my mom put four bunny rabbits on the edge of my bed on Easter morning, and I grew that into 212 head of rabbits. I sold about 200 head in about three months time. From there it grew into hogs, and in a few years, I was up to 200 head of hogs during the summer months when I was out of school. I ground all the feed for the hogs, filled the feeders, and watered them. Later on, when I got close to finishing school, I had 135 head of cattle and 200 head of hogs, year ‘round. When Dad got older and wanted to retire, I told him that I couldn’t handle all this cattle and hog business, so I decided to focus on grain farming. I credit my success as a farmer to my grandpa and my mother. They always saved. I’ve learned to pay cash, not buy on credit. I’ve been able to grow the farm little by little over the years. Right now, I feel that the small family farm is under attack, and it’s sad to see this culture go. There’s no words to describe what a wonderful feeling it is to farm on your own. It’s wonderful that the family shares in the work. It’s an experience of faith and honor and great integrity.