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Johann Soukup
(Abt 1780-)
Anna Lehanka Soukup
(1777-)
Martin Lehanka
(Bef 1817-1901)
Barbara Draht Lehanka
Georg Soukup
(1805-)
Maria Lehanka Soukup
(1820-1901)

Andrew Sukup
(1853-1935)

 

Family Links

Spouses/Children:
Mary Sedivy Sukup

Andrew Sukup

  • Born: 23 Nov 1853, Hoslau, Germany
  • Marriage: Mary Sedivy Sukup on 12 Jul 1879
  • Died: 15 Oct 1935, Verdigre, NE at age 81
  • Buried: St. Wenceslaus Cemetery- Verdigre, NE
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bullet  General Notes:


The family name was spelled "Sukup" by Andrew and Wenzel. However family records of their brother Johann from Ronsperk, Bohemia spell the name "Soukup". We believe that Andrew and Wenzel changed the spelling. The name also could have been spelled differently from Port of Entry to America.
Andrew Sukup recalls early day experiences:
I was born in Bohemia on Nov. 23, 1853 in a small village called Harlan and our town was Ronsperk, that being where we went to church and school. When 13 years of age, I left school and started to learn the blacksmith trade. My father Georg Sukup had a small farm of about 80 acres. My brother was a soldier in the Austrian army for several years and after he had served his time, he and I made up our minds to try our luck in the land across the water--the United States.
On the 25th day of March 1870 we were given a farewell party by our friends and relatives. So the next day we packed our bundles and with great hopes and aspirations, left for our trip across the ocean. We boarded the steamship, Main, at Bremen, its port being New York. After a voyage of two weeks we reached New York, land how glad we were to be on solid ground once more. The last 12 days of the trip we saw nothing but sky and water and it got very monotonous.
We had no relatives in this country, so we did not know what direction to take. But we had heard of the saying, "Go west, young man", so we followed the young crowd west. We traveled from New York, day and night, to Chicago, Milwaukee and to St. Peter, Nicollet County, Minnesota. But we soon found that we had gone too far west to get work. The money we had with us was nearly gone and we were not used to begging. We spent a week looking for work and found none. We became homesick and began to think we had made a mistake in leaving Bohemia. The second week I got a job in a furniture factory at $6.00 per month. It was not much but I was satisfied. I worked hard from morning till night and at the end of three months the boss told me that from then on I was to receive $10.00 a month. The next year he gave me $15.00 a month and I was well satisfied. My brother Wenzel got a job on the railroad, and I stayed at the factory the largest part of the summer. Then hearing about fine homesteads in Nebraska, my brother Wenzel and I started for that state. I got a job in a Des Moines, Iowa brickyard but did not keep it long as I did not like the work. So I made up my mind to make another move, going to Omaha, Neb. This was at the time they built the first bridge across the Missouri river.
My brother had already taken up a homestead 4 miles northeast of Norfolk and I wanted to see him. I rode the Chicago & Northwestern railroad as far as West Point, Cumming County, that being the end of the line. From there, I made the rest of the journey on foot. I obtained work in Norfolk taking a job with Mr. Wezel, who had a blacksmith and wagon shop. This suited me very well, as I had learned the trade in Bohemia. We got along nicely, Norfolk at that time was a small village with a flour mill, a store, a small hotel, harness shop and blacksmith shop. This was in Sept. 1872.
This was the first time I ever saw grasshoppers thick enough to destroy all gardens, corn, and other crops. I had a good job but I wanted a farm of my own. There had been plenty of homesteads around Norfolk, but they had been taken up mighty fast. In the spring of 1873, my brother Wenzel and I went to look at some of these homesteads but the best were all gone so we had to go farther to get what we wanted --good land with timber and running water. This we found at Walnut on the Verdigre Creek. After we had selected our homesteads, we sought a surveyor to locate the section corners. My brother and I, the surveyor and two other men started on morning for the homesteads, a distance of about 15 miles. We took our dinner along and expected to be back by night. We had to cross creeks and streams and it took longer than we had planned upon.
We ate our dinner and late in the afternoon a big thunder storm came up and there was a terrific downpour of rain. It raised the creeks to such an extent that we could not get across for two days. We were trapped there with nothing to eat and no shelter--and our clothes were all wet. Our horses were all right; they had plenty of good grass to eat; but we could not eat grass. We had a coffee can with us and found some dry matches in our pockets. We managed to get a fire started and got warm and dry again. Then we were lucky enough to find a package of coffee in the wagon and enjoyed a drink of black coffee. The second day our stomachs got pretty empty so we rejoiced when the water went down and we could get across. The sloughs were so soft that as we drove through them, our horses got mired down and the wagon sank in so deep that we had to take it to pieces, carry it to solid land and set it up again. We finally reached the home of a settler and you may be sure that good food certainly tasted great to us after our two day fast. The nearest land office was in Sioux City, Iowa. We had no horses so we had to make the 100 miles on foot to file on our land. In the spring of 1874 we set out to buy a team of horses and a pair of oxen. We had to go all the way to West Point to get what we wanted. The worst of it was that our money gave out too soon and then the hard times began. It was pretty hard to earn a dollar, for the few homesteaders were all in the same boat. Our nearest neighbors were about 10 to 15 miles distant. That spring we broke up some land and planted it to corn. Everything we planted came up fine and we had big crops. We got very lonesome and so did our cow, oxen and horses. While we were breaking the sod, the cow would follow along behind us just like a colt follows its mother. We did not see a soul for six weeks or until we went to Norfolk. When we came back in the month of August, the grasshoppers came along in big swarms and our crop lasted but one hour. Our crops and our hopes were all gone for that year.
Now we had to find some work. There was plenty of grass but we could not live on that. My brother Wenzel went on foot to Des Moines, Iowa to find work. In the fall we put up a log house and then came the winter and it was a tough one. One morning we could not see sunlight and found to our surprise that we were buried in a snowbank 10 to 12 feet deep. We had to dig a tunnel in order to get out. Our house was not so very fancy. We had no stove and no money with which to buy one. We made a fireplace to cook and bake in and it worked pretty good but it was not very comfortable. Outside the house it was too cold and inside there was too much smoke. We could not get used to it. One cold winter day we were cutting wood along a stream and we saw a troupe of Indians come along and pitch their tents close to where we were working. In the evening when we went home it was dark and we lost our axe and saw. We decided to get up early in order to find them before the Indians found them. We thought if they picked them up we would never get our tools. It was sixty miles to a hardware store so their loss meant a lot to us on that account and also the fact that we had no money with which to buy new ones. But the Indians were earlier than we were; while I was preparing breakfast, someone knocked on the door and when I opened it I saw two Indians, one of them a squaw, with a pony loaded with blankets. On top of the load was our axe and saw and they gave them back to us. We invited them inside to have some breakfast with us and they gave a willing acceptance. After breakfast they left very peaceably. I told my brother that the Indians could not be as bad as we had heard from the settlers.
That morning we went back to chop more wood and we visited their camp. It was 10 below zero - yet we did not see any signs of a fire. I told my brother that we had it better with our corn bread and johnny cake than the Indians had; and we had a warm place to sleep. But we could not sleep very sound for fear that the Indians would kill and scalp us some night. We could not look for much help from the neighbors for they were too far away.
The next year we tried our luck again. That was in 1875. We had no seed and the nearest place to get it was Norfolk, over sixty miles away. There was no road for over 30 miles and the rest of it was poor. There was lots of snow that winter and it did not leave until late; also it got very cold. In the middle of March we sowed our wheat, hoping for a good crop. In May we planted our corn, sorghum cane and potatoes. All our crops grew nicely until the middle of July when the grasshoppers came down from the north in vast swarms. There came a strong south wind and they stayed with us for ten days; then the wind shifted to the north again and the hoppers left. When they were gone, there was not a leaf on a tree and most of the grass was gone. All they left us was our sorghum cane. I got a mill and made four barrels of sorghum molasses, intending to sell it and buy clothing and shoes, but our plan did not work out. One evening I saw a light shine in the southwest. It was a very windy night and in a short time the whole country was on fire. All I could save was two horses and the small log house. The barn, hay, sorghum molasses and all were consumed. Now we were right where we were in the spring, we had nothing.
Two days after the fire came a snow storm. There was no barn for the horses, no hay, no oats and no corn. It had all burned. All I could do was take the horses in the house with us until the blizzard was over. My brother and I talked it over and we decided to give Knox County one more trial -- if it missed again we would tell it goodbye.
We worked out and earned a few dollars--enough with which to buy seed. We planted it and it came up nicely and made a fine growth. But the grasshopper had laid their eggs and they hatched early. They started eating our wheat but as soon as they could fly they left. We had good growing weather and the wheat, corn and sorghum cane made good progress.
I know I could earn some money at blacksmithing if I had the necessary tools but had no money with which to buy them. It was different in those days, if you wanted something and did not have the money you had to wait until you had it. You could not go to the bank and borrow it--there were no banks at that time. We got a pretty good crop that year- sorghum cane was extra good. I finally got a few dollars together and bought an anvil, vise and bellows; also some other tools I made myself. A shop building I could do without for awhile. Then I was ready to fix my own plows and also those of my neighbors. The new settlers came 20 to 25 miles to have me sharpen their breaking plows and make repairs on them; I made a number of new plows too. I hired a man to work in my place in the field while I worked at blacksmithing. I made headway right along.
We made about 500 gallons of sorghum molasses that fall and it did not burn up this time. We sold it for 50 cents a gallon. We bought a new cow and changed from corn bread to wheat bread. Settlement was slow at this time - more settlers left than came in.
One day a young Bohemian about 24 years old came to my place-he was lost. He wanted to go to Cedar Rapids, Iowa but in some way had made a mistake and found himself at Cedar Rapids, Nebraska. He wanted to find a Bohemian settlement. I told him to stay awhile with me. The next day he became ill and in four days he was dead. I went and got the coroner and he told me it was a case of sunstroke.
Our horses had a hard time, too, no oats, no corn and plenty of hard work. To keep the flies off the horses, we used gunny sacks. They served a double purpose-people could not see how poor the horses were.
The grasshoppers came again but they weren't so thick and did not do much damage. As the years went by, things got better and better. I could buy pigs and cattle now. The first load of hogs I sold had to be killed and dressed and the nearest hog market was Yankton, SD. The ferry charge across the Missouri and back was $3.00 and dressed hogs sold for $1.50 per hundred. I did not haul many loads at that price. Cattle were low in price too, but they were cheaper to raise. I made money on them for feed was plentiful.
In the year 1879, July the 12th, I married a good farm girl...Miss Maria Sedivy, a good woman and an excellent housekeeper. We had fourteen children, two dying when infants and a son Albert died when 25 years old and son Henry died when 30 years old.
On the 12th day of July 1929 we had our Golden Wedding Anniversary and this was attended by over three hundred relatives and friends. As the years went by, times grew better. I raised small grain and corn but made the most money in hogs and cattle. I also raised and sold horses. I did quite a little trading and sold livestock. My rule was not to buy anything unless I had the money to pay for it.
I got in good shape financially and thought it would be a good idea to invest my surplus money in good land. So I bought one quarter section after another until at one time I owned 3,400 acres of good land, all clear. The neighbors all liked to sell me their stock and land for they knew they could get cash for it; and I could buy cheaper than on time.
By careful buying I always had plenty of money on hand. The land by this time I divided among my children and that is what I will do with the rest of my property later.
In 1894 we experienced only one other failure- - -raising only fodder- - -no corn, but it was not too bad as we had plenty to feed our stock that winter.
Nebraska is a good place to live in after all. By good management a man can make a good living and money beside.

ANDREW SUKUP
The Verdigre Eagle
February 25 and March 3 1932
G.H. Liddel, Editor and Publisher

Andrew Sukup died Oct 15, 1935. Mary Sedivy Sukup died April 2, 1944.
The obituary of Andrew Sukup reads" Many of Verdigre's business houses flew flags at half mast".

From the 1920 Atlas of Knox County, Nebraska:
Sukup, Andrew. Wf. Mary; ch. Joe, John, Andy, George, Albert, Henry, Lawrence, Francis, Clara, Emma, Martha, Laura. 480 ac., sec. 27; O. 280 ac., sec. 34; O. 160 ac., sec. 22; O. 80 ac. sec. 32; and in Logan Prec., O. 80 ac., sec.8; O. 80 ac., sec. 5.

The "Main" Ship was a 3,087 gross ton ship, built in 1868 for North German Lloyd of Bremen. Her details were - length 332 ft x beam 40 ft, clipper stem, one funnel, two masts, iron construction, single screw and a speed of 13 knots. There was passenger accomodation for 70-1st, 100-2nd and 600-3rd class. She was launched in 1868. In 1890 she commenced her last Bremen-New York voyage. The following year she was sold to British owners. She was destroyed by fire at Fayal, Azores on March 23, 1892.


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Andrew married Mary Sedivy Sukup, daughter of John Sedivy and Marie Masat Sedivy, on 12 Jul 1879. (Mary Sedivy Sukup was born on 13 Sep 1862 in Prob Senesnice, Bohemia, died on 2 Apr 1944 in Walnut, NE. and was buried in St. Wenceslaus Cemetery- Verdigre, NE.)




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