Fred was born in the area of Odessa in Russia in 1877, but, of course, he was not really Russian but German, as his grandfather had migrated from Germany to Russia.

      Fred and his parents arrived here in America in 1888 and took a homestead upon arrival seven miles north of Bethune and just a little east.  When Fred was 16 and his brother, Andrew, a little older, they went out to look for work.  At first they worked on ranches as far away as north of Denver.

      Fred was back here working on the famous Bar T before he was 20.  Most of the things that were typical of outfits like this happened before Fred went to work there.  I have heard my father speak of some of them.  One was about the time when the, farm hand shot down the Mexican, when it was just a misunderstanding about a pair of gloves.  Then there was another story about a man from Denver by the name of Munsinger and he was making a living by locating homesteaders and charging for it.  He also did surveying.  I do not know if he was qualified as a surveyor but someone had to do it.  One day my father and Mr. Munsinger were going north to the Bar T to a rock claim.  I don't know if they were going to get some rocks or not, but you could take a rock claim with another claim if you could find one and you could also take what you called a desert claim the same way.  A desert claim was one that the government thought was too sandy or hilly to support a family.

      Anyway, they were on their way to this rock claim and were intending to go through the Bar T as was the custom, and the Bar T was liking Mr. Munsinger less all the time, for one more homesteader meant a little less grass for the Bar T. Before they came to the Bar T gate one of the ranch wagons fell in just ahead of my father and Mr. Munsinger and told them not to come in.  Munsinger said to get out of the way for they were coming in, but when the Bar T men produced three guns Papa and Mr. Munsinger had to withdraw, but Mr. Munsinger was mad and turned around to go arm himself.  I guess it had to come to a showdown sometime to see if this land could be homestead, that the government said was open for homesteading and the Bar T had fenced in.

      Papa kept trying to get him to change his mind, but he kept right on going and did get a gun and came back, but he finally gave up and went the long around to get to the rock claim.

      Later on  they clashed again southwest of the Bar T headquarters.  I think that Mr. Munsinger was surveying; he could have been as they kept getting closer with this work and Munsinger was armed this time and they shot it out.  Munsinger killed the foreman and shot the heel off another-man's boot.  Someone asked Munsinger why he got one shot so low and he said he aimed low and did not want to kill the second man.

      Yes, Fred had some experiences while working on the Bar T, but they were the kind that fell the lot of all ranch hands at that time.  There was lots of saddle work for they rode for miles and miles.  There were lots of other things to do that, the boys who think they would like to be cowboys never connect with ranch work., There was the time that he had to go to Lamar with two other men and get a trainload of Southern steers that were coming in.  The train had been held up on the line by something they could not help.  It may have been a washout or a wreck, I cannot remember anymore, but the steers came in terrible shape.  They were in the cars so long that their hips were raw and were awfully weak.  Then they just had to be branded before they left the yards, for as soon as they got them out of town they might mix with other cattle or some would stray away. There was a lot of them.  I think it was 1,000.  They got them branded and then started out with them through Lamar to the ranch north.  Three of them were so weak, that they dropped in the street before they got out of town and a few more after that, but it was way after dark before they got them out far enough to let them bed down.  Then the men were ready to try and get themselves something to eat, but before they had started here came an official from Lamar and said that they had to move those dead cattle out of town.  They did just that with nothing to do it with but their ropes and the tired saddle horses.

      The year that they got this big shipment of steers from Lamar the ranch said that they had not made any money and Fred did not get paid his wages.  They were supposed to give $5.00 extra for every horse he broke and I think he received that.  Water was sometimes the biggest problem.  There was always plenty at the main ranch on the river but the cattle were many miles from there at times and wells were few and those old mills that they had then were not what we have now.  Fred had to work on windmills and wells a lot and the help he had was not always good.  He was work on one when the pipes slipped and came down on his hand.  He had two fingers that were just dangling, so they rode into town and the doctor sewed them back on.  Then the doctor left town but not for good, but just for a while.  Well, this did hot turn out very good, and Fred's hand started to mortify.  They were afraid he might even lose his life.  It did not seem that there was anything that could be done.  But someone told him to go see a man by the name of Allen who was selling drugs in Burlington. This man had served in the army and had been in the hospital medical corps as an assistant.  He looked at Fred's hand and swore, and said "such a doctor." He removed he-fingers, did some cutting and stitching and the hand got well.

      Fred and I got married in 1907 and took a homestead 7 miles north of Bethune.  It was not easy to establish and keep a home then, but then it was much better than when my folks started.

      We worked hard and we finally did get a nice ranch for ourselves totaling 1,319 acres.  We raised four children and gave all a good education.  Fred always did all he could to help in the community in what ever way he could.  He suffered out the dry years like everyone else but hung on.  Age and health forced him to give up the farm and move to town in 1946 where he could take life easier.  He passed away in the spring of 1957.