Prairie Crosses Transcript
- [Narrator] They stand in the far distance. If you are not aware of them, you may not know where to look. You search the horizon and then you see them. They stand in a little group, facing the sun. They seem to be waiting. Although they stand silent, one senses that behind each and every one there is a story. These unusual creations are prairie crosses, and they echo no less than a thousand prairie voices.
- [Announcer] Funding provided by the North Dakota Council On the Arts, the North Dakota Humanities Council, the North Dakota State University Libraries, and the members of Prairie Public.
- This is the region known as the Great Plains, the heartland of North America. It is a land of seemingly endless grass and sky and wind. The Great Plains region contains no small number of surprises. Many of them are natural wonders and are as old as time itself, but there are other phenomena that clearly bear the mark of human hands and hopes and dreams. These prairies contain numerous crosses, grave markers crafted from iron and steel and other types of metal. They represent a unique and enduring form of folk art. The prairie crosses fit easily and naturally into this land of grass and sky. Like the surrounding plants and clouds, the crosses are of all shapes and sizes and colors. Most of their creators, the original cross makers, now are gone. And for this reason, many questions remain. For more than a quarter of a century, I have tried to piece together the story of these prairie crosses. It is a story of discovery. As it turns out, it is a story about much more than just prairie crosses for it deals with nothing less than the drama of human life and death. And it is a story that spans the vastness of the entire Great Plains region. Prairie crosses can be found throughout the North American heartland, from the Mississippi River, west, to the Rocky Mountains, and from the Canadian prairies, south, into Mexico. The iron crosses appear to be most numerous here on the prairies of North Dakota. Many of these markers also can be found in South Dakota, Montana, Minnesota, Kansas, Texas, and in Manitoba, Saskatchewan, and Alberta, Canada. Of the many ethnic groups who called the Great Plains their home, the Germans from Russia have been especially important in maintaining the tradition of making and erecting iron crosses. Mostly fashioned by blacksmiths, these crosses mark the graves of generations of the German-Russian dead. The Germans from Russia are a true people of the prairie. In the late 1800s and early 1900s, they left the treeless steps of the Volga and Ukraine to establish a new life on the Great Plains. Although they had lived in the Czar's Empire for 100 years or more, they clung to their ancestral German language and traditions. And one of these traditions was that of making wrought iron crosses or eiserne kreuz, as most German-Russians called them. No one knows when or how the tradition of making iron crosses began, but there are stories.
- There are all kinds of stories about iron crosses. They're told by a lot of different people, a lot of German-Russians, especially blacksmiths and their families. As an example, years and years ago, there was this German warrior who was renowned for his fighting ability. He was in many, many battles, but the only thing he carried in the battle was one sword. It was a large, very ornate sword. And one day he was walking through the countryside and a band of enemy knights or warriors descended upon him and battle ensued, and he killed a number of the enemy and he wounded some others, but there were so many of 'em that he continued to fight with a lot of honor and dignity and resilience. He'd never gave up, but he did fight to death. And the enemy was so impressed that when they buried him, they took that large ornate sword that he fought with and they stuck it in the ground at the head of the grave to mark the memory of this man to honor his bravery. And it's said that that sword also marked the beginning of the wrought iron cross tradition. And you can see some of these illustrations visually in the crosses themselves.
- [Tim] In Europe, iron crosses date back to at least the 1600s, during the time of the Renaissance. Among the oldest iron grave crosses in existence today are those found in Austria and in Bavaria, Germany. Several are preserved in old churches and museums, while others still stand outdoors, exposed to the sun and natural elements. Many of the older iron crosses in Austria and Germany are richly decorated with colorful and elaborate symbols. In a number of ways, ancient crosses in Europe are similar to those found on the Great Plains, but with one exception, the iron crosses in Austria and Bavaria stand against a background of hills and trees and dwellings. The sounds of church bells and tractors and passing cars fill the air. In stark contrast, the iron crosses of the Great Plains often are framed by nothing but a huge expanse of grass and sky, and the surrounding silence is broken only occasionally by the sound of the wind or the creaking of a cemetery gate. The scene was much the same in the Ukrainian and Volga homelands of the Germans from Russia. Today, evidence of German cemeteries in Russia and Ukraine is difficult to find. In the 1940s and 1950s, many German-Russian graveyards were destroyed or simply left to ruin. The old iron crosses were seen as a ready source of salvage material by the new inhabitants. German-Russian tombstones also were carted away to be used in buildings, bridges, and roadways. Because of such widespread destruction and neglect in the old European homeland, the iron crosses of the German-Russians on the Great Plains now assume even greater importance, and they represent a type of North American folk art that is more than a century old. Wherever they may be, the iron crosses symbolize the lives of individuals, men, women, and children, and thus each iron cross tells a story. Some of the prairie voices that you will hear are inspired by actual characters or actual events. Others originate from the wellspring of imagination. No matter the source, behind every iron cross, there is a story, and an all too human voice that struggles to be heard.
- [The Quiet One] Don't let the big open heart on this cross of mine fool you. My human heart was broken only once, but the pain was great. I couldn't talk about it then, and I can't talk about it now. I'm sorry. Maybe you're sorry. There are times we all should be sorry.
- [Tim] Among German-Russians living in the Great Plains region today, the very mention of iron crosses often evokes a powerful mix of memories and emotions.
- They are a story of their own. Each one tells its story by the shape it is made, but it's very interesting to see. There are so many different styles, which tells me that there was more than one blacksmith and each one was an artist that had their own design and you could tell by that design, who the artist was and is.
- [Tim] Although the iron crosses of the Great Plains usually are associated with the Germans from Russia, evidence of this tradition can be found in the cemeteries of many different groups. The Irish, German Hungarians who emigrated from the Austro-Hungarian empire, the Czechs, the Ukrainians, the French and Metis, and many other groups. In the late 1800s, a number of Plains Indians also began using iron crosses to mark the sacred resting places of their ancestral dead. The symbol of the cross was known to the Plains Indians long before the coming of the Europeans, and iron was held in special regard by the original inhabitants.
- My mother's sister has an iron cross and it is cast and it's cast I think elaborately. There is all this iron that is done in different shapes and different figures, and then at the bottom of it then is this porcelain piece, which has her information, her name, and her date of death, and that is still visible after almost 100 years.
- [Tim] In the early 1900s, German-Russian families moved onto the Standing Rock and Cheyenne River Reservations in the Western Dakotas. Despite their cultural differences, the German-Russians and Plains Indians found that they shared many things in common.
- People who came here, my mother said around 1910, were dressed differently. She always described how the men dressed and how the Dakota people admired how they dressed, and the ladies wore nice scarves on their heads and they had shawls on and they wore aprons, but those people spoke German. And my mother said after church they would all meet and socialize. It was very, very wonderful to know that people got along so well.
- [Tim] At the site of this teepee shaped church on the Standing Rock Reservation, Plains Indian and German-Russian families have attended religious services together for generations. Only a short distance from the teepee shaped church is a cemetery that contains the graves of numerous Sioux Indians and German-Russians. They rest side by side. Nearly all of the iron crosses here were made by members of the Schneider family, which included five generations of cross makers. One member of this family was Louis Schneider. He worked as the local blacksmith and sheriff and was known for both his physical strength and his sense of humor. When asked what he thought of the teepee shaped church, he once remarked, "Oh, I like a church that's round. That's how it ought to be. That way the devil can't corner you."
- My Uncle Louis and my Uncle Jake were cross makers. I remember him as a large man, huge arms, very friendly face, very nice to children. He had a cap that was always full of black soot, his whiskers and his face was always covered with soot, his arms were covered with soot. He did have his sleeves rolled up often when he worked, and you could see his sinewy hands and strong arms. It was dark, it had very few windows outside the door, and it had an earth floor. There were benches around the outside and he told me that Indians would sit there, and then he would light their pipes with his red hot stoker. I've seen crosses half made when I was a little boy, and I like to hear the bellows. I like to see the sparks fly. I like to hear and see him pound. Those hammers must have weighed eight, 10 pounds. He had no masterpieces that he worked from. It was all done from memory and by heart, and it was so amazing to me when I look at cross now that it's so symmetrical and he had no pattern to follow.
- [Tim] When the Germans from Russia first came to the Great Plains, they marked the graves of their dead with simply made wooden crosses, but these crosses seldom lasted long. Strong winds, snow drifts, prairie fires, and the forces of time all took their toll on the wooden crosses. When the early blacksmiths set up their shops, they went to work creating grave markers of iron or steel that were more durable. The wrought iron crosses withstood the powerful winds of the prairie. Some were resilient enough to sway in even the strongest wind. And when prairie fires swept through a cemetery, the iron crosses remained standing. Because of the popularity of wrought iron crosses, foundries in cities like Chicago, Cincinnati, St. Louis, and Bismarck began mass producing cast iron grave crosses. Like the handmade iron crosses, these metal markers came in a variety of sizes and ranged from being very simple to quite ornate. A popular cast iron marker was that of a standing angel. Following a cloud burst, raindrops slowly dripped from the figures outstretched hand. As cast iron markers became more and more popular, the blacksmiths of the Great Plains rose to the challenge. Just as their creations had inspired mass produced markers, they now showed that they could copy the products of their urban competitors. These two crosses, marking the graves of a husband and wife in Western Kansas, appear to be identical. But on closer inspection, one discovers that the cross on the left is a cast iron marker produced in a foundry, while the one on the right is a handmade cross by the German-Russian blacksmith, Jacob Schutter. The mass produced metal crosses did not always hold up well. The extreme temperatures of the Great Plains affected these metal crosses adversely, and there are tell-tale signs in numerous cemeteries. In Western Kansas where the early settlers use local limestone to build everything from huge cathedrals to fence posts, grave markers sometimes were carved from this native limestone as well. But in some Kansas cemeteries where there are iron crosses, the carved limestone markers are painted a metallic silver color that is strangely reminiscent of the brightly painted iron crosses. In the 1920s and 1930s, homemade concrete grave markers began to appear in German-Russian cemeteries. Granite tombstones and other mass produced headstones also became increasingly popular. But for more than half a century, from the 1870s to the 1930s, iron crosses would dominate the cemetery landscape in many German-Russian communities on the Great Plains.
- Iron crosses was synonymous with a cemetery to me. In fact, I was surprised to see tombstones at times because I always expected an iron cross.
- [Tim] To the Germans from Russia, the cemetery was not only a special place, it represented the realm of the sacred. In Catholic cemeteries, a large crucifixion scene or shrine cross often can be seen in the middle or at one end of the graveyard. A metal gate or fence often sets the cemetery off from the surrounding countryside.
- The cemetery we have here at St. Joseph's is just beautiful. It's so peaceful. And when it snows, everything's covered with snow. That's beautiful. They're the neatest neighbors you can have. No barking dogs, no trash, no nothing.
- [Tim] When German-Russian Catholics visit a cemetery, they often bring bottles of holy water and sprinkle the graves of their loved ones. It is a traditional way of showing respect for the dead and serves as a reminder that deceased family members and friends are not forgotten.
- Everybody had their holy water. Bottle with holy water and that they didn't walk by like they do nowadays . I had four great aunts living in Munjor. And we usually went up to the cemetery every Sunday evening around five o'clock, six, and we didn't have bottles like that. We had big bottles of holy water, and we prayed on the way up and prayed up here with the different graves, you know? The relation.
- [Tim] As one visits various German-Russian cemeteries on the Great Plains, the difference between the iron cross styles of Western Kansas and Western North Dakota is truly remarkable. One quickly discovers that in order to understand anything about iron crosses, one must learn something about the men who fashioned them, the blacksmiths. And at one time, nearly every town on the Great Plains had its own blacksmith.
- [Edward] "Under a spreading chestnut-tree, the village smithy stands; The smith, a mighty man is he, With large and sinewy hands, And the muscles of his brawny arms Are strong as iron bands. His hair is crisp, and black, and long; His face is like the tan; His brow is wet with honest sweat, He earns whate'er he can, And looks the whole world in the face, For he owes not a man."
- [Tim] The smithy, or blacksmith shop, often was located on the edge of town or near a place where there was an ample supply of water. Farmers brought in their plow shares to be sharpened and townspeople brought in a variety of items for repair. The village blacksmith was a jack of all trades, but his specialty was the heating and shaping of metal. Using a hammer, a pair of tongs, an anvil, and a forage, he could make or repair just about anything. The blacksmith shop was usually kept dark so that the blacksmith could see the changing colors of the heated metal. Such darkness only reinforced the notion that there was something mysterious and almost magical about blacksmithing. Certain blacksmiths worked part-time as folk doctors and even dentists. John Knoll of Victoria, Kansas made numerous iron crosses, but he occasionally pulled teeth in his blacksmith shop as well. When someone dared complain of a bad toothache, he sat his patient on the anvil and extracted the problem tooth with a pair of homemade pliers. There were also German-Russian families in which there were both blacksmiths and female folk doctors. The Beilman family of Ellis County, Kansas, for example, included iron cross makers like Peter Beilman and his son Joseph, but it also included the legendary folk healer, Dorothea Beilman.
- [Dorothea] Everyone in these parts know me as the wunderfrau, the miracle lady. I worked on many a crippled little baby and I straightened many a crooked limb, yet I who helped so many others could not keep sickness away from myself. Once I was laid up in the hospital and they brought an injured man to me, he had been hurt bad in a farm accident. The doctor said he'd surely lose his leg, so they helped me out of my sick bed and I went to work on that poor man's torn leg. I just let my hands do God's holy will. The farmer later recovered and he never lost his leg. Yeah. Yes, you can believe it or not, but that's just how it was.
- [Tim] Throughout the Great Plains, the names of German-Russian cross makers are associated with particular cross styles. In Western Kansas, Michael B. Kuhn made large iron crosses with the frame of double pipe and numerous coils of elaborate scroll work. Similar pipe frame crosses with minor variations were fashioned by Kansas blacksmiths, John Knoll, Jacob J. Schmidt, and his brother John Schmidt. In North Dakota, the Schneider family used lightweight buggy tire for the main frame of the cross and added a distinctive diamond design with hand forged leaves of iron. Black Sea German cross maker Joseph P. Klein made large graceful iron crosses that featured the initials of the deceased in the open crossbars of each marker. Conrad Segmiller made 100s of iron crosses that now stand on the prairies of Western North Dakota and Eastern Montana. His crosses often included jubilant twin angels at the top of every marker. In Saskatchewan, Canada, Mike Proteger and other members of the Proteger family made crosses that featured a sunburst design with bent rods radiating out from the center of each cross. Also in Western Saskatchewan, Bessarabian German cross maker Stellantis Wingenbach perfected the art of cross making. His elegant crosses feature 100s of handmade pieces, including stylized tulips, cross shaped blossoms, and twin candles at the base of the marker. Most of the prairie blacksmiths who made iron crosses are now gone. The children and grandchildren of the blacksmiths remember the cross makers and keep them alive in countless recollections and stories.
- We had a big family and blacksmithing was our trade, and by it he put food on the table so we could all eat. And I can vaguely see my dad standing in the doorway and I was only 10 years old at that time and I remember all the rods and all the dirt and stuff inside and that fire thing, they fire it up and then he had one of those big loud trip hammers, you know, that goes up, clang, clang, clang. Then he had one of those things that sharpen the plow shearers. The farmers would bring in their shears and he'd get 'em ready for harvest. My dad was a pretty well built fella. And the main thing, he was a disciplinarian and we kinda had to live by the book. And a deeply religious person.
- [Tim] Few blacksmiths on the Great Plains could equal the creative work of cross maker Thomas Stebner of Western North Dakota.
- Dad had a blacksmith shop in Sulz, Russia before he came over here. He told that he had been orphaned and how he had become a blacksmith because he had been taken in by a blacksmith and his family and they raised him, and he had his own shop before he was married. And they came over in 1907. When he came over, he established a small blacksmith shop in Mandan and he had that for a number of years, and then he made these crosses during that same period when people that he had known over there asked him to make them and others that knew about his work wanted him to make these crosses. He was a very quiet man. He didn't have too much to say and he worked very, very hard. He wasn't a demonstrative man at all. I don't remember him ever hugging me, but dad just kept himself pretty much.
- [Tim] Nearly all of the original cross makers are gone except for Herman Reschny of Alberta, Canada. At about the same time that iron grave crosses began to decline in popularity on the Great Plains, Herman Reschny decided to continue the tradition on his own. He was not a full-time blacksmith, but a farmer who did blacksmithing part-time. The first iron cross Herman Reschny made was in 1941 for his own daughter.
- One of my children died, and I couldn't afford to go to the blacksmiths and I knew a little bit about blacksmith. I tried it, and so that's when I started. Taking the inch half pipe and cut in two. Then you can weld three of them together. This irony is soft and you can bend that cold. The points, that's hard work. You weld everything together, then you weld that to cover up all those joints that are in there. The old ones used to have a bolt through here to hold it, but now with electric welders you can, that's a lot easier. Mark the name on with a center punch. To finish, I grounded off at the back and that made a little hole. The name would stay even if the plate would get rusty. A cross like this would take about two days to finish.
- [Tim] Like earlier blacksmiths, Herman Reschny often used pieces of scrap metal in his crosses. As one closely examines even the older iron crosses of the prairie, one sees that brass doorknobs and other odds and ends often reused in the design of each cross.
- They used nuts and bolts and nails and just anything they could get ahold of, and look what the beautiful symbols they came up with.
- Yeah, they definitely used the material that was available. The German-Russians don't waste anything. The German-Russians like to make proverbs that rhyme. Whoever does not honor the penny does not deserve a dollar.
- [Tim] In nearly every German-Russian cemetery on the Great Plains, there is a children's section. The markers usually are very simple and no names or dates appear on certain crosses. In many cemeteries, there are numerous graves and markers that recall the great flu epidemic of 1918. Diseases of various kinds periodically swept through the German-Russian communities and their effect was devastating. In South Central North Dakota, for example, Michael and Luisa Feist lost six children and a nephew to diptheria in the spring of 1898. Seven identical iron crosses still serve as a vivid reminder of this terrible epidemic. The prairies are dotted with many iron crosses that bear witness to personal losses and tragedies of all kinds.
- The old people must die, but young people are able to die. So you should be prepared for death at any time, not only in old age, but also while you're young.
- I know that with today's philosophy, you should look at a death as something happy. I can't really accept that. To me, a death is still sad. It's a sad affair even for a child, to lose a child and you say, "Well, it's been baptized, it is now in heaven." True, but it is still a sad affair.
- [Tim] In order to understand the iron crosses, one must understand the religious context of these folk creations. Most of the iron crosses were made at a time when Roman Catholicism was different than it is today. Longstanding traditions and the authority of priests seldom were questioned. Before the Second World War, many German-Russians died at home, not in hospitals. Wakes were held in family parlors, not in mortuaries. The grave was dug by the pall bears or by relatives, not by strangers.
- They have the body in the house. They usually had wakes all day, evenings, and the next day they had the mass, they had the team of horses hitched up, and the people all walked up here. And they had a very nice singing always up here that made everybody cry.
- [Tim] Among older German-Russians, perhaps no memory of early funerals is so vivid as the mournful singing of the burial hymn, "Das Schicksal wird keinen verschonen", "The Fate That Will Spare No One." The Schicksal hymn was sung from the viewpoint of the deceased and reminded all the mourners that everything, everything comes to an end.
- That's the saddest song in the whole world. Makes everybody cry, that's why they sing it.
- I remember the Schicksal very well. They sang that at the cemetery as the coffin was lowered into the ground. And then they threw the dirt on and you could hear the dirt. Boom, boom.
- That's when they really broke down. God, it reminded them of that person.
- He had a cassette tape and he played it at one of our meetings here, and oh, everybody was just in awe. It is just a very touching song, you know, it's very touching.
- Yes, I remember the Schick song. When they started singing that song, then the people would really cry and while they were covering the grace, and maybe it was a good way to do it, they cried and get the crying over with.
- [Bride] The happiest day of my life turned out to be my last. My heart pounded so fast with joy, the rest of me could not take it. I collapsed on the dance floor in the arms of my beloved, and so my marriage celebration became a two day funeral wake. Mama laid me out in my wedding gown. Everyone said I look like Sleeping Beauty. Dear ones, when you see the bridal blossoms here on my cross, do not become sad. Smile for me and remember this, it was the happiest day of my life.
- [Tim] The iron crosses of the Great Plains are decorated with numerous symbols, angels with trumpets, angels with banners, even little angels going in different directions. But one also sees other symbols. Heavenly crowns, stars, tulips, lilies, and roses. As one studies such symbols, one cannot help but wonder if the early blacksmiths dared to defy the mournful message of the German-Russian burial hymn, the message that everything, everything comes to an end and that even cedar trees and roses must wilt and wither away. Yet the iron blossoms of the prairie bloom daily. They continue to bring comfort even in the harshest months of winter and the hottest months of summer. Sometimes the blacksmith drew his inspiration from the landscape around him. Cross maker Paul Keller often included strands of waving wheat in his unusual iron cross creations. But the early blacksmiths also had a sense of humor, and it is not uncommon to see iron crosses that contain a personal touch.
- [Worker] Just about every spring we'd board the train at haste and head out West to work beets in Colorado. Oh, that was backbreaking work, but I got pretty good at it. That's why a lot of folks called me Sugar Beet Joe. Oh, I hated those speeds. I'm telling you, there was nothing sweet about those long nosed roots. I cussed at the start of every row. After I stopped working beets, people around here still teased me. "Hey Joe", they'd say. "Hey Joe, where's your hole? Where's your hole?" And look what the blacksmith did. He put sugar beets on my cross. Now the whole world will know that he lies Sugar Beet Joe.
- [Tim] Among the Catholic German-Russians, there were rigid rules about who and even what was buried in the consecrated soil of the cemetery.
- My father lost his leg when he was a young child and he kept injuring it and gangrene set in and so they amputated it and it is buried in the Emmeram Cemetery in the southwest corner in the unconsecrated part of the cemetery. And it was no longer part of his body for when he actually died so the remains of the leg are in that cemetery, and he's buried in the Victoria Cemetery.
- [Tim] Unbaptized or illegitimate children usually were buried in a special section of the church cemetery. But there were always exceptions and thus customs varied. Suicide was viewed as a grievous offense in early German-Russian communities. Priests were especially strict in such situations and often a suicide was buried on the edge of the cemetery, if indeed burial was allowed in the cemetery at all.
- [Tim] Although the iron cross tradition is closely associated with the Catholics, there were cross makers among the Protestant German-Russians as well. Carl Rennick, for example, was a blacksmith in Central North Dakota who fashioned simple but distinctive iron crosses. Carl Rennick is remembered not only as a skilled cross maker, but a man of great size and tremendous physical strength. Another Protestant cross maker, Samuel Miller, emigrated from the Crimea in South Russia and settled in Western North Dakota in 1910. His iron crosses have fenced metal enclosures that include the name of the deceased.
- From what I've heard, that's the only place that there ever been something like this where the name is on the end of the marker. I think all of these crosses, they're all a little bit different. Some have like this, this one's got a cross on the end of it. Some of the other ones have crosses, some of 'em have circles, some of 'em have triangles. I'm very proud of it, couldn't be prouder.
- [Tim] Whether Protestant or Catholic, the German-Russians held sacred the burial places of their dead. But even in such places of sorrow, there could be moments of lighthearted humor.
- [Fibber] No matter how cold or how deep the snow, I was there in church, in the front row. I never missed a single Sunday service and I usually arrived a whole hour early. The rest of the week, I worked real hard and I became the wealthiest man in town. Hundreds flocked to my funeral from miles and miles around. And my widow, she insisted my cross be bigger. Despite all this, folks never used my real name, they just called me Fibber.
- [Tim] In the 1940s and 1950s, the demand for blacksmithing began to decline. Mass manufactured items, rubber tired vehicles, and electric welding all contributed to the demise of traditional blacksmithing. Fewer and fewer iron crosses were made and tombstones became increasingly common.
- I have a strong feeling for the iron crosses, and I think they show much more of the individuality of the person. And there's a more personal feeling towards the person who is buried because when you buy a granite monument, it's like buying a TV or buying a car. You don't have that heart in it in the way they did when these crosses were made. And so I feel there's something more human, something more loving in the iron crosses than there is in a granite monument. As the farmers became more wealthy, they would want to buy something from town. They didn't want to have a homemade cross. And so as years went on, it ended up that the poor people were the ones who had the iron crosses, and the more well-to-do people bought a monument from town.
- In some cemeteries on the Great Plains, the tall ornate iron crosses were removed and then hauled away to a trash dump. Other iron crosses were used as scrap metal or simply hidden out of sight. For more than 25 years, I have sought out and researched iron crosses. My journeys have taken me into many parts of the United States and into many parts of the world. For example, here I am on the Canadian prairies of Western Saskatchewan. I stand in a cemetery that is about 1,500 miles north of the prairie community in which I was born. And yet even here I find iron crosses. And I find something else, a very personal reminder of the worldwide wanderings of my own people and even my own relatives Tucked away in this old shed to the side of the cemetery are dusty iron crosses, but the family name is still visible. It is my own, Kloberdanz. These particular iron crosses no longer see the light of day, they stand in near darkness and gather dust. They are, for me at least, a reminder of the ancient admonition, remember man, thou art dust and unto dust, thou shall return. In recent years, the iron cross tradition of the German-Russians has been rediscovered. There is renewed appreciation for this unusual type of folk art. In Western South Dakota, these two descendants of the early German-Russian pioneers are determined that the iron cross tradition of their people will not disappear.
- Yeah, I kinda like the shape of that cross. Those baby graves we marked over to Glencross. See, they is marked, they bury the babies on the outside. The people move away and they weren't marked. And you know, a kid can't leave much behind except his name, didn't even have that. So we marked, I think it's 16.
- I was visiting with with Herman, and Irvin Keller, of course was along. That's when I got the idea, you know, hey, you know, I still didn't get no cross up where the two babies that I lost. And then I got after them too and I said, "Boy, I would just be so proud if you would make me iron crosses as a marker."
- [Tim] One of the largest iron crosses on the Great Plains is also one of the most recent. It is the Millennium Cross and was erected in the fall of 1999. The cross stands in Strasburg, North Dakota, the hometown of the famous German-Russian bandleader, Lawrence Welk. The Millennium Cross is richly decorated with religious symbols and stands 18 feet high. North Dakota's Millennium Cross was made by Gary Just, a modern day cross maker of the Great Plains and a proud descendant of the Germans from Russia.
- Two nights, I didn't sleep. Thinking about it. Trying to figure out how I'm gonna do it. Most of the difficult part was torching the little pieces out. That was the hardest part because you gotta be awfully steady to do that. Plus you gotta grind it and get everything smooth and get it right. I'll make more crosses. I'd like to do that. For my parents, I'm gonna build some of them metal crosses when they're gone, so. Maybe for myself, but I don't want to do that too fast.
- [Tim] The iron crosses and their characteristic patterns and motifs continue to live on in other types of folk art.
- The iron cross tradition is by no means dead. Many traditions go through ebb and flow. They become very popular or very prominent, and then they kind of hit a low point. But the iron cross tradition is definitely not dead. There are younger people who are taking a real interest in the cross tradition, but they will modify it. They will modify it to fit today's reality. They may not make the cross for a cemetery. They may make it for a decorative purpose for in a person's house. The crosses may be used by quilters in their designs. I really don't see the cross tradition dying at all. I really do see it continuing in some form with metal as a medium, but also morphing into many other different types of folk arts.
- [Storyteller] You'd have thought all hell broke loose when Tony and me got hitched up. He was German-Russian. I was Ukrainian. His parents shook their heads when they saw us. My own brothers and sisters snubbed us. But Tony and me, we had each other and we took comfort in that. And we had 10 children. They were half German, half Ukrainian. So we called them our geraniums. An old iron cross marks our resting place. Now we are one with the grass and the sky. Sometimes one of our children visits and leaves a Ukrainian Easter egg. Oh, it adds color to this sad patch of prairie. Yes, our life had its share of sadness, but things turned out all right. You see, God blessed us with geraniums.
- [Tim] In Western North Dakota, a German-Russian mother and her daughter learned how to make Ukrainian Easter eggs from a Ukrainian neighbor. Their teacher also happens to be the daughter of a Ukrainian cross maker.
- Yeah, he was a blacksmith. That's why he was making these iron crosses. He would heat the iron and when the iron is heated red hot, it bend so easy and that's the way he was making all these designs on the crosses is by heating it and with the hammer and what else he had. A lot of patterns had that kind of a cross. And when I was making the eggs like that, a lot of them said, "Oh, these are just like Ukrainian crosses they used to make." And that made me interested in trying and to make them always.
- [Edward] "Toiling, rejoicing, sorrowing, Onward through life he goes; Each morning sees some task begin, Each evening sees it close; Something attempted, something done, Has earned a night's repose. Thanks, thanks to thee, my worthy friend, For the lesson thou hast taught! Thus at the flaming forge of life Our fortunes must be wrought; Thus on its sounding anvil shaped Each burning deed and thought."
- [Tim] There is growing appreciation for iron crosses today, but most of the people who stop and look at these unusual markers can only wonder about their meaning or the artists who once made them. Cemetery visitors are intrigued by the iron crosses and sometimes the visitors stand there for a long time as if straining to hear what the iron crosses have to say. Children play in the graveyards of their ancestors and rest in the shadows cast by the iron crosses. They seem unconcerned with the past or memorials to the dead. Perhaps, that is as it should be. They are young. But the day may come when the same children grow older and they too will stand in a cemetery and wonder what it all means. They may need to experience personal loss of their own before they truly understand. The day may even come when they strain to hear one of the thousand prairie voices that echo from as many prairie crosses.
- [Cross Maker] "Why do you put angels on your crosses? Why do you paint your crosses blue? The questions people would ask. Oh, it's all right to be curious. Don't get me wrong. But I'm still kind of surprised that folks noticed that I made any crosses at all. Well, I guess I wanted my crosses to lift you up, to help you as you struggled along. And so I hope they give you comfort and I hope they bring you peace. And most of all, I hope they fill your heart with happiness and song. Yeah, yeah. With happiness and song.
- Iron crosses can be found in many parts of the Great Plains region. As distinctive works of folk art, they are as varied and widespread as their makers. In your travels, if you should come upon iron crosses that have been damaged or vandalized, please contact the local cemetery caretaker or the state historical society. The iron crosses of the prairie are an important part of our shared heritage and our common past. Let us hope these uncommon prairie crosses will be a part of our common future as well.
- [Announcer] Funding provided by the North Dakota Council On the Arts, which receives funding from the state legislature and the National Endowment for the Arts, the North Dakota Humanities Council, the North Dakota State University Libraries, and the members of Prairie Public.
