Wilhelm Ludwig Merz came to the Sandhills of Nebraska in the mid-1880s and planted his roots deep, just south of Swan Lake, in southern Cherry County. Legend has it that he and his neighbor spent that first winter in a dugout and the weather was such that, at one point, they brought a horse and cow into the dugout with them. Lesser men would have left, but the two chose to stay and, a couple of years later, my grandfather took up a claim on the east side of that lake. Their descendants are stayers too; great grandchildren now operate those three ranches.
In 1916, Billy Merz built a huge barn for his teams and an impressive house for his growing family. Mr. Merz was “Billy” to his neighbors, and Grandpa Merz to my generation. I have faint memories of his wife, who was an invalid by then, but Billy lived in the big house with his son’s family until I was nearly grown. My parents were close friends of the Merz brothers and their wives; their children were my first playmates, and due to the hours of fun we had there, I’ve been known to claim that I grew up in Billy’s barn.
The barn is built into a side hill, so the hayloft is at ground level and large enough that a team could be driven in and turned around when hay needed to be unloaded. In later years, tractors and machinery were parked inside, but there was still room for a large pile of loose hay at one end, which was our playground. The lower half had stalls for eleven teams and water piped in from a cistern on the hill. We played there occasionally, but when someone said, “Let’s go to the barn,” we meant the hayloft.
The teams are gone now, and the big three-story house has been replaced by a modern ranch style, but we still go to play in the barn now and then. As a child, I heard tell of some dances having been held at the Merz barn in early days, but we all learned to dance in the Seneca auditorium. Sadly, those public dances have been replaced with a myriad of school related activities and other entertainment, and a lot of today’s youth never learned to dance at all, but the times are changing, as times are wont to do.
The Merz family has brought back the traditional barn dances. In the last decade or so, several birthdays, Christmas parties and such have been celebrated there with potluck suppers and dancing. Labor Day weekend was another such occasion. Tracy Merz, who operates the place now, along with her mother, invited the community for a “Drought Dance.”
It was a birthday celebration for her mom, but also a reminder that our ancestors held on during tough times and we can too. We all needed some cheering up, an excuse for a party, and wrapping up of a less than prolific haying season. A chance to draw a deep breath and decide how to proceed now, amid the ever-changing times. To watch toddlers dance with their parents, teenagers teaching middle schoolers the steps, and the birthday person being the belle of the ball.
Once upon a time, Billy built a barn; mostly on faith and determination. Faith in himself and his neighbors, and that he and his family would somehow hang on in country that isn’t always easy on its people, and determination to do what it took to leave a legacy. Faith and determination were his road to success, and we have an obligation to pass that on.