Exit visas and immigration papers were arranged through aqents representing the Brotherhood. They chartered the steamship "Switzerland", flying the flag of the International Navigation Company, to bring 800 Ukrainian Mennonites to the shores of America. It was up to each family to get to the port of embarkation at Antwerp, Belgium by June eighth. On May six a formal farewell was held in the Ruckenau Church. It was an occasion none who attended could ever forget. At one point, those leaving (representing half of the congregation) rose to their feet to pledge loyalty to Christ, come what may. Those remaining in "mother Russia" responded by rising to pledge to do the same at home. A tearful "Liebesmal" followed the service.3 Many said their good-byes for ever. Then they returned home to say more intimate farewells within the folds of families and friends. Some made plans to travel to Antwerp all the way by train, back tracking the routes of their ancestors. Others decided to first go to Moscow by train, and then from there to the Baltic port of Riga, and then by boat to Antwerp. The two Wiens [brothers Jacob & Franz] families chose the latter.
 
 

Jacob and Maria's last days on their Grossweide farm were crowded with pragmatic activities, allowing little time for anxieties. Livestock and farm equipment were sold with the farm except for grandpa's best plowshare and his blacksmith tools. These he packed into a waterproof box along with well protected packets of seeds to take with him to America. Quilts and winter clothing were packed in homemade trunks. Family treasures, tableware and cooking utensils were tucked between layers of soft goods. These boxes were nailed shut and taken to Halbstadt well ahead of departure time where a committee of the Brethren loaded them onto a freight train consigned to bring the combined possessions of the departing Mennonites to the Atlantic port of embarkation.
 
 

Maria bundled the family's extra clothing needed for the long journey in large squares of homespun woolens which could serve as bedding en route Jacob carried these. Gerhardt carried the food basket4, Marichen was put in charge of the two small boys, Pete and Jake. Maria, with a pillowcase of roasted zwieback over one shoulder and Baby Franz in her arms kept track of everyone. Everything was in order, but beneath her outward serenity lurked fears of the vast unknown, and they were many.
 
 

The gently flowing river from which Molotchna got its name was still shrouded in mist on this morning in May when Jacob got dressed and went quietly out the kitchen door. In the east, the distant hills of Azof were barely discernible, silhouetted against the first glow of dawn. Maria got up24 to light the wood stove to prepare their last breakfast. Then she went to the front room to kneel at the window overlooking the orchard. They would not be here to harvest the fruit. Her eyes caressed the four patches of sod covering the bones of her children whose souls would one day be waiting for her in Heaven. Some of the forgotten pain came back. Then she remembered her living children in the other room, and prayed God to protect them on the Journey into the unknown. A long shadow crossed her view. It was Jacob, her beloved life mate, returning from the far end of the meadow. The first rays of the sun seemed to pierce his back, as if urging him on to a new beginning. She hastily went to waken her sleeping children.
 
 

As the heavily loaded wagon rumbled down the road, Maria did not look back. She thought of Lot's wife. How hard it must have been for her too.5 A farewell feast awaited them at the old family home in Sparrau. Belongings were sorted and repacked, leaving all but essentials behind. The two brothers consolidated their baggage into one wagon.
 
 

The next morning the two sisters-in-law and their little ones drove ahead in the carriage Franz had built for his family a few years back. The older children rode on the wagon with the men. Jacob's and Franz's brother Abe and their father went along to bring back the carriage and the wagon. There was one more stopover at Maria's brother's, Uncle Herman Friesen's in Margenau. Then the home ties were broken. From the half door of the boxcar the families of Jacob and Franz Wiens waved a final farewell as did other families from other boxcars and from passenger cars ahead. As the steam engine pulled the uprooted pilgrims northward toward Moscow, a gray curtain followed the last car to obliterate any hope of return.
 
 

To the villagers from rural Ukraine, the bright lights of Moscow were exciting, and its large buildings impressive. Maria and her pregnant sister-in-law and other women explored the cavernous railroad station with their children while their box cars were being switched to a train going west. The men folk went off to sightsee around the city. No one questioned the assumption that this was as it should be.25
 
 

The voyage from Riga through the choppy waters of the Baltic Sea was uneventful. It took eight days to reach their destination. They were never out of sight of land. An occasional squall churned a few queasy stomachs. At Amsterdam the little steamer disgorged an astonishing number of passengers. There was both awe and relief as their feet touched the ground in a country sacred to Mennonite History.
 
 

Their emissaries who had gone ahead were there to greet them. Lodging in barns and warehouses was provided for those who could not afford to stay in public inns. Deacons and deaconesses from local Mennonite Churches brought food for the weary travelers. Here they could rest until it was time to begin their voyage across the Atlantic Ocean.
 
 

On the morning of the sailing, caravans of Dutch Mennonite wagons took the sojourners and their belongings to the pier at Antwerp where the SS Switzerland rode high on the water that splashed the pilings. The SS Switzerland was a small ship by today's standards for oceangoing passenger liners, but the Mennonite children gazed in awe as their parents assured each other that such a ship could weather the Atlantic storms they might encounter. The passenger list numbered seven hundred twenty six Mennonites: men, women and children. About half of them were "rebaptized" Brethren.6 Their leader was Abraham Schellenberg.
 
 

On board ship a caste system evolved almost immediately. The wealthy went first or second class and became segregated from their brethren. Jacob and Franz booked themselves and their families into 'Steerage'. What little money they had would be needed to buy land in America. The women and children in steerage spent their days in the cramped quarters of the multipurpose dining room that separated the port and starboard dormitories, one for men and boys and one for women and children. Occasionally they ventured to the aft deck, just above the roaring propellers whose blades whipped the sea into salty foam. Mothers kept their children in close tether. As usual, the smallest deck served the largest number of passengers.
 
 

The dismal surroundings spawned sporadic friction, especially where it concerned children. But it also forged a common bond to give mutual support during times of crisis. Consensual observance of "quiet" and "lights out" in the dormitory areas gave adults respite from children and a time for Worship, and adult conversations. On the third evening, after the children were supposedly asleep, a small voice sobbed: "I want to go home". Soon there were other sobs, and before long mournful wails tore back and forth from one side of the dormitory to the other. As my Grandmother recalled a half century later, "Sharp pangs of homesickness pierced our hearts as we listened to the cries of our Children." In the midst of this, a "sister" who was blessed with the voice of an angel began to sing "Des Heiland's lieb"7. The sobbing subsided as she led into "Meine Heimat is dort in der Hoeh". One by one the children joined in. In place of competing wails the two sides of the dorm echoed each other's "in der Hoeh". Then the sister sang "So nim den meine Haende"8, and closed with a familiar lullaby. My grandmother sighed: The silence that followed was that of "A peace that paste understanding" She added: "I wonder how the children in first and second class coped with their 'Heim Weh' in their separate cabins."
 
 

As the SS Switzerland reached mid-Atlantic it ran into a fearsome storm. The ship tossed and rolled so that children had to be either held or strapped onto their bunks to prevent their being thrown about. No one ventured onto the wave swept deck. Portholes and hatches were doubly fastened. The pillowcase of dry roasted zwieback which had been providentially hoarded was now brought out and shared and gratefully nibbled when nothing else would stay down. On the second night of the storm Franz's wife went into premature labor. The ship's log recorded the event as follows: "Helen Wiens,#106, wife of Franz delivered a stillborn child, June 17, 1879, at 11 pm. The sorrow of the bereaved family was cushioned by the supportive prayers and hymns of the entire 'kinship of the Steerage'.

___________________________

1. Mr. Schellenberq was only thirty when when he was ordained as elder. Although he was younger than many of his constituency at that time, they held him in high esteem, and looked to him for Spiritual guidance. He possessed the qualities needed by the Brotherhood at his period of their history.
2. It is sad to relate that among their own people there were profiteers who took unfair advantage of fleeing Mennonite families. Many land sales were under-priced. J.J Friesen. writes of his recollection of his family's "Trauma of Exile". "When father sold everything: his house, wagon, horses, etc, it was understood that the buyer would take us to the railroad station. He went back on his word. I remember that last morning when our parents, my older brother and sister and I left on foot from our home in Margenau. It was the home my parents first established and had lived in ever since. Father carried our cases ahead. We three children walked silently along. Mother quietly followed behind and cried."
3. Our Mennonite forebears held love feasts for almost any occasion, much like the potlucks of today.28
4. The ingenuity of the Mennonite women in preserving food for future needs as born of necessity. Dried cheeses and "twice roasted" zwieback and dried fruits, ready to eat, were the staples. Meat, salted and smoked and dried was valued as we o jerky today. Cooked meat, especially sausage, was wrapped in unleavened dough and backed until charred. The charcoal wrapping was peeled off when the meat was needed.

 

 

5. Genesis 19:11

 

 

6. The term "Brethren" was inclusive of women.

 

 

7. "Des Heiland's Lieb, dies Heilige band, umschling dein Herz fort an; vertrau auf Ihn in deinem schmerz, sein Wort verheiz dir ruh." Roughly translates to: "The Savior's love this holy bond, wrap around your heart. Trust in Him in your sorrow, His words will bring you peace."

 

 

8. "So nimm denn meine Haende, und Fuhre michbis an mein selig ende und ewiglich.Ich kann allein nicht gehen, nicht einen Schritt. Wo du wirst geh'n und stehen, danimm mit." Roughly translated: "Take my hand, and lead me on till my blessed end, to eternity. I cannot go alone, not a single step. Wherever you lead or stay, take me with you."

June twenty-fourth began for the crew and some passengers of the ship with a beam of light flashing from a lighthouse on the New Jersey coast. Jacob dressed and climbed the stairs to the B deck. Others were there ahead of him. Excited communication between decks told him that the artificial barriers of caste had evaporated. The early risers maintained their watch on the forward A and B decks. At daybreak, the ship's engines slowed to accommodate the shallows at the mouth of the Delaware River. Word was passed down from the first mate that it would be two hours before the tide would be high enough to let them proceed up river, and two more hours to reach Philadelphia, and another hour at the dock for 'health quarantine' before any one could set foot on land.
 
 

Mothers saw to it that the children ate a hearty breakfast for who knows when their next meal might be.1 They were clothed in their Sunday best. Little boys were warned to stay clean. Then the older siblings, holding onto the hands of younger ones, were permitted to join their fathers in exploring the ship which until then had been out of bounds to steerage passengers. Hearts beat fast with excitement when finally the tall buildings of Philadelphia loomed promisingly above the heavily laden ship. Philadelphia, "City of Love", symbol of their religious commitment! An atmosphere of hope and enthusiasm came ashore with these new arrivals to America.
 
 

A welcoming committee of the Brethren was there to greet them in the name of President Hayes and to guide them to the heartland of the United States and to help them through immigration red tape. Representatives of competing railroads were on hand to offer reduced fares to encourage settlement along their respective routes. Jacob and Franz Wiens said goodbye to shipmates taking the Atchison Topeka and Santa Fe Railroad to Kansas. They and their families rode the Burlington to the Nebraska frontier.
 
 

They found temporary housing in the barrack-like "Immigrant House" provided by the railroad company. (It stood for many years, located beside the mainline tracks two miles from the town of Henderson). On Sunday there was a reception after the Morning service at the Henderson MB Church to welcome the newly arrived pilgrims. While the women shared their food, seeds, seedlings and baby chicks, the men talked about ways and means to acquire land, livestock and farm equipment. The brethren who were knowledgeable about government land and homesteading procedures offered to help with negotiations. Some spoke enough English to be interpreters.
 
 

Only those who have tilled the soil for a living can understand the land hunger which possessed my grandfather, Jacob Wiens, after they reached their destination. He went the very next day with the agents of the railroad to look over their subdivided holdings. Within two weeks he had committed nearly all the money he had brought from Russia. He told his wife that they would have to live on what he could earn from blacksmithing and whatever she and the children could glean from the already harvested fields until the next season's harvest. They now owned eighty acres of farm land in Hamilton County, only eight miles from Henderson. Forty acres of it was virgin land bought from the Burlington Railroad at $4.00/ acre. They paid twice that for the adjacent forty acres of partially cultivated land (to earlier settlers desiring to move to Kansas to be closer to relatives). His brother Franz also bought land in Hamilton county.
 
 

On the cultivated portion of their holdings was a two room sod house built into a hillock. They moved into it as soon as the former owners moved out. It had a small barn at a lower place downwind. A row of cottonwood pointed the way to a fifty foot deep well. There were no tears of disappointment from Maria. There had been no words of complaint during their grueling ten weeks of homeless wanderings. Now they were at last again on their own farm. Somehow they would get by until their first harvest.