4-H

4-H is an organization chiefly for rural youth, founded in the early 20th century. Original emphasis was on farm activities for girls and boys. In the 1950s, 60s and 70s 4-H clubs dotted rural South Dakota, and most small towns had a club or two also. The goal of the clubs was youth development. To that end, everything was hands-on. One could compete in sewing, cooking, canning, art, science, citizenship, livestock, crops, carpentry, demonstrations, public speaking and more.

There were monthly meetings with an adult leader. Our club name was Holden Livestock 4-H Club, and we met monthly in the evening in Holden Hall. The hall was one storey, and one of the smaller township halls. (See the story on "Township Halls".) It did have a heating stove, a cooking stove, and several tables with chairs. When we met in the winter, someone had to get there early in the afternoon to fire up the oil stove so we didn’t freeze to death. Still, we frequently started  those winter meetings in coats and gloves until the building warmed up.

The Hand County 4-H Clubs Achievement Days in Miller were an annual event, and the culmination of our 4-H efforts. Every club in the county brought their exhibits to Miller. When Kay, Jimmy and I first started, the events were held in various parts of Miller. The livestock  competitions took place at the sale barn. The rest happened in the city auditorium. Sometime in the late 60s the county 4-H organization purchased some land south of Miller, put up three or four quonset buildings, and added a show ring.

Entries in every category were judged against one another, and ribbons awarded. Purple was best, and granted the exhibitor the right to show at the South Dakota State Fair in Huron. That was a Really Big Deal! Blue ribbons were next, followed by red. White brought up the rear.

Prior to Achievement Days, our 4-H club held The Tour. On that day the members and their families met at one home to begin. We then drove from place to place to see one another’s exhibits. Chiefly, that meant livestock.

I thought it was very exciting! I wanted Dad to drive fast so we could beat everybody to the next house. (He wouldn't.) I remember driving down the road, seeing the dust of several cars before and behind us. It felt like a parade to me! (Remember, traffic on the gravel road going past the Heinzerling place might be 3-4 cars per day.)

I remember hot, sunny mid-August days; talking with friends; urging Dad to go faster; seeing combines and trucks in wheat fields; hoping people will think my calf is as good as I think it is; hoping it will behave decently; eager to show off; watching the dust rising around each car.

My 4-H calf, 1969

When we arrived at a farm we parked near the barn, a herd of cars in the farm yard. The members who lived there had left the previously place early so they could have their animals ready. They led out their calves, who had probably not seen so many strange people before, and all walking toward them. We kids kept some distance, knowing that the closer we got, the more skittish their calf would become. The calves were always skittish, sidling around, rolling their eyes, trying to watch everyone, getting nervous when someone went around behind them. All the while, the member with her hands on the lead rope was trying to get the calf to stand still and pose properly to be shown to its best advantage.

When the tour was completed, the last stop was also the picnic. The family there provided a place for us all to gather and celebrate another year of 4-H almost completed. The picnic was potluck, and always included watermelons.

We raised sheep at the farm at that time, and, since we could start with 4-H when we were 8 years old, sheep was the first thing we showed. 800 pound calves were too big. Sheep weren’t as much fun as calves, or as prestigious, at least to me. I thought it was much cooler to show calves, more Big Kid. One must hunch over the sheep, holding it by the stub of tail and under the chin. I didn’t like it, though the lambs were woolly and fluffy.

The calves that we showed were a year old in the spring. They were the ones that had been weaned in the fall and fed through the winter. (See “Feeding Calves in the Winter.”) At first we bought them from neighbors, but later used the ones we raised ourselves.

Hereford Cow

The part I liked best was the process of taming the calf and teaching it how a proper show calf ought to behave. Our cattle were Herefords, a breed that is generally relatively easy going and calm. Still, when they found themselves next to a human, they didn’t like it. We had to show them that they could allow us to touch them without undue harm or fear. It was a relatively long process, and I enjoyed it all.

I think it was usually sometime in June that we brought the calves into the barn and wrestled them into a squeeze chute to put a halter on their heads. The calves were easily 800 pounds by then, so it took some strength to do the wrestling. We got them into a smaller pen in the barn, then squeezed them between a big, heavy wooden gate and the side of the barn. It was tough holding the gate when the calf lunged against the side of it. We were flung back but kept up tight against the fence so the calf couldn’t get out. Except - sometimes it did. Then we had to do the whole thing over again, but with a smarter calf this time. No wonder we always had bumps and bruises. Argh.

Farm kids really had to be physically strong, and some extra bulk was a good thing when matching up with a beast that had an advantage of 600+ pounds.

Kay and I spent a lot of time with our calves. We both enjoyed the interaction with them. It was nice to see the progress they made in relaxing. But teaching them to lead was the biggest challenge.

There was a ring on the halter under the calf’s chin on the left side, for the attachment of a lead rope. The rope was about six feet long. One tugged on the rope to get the calf to come forward - leading the calf. Except, the calves usually didn’t want to do that. They didn’t want to come toward the human being that was already much too close.

I can clearly see Kay, Jim or I being flung almost off our feet as a frightened calf jerked his head to the side. But we didn’t dare let go of the rope. It was very important for the calf to know that such behavior would not free them, or they would continue to do it. (Cattle are relatively smart farm animals, and will learn with some repetition.)

I can even more clearly see a calf, head down, all four feet braced forward, body low, leaning back against the lead rope; with Kay, Jim or I on the other end. Our posture was a mirror image of the calf’s: Leaning back, feet braced well forward, both hands on the rope, grunting, sweat streaming, barn in the background. Argh!

Dad taught us some tricks, since we could never outpull the calf. We learned to pull the calf to the side, or even around behind it, and that helped. Still, there were some that just wouldn’t come. Dad’s trick for them was tying their lead rope to the back of a tractor and pulling them that way. The tractor could out-pull them. We rode on the tractor at the back and held the lead rope so that we could fool the calf into thinking we were actually pulling them. Eventually, we usually won, maybe because the calf got tired of the fighting, and consented to let us think we had won.

I liked combing the calf, petting him, scratching him. I liked the calf’s warm bulk, vivid color, and soft coat. Herefords are sometimes a little curly around the head, the white mane on top of the neck, the tail, and sometimes on the dark brown, known as red, of the rest of their bodies.

(This is a stock photo, not us.)

Jim spent considerably less time on his calf than Kay or I did. And he usually did better at Achievement Days. It seemed so unfair! And Jim was not averse to rubbing it in. He got purple ribbons twice on his calves. Neither Kay nor I ever got one. I did get to take Jim’s calf to the State Fair once.

That calf was a cross-bred, black and white. We didn’t think he would get a purple ribbon, because he was getting a big belly and that’s not good. In the two weeks between Achievement Days and the State Fair, I took care of the calf. I think Jim might have been off to school in Sioux Falls. The calf was quite tame and easily handled. I took him on runs down the road to try to wear off some of that belly. I held the lead rope and began to jog. He jogged along with me. It must have been quite a sight, and good for both of us. We were puffing when we got back. I think he got a red ribbon at the Fair.

For Kay and I, our calves became our pets, and the very hardest part was selling the calf after all the showing was done. That’s farm life. Livestock has a purpose - food and money. They come and go. Our calves became someone’s steak, and helped pay our bills, buy us clothing, fuel, seeds, and so on.

Overall, our 4-H experiences were very good.