Knute B. Aker
by Bernice Megard Aker

 
Many years ago I used to read and enjoy the stories in the Reader's Digest "The Most Unforgettable Character I Have Known." As the years passed, I realized that I, too, had someone to write about that truly fit such a title.
This was no ordinary person. The circumstantial happenings in his life were evident in our early acquaintanceship. When I was nearly seven years of age, he held me on his knee and, softly petting me, said, "This is the little girl who will take care of me when I am old." How truly spoken, because I eventually married his son and he frequently reminded me of this incident throughout the years I helped care for and to manage him.
The grandfather of my children was a lean, six-foot-two-inch, raw-boned, rugged individual with extremely large hands on a strong body with a strong mind and a strong will. His blue eyes and freckled complexion truly belonged to his auburn-red hair. At age 25 he became seriously ill with typhoid fever, causing his hair to fall out. When it came back in it was quite dark and without the redness.
His personality was unique and very unpredictable. I often asked myself, "What is there about this man who at times could make you so angry at him, and yet before you knew it, you were loving him so much? How could he be so difficult and obstinate and then again so easy and agreeable?" The extremes shown in his being frugal, at times to the point of frustration, and yet liberal beyond anyone's imagination. His hospitality greatly reflected his generosity. His hot temper, that would often put him to bed for a rest during periods of farming pressures, gave us the many memories of his middle age. He was one who called a spade a spade.
This man had a great influence on the lives of my children. I'm sure he inspired them with his motto "Hard work never hurt anyone," and they knew full well he could not tolerate a "quitter."
After my husband and I made a treip to Norway in 1972 and learned more about his background and, as I grow older, I am more able to understad this personage.
Knud Bernt Aaker was born on July 13, 1864, in Aaker, Hjorundfjord, Norway. His parents were Bernt J. (1823-1896) and Bertha Marie (Aklestad) Aaker (1826-1926). Six children were born to the union, namely: Anna, Martha, John, Caroline, Knud, and Bertha.
It was a custom in Norway for boys to add "son" or "sen" to their father's first name (making Berntson). They could also take the name of the farmstead, which Knud did- therefore Aaker. When he obtained his U.S. citizenship, his name was changed to Knute B. Aker.
In 1883 (age 19) after finishing his limited education in Norway, he and brother John left their native land to come to America. By so doing, they both relinquished their rights to take over the family farm, along with the care of the parents. The first right went to the oldest son, then to the second son and on down to the eldest daughter, Anna. She obtained the farm and kept the parents until their deaths, the mother living to be 100 years and 1 month.
The brothers first located in Minnesota but, after a few months, decided to strike out for the "Great West." John settled on the Olympic peninsula where he took up a homestead and lived out his 85 years of bachelorhood, content with his meager accomplishments.
Knute came to Whatcom County on April 11, 1883, six years before Washington became a state. He worked on farms for three years. His first job was with W.D. Van Buren of the Van Buren district, near what is now Everson. After seven months, he found work with David Wight and other farmers in the same area. He also worked in the first hop fields.
It was through an early acquaintance, Andrew Benson of Lynden, that he heard of a parcel of land along the Nooksack River, available for homesteading. Early arrivals had the pick of the land and many chose the rich land of the Nooksack River valley. This land was also accessible by river, making it easier to get supplies in by canoe or rowboat.
One evening while in his upstairs room in the farmhouse where he worked, Knute overheard adult voices planning to file a claim on this same piece of land he had his eye on. They were leaving at daybreak to make sure they would be the first at the courthouse in Whatcome (what is now Bellingham) when the doors opened. Knute never even went to bed, but instead, started walking from what is now Everson, located some 14 miles away from Whatcom. Sure enough, he was the first person there and so it was on this day, April 14, 1886, K.B. Aker, age 21 years, filed on his 152 acres of land. It was located in the Ferndale township some five miles south and west of Lynden on what is now known as the West Wiser Lake Road.
There were two ways of acquiring land in the early days: homesteading and pre-emption claim. Homesteaders had to live on their homesteads six months out of each year, build a house, make other improvements, and could "prove up" in five to seven years. After that, they would receive a patent from the government. Pre-emption claims required no residence and, in six months, $1.25 per acre was paid the government for the patent. Many single men homesteaded the best land and also selected pre-emption claims some distace away, which they sold to the early settlers who were not homesteaders. As there were no improvements on these claims, purchasers were in reality "Pioneers." (This information was taken from "Early History of Ferndale and Ten Mile Township, Whatcom County, Washington," by Chris C. Siegel.
The pre-emption claim of Jacob Weiser, for whom Wiser Lake was named (spelling changed by petition) was located in the corner of what is now the Old Guide and West Wiser Lake Road. In 1883 William Dorr purchased this claim and settled on it with his family. Among them was a daughter, Anna Josephine, called "Josie."
As Knute walked down the trail in search for his land, he met this little nine-year-old Josie. He asked if she might know the location of his claim. "Oh, yes!" she said. "I'll show you," and she took him three-fourths of a mile further down the trail to the first curve in what is now the West Wiser Lake Road. Neither knew then that their paths would cross again and again in later life.
His newly qcquired land laid from a ridge of high ground into the Nooksack River valley. It was covered with brush, stumps, large spruce and cedar trees that had to be cleared by this Norwegian immigrant. He was hardy and full of ambition, knowing full well of poverty. He was of the kind who could stand the rigor and hardships that the pioneers had to endure.
Knute always talked about how friendly the Indians were to him. He learned to speak a little "Chinook" with the Nooksacks, which was a great aid in communicating. During the period that he built his homestead barn near the river, he desperately needed help to raise the rafters and heavy timbers. Work was halted, waiting for the Indians to come up the river in their canoes so they could give a hand. They were always eager to help. All ate together, with the Indians furnishing the fish, and often they would trade their fish for Knute's potatoes and other vegetables.
Besides clearing his land and building the house and barn, he worked hard at many other jobs to make an income. We still have his dehorning tool, weighing about 40 pounds, that he carried on his back, walking from farm to farm as far as the Nooksack Crossing, now know as Everson. He would cut the horns off of cattle for five cents per horn.
He talked of the neighborliness and cooperation of neighbors when they gathered to help with needed projects. These were called "Bees," such as barn raising, shingling, and quilting bees.
Occasionally young men out of work would stay with Knute and help to clear land for their room and board.
In the later part of the summers, the pioneers would gather on homestead picnic grounds, bringing their tents and supplies for a week-long outing. There was much visiting and getting acquainted, public speaking (mostly political), and dancing in the evenings. He also went to the Odd Fellows Lodge in Lynden, and a literary club in his cummunity. Dances provided much entertainment. He often told of the time he had worked terribly hard all week, then had gone to a dance on Saturday night. Getting home late, he went to bed exhausted, sleeping straight through Sunday and Sunday night. On Monday morning the neighbor was alerted when Knute's cows were bawling from lack of attention. He went over and awakened him and, to his surprise, he had lost over a day to sleeping.
In the early days, the majority of the men were single and there were few white women of marriageable age. Some married Indian women and they were called "Squaw men." Othrs found "mail-order brides" from east of the Rockies.
When Knute was thirty years old, he fell madly in love with the same Josie Dorr, who was then but 17 years old. He never quite forgave a neighbor, Mrs. McClosky, who advised him to never marry such a young girl, as she wouldn't be able to boil water. Later Josie married Beorge H. Griffith and settled only two miles from Knute's homestead on the present East Wiser Lake Road. The Guide Meridian divides the Wiser Lake Road into east and west sides.
Through a neighbor, Knute started writing to a Florence McLean in Wyoming. After several months, he went for her. She arrived on a Saturday in February, 1897, and on the following Wednesday they were married under the fruit trees just south of Cougar (now Wiser Lake) Creek on the Woodlyn Road. Knute's life's dream was to carve out a farm for his family and, because she could not bear children, the marriage was terminated after six years.
The first homestead house and barn were near the river. A second set of farm buildings was located midway on his farm. In 1904 he built a very modern house, locating it on the highest point of the ridge overlooking the Nooksack River valley, and out of the flood plain. The view was spectacular from the kitchen windows and a lookout on top of the roof. The material used was of the best, as was the workmanship. It contained all the desirable conveniences for the times.
Knute was comfortably well off by 1906 and able to rent his farm out for a year, so he could return to his native Norway. He took with him much knowledge and experience as a succuessful beef, dairy, and crop farmer. To the surprise of the old villagers in Aaker, he was able to convince his mother to allow him to plow up some the old farmstead and seed it into timothy grass. (He had taken the seed back with him.) Immediately the older, neighboring farmers came, begging the mother to send her son back to America, because plowing up the land would surely bankrupt her. Even the great results may never have convinced them, because they wouldn't adjust to a sudden change. However, he did set a precedent in changing methods of farming that had been followed for hundreds of years.
He revisited his birthplace, that records show to be 600 years old. It stood by the water for 400 years and, 200 years ago, was moved to it present location. It was made of hewn timbers covered by boards, with a sod roof underlined with birch bark. The 4" x 12" overhead support beam haad become an obstacle, since he had attained his full growth and he kept bumping his head. However, se solved that by sawing away four inches out of the beam. It has since become a conversation piece, after his birthplace was turned into a museum.
Before he left Norway, Knute married a neighbor girl, Elizabeth, whose parents were Jacob and Johanna Bjerke. He brought her back with him to her new home. They had two children: Bessie, born in 1908, and Jacob (Jack) in 1910. Because of his age of 44 years before starting a family, and being of the school of hard work and hard knocks, it wasn't always easy for either he, his wife, or the children. They learned early that work came first and play, much later. In spite of this, they have many enjoyable recollections of their youth.
Knute's first car was a Model-T, 1910 Ford. He later owned several other makes- but never drove a car after 1928.
In 1913, a large, well-arranged dairy barn was erected and in 1914, two good silos. In the early days most barns and outbuildings were painted read, trimmed in white. Knute was the first to dare a change by painting his barn white, trimming it in dark green. Later it was copied by many as his modern, all-white buildings and white fences became a show place.
He was the first farmer in Whatcom County to successfully raise alfalfa on river-front ground.
Knute had a strong liking for electrical equipment. In 1917 he installed a complete electrical system for his house and barn. It was one of the first in the country. In the early 1920's he installed an electrical plant to be used for irrigation, thereby increasing his farm's productivity.
In later years he hired some of his land clearing done. Eventually, he sold off part of the higher ground of his homestead and ended up with 100 acres of cleared land, all of which was under cultivation.
The farm operation was diversified and, in the twenties, Knute milked 25 purebred, milking Shorthorns and Holstein cows. He also raised hay grass, potatoes, sugar beets, and kept a large flock of Oxford-Down sheep. He, at that time, owned a Holstein bull whose grand-dam was sold for $12,500.00
Knute was an advocate of good roads and served as a road supervisor for many years. There was a beautiful wooded area between what is now the Ritter Road and Northwest Drive. He cleared out the timber for the road and called it "Lovers' Land."
In 1924 he sent his wife and son Jack to Norway to spend the summer. He and Bessie remained to care for the farm. The plans were for them to go in 1926. Because of seasickness, Bessie canceled out, but she and her husband did make the trip in 1967 by jet. This was Knute's second trip back to his homeland and, while there, both his aged mother and mother-in-law passed away.
When the crash came in 1929, much of his savings was lost. His wife, Elizabeth, who had been raised on a farm and accustomed to milking cows, worked hard right along with him. As they prospered, they saved, and it was losing this hard-earned money that dealt such a blow.
Knute came very nearly being gored to death by his "pet" bull in 1930. He would often whow people how the bull would put his nose ring on his finger. One day this gentle bull attacked Knute out on the high land. Jack ran with a pitchfork, jabbing it deeply into the bull's neck, causing him to run away. He then was able to pull his dad under a fence and save his life.
The bull had trampled and thrown him until he was critically injured, with little hope for his recovery. He was put into a body cast which was very uncomfortable, due to swelling. After a few days Knute convinced the doctor to open the sides of the cast, using straps to aid in releasing pressure. It wasn't long before the cast was off and under his bed. When he returned home, the cast ended up in the closet. All of these actions were against doctor's orders, as he was expected to be in it for a long time. Amazingly, he soon recovered and was hard at work again.
Many fishermen have parked on "Aker's Corner" and walked across his farm to the river. He always enjoyed visiting and often they would leave him a fish. His hospitality was generated from the early days and he was always inviting any and everyone into the house to join in family meals.
The Aker family grew in the 1930's. Bessie married D. J. Barnett in 1931. After 32 years in the Navy, he retired a Lieutenant Commander, setting in Seattle. Jack and I were married in 1934 and tood roots here on the homestead.
Over the years we gave Knute three Barnetts - Damon James II, Elizabeth, and Benjamin Herbert - and six Akers - Jacqueline, Annette, Kay B, Dennis, Judy, and Janice. This group has given hime many great - and great-great-grandchildren. He became Grandpa Aker to us all and so now will address him as such.
Another jolt came in June, 1938, when they lost their newly-remodeled farmhouse by fire. Very little was saved and while they lived in a chicken house throughout the summer, a new, modern home was constructed on the same site, ready to move into by fall. Even this traumatic loss did not cause these courageous people to give up. They milked cows and farmed until 1950.
After Grandmother Aker passed away in 1952, Grandpa continued living on his homestead. We children found that he was very unhappy living in a family environment. Therefore, he stayed in his own home and ate his main meal with us.
When Josie Griffith became a widow late the same year, their friendship was renewed. Grandpa started visiting her in the evenings, so family and friends wouldn't find out. He walked the two iles, using his flashlight. It wasn't until he was constantly needing flashlight batteries that we became suspicious. After the secret was out, he began courting in earnest, riding his little "Mighty Might" tractor to visit her. Late in January, 1954, Grandpa became seriously ill with pneunonia and was hospitalized. Late on Sunday we received a call from the doctor saying he didn't expect Grandpa to live through the night. As we were snowed in, we couldn't get to the hospital until early Monday morning, when we followed a snowplow out to the highway. Upon reaching the hospital, we found him in critical condition. Barely able to talk, he requested his granddaughter to take a message to Josie. When the answer came back "Yes, she would marry him," he immediately improved and was home on the weekend. There he tried desperatlely to gain his strength s he could be married right away. Too weak to walk, he could be married right away. Too weak to walk, he kept pushing Jack to take him to Bellingham for his marriage license. Jack finally had to issue an ultimatum: "I'll take you as soon as you can go under your own power!"
And so it was that on February 14, 1954, Granddad Aker, at 89 years of age, was married to Josie, then 76 years old - a span of 67 years since they had first met, and their marriage lasted for eleven years, until his death.
Josie continued to live on the homestead following his death for a period of several years, after which she moved to be close to her son. She passed away at the age of 97 years.
When Grandpa was over 90 years, he fell in his home, breaking his hip. After a short stay in the hospital, he was allowed to go home, if he could handle himself, thereby freeing Josie of any lifting. By using a monkey bar that hung over his bed, he was able to lift himself out of bed into his wheelchair and vice versa. In three months I took him to Lynden for a ride. When I was in a store, he got away from me. I found him walking on Font Street, showing his friends that he was circulating again and walking very well.
Possibly the best story I can tell on Grandpa Aker was about a pair of bedroom slippers. After eight years of use, with Grandpa constantly patching and sewing them, he decided to shop for new ones. He was in his 99th year when I took him back to Lynden Department Store (where he bought them) to look for the same dark corduroy, soft-soled slippers. He wanted to go alone, so I waited for him in the car, parked across the street. I saw him coming with two shoe boxes under his arm. Before I could say anything, he laughingly said, "Would you believe it! I found the exact same slippers and they were on sale. By jiminy, I bought two pairs so I wouldn't run out."
Over the years, his favorite gatherings were the Clam Diggers at Lynden and the Old Settlers' Picnic in Ferndale. In later years he renewed his Lutheran faith, into which he was born.
Grandpa used to seriously lecture the young people, and especially the granddaughters' boyfriends, on the hazards of smoking. First reason was because of health, and secondly, the effects on the pocketbook. This was good advice, coming from a reformed tobacco chewer, cigar, cigarette, and pipe smoker.
Grandpa loved birthday parties on himself, so when he reached 100 years, the four of us children planned an open house. Fearing it would be too hard on them to have it in their home, we all worked very hard the day before preparing the neighborhood hall. The morning of the party, Granddad changed his mind and wanted it on his front lawn under the large, old walnut trees. He made it clear that if we wouldn't go for that, he didn't want a part. Naturally, we all raced against time to bring in chairs, tables, dished- and really it all turned out so great on that warm, sunny, July day. A baker in Seattle who had made a number of birthday cakes for Grandpa, had always promised him a gift of one on his 100th birthday. That he did, decorating it beautifully with all the names of Knute's descendants on it. It was enjoyed by so many, many friends and relatives.
What an amazing many at 100 years of age. He was still able to take long walks to the river (one-fourth mile each way), chop wood, and he could read without glasses. In fact, he never ver used prescription eye glasses. At times he only needed magnifying lenses, so always bought his glasses at the dime store.
One of Grandpa's sincere wishes was to live a long as his mother. When he passed the 100 years pluse one month, we noticed a gradual "giving up."
That same fall while Josie and I were in Lynden one day, Grandpa had gone out in the front yard to cout some weeds with his small scythe. He had fallen and couldn't get up, so he dragged himself about 75 feet. We found him on the cement at the rear of his ghouse, near the first step. The shock took its toll and he became more and more immobile.
Later, the doctor thiought we should send him to the hospital for bone checkup. We called the ambulance from the mortuary in Lynden. When the mortician, Fred Veroske, and attendant came in to take him, Grandpa was sitting in his big recliner. He was wearing a heavy stocking cap on his head and largely covered with a blanket. Se suffered greatly from the cold in the winter, so grew a beard to keep his face warm and most always wore a stocking cap to keep his balding head warm.
He cooperated to be put onto the gurney, but when they threw the white sheet over him, he revolted. He wasn't "ready for the morgue yet," so he said. When they started to wheel the gurney into the ambulance, he again bucked. If he couldn't be put in feet first, he wasn't going at all. He said, "If I'm paying for this ride, I'm going to see where I'm Going, not where I've been." Mr. Veroske shook his head and admitted he had never run into a problem like that before. Hiding heir chuckles, they gave in and let hime have his way, even though the gurney could not be safely fastened in this rverse position. The ended up tying the gurney down with a rope.
The examination, testing, and x-rays showed no serious problem, but only effects of old age. After a short stay in the hospital, he was moved to Somerset Rest Home in Bellingham where he peacefull passed away on January 29, 1965. His later years in his extreme old age were not always pleasant for him, sor for any of us. Impaaired circulation and small strokes caued periods of illusions, suspicion, and imagination.
There is a monument in the front yeard of his homestead, under which he buried his first tools. A plaque on an obelisk raised there says:
"This stone stands to mark the earth where a Norwegian youth, Knute B. Aker, established his homestead April 14, 1886, and struck with axe, strength, and vision to turn a wilderness into productive soil. Through the year, with the help of God, sturdy strength and determination, he realized his dream; produced a life marked by abundaance aand happiness as he marched forward with America. In 1950 Knute Aker retired and leaves this menorial to remind the youth of today that the future is bright and the heart a willing ally for those with the will to do."
As he had planned, Granddad divided his property between his two children. There is only one third-generation farmer, his namesake grandson, Kay B. He operates a large dairy farm adjoining us and rents much of the old homestead.
Mother Aker played a large part in dad Aker's accomplishments in later years. We sincerely appreciate with deep gratitude all they did for us nd allowing us to possess the fruits of their labors.
Jack has lived his entire lifetime of 71 years on the family farm. When we were married, he moved from his birthplace just across the fam into the home we have lived these 47 years.
We have chosen to retire on the old homestead that I feel, as Granddad Aker did, has become a part of me.

The above biography was written by By Bernice Megard Aker for publication in a book of "Early Settlers in Whatcom County".

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