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By Beth Wiens Friese
The most outstanding characteristic about Dad in my mind is authenticity. He was what he was, nothing more and nothing less. To me, he represented strength and weakness; silliness and seriousness; affection and abrasion; sensitivity and insensitivity. Really there wasn't very much middle road about him. He was one or the other - definitely not a bland personality.
He would be quite disgusted with us if we made him out to be some perfect saint. I don't think anyone was more aware of his imperfections than he was, yet he espoused confidence, determination and a desire to excel or at least to beat the odds! In my eyes he stood for family, integrity, honesty, commitment and a desire to obey God in all things. Let me illustrate how I remember these traits being demonstrated in his life.
STRENGTH: When something needed to be done and no one else wanted to shoulder the responsibility, he would do it if he felt it was important. Examples of this: he canvassed communities around us in winter on skis getting people's signatures saying they would support the coming of electricity.
Butchering every week for the beef ring seems like another example too. Also I remember him having to hike to and from Saskatoon (about 150 miles) to get parts for some farm equipment.
Then there was the time a singing group needed to be taken somewhere on an outreach for the church. The day this was to happen, the weather and roads turned bad and no one
wanted to drive and so they were going to cancel the whole thing, but Dad said "No Way!" and he drove them. When it came to bad roads he was never timid in his approach. His philosophy was 'consider your options, make a decision and go for it!' Things might get bumpy but we'll probably make it through somehow! It seems to me that was how he lived his life too.
He seemed very strong to me one day when he found me literally screaming till I was blue in the face and hanging my head between two boards in a boarded up window of Chester's house, unable to help myself. He yelled at Herb to run for a hammer or something, but he didn't wait for it to get there. Instead he tore off a board with his bare hands. It was a pretty impressive performance as far as I was concerned. If I would have known then what I know now I might have called him "Arnold Schwarznagger"!
Another strength he had was the ability to focus and concentrate on something blocking out all other distractions. I remember Mom discussing with us what we should order for him for Christmas while he was in the same room reading a book. He never lifted his head to acknowledge anyone and he hadn't heard a thing about us ordering his presents.
WEAKNESS: At times he would become discouraged and worried about things and be tempted to give up. He was sometimes absentminded and would buy groceries, pay for time, leave them on the store counter and come home without them. He sometimes also seemed to discipline out of impatience rather than patience. This kind of discipline could come in the form of a swift cuff over the ears.
SILLINESS: He loved to tickle us and give us whisker rubs and make us laugh until Mother thought we were going to suffocate to death as so did we!
I remember driving home from visiting someone one Sunday afternoon. Shortly before this, big round ditches were dug along the main road in order to weather proof them. Dad was feeling his 'cheerios' and began to give us all a roller coaster ride by zooming into the ditch on side, back up the road only to go into the ditch on the other side. We were all squealing excitedly while Mother beat Dad on the head with her purse pleading for him to grab hold of his senses. So much for our Disneyland experience!
SERIOUSNESS: He was very often serious about a whole lot of things. When he read the Bible to us and we prayed, we were ALL ALWAYS serious. He had many things to be serious about when it came to running the farm and providing a living.
Sometimes I remember when it was my chore to clear the table after diner. Dad would be sitting at the table deep in thought leaning his head on his hands, just sitting there thinking. I remember this because I always had to walk around him on that side of the table.
One time in particular stands out in my memory because he thoroughly surprised me when he shyly asked me if I was mad at him. I thought he was deep in thought and not even aware of me! And I hadn't realized he was aware of such things when he had so many other important things to try to figure out.
AFFECTIONATE: He loved children and so, of course, children loved him. He loved to hug us and I remember after saying our evening prayers (that was John, Vic, George and me) and the last 'amen' was said we all sprang up like wild little tigers to the be the first one to hug him good night and get our hug and whisker rub.
I remember one other day when we were coming home from school on a very cold late fall day in our horse drawn
wagon. We found Dad walking home probably from one of the fields, so we picked him up and because he felt sorry for Vi and me, he opened his big jacket wide and let us snuggle in and get warmed up while he wrapped the coat and his arms around us.
ABRASIVE: To me it seemed that he was never afraid to tell it like it was. I don't remember too many specifics but I remember being told that one time he led a prayer session in church and no one participated, so he finally just said in so many words that if no one had anything to pray about they could pray for him and they he sat down.
INSENSITIVITY: I remember thinking he was insensitive one time when he made some unkind remark to my sisters about how ridiculous he thought my hair looked or other times when he would call my brothers a blockhead if they didn't understand right away what he was asking for when he wanted them to hand him something.
SENSITIVITY: I think I was barely five years old when I had a scary nightmare. I was too afraid to get back to sleep, so I quietly went downstairs to my parents bedside and told Dad that a 'krieg' was going to get me. (I thought a 'krieg' was a monster. Louise Krahn had told us a story in Sunday school about some 'krieg'). Dad turned over and took my little hands into his big hard strong ones and prayed for me that I wouldn't be afraid of a 'krieg' and that I could go back to sleep. I went back to bed and fell asleep immediately.
I think, though, that I must have made too many other trips like this, looking for that special touch from my big daddy, that he got tired of being bothered at night. After coming and telling one night, that I couldn't breath through my nose or mouth because of a bad cold, he was kind to me but in the morning, I overheard him tell someone that next
time he would ram a stick down my throat to open it up so that I would be able to breath. I don't think I ventured down to his bedside at night ever again. I kind of got the hint!
I think of Dad as something of a romantic for the simple reason that he went ahead and brought something like 300 sheep so that he could learn something about what it felt like to be a shepherd, since there were so many references in the Bible to Jesus being our shepherd.
Another thing I remember about Dad is that he was fairly social, more on a one to one basis than in a group. He loved to visit with friends and neighbors, whether they were Christian or non-Christian. He was an inventor and seemed very resourceful in solving mechanical problems around the farm. It was like he was never completely stumped for he could always think of something!
One other thing that stood out about him was his eyes. They were deep set with big bushy eyebrows and very expressive. They were either twinkling merrily or flashing snapping and crackling with anger. They would have a cold steely blue look that pierced right through you like daggers. I could never stand up to that look, it alienated me every time but I never got tired of his eyes when they smiled at you and told you that you were okay.
Dad wasn't exactly one of the 10 best dressed men of the year, but he was not sloppy about his appearances either. I have found memories of watching him apply shaving lotion to his whiskers with his little shaving lotion brush. Of course, I never knew when all of a sudden his hand would leave its usual pathway to his face and suddenly be smothering my face with the lotion instead.
I remember him always wearing either a black or a grey suit and white shirt and tie to church with black polished
shoes and a grey hat with a black ribbon around it to church. I thought he was as handsome as any other Glenbush farmer.
At home he almost wore baggy dark navy jeans with a matching jean jacket, car coat length with a heavy black (I think) sweater under it in the winter.
It's funny but I don't remember what a single one of his shirts looked like. But I thought my Dad was the most handsome one Sunday afternoon just shortly after he surprised us all by coming home with about 11 pairs of skates - at least there were a bunch of them. Anyway, it was a Sunday afternoon, early winter or late fall. The slough had frozen over perfectly made for skating and we all headed out to try out our skates, except for Mom and the little girls. The first one out and already with his skates on was Dad. I remember looking up and seeing him gliding effortlessly back and forth in smooth long strides, not only going forwards but backwards too! I have never seen him so beautiful and youthful in my life and I was never as enchanted with him as I was at that moment.
Elizabeth was the 6th girl born to Peter and Maria on March 26, 1945. She and her husband, Ernie Friesen are currently residing in Woodinville, Washington where she is a real estate agent and he is currently working with computer programming. They are the parents of three children - 2 sons, Jason and Trevor, 1 daughter, Erin and the grandparents of 1 boy and 1 girl.
By John Wiens
I remember sitting on his knees and he would play Hup-hup-parata with us and just like my children, Michaela and Peter, my younger brothers and sisters would fight to have more than their share of turns.
Often on Sunday afternoons, Dad and us youngest six would walk around and he would sing with us.
On Sunday afternoons in the winter, he would be out there with us playing soccer.
In winter, I remember John Isaac and Dad sitting and talking together in the Russian language and I thought how funny it sounded. They would also sit and discuss the Holy Scriptures, which has left a positive impression on me.
One time in church when he was leading the children's singing before Sunday school, he asked for a song, so I said "Come over". The other kids laughed and said that wasn't a song but Dad assured them it was and to this day I think he made it up and prevented me from being embarrassed. I still remember the song today.
I think he was a bit of a perfectionist because he couldn't stand grades in school that weren't at least B's. I would receive a royal bum wrap if my report card didn't have any A's or B's.
Dad was definitely a Jack of all Trades. He could tune an engine better than the town mechanic just by listening to a motor. He did the plumbing in our house, the electric wiring, delivering of animals even though he only had a grade ten education.
He was very good at telling stories. He would gather us together for devotions and teach us song after song as well as the Biblical principles - not just the stories. He was very interested in our Christian upbringing.
I think that probably is enough from John the fourth son of Peter Wiens.
John was the 4th of 6 sons born on May 17, 1946. He is married to Marjorie Gorman and currently resides in Vernon, B. C. He and Marjorie have two children, Michaela - a university student and Peter. John has utilized his love of other languages by traveling to Russia with a mission to work in places such as orphanages and also visited with all the relatives that reside in Russia.
By Naomi Wiens Kapplehoff
I was only ten years old when I lost Dad and these are my memories of him. He and Mom were always in agreement with each other on what we could or could not do. He seemed to know just how we operated. If we wanted to go do some special activity or go somewhere, we'd first go to Mom. If her answer was 'no', we'd go to Dad to see if he would agree with our request. Instead he'd always say 'what did your mother say?' and that was that. He never once to my knowledge went contrary to her decision.
He was compassionate and even merciful. One time I ran (accidentally mind you) into my sister who happened to have a bowl full of very hot water straight off the stove for the purpose of washing dishes. She dumped the water on me which burned my right shoulder. He was the one who took care of the burn.
One year when I was between 7 and 9 I got the mumps just before Christmas. Dad must have suspected it because he had me stay home from school and would you believe it, they were there the next day.
I can still see him in church. One Sunday night on what I guess would be a Christian Endeavor night; he was leading the prayer time and asked if anyone had anything they wanted prayed for. There seemed to be a long silence and I will never forget what he said. "If you have no one to pray for, pray for me".
I loved my Dad as much as any little kid could but I certainly didn't like his discipline. There was a system in church that we all became acquainted with at one time or another to correct behavior problems. In those days, the
children sat in the front pews with the women on one side and the men on the other. If we misbehaved (which I did from time to time) we had to sit with mother for a certain period of time.
If that did nothing to mend our little moral consciences, it was Dad we had to sit with and believe me, anything could happen there. There were only one or two times that I can remember that that ever happened. I must have gone to extremes one Sunday sitting next to him because the next thing I remember was being taken out for a spanking and than had to sit in the car for the rest of the services to think about it. What he didn't know was that we would instead spend our time wandering around in the cemetery behind the church. That place fascinated us as kids.
He had a real love for God. This was evident each morning. After breakfast while we were still around the table, he would bring out his Sunday school quarterly and read the morning portion in the German language even though we never understood what he was reading.
His standards especially when it came to school were high. I recall receiving discipline from him because I came home with an "F" on my report card each time in penmanship. Eventually by the time I hit the 8th grade, the teacher raised it to a D.
Now that I am older, I can see that he taught us to take the consequences for our own mistakes. A little red wagon comes to mind when I think about this. It was my job along with Melita and Blondina to bring in enough wood from the woodpile to fill the wood box standing beside the wood stove. The woodpile was in another part of the yard and to get there, you had to climb over a barb wire fence or go through a gate. This wagon was especially useful in getting to the house faster - at least it was faster than carrying it in
by the armful. One day we left the wagon in front of the garage. Dad came home with a truck he had borrowed and backed the truck into the garage but in the process he backed right over the wagon. From that time on until we got an electric stove, all the wood had to be carried in by hand. Nice way to learn responsibility!
I don't suppose I will ever forget the day he died. After we younger ones had gone to bed, I heard Ed come in by himself. Mom asked him when Dad was coming and he was the one to tell her that he wouldn't be coming home again because he had been killed in an accident. I wondered what would become of us kids. After I had fallen asleep, Dad came into my dream and told me that everything would be okay.
Perhaps what I missed the most about Dad was school activities such as the annual sports day. He always made it a point to be there. We were given a certain amount of money that we could spend on things such as cracker jacks, ice cream etc. Just before one sports day, I heard girl after girl my age say 'my dad's going to be there' over and over again. That hurt me more than anything else even if I wasn't very athletic because all of a sudden it struck me for perhaps the first time that I was the only girl in the group without a father. It would have been nice to have a father guide me through the rough teenage years.
When I got married, it was sad that he wasn't there to walk me up the aisle. It would have been nice to have my father give me away from at my wedding. We missed out on so many things when he died. That day altered our lives forever in more ways that we can account for.
If I could have just one conversation with him, I'd want to know why he had to leave us so soon and I 'd want him to be proud of who I've become today and introduce him to my
children and say "THIS IS YOUR GRANDPA!" I would finally freely be able to tell him "I love you Dad!" Just as he told me in my dream so many years ago, things really did turn out okay.
Naomi was the 6th daughter and the oldest of the three youngest girls. She is married to an American, Phillip Kapplehoff and resides in Mountlake Terrace, Washington. They have three children - two girls, Kendra and Nadine and 1 son, Rhome. They are also nana-san and papa-san to two grandchildren - 1 boy and a girl. Naomi is currently employed as a shipping clerk while Phil is a custodian engineer in the Seattle School District.
This project could never been done without the participation of so many people who helped in one way or another. Special thanks go to our cousins, Mary Pauls who proved to be a real fountain of information and to Marie Enns Penner as well as to my mother, Maria Martens for the information they gave in assisting with this vast project.
A extra special thanks goes to all my Wiens siblings who were so willing to share of their long ago yesteryear memories with those of us who have few or next to no memories so that we can better understand where we have come from and from there be able to direct our futures.
Thank you Phillip for putting up with all the research and the computer entries that needed to be done as well as being a sounding board from time to time during the past few months.
More information was also gleaned from correspondence with our Aunt Njessa Schmidt in Russia who helped to clear up some points regarding dates and other facts.
Many special thanks go to my brother, Ed, who translated some German letters that Dad had written to Mom in their courting years.
Cairns, Earle E. Christianity Through the Centuries. Grand Rapids, Mich. Zondervan Publishing House. 1954.
Dober, Dusko., National Geographic. "The Bolshevik Revolution" October 1992.
Dyck, Cornelius J. An Introduction to Mennonite History. Herald Press. 1967.
Encyclopedia Americana. Danbury, Conn. Grolier, Inc. Volumes 18 and 24. 1989.
___________. Ufa: The Mennonite Settlement. 1977
___________. The Gerhard G. Derksen Family Book. Altona, Manitoba: Friesen Printers. 1984.
___________. The Trails of Promise. Altona, Manitoba: Friesen Printers. 1984
___________. The church records of the Glenbush M. B. church. Glenbush, Saskatchewan.
Flags courtesty of www.Theodora.com. Flags used with the permission of Theodora.com
Schreckengast, Rachael Sandfordyln. History of Engagement Rings.www.wedfrugal.com
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