View source for My Fifty Years in Des Plaines

<center>'''MY FIFTY YEARS IN DES PLAINES'''</center>
<center>by [[Dorothy K. Siede]]</center>


In the spring of 1920 the Edward Siede family moved from Chicago to Des Plaines. Our chicken farm was on former Jannusch property on east [[Miner Street]] at its junction with [[Northwest Highway]], the site of the present Tri-State Tollway. 

Miner Street was a two lane gravel road then, with a wooden bridge over the Des Plaines River. My sister [[Olga M. Siede|Olga]] and I held secretarial positions in Chicago's loop and oftentimes we caught the midnight C&NW train after dinner and theater. Our hurried footsteps as we crossed the bridge on our way home awakened the bull frogs. Their loud croaking never failed to frighten us. 

The average number of chickens on our farm was 1500, with 500 baby chicks arriving from hatcheries each spring. As the chicks grew, the cockerels always outnumbered the hens. When the males reached the proper size, many of them were shipped to the South Water St. market in Chicago. Then too, orders were occasionally received from the Des Plaines Methodst Camp for large dinners given there. I remember one Saturday when my mother and I reached home after one of her rare visits to Chicago, we found the back yard white with feathers. My Dad and sister Marie had "de feathered" 100 chickens! 

The vegetable end of the farm was my mother's special project. At harvest time beets and carrots were scrubbed clean and tied in bundles for the weekend stand. These, together with fresh tomatoes and sweet corn and, of course, freshly laid eggs, kept us three girls very busy handling sales. We enlisted the help of any of our friends who happened to be visiting us. For these Chicagoans this was truly an experience. 

My father often hitched our horse to the wagon and loaded with produce would drive to Jefferson Park, calling on customers he had established there. He also drove to the Camp Grounds; --- the housewives there would flock around his wagon. Before long the Camp storekeeper asked him to stay off the grounds. The result: the good ladies came outside the gate and made their purchases there. They knew fresh produce when they saw it. 

My sister, Marie, was married in 1923. Our neighbors, including the Hugo Dahms, [[Template:Ahbe tree|Fred Ahbes]], Henry Webers, [[Template:Poyer tree|Poyers]] and Grays "shivareed" [[Template:Siede tree|Marie]] and her fiance Joseph Migit. The couple was married at [[Christ Evangelical Church]] on Cora and Henry St. where the Rev. George Goebel was Pastor at the time. 

With a population of under 5,000 persons we found many families inter-related. It was quite confusing at first to keep them straight in our mind. But the social activities were really enjoyed by us. 

While still on the farm, our family bought its first radio. It took a great deal of patience to listen. There was a constant crackling sound but what joy when we could hear a voice distinctly and identify the station broadcasting. I recall my sister Olga staying up late one night listening to the radio and announcing the next morning the out-of-state contacts she had made! Later when radio was much improved, we as a family spent many happy hours listening to regular weekly programs such as Amos and Andy, Fibber McGee and Molly and others that became so popular. 

[[Dempster Street]] was extended to the [[Rand Road|Rand]] and Miner St. junction and in the relocation of Miner St. it was necessary to take off a slice from the front of our farm, a number of feet deep. I remember we had to take down and rebuild our front fence. 

In 1924 we moved to River St. At that time tall elms, maples, etc. formed a high arch across the street for its entire one-block length.  As in many are as the elms have now disappeared. 

My father was employed as vault custodian at the Des Plaines State Bank which moved from its original location on [[Ellinwood Street|Ellinwood St.]] between [[Pearson Street|Pearson]] and [[Center Street|Center]] Sts. to its new building at the corner of Lee and Ellinwood Sts. German speaking farmers liked talking with him, often asking his advice. On matters pertaining to bank business he would suggest the person or persons to contact.

Many of us will not easily forget the days of the Great Depression. The Des Plaines State Bank closed its doors, followed by threatened loss on investments by bondholders on numerous property in Des Plaines and elsewhere. It became quite commonplace to see a so-called owner of a building, accompanied by his attorney, call on individual bondholders offering them 50{{cents}} or even less on each dollar invested. My father in at least three or four instances joined a small group of men, and meeting with the bondholders urged them not to accept such offers but to band together and authorize a committee to keep their investments intact. A case in point is the LaMantia Building on Center St.. In each instance, I believe, at least dollar for dollar was in time paid to the bondholders. I feel that my father's chief concern was for the numerous elderly people involved, who would otherwise have suffered a severe loss in their investments and incomes. 

Upon the bank's closing, my father became a constable and worked closely with [[Albert L. Sengstock|Judge Sengstock]], Mr. [[Milton Tuttle]] and others. He enjoyed the work as he liked meeting and talking with people. Some of his experiences were humorous, others sad. One morning he started out early to deliver a summons to man on Chicago's north side. He was a known summons dodger. Dad saw the man come into view who in turn spied him sitting in the car. The man ducked back out of sight. Papa went to the rear door and asked the woman who answered the bell to call her husband. She replied that he was ill in bed. When she was requested to lead the way to the bedroom, she complied. In his haste, the man had pulled up the bed covers to the point where his shoes were exposed to view. He was duly handed the summons. 

In another instance his heart went out to a young family--the wife of an alcoholic, who had left her and their two children. They were being evicted. He found the 13-year old boy packing the family's worldly possessions into a large wooden crate. My father helped him nail down the lid and arranged for the crate's transportation. 

I have seen Des Plaines grow from a town of fewer than 5,000 to a city of 60,000. I have watched its borders spread, especially to the south. While there were a number of churches in Des Plaines in 1920 there are many more now and most of the original churches have built anew to keep up with the times as well as the growing population. The school system has also expanded considerably both on the elementary and high school level. And now we have the junior college. 

In our early years in Des Plaines we often rode in what we laughingly called "Abraham Lincoln" coaches with stove heat and gas light. It was most hazardous to attempt to walk from coach to coach, crossing open platforms, when the train was in motion. Then came the more comfortable coaches with green plush seats, electric lights, steam heat and safety features on the still open platforms. Lastly, the new double-decker coach, diesel-driven trains of today made their appearance. 

It has been good living in Des Plaines these past 50 years! Now with large condominiums and apartment buildings springing up around us, it is with nostalgia we see "old" Des Plaines fast disappearing. 

My sister Olga, father and mother--in that order--have passed away. I myself might have written the book "Live Alone and Like It." With travel and painting taking up a good deal of my time, and with many very good friends here, I feel that Des Plaines is still a good place in which to live. 

I close with fond memories of the past and with faith and hope for the future. 
[[Category:Family histories]]