Chapter One

Harry Koch (cook), my father, was the youngest of 10 children. Peter and Marie, father and mother of this brood, were immigrant Germans. They came to the US in the late 1800's from Russia and arrived at Ellis Island with at least of 3 of their first born. I wish I knew all the details of their struggles but do know they began migrating to the West by working in the fields across the Midwest. Dad was born in Rochester, Wyoming and was a small boy when his father was able to purchase land in Billings, Montana. They raised sugar beets, barley and wheat. Much hard work and most done by old world methods. Water was pulled from a well and heated on a coal and wood stove. Clothes were washed on washboards and hung on wire clothes lines strung between wooden supports resembling crosses. I was born in 1942 and much of my early childhood remembers how hard and stiff the clothes were and how uncomfortable they felt until the warmth of my body would soften them. Old habits are hard to break so old world customs remained in effect. Gosh, this might just be too difficult to write. So much happened. Lots of which is unpleasant to recall.