Born: 01/03/1853 in Nordjylland, Denmark
Married: 03/04/1886 in Maryville, Nodaway, Missouri
Died: 05/12/1942 in Barnard, Missouri
Through Leona (Bob) Whorton I learned
that my Grandfather Enoch rode a mule from Utah to
Whitesville, Missouri. This must have been when his parents
and other members of family came to Missouri from Utah.
Grandpa would tell me stories about him and his brother
"Andrew" riding across the plains, seeing Indians and riding
as hard as they could away from them.
This must have been in Utah before he
came to Missouri with parents. There was some Indian problems
at that time. This is pure conjecture on my part but dates and
ages support it somewhat.
I, Devere Byergo, found more
information on my grandfather in a story written about the
Bertelsen family. More from and about this story in Andrew N.
and his wife Johanne's memos. To begin with I found out our
last name was spelled Byiargor not Bjerregaard when the family
went to Utah and stayed with the ones who moved to Missouri.
It was changed to Byergo in Missouri around 1890 but I do not
know when the family in Utah went to Bjerregaard. Or why??
Also I found out that my grandfather
Enoch went on a trip back to Utah in 1880. This was in a
letter written by Andrew N., Enoch's oldest brother, to his
wife's sister in Utah. The letter was written in 1880, and he
told her he would write Enoch and have him go visit her. How
my grandfather Enoch went to Utah and how long he stayed I do
not Know. I am sure he stayed with his brother Andrew because
from the stories he told they must have been very close
brothers. He married my grandmother in 1886 so he had to
return to Missouri before then.
Following are stories about my
Grandfather Enoch and I, Devere Byergo.
Learning to Swim
My Grandfather could swim very good
and was always trying to teach me how. So one day we headed
for the small river that went through his property to a deep
place we had picked out for my swimming lessons. You must
remember I was about 8 years old and Granddad was over 80
That day I felt real smug because I
knew how to swim and didn`t tell him. (I learned when I was
forced to swim or get beat up by the town bully. This is
another story.) We got to our swimming hole, removed our
cloths and jumped in. The water was about shoulder high on me.
I said, grandpa watch me. I began dog paddling all over the
place. He looked at me and said, Devere that`s good but you
have to get your feet off of the bottom.
I told him that I had my feet off of
the bottom. He laughed and begin swimming around. This really
took the wind out of my sails. I think to this day he didn`t
know I was swimming. Maybe he was just kidding me.
Anyway we swam around for a while and
he showed me how to feel for cat fish in the holes in the
river bank. After a while Granddad said lets get out, I felt
like we should stay in a while longer, but we got out,
dressed, and headed for the house.
Collecting the Bees
One day Granddad and I was walking
across the barn yard to the gate in a wooden fence that opened
into the pasture that the river we swam in ran through.
On one of the fence posts by the gate
was a swarm of honey Bees. Granddad was thrilled. He said,
Devere I`M going to put them Bees in a box. So he took off and
a while later came back with a good size box.
I ask, grandpa how are you going to
get the Bees in that box. He said I`ll just rake them off the
post into the box. There was some tall grass in the pasture so
he pulled some of it up and twisted it together to use to rake
the Bees off of the post with.
I didn`t think this was going to work
so I headed for the house. At the other side of the barn yard
I turned around and watched Grandpa rake the Bees off of the
post. As you might have guessed they swarmed him. Here he came
towards me, hat in hand, swinging his arms around his head
running as fast as he could.
I thought, OH! MY! He`s going to bring
them Bees to me. I stood my ground, and by the time he got to
me he had ran away from them. He was a mess, I must have
picked stingers out of his face for over an hour. It`s a good
thing he had a long sleeve shirt on.
I don`t know why he didn`t get sick or
something, but he didn`t. I think that was the last of the Bee
collecting attempt. The box was left by the fence post for a
Eating with a knife
Grandpa ate everything with just a
knife. He only ate foods that he could manipulate with just a
knife. Such as meat, boiled potatoes, peas, apples, pears,
peaches, etc. I don`t know how he held his meat while he cut
it but I know he could eat peas with a knife better then some
people could with a spoon. He would not eat butter and neither
would my dad.
One day I was having dinner with
Grandpa and Grandma. Grandma had fixed some peas out of her
garden. I watched Grandpa rake some out of the bowl onto his
plate and begin to eat them with his knife. I said, Grandpa if
you use your fork it would be easier. He said that when you
travel horseback a knife is all you have room for and you
learn to use it for everything. That`s how I learned to use a
knife and it`s all I need. And it was.
Grandpa would tell me stories about
when he was a child about my age, at Grandpa would tell me
stories about when he was a child about my age, at that time,
riding horseback on the plains with his brothers. These
stories are vague, I was to young at the time to remember them
in detail. He would stand and pick at the age spots on his
arms. I thought this was funny at the time, but I do it now.
He would walk to Guilford, about a mile and a half, everyday
weather and health permitted just to talk and whittle with
people his own age. These are just a few of the many things I
remember about a person I thought a great deal of.
Following is a short story about
Grandpa Enoch that involved his jockey days. He must have been
in his late teens or early twenties to have been small enough
to ride competitively. He probably only road in local races or
county fairs. This story given to me by another grandson Keith
As the story goes this was a match
race between just two horses. It was a straight half mile
track or road with plowed fields on either side.
Grandpa got the jump on the other
rider and though the other horse was faster and could have
past him, he maneuvered back and forth in front of the
trailing horse forcing him into the plowed ground if he wanted
The deep going in the plowed ground
slowed the horse enough that he could not pass. Grandpa won
the race at good odds but knew the other rider and owner would
beat him up if he stayed around to collect his purse. He
jumped off his horse at the end of the race and hit the ground
He was fast on foot also and so missed
a beating, then came back a few days later to collect his
money. His competition was apparently honest but vindictive
Born: 01/03/1853 in Nordjylland,Denmark
Married: 03/04/1886 in Maryville, Nodaway, Missouri
Died: 05/12/1942 in Barnard,Missouri
Notes: Bjerregaard/Byergo same name
Enoik, Enock, Enoch Bjerregaard, Byergo was three yrs. old
when he came to United States from Denmark and 12 yrs. old
when he came to Missouri from Utah with parents. Enoch was 33
yrs. old and Virginia (Jenny) was 26 yrs. old when they
married. Another birth date: 01/03/1854.