RUDERMAN
MEMOIRS OF A JEWISH FARMER IN INDIANA
by Abe Rederman
I am seventy-eight years
old, now living in Sacramento, California with my wife, Adele. At the
request of Mr. Levine of the Indiana Jewish Historical Society, I have
submitted this article about my experiences as a Jewish farmer in Indiana
covering a period of almost fifty years. To the best of my
knowledge, there have been very few, if any, Jewish farmers in Indiana,
although Jews have owned farms which they leased to others.
The story starts in 1922, when my Uncle Louis Ruderman arrived in Columbia City, Indiana, from New
York City to buy onions on a joint account with a New York produce firm.
At that time he purchased a 31-acre muckland
farm in LaOtto, which is fifteen miles north of Fort Wayne, Indiana, on what is
now known as Indiana Road No. 3. On this land was a storage, which was
necessary for the storing of this produce prior to shipment elsewhere.
The question now was what to do with the land. He decided to go into the
growing of onions also, and in 1923 his first crop, which yielded abundantly,
was harvested. This gave him the incentive to purchase more land, which,
of course, meant more help was needed. Uncle Louis came back to New York
and persuaded his brother and his wife to allow me, their son, to come out to
Indiana to help him. I was just seventeen years old at the time, and I
was promised there would be a future for me.
In those days Uncle Louis went about the countryside
purchasing onions from the many muck farmers. I was just a hired
hand. I had been brought up in an extremely Orthodox home and now I lived
alone in a house in LaOtto without lights, water, or a bathroom. Yet I
was able to maintain a kosher home, eating mostly salmon and whatever I could
obtain from cans. Once in a while I would order meat or chicken from the
kosher butcher shop in Fort Wayne, and as I had no car, the butcher would send
it by mail to the local post office. One week before Christmas, an order
was placed for a freshly slaughtered chicken. Usually, a package
postmarked in the early forenoon would arrive in the evening mail. I
forgot about the Christmas mail rush and my package was delayed for two days in
arriving. The postmaster called me to tell me he had to put my parcel in
the back room -- mail bag and all -- as the stench was so terrible. I had
to take the entire package home, clean out the mailbag, and bury the contents --
and, of course, do without this delicacy!
Life was very hard to a seventeen year old. I worked
along with the farm hands from 6:30 in the morning until after 5:30 in the
evening. Then I would come home to cook my kosher meal. In the
summer we worked in the fields, and in the winter we worked in the storage,
packaging and grading onions and patching crates.
After Franklin Roosevelt came into office, electricity came
into our area. It replaced many of the old vogues of living. The
old cattle tank, which was my first solar water heater, was removed, and the
crescent moon building was removed from use.
Eventually Uncle Louis left Columbia City and came to LaOtto
to live with me. Also my brother Morris came out from New York to serve
as bookkeeper in the office. By the time I was twenty-one, I was no
longer working as a farm hand, but I, too, became a buyer and shipper for Uncle
Louis.
Some years passed, and Morris and I decided to go into business for
ourselves. Our firm became known as the A&M Ruderman
Farms. We became the first commercial growers of iceberg head
lettuce. We also grew spearmint and peppermint which we distilled into
oils, and we specialized in the growing and storing of potatoes for many potato
chip companies. When he retired, Uncle Louis sold part of his land to us.
Uncle Louis died in 1966. I believe he was 83...and close to his
84th birthday. My brother, Morris, died on April 24, 1969. The
title of being the ONION KING was given to Uncle Louis by the
"trade", and not by any organization, as far as I can remember.
They -- the "trade" -- usually called him on the phone for HIS
assessment of an onion crop in Indiana, Michigan, and Ohio. The reason
for this was that, before he would answer a question pertaining to the
"size" (production in bushels per acre), he would check the fields
personally, BEFORE harvesting took place, to estimate the total
production of said acreages, by WALKING crisscross over a field of onions
growing...usually two weeks before harvest time...THEN checking back with the
growers to see what their actual production (bushels) was. He seldom
missed his estimate by a few bushels...say 5 percent. He
trained me to this policy. I would make the journey (by car) to New York
state, and include Wisconsin and Minnesota. He therefore "knew
his onions" and was called the "ONION KING". This
information he tried hard to conceal.
He was rewarded by Purdue University as being the
"Potato Champ" for two different growing seasons, thanks to their
Extension Service. It was then that he was given a silver water
pitcher. They asked him to say a few words upon receiving the
award. He said, "I am a Broadway (New York City) Farmer and have
learned a lot from the cooperation with the Purdue Extension Service capable men."
(Of course, A&M Ruderman assisted him in winning
the second such honor...but we never received the pitcher...or a
dinner.
One year we were given the prize for growing the finest crop
of onions on our farms. I do not remember the exact year, but I believe
it was 1940. It was then that, unknown to us (A&M) the check was made
by Purdue University Extension Service Agriculture Department. When we
did not know the correct answers, we would contact these knowledgeable men for
the needed and vital information on onion and potato growing.
Uncle Louis had the foresight to predict "the
market" on onion crops. He "established in his mind "after
he had his figures" (as he called it), and usually before the USDA United
States Department of Agriculture) gave out "their" figures.
This would then be used to know when to market his own crop or buy additional
supplies to speculate on. He always said to my brother and me each year,
"I have my money back now, in growing my crop," after shipping as
many carloads (no trucks then) to the market as necessary to recoup his
outlay. He had his own original idea of drying, or curing, onions --
usually the white globe southport variety -- for very
early shipment. Before we had air-drying processes installed, his method
was this: Fill the wooden crate only one-third full. Face these
crates on an angle toward the forenoon sun, then rearrange this procedure
toward the afternoon sun, THEN pick up all these crates of white onions and
place them under a shed for the night, repeating this operation the next
day or two, whatever it took to "dry" or "cure" the onions
for "early" shipment to New York City wholesale market.
Competitors would be surprised to read in the Produce Packer, a trade
paper, the headline, "First White Onions" (boiler size) Arrive to
Market," shipped by Louis Ruderman. And
naturally, they brought very good prices. P. S. The rainy weather
prevented the drying process, and these competitors would wonder "How did
Louie do it?" In fact, they called up. (A&M was not
established at that time in the 1924 to 1930 eras.) Electricity came into
the area, and it was called R.E.M.C.
Benefactor...or one of the few men who supplied men with
work. Uncle Louis purchased a large farm near Huntertown, Indiana.
The woodland had to be cleared. Wages for farm hands at that time were
thirty cents per hour. Some were paid thirty-five cents per hour.
There were men who needed "grocery money" and they asked for some
work in clearing the wooded area, offering themselves to work for twenty-five
cents per hour. They were put to work with their saws and axes.
Some offered to work for less, but Uncle Louis said twenty-five cents per hour
is as low as he will pay, and they had to be turned away, because the "steady
men" grumbled. Was Uncle Louie a pioneer? Believe me, he
was. He wanted a day's work for a day's pay, and he got it.
After the trees and stumps were removed
from this virgin land, it was necessary to install tile drainage. The
same men were employed opening up ditches, with the ditcher placing tiles in
these open ditches at the stakes provided by the surveyor's specified
readings. This was very important for the movement of water through these
tiles at a decline (about one inch per 100 feet). Modern ditching
equipment replaced the hand-laborers in later years. Blustery weather in
springtime did not deter the men from working. They really appreciated the
wages at the end of the week. I know, for I was there with them.
Before the frost was out of the ground, we began to drill
onion seeds into the soil. In about three weeks, the seed would sprout
through the soil, ready for the spring sun.
It was necessary to remove the weeds from between the
onions, which were only about six inches tall around Memorial Day.
Wheel-hoeing each row kept the weeds from growing between the rows. This
cultivation was also done by a single wheel hoe being pushed by hand in each
13’ row. Usually 14-16 seeds would be sown per foot.
Crawling on your hand and knees to remove the weeds from between
the onions would at first cause soreness. Blisters on the knees would
eventually become calluses, a very painful "breaking in"
process. Ten hours a day walking with the cultivator or ten hours a day
weeding onions would be rather long. I know, because I was there!
Youngsters usually were hired to do the weeding. Our
trucks would pick them up at different stations--in the cities of Fort Wayne,
Huntertown, Garrett, and Avilla. The LaOtto youngsters walked to work, as
the farm boundary line joined the town or corporation line. Huntertown
farms...all hands had to be "bussed". Years later, some of the
people who worked for Uncle Louie, when they happened to meet, would say to
him. "You don't know me -- I worked for you weeding
onions." Some of the people were in professions, business, etc.)
Chemicals do all the work now in weed control on most
crops. Machinery replaced hand labor - all efficiently done.
"Bulk storages with forced air replaced the men who had done the
backbreaking job of "stacking" crates of onions and potatoes.
In the production of the finest grown iceberg head lettuce,
on a commercial basis, I believe A&M was the leader. I believe, in
Indiana, the fine grade iceberg head lettuce produced by A&M was a
"first". Purdue University as yet haven't any publications on
it on their experimental farms.
There is an important fact I must relate. Besides our
selling western grown lettuce, there were reports from some people I knew who
believed that there was "therapeutic value" in it. A doctor in
our town who enjoyed this lettuce made that remark to me. An elderly
woman, a retired school teacher, who was our neighbor, confirmed the same, but
for some other reason than the doctor, that, after eating head lettuce for
about two weeks, her arthritic hands were less swollen and she was able to move
her fingers much easier than she has done for years. She also abandoned
her two crutches, and instead used a cane as she walked across her lawn to
ours. However, when our supply ended, her arthritic condition
returned. Eli Lilly & Company of Indianapolis was apprised of the
findings. They replied that "At present, we are busy with government
work." They never did contact us afterwards.
After the death of my brother, Morris, in 1969, and the
death of our foreman at that time too, I decided it was time to
retire.
So many people are
surprised when I say that we were Jewish farmers in Indiana. We had
worked at this profession for almost fifty years, during which time there were
many good years shared with many years which were the opposite, but all in all,
it was a most rewarding experience.
Published by the Indiana Jewish
Historical Society, 103 Standard Bldg, 315 E. Berry S. Fort Wayne IN 46802
Contributed to this website by Dan
Replogle, November 2014 dlraps@ligtel.com