Peter K Funk

    Greetings to my family! I am Peter K Funk, and I want to share something of my past life.  I was born October 5, 1830 in Prussia, North Germany. As you may know, I come from a Mennonite background.

    Who are the Mennonites? To bring you up-to-date it was Memo Simons, who was born in Witmarsum, in Northeast Holland, and who founded the Mennonite faith. As a young man he became a Catholic priest. Yet with all his education, he had never studied the Holy Scriptures. Menno seriously reflected the state of his own soul and began to search, when he realized there was more to being a Christian than learning the catechism and infant baptism. Finally he left the priesthood and fled to Friesland as a refugee. Some believers had suffered for their faith in Christ. From Friesland his followers went to North Germany. Before long, Memo's followers were called Mennonites.

    In Prussia where I was born in 1830 the area was known as Poland. At first, the land was swampy, but the people drained the swampland and in time it became a fertile country. Here I too heard the Word of God, and gave my life to Jesus Christ. We always spoke Low German, or Plautt Dietsch, even in church. That's where I met Agneta Schroeder and we were married in 1856. We had two children. Then in 1862 she died, leaving me with John and Marie. I knew they needed a mother and I needed a wife, so I went to Poland where I met Anna Unruh and we were married 1863. Three of our children died as babies but the Lord blessed with Benjamin, Anna, Helena, Gerhard, and Julianna while still in Poland.

   By this time the Government became more hostile and began to take away some of our freedoms. We knew our sons, Ben now 13 and Gerhard, 5, would be drafted into the my when they grew older. Some Mennonites from Russia and also Prussia had left for America hoping life would be easier there, but we felt led to remain in Poland for a time. Yet we knew the time would come when our boys must go into the army. Maybe we should go too. 

    One day when I came home from the field I said to Anna in Low German, "Why don't we move to America a land where we can speak Plautt Dietsch and our Benjamin and Gerhard won't have to serve in the army?"

    At first the children demurred. Leave our fruit and vegetable gardens, our rich farmlands?  There was so much to leave behind.

    'We will pray about it, and as ;he Lord leads we will follow," Anna and I decided.

    We prayed a lot, so that Little Julianna who was two, often fell asleep before we were through. We knew that ship after ship had safely crossed the Atlantic Ocean, and we finally turned it all over to the Lord as we asked Him what to do. It wasn't an easy decision. The answer that came was GO!

    Anna and I began to make plans. She promised to bake lots of zwiebachs for the trip, for we didn't know how well we'd be fed on the ship. Anyway, we weren't sure the ship's kitchen crew would serve our favorite Mennonite Zwiebachl What was life without them?

    'You'd better toast them too," Gerhard said. ''Our big chest will hold lots of zwiebachs."

    "But the way those big ships toss on the heavy seas, we may throw up whatever we eat," Ben added sagely.

    "At least we'll feed the fishl" Gerhard grinned.

    In the weeks that followed we sold our belongings, baked mounds of zwiebachs, smoked plenty of sausage, packed clothes in the big chest, plus many wool comforts and other bedding we would need in America. All of this was a big job. Sometimes at night we'd be so tired we'd fall into bed.

    The day finally came in 1876 when we were to leave for America. We had heard that some people had died on ship, also some babies were born on board, so it was a journey of mixed emotions. We were excited when we walked up the gangplank as big cranes hoisted our belongings and were stored on deck. Then we heard the shrill TOOT-TOOT of the ship as we grew more excited, especially the children and especially Ben. Sometimes the seas were turbulent and boisterous waves rocked the ship, making some passengers very seasick. Occasionally young boys who were unaffected by the high rolling waves got jobs scrubbing floors which was necessary with the seasick passengers. They didn't mind cleaning up the "yuks" if they were paid with shiny American dollars!

    After days of rocking on the wold waves we finally steamed into New York harbor. All the passengers went through customs at Castle Gardens. How we marveled at the great city, the biggest we'd ever seen! We'd been told over and over that we were to head for Peabody, Kansas, and some may have wondered if New York City was so huge, how big Peabody would be! From Castle Gardens we, the Peter K. Funk family boarded the railroad train that had stopped and puffed for our ride across the prairies. We anxiously looked forward to our new home as the steam cars rumbled down the tracks. Here we learned that grasshoppers had swept across Kansas (someone was always there to translate) just two years before we came. It must've been very scary and disturbing. Surely some settlers may have wondered if the Egyptian plague had returned to devour them, for in August, 1874, on a bright summer afternoon the sun became hazy and suddenly it grew dark. Men, cultivating in the fields wondered where the clouds had come from. Even the chickens scrambled for their roosts. Then there was a whining noise in the sky that grew louder as though hailstones were falling. But it wasn't hail-it was a horde of millions and millions of grasshoppers attacking the crops, chewing and gnawing every green thing! Yet most settlers had faith the grasshoppers wouldn't return.

    Not only that, but we were told how herds of buffalo had roamed across the plains earlier and endangered crops and prairie land. But the Indians were no longer a menace, although some settiers had admitted it wasn't unusual to see dark Indian faces peeping in their windows, for the Kaws from the reservation at Council Grove sometimes fished and hunted along the Cottonwood River, and were curious about the new white people who had come. 

    We were also warned of prairie fires, and advised how to cope with them. Yes, there was much to learn about America we didn't know! "This new land is so different from Prussia!" little 2 1/2 -year-old Julianna wailed. "I'm scared. I warn go back homel"

    Ben tweaked his little sister's braid. 'But we suffered hardships in Prussia too. Things will get better. Just wait and see."

    At last the train rumbled and chuffed into Peabody. It wasn't much bigger than a wart on a man's jaw. And we hadn't seen a single grasshopper, buffalo, or Indian! We thanked God we had arrived safely.

    We and our baggage, our big chest and all our possessions were loaded on wagons and off we lumbered some 20 or more miles north through the high prairie grass to our new home. I was already about 45 years old, and here we were to start farming in America our new land. Anna and I prayed all would go well.

    Our home in Risley Township lay several miles due north of a tiny settlement (what later became Hillsboro) where a creek cut through the middle of the pasture, call French Creek. Here we would live. We built a simple small house, barns and chicken coops, and began cultivating our land. I started with a walking plow, for our land was level. My shoulders ached at first, but the sod was turned, and we planted our Turkey Red Wheat in the virgin soil. No Grasshopper plagues! For we never forgot what the people on the train on the way to Peabody had told us. Later we bought more land. The French Creek schoolhouse not only served as a school where our children learned to read and write in American language, but also became our church. Some ministers from the Mennonite community conducted church services each Sunday. By now daughter Eva had joined the family. Our little house grew more cramped, and we needed to build a larger house. It would have upstairs rooms too.

    For many years Peter H. Block was our pastor, and faithfully preached the word. On Pentecost Sunday of 1880 I was baptized upon the confession of my faith by immersion. After the Johannestal congregation split, some to the General Conference Mennonites, some to the Mennonite Brethren, and Krimmer Mennonite Brethren, we became several Mennonite churches in the area. Two more daughters joined our family: Wilhelminnie (before long we called her Minnie for her name was quite a mouthlid) and finally baby Sara. It was more urgent than ever to build a larger house.

    Of course, the French Creek flowing through our land seemed tiny compared to the mighty Vistula River which had flooded Poland every now and then, but the French Creek was a good place to fish- when the children weren't busy helping on the farm. The entire family contniuted to our life on the farm in one way or another.

    Our holdings had increased significantly by 1885 according to the census of Risley Township records. We had 20 acres under fence with 100 rods of barbwire, a total of 240 acres of farmland. The estimated value of the land and buildings was $10,000.00. The value of farming tools and machinery $50.00 and total wages paid out during the year was $150.00.

    Three hundred bushels of corn were still on hand as of March 1, also 8 tons of prairie hay. We made 100 lbs. of butter during the year. All the zwiebach and roasting ears took a lot of butter.

    We planted 70 acres of Turkey Red wheat in fall, 40 acres of corn in spring, 18 acres of oats, 4 acres of millet for feed and 102 acres of prairie grass.

    We had 4 horses, 2 mules, 3 milk cows, 4 other cows, 12 hogs which were our main source of meat for the winter.

    Our fruit orchard included 150 apple trees, 50 peach trees, and 5 cherry trees. We even sold fruit to Schaeffler's Store.

    We also had flocks of geese and ducks for eating and for feathers which made comfortable pillows and feather beds.

    Altogether our family owned good quality land, including both banks of the French Creek.  Although we didn't use the threshing stone from Russia, for by then we had threshing machines to bring in the wheat harvest that often took most of the summer. The older girls donned straw hats to help shock wheat. We hauled our wheat to the gristmill called "The Friesen Mill" to be ground into flour.

    I donated a plot of land to the school district for the French Creek school. The younger children attended French Creek School, District #35, where they received a good education in language. At recess, ,there were games on the school ground, like hide-and-seek, Shinny (when boys especially, knocked a tin can or rock all over the schoolyard with a stick) and in the winter if there was a lot of snow, there was Fox and Geese. And of course, our boys had their dogs and the girls had their cats which always made good pets. Butchering hogs usually took place in November, with Ben and Gerhard helping the men until the last squeal had died away. The stuffed sausage and smoked hams tasted good, no matter what time of year. Now and then the boys shot cottontails or jack rabbits when the meat supply ran low.

    We soon became aware of the Kansas wind that blew dust and dirt everywhere, but what we feared most was the stormy nights when we huddled in the cellar as trees bent down, limbs crashed to the ground, and door banged. But we all loved America with its bright red sunsets and gentle rains. It was fun to splash in the puddles after a good summer shower.

    Ben usually helped in the fields while Gerhard (who was later called George) chored the hogs, brought in arm loads of firewood for the stoves. Anna and Helena helped their mother Anna scrub clothes on the washboard, and hung the freshly-washed clothes on the line where the clothes billowed in the Kansas wind that pitched them dry. Ironing wasn't easy either, for the women had to heat bulky sad-irons on the top of the cookstove, then shake out the dampened dresses and shirts and press them. Especially to get the stiffly starched clothes ironed crisp just right was quite a job. While the younger ones were in school, Mother Anna always had her lap full of patching, or socks to darn or knit. Anna's treadle sewing machine hummed for many hours at a time, stitching up denim shirts and full skirts.

    The womenfolk also had the job of soap-making. Atter saving scraps and dollops of grease, mixed with lye, and dumped into a huge iron kettle where it all simmered and bubbled until ready to be poured, cooled and cut into chunks.

    It wasn't unusual for the children to come down with measles mumps, and chickenpox, for each one seemingly caught the usual routine of childhood diseases. Anna was very strict about keeping the dark green shades pulled in the house, when there was an outbreak of measles, to protect the eyes, or the whoop of whooping cough through the house.

    Although the children went barefooted in the summertime, I resoled their shoes for I had my own cobbler's last as I put new soles on pair after pair of shoes, sometimes 2 or 3 times.  Every Saturday night each shoe was cleaned and polished, then all lined up in a row, ready for Sunday morning. It always seemed one child tore a shoe lace on Sunday morning, and someone had to lace a fresh shoe string into those high-laced shoes at the last minute, but we never missed church or Sunday School if we could help it.

    One by one, the children became followers of Jesus Christ, and joined the church. They were obedient, helpfull and loving children for that is how Anna and I brought them up. They learned to trust the Lord and rely on His leading. Also one by one, the children fell in love and were married. There were Bartels galore in the community. Ben married Mary Bartel, and Anna also married a Bartel. Helena found an Unruh; George too looked for a wife among the Bartels and discovered Sarah Bartel. Julianna married an Unruh; Eva found Jacob Hodel, while Minnie married Frank Kliewer, and Sara found Peter Frantz from Boyd, Oklahoma.

    In 1898 Anna became very ill with a lung disease, and passed away not long after. (We had been married 35 years). By now Ben had taken over the farm, and the rest were scattered, several in Oklahoma.

    After Anna died, I was alone, especially since the children were all married and lived on their own farms. I enjoyed my grandchildren, and when they came to visit I always opened my arms for a good hug. I often sat with my Bible open on my lap as I remembered the many ways the Lord had led us in this "Promised Land" along the French Creek. He had blessed us so many times. The children built a small house for me on the Jacob Hodel farm, until the tittle house was moved onto son Ben's place.

    I noticed my heart pounding harder than usual, for 1 knew I was not well. I realized I was nearing the end of my life and entrance to my Heavenly Home, to behold my Jesus, my Savior.  How wonderful to join my loved ones who had gone ahead, for I had lived a fill, joyous life, serving the Lord. 'Even so, Come Lord Jesusl" 

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                      (Take a deep breath-and change your tone of voice). Peter K. Funk drew his last breath on May 29, 1907, apparently of a heart attack, after he had eaten a light snack. He was lying on the floor where the family found him. The family and friends erected a large tent on Ben's yard for the funeral. Ministers who prepared his service were: David P. Schroeder of Lehigh, Peter E. Nickel of Hillsboro, Johann Plenetl of Johannestal, Peter A Wiebe of Springfield,  and Elder Heinrich Wiebe of Gnadnau, where he had been a member. The family came from all over to attend the service: Mrs. Gerhard Bartel, Peter and Sarah Frantz, fiom Boyd, Oklahoma, and Frank and Minnie Kliewer of Orienta, Oklahoma, plus the families who lived in Kansas.

    Peter K. Funk, our forefather is remembered for his lie that was an example and challenge to us all. Let's all live so we shall see him again! "Blessed are they who die in the Lord. . .for their works do follow them." (Rev. 14:13)

• Reference: Find A Grave Memorial - SmartCopy: Feb 17 2020, 22:12:14 UTC