On Saturday I stopped by to visit my grandfather’s niece who has an apartment a block or two away from the church where my parents married. Her name is Delores.
Earlier, before I left the house where I am staying, my host, Mike, knocked on the guest room and asked if I wanted to tour a dairy operation up north.
I had already told Delores that I’d be stopping by and with only five minutes to get ready, I passed.
Eventually I got on my way, biking downtown from the house, in the northwest quarter of town.
I introduced myself to Delores, who is the same age as my grandmother. Both were born in 1927. Unfortunately, she didn’t have many photographs or history to share, as she downsized when moving in to her current apartment from a house.
She did, however, share a remarkable story.
It was 1932. She was a young girl. Her grandfather, my great grandfather, was ill. Delores remembers boarding the train in Watertown with her mother, Augusta Fromke Bunde, to visit the grandparents, Albert Fromke and Augusta Lentz, in Grover. Augusta, Delores’ mother, had come to help her mother, Augusta Lentz.
Our visit was brief, and I was soon on my way again.
I then ran into Mike at the grocery store downtown, where we chatted a little. We got to talking about the dairy farm. During the visit, he asked the dairy man, whose surname is Goens, “Do you know a Delores Goens?”
“Yes, she’s my mother.”
Then I became the subject of conversation.
“Yes, she called to say some strange man had called and planned on stopping by. She has no idea who he is,” the man explained.
Mike then talked about his house guest, and the puzzle was complete.
So while my relatives from my dad’s side of the family were touring a dairy outfit owned by some of my mother’s relatives I was visiting the dairy farm owner’s mother.
ajh