My father was William “Paul” Adelbert Groves. He parents were William Adelbert Groves and Cassie Becky (Welty) Groves. He was born in Olney, Illinois in 1893. His siblings were Claude, Russell, Grace and Lulu. His parents lived in both Iowa and Minnesota before moving to South Dakota. For a time they owned a restaurant in Iowa, but a job with the railroad brought the family to Freeman, South Dakota and that’s where they settled. Their home was on the west edge of Freeman just a few blocks from where I grew up, but my grandparents died before I was born so I never knew them.
My father met my mother at a young people’s gathering in Freeman and that’s how they got together.
Early in the years of World War I my father was drafted and spent his army years in France. He was wounded by shrapnel in one leg and spent some time in a hospital before he was honorably discharged. Soon after his return, he and my mother were married in 1918. They moved a chicken house into town, remodeled it and made it their home.
My father was employed by the city of Freeman as a night watchman on the police force. He held that job until 1942 when his eyesight was failing due to cataracts. It was then that the family made the decision to move to my uncle’s poultry farm outside of town.
My father had taken some classes on animal husbandry at a local college, so was prepared for caring for the farm animals. By that time we were a family of eight children so there were plenty of hands to help with the chores.
For the most part my father was a gentle family man. He loved to gather the family in the parlor for a time of singing accompanied by my sister Doris at the piano and he on the violin. My father was quite musical and played not only the violin but also the harmonica and sang. My siblings all caught on to these musical traits from the many evenings in the parlor playing and singing. Those were special times for me.
He had surgery to remove his clouded lenses in his eyes. At that time that’s all they did for cataracts. After his eyes were healed, he wore glasses with heavy lenses to allow him to see. He often misjudged doorways and bumped his head due to his poor eyesight. I spent a lot of time following him around trying to warn him about doorways and places where he would bump his head.
In October of 1950, while he was shelling corn with one of my brothers, he suffered a heart attack and after a short time died. I was only 13 and this was a very a sad time for me. Our black German Shepherd “Nigger” or “Nig” crawled under the porch and howled and cried for days. My brother Lowell had to crawl under the porch to give him water and food. When the undertaker came to pick up dad, Nig bit him in the leg. Some time after my father passed, mother and I moved back to the house in town. All of the older siblings were already gone from the home.
My mother was Mary Stucky and was born in 1895 to Jacob Stucky and Annie (Pankratz) Stucky. They migrated to American from Poland or Ukraine and were farmers in rural Marion, South Dakota. Her father had been married before and his new wife (Annie) was my mother’s mother. She had two half-sisters from her father’s first marriage and was the oldest of six siblings. My mother’s father died when she was only 13 and she was left to help take care of the children. She had to quit school and go to work for various families in order to make a little money to support the remaining family. Her siblings were Henry, Joe, Pete, Emma and Frances.
My mother was always a very hard worker. After her teen years of taking care of her siblings, she was well prepared for taking care of her own eight children. She was a gentle and loving mother and a role model for me. Sewing, gardening, cleaning and cooking were tasks she carried out without complaint and did so well.
Once all of her children were grown adults and gone from home, mother chose to move to Newton, Kansas and be close to family who had settled there. In 1957 she sold what she didn’t need and moved into a cottage behind my brother Carlyle’s house. I also moved to Newton later that year.
In 1964 she moved to the Koppes house in North Newton, only blocks away from our new home on 22nd Street. My girls loved spending time with her while they were growing up. She moved in with us in our home for a time before moving to the Bethel Home for the Aged after she could no longer care for herself. She died in 1971 at the age of 76.
