My Path is Endless Because My Ancestors
Blazed the Trail

This isn’t my story to tell, but it is my heritage to remember – and to pass on to my grandchildren.  

My great grandparents were both born in Russia.  My great grandfather Lorenz came to the United States in the spring of 1900.  His soon-to-be wife, Katherine, came in the autumn of that same year.  They met and married soon after she arrived in North Dakota.   

This is just a small chapter of their story.     

In the spring of 1901, Lorenz purchased two old horses, harnesses and a wagon, all for $125.00.  A little later in the spring Lorenz and his brother-in-law Frank Glatt purchased two more horses at an auction for $155.00.  They used the two old horses as collateral to purchase these two younger, stronger horses.  Lorenz co-signed for Frank’s mortgage, and Frank co-signed for Lorenz’s mortgage.  My great uncle Larry Engelhart was a banker his entire life so this story makes him laugh.  

The next day, the two men traveled to Eureka to purchase a plow and seed for $25.00, and again used the two old horses as collateral.  The same day they purchased some wood to build a sod house and again mortgaged the two horses.  The two old horses had now been mortgaged three times in as many days.  I’m not sure if I believe the next part, but as the story goes, they returned home with the horses and took them into the house to make sure they would stay safe.

Lorenz and Katherine Engelhardt moved out of Frank Glatt’s home to start their own family, in a world free of Czars and labor camps.  They set out for Venturia with a pig and five chickens that had been given to them, a cow that didn’t give milk and their horses, which the bank owned 3 times over.  Their temporary residence was a small, musty sod house on the edge of their homestead.  It was hot and dusty in the summer and freezing cold in the winter, but at least it was somewhere to lay their heads at night.   

My great grandparents now had everything they needed to plant their first crop.  Lorenz seeded 20 acres of wheat and eight acres of flax, then placed their fate in Mother-Nature’s unpredictable hands.  They had no feed for the horses so they picked whatever native grass they could find in the pasture; and until the harvest, Lorenz and Katherine lived on bread, tea and one can of cream.  Yet, the hardest work still lay ahead of them. 

I am in awe of their willingness to work through hardships and unexpected setbacks in their quest for freedom.  Though their story sometimes reads like a comedy of errors, their faith kept them going.  The summer of 1901 was spent building a small barn of sod, but just as the barn was completed, one side caved in.  With the help of neighbors, it was rebuilt.  Next, a neighbor’s calf fell into the Engelhardt’s cellar and destroyed what was left of their only can of cream.  Katherine was still cleaning the mess in the cellar when their only pig got his head stuck in the empty cream can and suffocated.

I wonder if they laughed or cried.   

They built their own home of sod and bricks made of clay before North Dakota’s cold winter set in, but not until they realized that their first harvest was going to be poor.  Of the 28 planted acres, the harvest was only about 50 bushels.  The wheat had to be kept for seed and the flax was sold for about $30.00, enough to purchase supplies for the winter. 

As well as farming, Lorenz also worked for the railroad while the rails were being laid near Venturia.  For $2.50 a day, Lorenz walked to the work site in the morning, and walked home at night to be with his wife.   

It was a lonely time, and they were homesick for family.  Lorenz left behind his mother, two brothers and a sister in Russia.  He would later receive news that his older brother Franz was killed by Russian soldiers and his eldest sister died during the birth of her first child.  His other brother Jacob had four children but research has never given us any proof that any of them ever made it to America.    

The two of them were the only family they had until they started their own family of 12.  Two of their children died as infants but the remaining 10 all lived long into adulthood.  My grandfather Joseph Engelhardt is the youngest, and unbelievably, is the only child who spells his last name the same as his parents.  The older children were all taught by teachers to spell their last name without the ‘d’ - Engelhart.   

My grandpa says it doesn’t really matter that his brothers and sisters spell their name differently because no one really knows how the true German to English translation should be.  After all, my great grandfather spelled his name the way he did because the clerk who was working at the Port of New York the day he arrived in America translated it that way.   

No matter how you spell the name, Lorenz and Katherine’s story will live forever.  Though only four of their children are alive today, their descendents cover the country and include 54 grandchildren and 119 great grandchildren.  There are over 200 great-great grandchildren, and that generation has just begun.  

My story, this story, ends as it should, on their first 4^th of July together.  Katherine sold a small ball of butter for .35.  With those few coins, she bought coffee, matches and a small gift for her husband - some tobacco; a luxury he hadn’t had since he came to America.          

And they celebrated being free.  

BIBLIOGRAPHY    

Venturia’s Golden Jubilee Book, 1951. 

Katherine Engelhardt’s obituary, Aberdeen American News, Sunday, June 17, 1956.

Lorenz Engelhardt’s obituary, Aberdeen American News, Tuesday, June 7^th 1966.