Memories of my Grandma Hixson
(Margaret Elizabeth Ranck Hixson)
Written by Elizabeth B. Hixson Frost, Fullerton, California
(Re-typed for digitizing by Richard S. Hixson, April 2006.)
Note: *See also the book Rank of the Rancks, by J. Alan Ranck.
My Grandma Hixson was born Margaret Elizabeth Ranck*, oldest daughter of Peter Ranck, Jr. and Ann Lemon Ranck. She was born in Salisbury, Lancaster County, Pennsylvania on the 4th of September 1843.
Her parents joined the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints in 1845 and moved to Nauvoo, Illinois to be with the saints. They were there only a short time until the mobs came and drove them out. They crossed over into Iowa where Grandpa Ranck was called to be presiding Elder. He built homes and planted garden and raised chickens, pigs and such so that the oncoming companies of saints would have a place to prepare to go on to the Salt Lake Valley.
They also stayed at Winter Quarters, Nebraska helping the saints. There, in 1846, they lost two children, William and Catherine. The Church has erected a monument with the names of all who perished there and William and Catherine are included.
In 1852 they went on to Salt Lake City and settled on forty acres in East Mill Creek. There they raised their family. Grandpa Ranck was a very good carpenter and did this for a living. My son, Kay Don, has a chest that he made. Grandma Ranck helped in every way she could. She delivered about 500 babies, acting as a midwife.
Margaret Elizabeth met James Monroe Hixson at a dance. He had left his home in Indiana and caught rides with people going to the gold fields in California and Oregon. He stopped in Salt Lake to work a bit before going on. He met Grandma, joined the Church, and stayed. They were married in 1862. They bought forty acres of farmland near Wanship from the railroad for $7 an acre. Here they raised their ten children. This is also where I was raised since my father took over the farm in 1919. Grandpa Hixson died in 1902, before I was born, so I did not get to know him.
Grandma told me a cute story about her and Grandpa Hixson. Grandpa built a log cabin on the forty acres of land they had purchased. Their first children were twins: a boy named after his father, James Monroe, and a girl named after her mother, Margaret Elizabeth. Grandma had gone back to East Mill Creek to be with her mother when the children were born and when she went home to Wanship her sister, Sarah, went with her. Grandpa had a sawmill and would saw out enough lumber to make a wagon load and then take it to Salt Lake to sell. He might stay a day or two if he found a little work. He was on one of these trips and had stayed longer than usual. Grandma became very worried so she took one baby and Sarah took the other and they started for Salt Lake. It was not an easy undertaking since Salt Lake was forty miles away on the other side of a mountain range, but she was sure he had had an accident as was hurt and unable to get home. Fortunately, they had only gone about a mile when they met Grandpa coming home. She felt so embarrassed and would chuckle when she told the story.
On the farm there was a stream of water running out of what was called “Hixson Canyon”. Grandpa later built a new log cabin at the mouth of this canyon, about a quarter mile south of the first cabin. One time, while Grandma had gone to Salt Lake to visit, Grandpa added three rooms on the front of the cabin. The cabin had a stairway to an attic, which was used for bedrooms. When Grandma returned she was so surprised and so grateful. In this home they raised their ten children.
In 1900 Grandpa had become too ill to run the farm. Grandma had inherited some money from her father’s estate so they turned over the farm to two of their sons, Frank and Mark, and bought a house in Wanship where she lived for the rest of her life.
My father, Karl Burdette Hixson, her youngest son, later bought a small house from Aunt Eassy King, which was on the lot next door to Grandma. There was no fence between the houses. Aunt Eassy took only her clothes when she left so we had all her dishes and furniture. (I still have a few of her dishes.) My father used the barn on the back of Grandma’s lot. We had two cows. One was named “Vick”, but I can’t remember the name of the other. We also had two Horses, named “Bess” and “Lade”. We had pigs and chickens and Dad raised a large garden on the back of our lot. It was fun living close to Grandma. I learned so much from just watching her. I always think of Grandmother Hixson as a fast-moving, hard-working woman although she would have been in her seventies when I first remember her. Her youngest daughter, Hazel Jane, lived with her, so, in the summer, Aunt Hazel did most of the inside; every-day work and Grandma raised a garden.
As you came out of the kitchen on the back of Grandma’s house there was a large porch, which ran the full width of the house. At the south end of the porch was a lift-up door that covered a stairway down to a nice sized cellar. It was full of canned fruit most of the time. As you stepped off the porch there was a large water pump. That is where we got the water for both houses. There was also a summerhouse: a large room with a small coal stove in the center. This was used in the summer so that the main house could be kept cool. Grandma did her washing, ironing, cooking, and canning there. She also made her own laundry soap and stored it there. The summerhouse always smelled so good.
There was a walkway that went from the house to the barn. Each spring my father would plow up the land on each side of that walkway and get it ready for planting. Grandma would plant potatoes, corn, string beans, and peas on the north side, and on the south side (kind of between the two houses) was a long row of raspberries. How I loved sitting out there, picking and eating. The south side is where she also planted things like radishes, onions, beets, turnips, lettuce, and …oh yes, cabbage.
She canned some of what she grew and then always bought a lot of fruit from Salt Lake, which she canned. Since there was no way to get fresh fruit and vegetables in the winter, we relied on Grandma’s canned food. Hundreds of pint, quart and two-quart jars filled the shelves in the cellar. She would also have wooden boxes full of sand in which she would put carrots, beets, and turnips. They would keep for several months this way.
Her sons who lived on nearby farms would always bring her meat from the animals they raised and slaughtered. She had large barrels in the cellar filled with homemade brine, and she would put the hams and bacon from the pigs in this brine until they were cured. Then she would take them out of the brine and put them in white flour sacks and hang them in the summerhouse. By using this process we had ham and bacon all summer long and into the winter. She used the same process to cure beef and make chip beef.
Grandma always made something she called “paunhaus”. I’m not sure of the spelling, but I always thought it to be a Pennsylvania Dutch dish. It was made by putting the jowls of the pig along with the heart and liver in a large kettle. The kettle was filled with enough water to cover the meat and then it was boiled until it became tender. The meat was then removed and ground up quite fine. The ground meat was put back into the kettle, into rich broth, which had been created by the boiling. She added enough water to make what experience told her would be the right consistency and then added spices like salt, pepper and sage. This mixture was brought to a boil. At this point corn meal or germade was added. While stirring constantly, the mixture was boiled until it became so thick you could hardly stir it and your arms began to ache. It was then put in pans. When it cooled it was sliced and fried. It was eaten mostly for breakfast and was delicious. Yum, yum!
Another favorite dish from Grandma’s kitchen was hominy. I don’t remember seeing her make it, but I’ve eaten my share and loved every kernel. She had a special knack for cooking navy beans and ham and also cabbage and ham. Even after all these years I can almost taste that special flavor.
She had a large crab apple tree on her front lawn. She made pickled, whole crab apples. Oh, so good!
She was a wonderful bread maker, saving a start of yeast each time she baked so she would have it for the next time. The wheat for the bread was raised on the farm and was taken to the gristmill, which was about a mile away to be ground into flour.
She knew how to make sauerkraut and taught my father, so each fall we would bring a large barrel into the kitchen and scour it well. We then began cutting the outer leaves from the heads of cabbage. The heads were then cut in half and each half was split again. The heart was removed and tossed into the barrel. My father had made a “kraut cutter”. It had three large blades fastened to a three or four foot handle. Dad would stand and chop the heads of cabbage, letting the strips fall into the barrel. Every once in a while he would add a pinch of salt. The process continued until the barrel was full. He then placed a large plate on top of the cabbage with a weight, like a flat iron, on the plate. The barrel was covered with a clean, white cloth and placed in a cool place in the house. After some time, brine formed and cured the cabbage and, presto, you had kraut. We liked to eat it raw or cooked with ham. I liked it raw because we had so few raw vegetables during the winter.
We always had Thanksgiving dinner at Grandma’s house. After our family had moved from Wanship to the farm, the trip became most memorable. It all comes back to me when I hear the song, “Over the river and through the woods to Grandmother’s house we go. The horse knows the way to carry the sleigh through the white and drifted snow…” That describes us because we always went in a sleigh box. Straw was put in the bottom and then the big quilts made from old overalls and wool suits were put over the straw. Then we would cover up with more quilts. The snow would be deep and the air crispy cold. The sleigh bells would ring loud and clear and after a mile-and-a-half ride we would rush into Grandma’s cozy, warm and sweet-smelling home. A feast fit for a king would be served. Her yummy pies were so special along with her homemade pickles and, of course, turkey and all the trimmings. Each time I see a commercial on television with a sleigh and beautiful horses I think of those wonder trips to Grandma’s house for Thanksgiving.
Grandma loved flowers and grew whatever she could in that cold country. We lived about a mile above sea level so the growing season was short. I remember an apple tree growing in the lawn. She made wonderful apple butter. Around this tree was a flower garden where larkspurs, pansies, and yellow buttercups grew. I loved the tiny buttercups, which came up each spring. I watched for them. Grandma loved geraniums but they would not live through out the cold and snow so she would dig them up and take them inside for the winter. She always planted sweet peas and had that wonderful scent in her home as long as they bloomed. She also had a large clump of marigolds on the north side of the house. To me they grew very tall but I suppose they were only four or five feet high. Such a wonderful color they gave.
My grandmother seemed able to do most everything. She painted and papered her home. She made rugs. Every piece of worn clothing was cut into strips and sewn together. From these she would either braid or crochet rugs. Sometimes she rolled the rags into balls. When se had enough she took them to a lady who owned a loom. The rags would be woven into a long strip about thirty inches wide. Grandma would measure the room cut the strips, and sew them together with heavy cord until she had a rug large enough to cover the floor. Since there were no rug mats, she would put down several layers of newspaper or a layer of straw and then tack the rug down all the way around the room, stretching it as much as she could. It gave a wonderful, clean, cozy feeling to a room.
She had one room in her home which she called her “parlor’. It had such wonderful, beautiful things in it—beautiful handwork and “treasures”. We children only went in the parlor on special occasions.
She had another large room at the front of the house. That is where they really lived. She had a sewing machine in there and large chairs and a table for company dinners. Between that room and the kitchen was a pantry. It also served as a passageway into the kitchen. It always smelled good because of the food stored there, and there was always a bucket of water in the pantry.
The kitchen was a large room and in the southeast corner stood a coal stove or range as we called them. It had an oven and a reservoir where water was heated. There was a window on the south wall. Grandma would sit by the window to knit or crochet with the oven door down to keep toasty warm. She made all the men and boys on the farm woolen socks. They were made in such a way that when the foot part wore out she could remove it and knit a new one on again. She made many pairs of socks for the soldier boys.
In that same south window she kept lovely houseplants. After I was grown she told me why she had feathers tied to those plants. She said if they weren’t there I would pick the leaves off the plants. Feathers must have frightened me.
She was “grandma” to everyone in town. I often took exception to my friends calling her “Grandma”. I didn’t then realize what a loving term of endearment that was for them. Grandma had a habit of only working in her garden until noon. Then she went in, got all cleaned up, and was ready for company to call. Her home was open house to all and she enjoyed the people who visited her. She made quilts and she would sit and sew blocks by hand and visit.
She always wore long dresses, very much like pioneer women, usually made of a dark print in navy blue, brown or gray. They come to her ankles. She always had a small pocket on the left side of the bodice. She had a beautiful gold watch on a long chain, which she kept in that pocket. I can still see her taking the watch out, opening the lid, and looking at the time. She always put on a clean white apron edged with hand-crocheted lace. Most often they were made from bleached flour sacks. She wore size four shoes. She always parted her hair in the center of her head. She had curling irons, which she heated in a coal oil lamp. She would twist her hair around the iron to curl her hair close to her head and then comb it around the back of her head in a bob.
She kept a medicine cabinet full of the remedies of the day and was called on often since the doctor was ten miles away and the only transportation was horse and buggy. She delivered or helped the doctor deliver almost all the babies born in Wanship. Down in the pasture at the farm were some willows growing. She called them “kinnykniks” and tag alders”. She made medicine from these. I’m not sure how they were used. Each spring she made a tea from the sagebrush growing on the hill by the house. She insisted we all drink this tea. She said it would clean your blood.
When we lived next door to her I loved running over to Grandma’s and cuddling up close to her. She would put her arm around me and lovingly tug at my ear lobe. This was soothing to me, but only when she did it. I sensed her love for me. She did so many wonderful things to make me know this.
She was always very “lady-like”, as she called it, and wanted me to act the same way and never tomboyish. She was always explaining the value of good manners.
She thought it almost a sin to get a suntan. If our dresses had short sleeves she would encourage us to pull stocking legs up over our arms so they would stay white. She made us sun bonnets. She always wore a bonnet type of hat when she was outside.
When she was in her late eighties she had a stroke. She was a fighter and she was soon well enough to take care of herself but not much else. Still, she would ask her friends and neighbors to let her darn their socks. That way she had some visitors when they brought them and when they came to get them. She did not like to be idle.
My grandmother was a wonderful mother to her ten children and her forty-two grandchildren, whom she lived to see and know.
She lived to the age of ninety-three, dying in 1936, after having another stroke. She was greatly missed by all who knew her. She had been Relief Society President for twenty-five years and had helped, in some way, almost everyone she knew. She often bore her testimony that God lives, Jesus is the Christ, and the Church is led by a Prophet, Seer, and Revelator.
She was a link to the past and refuge to the future. I sorely miss her. Growing up close to my grandmother was such a blessing in my life. I love her dearly.
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