Fred Engst:Memories of my father and mother

He Yan

F red Engst， wearing a jacket and a camouflage baseball cap， sat across from me. A delicate Chairman Mao badge glowed light gold on his cap. His Chinese name， Heping — literally meaning peace — was given to him by Madame Soong Ching Ling.

Engst， the eldest son of American agricultural experts Erwin Engst and Joan Hinton， was born in Beijing in 1952 and grew up at the Caotan Farm in Xi’an. In 1974， he went to the United States， where he worked for 15 years. He worked his way through to earn his doctorate in economics from Rutgers University. He has been teaching at the University of International Business and Economics in Beijing since 2007.

The first time I met him was in October last year， when the Chinese People’s Association for Friendship with Foreign Countries commemorated the 100th anniversary of Hinton’s birth. Half a month later， I asked him to meet in a coffee shop， where I listened to him speaking in authentic Chinese about the legendary experience of his parents.

Why he came to China

Question： What sort of family did your father， Erwin Engst， come from？

Answer： My father was a farmer all his life. He was born in November 1918， in the US state of Illinois. My grandfather， Anton Fred Engst， also lived off farming. He was a German immigrant and had been adopted from a New York orphanage by a farmer. When he grew up， he worked on a farm and later in a coal mine. After marriage， he worked on the farm of his wife’s family.

One day， he saw an advertisement in a newspaper for a piece of cheap land near Syracuse， New York. He took his family there and found it was all waterlogged， which dashed his American dream. My grandfather died of heart disease when my father was only 9 years old and with seven older sisters， one older brother and a younger brother. His earliest memories were of working on the farm. When the adults milked cows in the cowshed， he held a lantern for illumination.

As a young man， my father wanted to get out of the ruck. After high school， he spent two years working in a factory， earning money to enroll at Illinois State University to study medicine. A year later， he found he missed raising cattle and transferred to Cornell University， where he became a roommate of my uncle William H. Hinton. It was a crucial step that transformed his life.

Through Hinton， my father got to know my aunt Jean Rosner， an American communist. She lent my father progressive books， such as Red Star Over China， and encouraged him to join the army to fight fascism. But my father just thought about farming and dropped out of school after taking courses on raising cattle. He had no land and had to raise cattle on his brother’s farm.

After a year or two — by the summer of 1944 — my father decided to sell the cattle and join in the fight against fascism. My grandmother Edna was very supportive of him. In August 1945， he had scarcely sold the cattle at auction when World War II ended. He went to Washington to find my aunt Jean， who was working at a United States government agency. She told him the United Nations Rehabilitation and Relief Administration was recruiting animal husbandry experts to go to China. My father signed up and came to China in the spring of 1946.

Q： Now say something about your mother.

A： My mother was a physicist. She was born in October 1921 in Chicago. Her father’s grandfather was a mathematician named George Boole， who invented Boolean algebra. Boole’s father was a cobbler. He did not come from a well-off family. But he liked to study things like binoculars， and had a strong curiosity about science.

After graduating from primary school， Boole worked and studied at the same time. Later， he founded a primary school. In a nearby university library， he taught himself calculus and wrote about mathematical research. He was recommended to be a tenured professor at a university in Ireland. Boole married late， to a British feminist thinker and philosopher. They had five daughters， all interested in scientific research. The youngest， Ethel Lilian Voynich， wrote the novel The Gadfly. My grandfather， Sebastian Hinton， was the child of Boole’s eldest daughter.

Since childhood， my mother had been most influenced by my grandmother Carmelita Hinton. After my grandfather died， grandmother took her children to Europe to meet the descendants of the Boole family. Her father， Clemente Chase， editorin-chief of a newspaper in Omaha， Nebraska， was an open-minded man. My grandmother graduated from a famous American women’s college called Bryn Mawr College. She possessed both the adventurous spirit of westward movement and the ideals of women’s emancipation. When grandfather died， my mother was only 2 years old. Grandmother did not just look after her children； she made it professional and set up a nursery in Chicago. Then she set about trying to rid traditional society of its prejudice against women. Later， she moved to Boston to teach at a primary school near the Massachusetts Institute of Technology， Harvard University and Shady Hill in Cambridge.

When my mother was in the second grade of primary school， grandmother was a teacher. Her educational philosophy was to inspire children’s interest and find and give full play to their individual characteristics. Her classes did not have exams or assign homework. She carried out special projects every semester to encourage children to think. In 1929， grandmother led all her second-grade students， including my mother， to build a village. Each student built a log structure — a post office， a bank or a farmhouse. My mother built a lamb shed and learned to saw logs and hit nails. One professor came to the site to film the process. At the end of the film， my grandmother brought in a lamb and the children loved it very much. My mother held the lamb in the shed and stayed the whole night. Guess： How did the children get to school？

Q： By skateboard？

A： Usually they rode on horseback to school， but in winter they went on skis. My mother was raised under the educational concept that everything starts from curiosity， and love of nature and manual labor are natural things. During every winter and summer vacation， my grandmother took her students to camp in a US national forest for several weeks to learn survival skills in the wild.

Q： How did your mother get into nuclear physics？

A： When my mother was about to go to high school， grandmother started the Putney School. She found a piece of land in Vermont and bought a former dance school. Then she lobbied across the country for parents to send their children to the school. In this school on a farm， labor was required， including raising cattle and milking cows.

At the age of 18， my mother attended Bennington College， focusing on physics and violin. She finished her physics course in three years. Her teacher said， “We have nothing more to teach you.” Then my mother applied for graduate school at Cornell University， but she was not accepted because of her gender. For the first time in her life， she perceived inequality between men and women.

In the summer of 1942， she was admitted to the University of Wisconsin. Before long， her classmates started disappearing， one by one， and no one told her why. One day， she received a letter of invitation to the Los Alamos Laboratory in New Mexico， along with sophisticated scientists like Enrico Fermi， to participate in the Manhattan Project. They were asked to master nuclear weapons ahead of Adolf Hitler， as a deterrent. In 1945， the US dropped two atomic bombs on Japan. It was a heavy blow to the scientists. My mother realized that she was not engaged in pure science. Along with many other scientists， she devoted herself to the demilitarization of atomic energy.

In the fall of 1946， she followed Fermi for further studies at the Institute of Nuclear Physics at the University of Chicago. At that time， my uncle and father had both gone to China. Before his departure， my father made a special trip to Los Alamos to see my mother. He said， “I will be back in a few years. I will marry you.” My mother said，“Let’s talk about that when you come back.” At that time， my mother was not interested in having a relationship.

Q： If your father had gone back to the US， he would not have married your mother. Right？

A： Yes. They were not well matched in terms of family background. My mother said， “Engst knew that in the US， I would not have been with him. He had to do something different from others， so he went to China.”

My mother was very happy in the first year of her studies at the University of Chicago. During this time， my father had been writing to her： “China has undergone tremendous changes， and you have to come soon. Otherwise you will miss the boat！ You can study nuclear physics whenever you do， but I miss you.”

Mother was not moved at first，but later she found that the scholarship granted to her was from the US military. She was completely lost in despair. What she did was experimental physics， and any advance would end up in the making of more powerful atomic bombs. She felt miserable and shed many tears. She was not an emotional person， rarely crying.

She thought it best to leave the US for a while. On board a steamer bound for China， she thought to herself that she might be in China for about 16 years and would study physics later. That was the motivation that brought her to China.

My father was a curious， progressive youth； my mother was a desperate youth looking for a way out.

The Chinese revolution

Q： You said it was the Chinese revolution that attracted them. Right？

A： Right. For me， the Chinese revolution was like a TV series in which my parents participated and immersed themselves. It was a wonderful experience， and they were not in a hurry to go.

Q： Why did your father choose to spend all his life in China？

A： My father came from an underclass family. His acceptance of the progressive ideas of communism was the root cause. In the spring of 1947， he saw in northern Shaanxi that the local people had all turned themselves into soldiers fighting the Kuomintang. They were the eyes and ears of the Communist Party of China. In less than 400 days， the Northwest Field Army defeated a much stronger Kuomintang army led by Hu Zongnan， crushing the enemy’s siege of the liberated area.

When the Kuomintang forces launched a large-scale campaign to invade Yan’an， Chairman Mao Zedong， Zhou Enlai and Zhu De invited foreign friends to dinner and asked them， “Will you join us in northern Shaanxi or return to the Kuomintang-ruled area？” My father had been in Yan’an for less than half a year. I did not know where he found the courage to say that he wanted to stay. Maybe he thought bullets would not hit Americans.

There were more than 30 head of cattle at the Guanghua Farm in Yan’an. My father and farmworkers herded the animals out of Yan’an trying to find a way through the Kuomintang encirclement. At each place， they first sent a sentinel to check the situation and then contacted local Party organizations. At night， they passed between villages garrisoned by Kuomintang troops.

Local farmers supported the CPC， because the Communist Party regime led them to land reform — including a crackdown on local tyrants and the distribution of land. They were fully aware what it meant if the Kuomintang ruled there. My father once wrote humorously in a letter： “A crow flying over would have had to carry his lunch.” This referred to the situation in which the CPC moved to strengthen its defenses， evacuate local people and hide provisions and livestock before its retreat. The letter could not be sent out at that time. It was not until my father reached Xi’an in 1952 that it was found crammed at the bottom of a box. My father retyped the letter and sent it to my grandmother， telling her how he was touched by what he had seen. Chairman Mao led the revolutionary forces and the people to work together to transform the old society and build a new one.

Q： How did your mother come to China？

A： She also wanted to go to Yan’an. When applying her visa to China， the reason she cited was to find her fiancé. But it was just an excuse. In the spring of 1948， she arrived in China. A civil war had just broken out. Soong Ching Ling helped her make contact with the underground Party organization， and she went with my aunt， Bertha Sneck， from Kaifeng， Henan province， to the liberated areas. In Kaifeng， she fell ill and had to return to Shanghai. she taught English at the Yucai School of the China Welfare Foundation. Later， she was sent to Peiping， where Xu Beihong， a wellknown artist， hired her as an art school teacher. It was a cover-up. She and an American， Sidney Shapiro， disguised themselves as a couple. Together with Shapiro’s wife， Phoenix， they planned to pass through the Tianjin blockade to the liberated area. But they failed.

After Peiping was liberated， my mother followed the People’s Liberation Army into the city on foot. She was welcomed by the crowds and hitched a ride on a PLA truck to get to Yan’an. Someone told my father， “Your woman has come！” At first， my mother was not prepared for marriage. But people around were very enthusiastic about the marriage of two foreigners since it would be the first such union in Yan’an. She then agreed. One day after the wedding， my mother went into a cave dwelling and saw my father smoking a cigar. She snatched it away and trampled on it on the ground， saying， “Now you know how I feel about smoking！”

Q： Some people say that your mother came to China to pursue your father.

A： My mother would have been mad as hell if she had heard this. When studying at the University of Chicago， she and Frank Yang （Yang Zhenning） once drove past several farms to their mentor’s home in the outer suburbs. She said， “I would not mind to be a farmer， but I would hate to be a farmer’s wife.” For her， whether farming or studying physics， it was all about her career. She would not be an accessory to anybody.

Q： Did your parents have you right away after their marriage？

A： In 1949， my parents stayed in Wayaobao for half a year after their marriage. Then they went to the Sanbian Farm on the border between northern Shaanxi and Inner Mongolia. In the summer of 1952， my mother was seven months pregnant， and she decided to go to Beijing to give birth after seeing the poor sanitary conditions in the area — a place where some women had difficulty in childbirth and mother and child deaths were high.

I was born in October. My mother left Chengchuan for Yan’an on a donkey cart. She took a truck to Tongchuan， and then a freight train to Xi’an. Finally， she took a passenger train from Xi’an to Beijing. It took her two weeks to complete the journey. In Beijing， she attended and spoke at the Asia and Pacific Regional Peace Conference. The American magazine Truth reported that she was an escaped spy in atomic physics. It wrote that my mother had taken Chairman Mao’s private jet from the nuclear weapons research base in Inner Mongolia to Beijing. How ridiculous it was！

Q： Were families and friends of your parents in the US affected by this？

A： The Federal Bureau of Investigation was already in action. William H. Hinton returned to the US in 1953. Knowing he was going to get in trouble， he took a detour to Canada， only to be stopped by customs officials. They asked him， “Are you William Hinton？” His letters to my grandmother were opened by American intelligence officers. The FBI investigated many people， including my mother’s former colleagues. My mother had left the US in 1948. Her science colleagues held a farewell party， but none of them reported her to the US government. In 1953， the FBI questioned Edward Teller， known as the father of the hydrogen bomb， and he replied， “It’s none of your business. Scientists are free to do whatever they want.”

Q： Did the Chinese government ask your mother to help with nuclear research？

A： When Yang Zhenning visited China in 1971， he asked whether Joan Hinton had participated in China’s nuclear weapons development. The Chinese side said she had not. There was no evidence that she was involved in China’s nuclear physics research. Recently， I found that in 1956， when China started its economic construction， the government had written to some foreigners in the country asking about their expertise. My mother also received a letter. She wrote back saying that she had a background in nuclear physics and could participate if needed， adding that she could also work on the farm to mechanize agriculture. A reply never came.

Be buried in northern Shaanxi

Q： In the summer of 1953， your parents left the Sanbian Farm and worked nearly 60 years successively at Xi’an Caotan Farm， Beijing Red Star Commune and Xiaowangzhuang Farm in Changping， Beijing. Please talk about their attitude toward work.

A： My mother said， “People should do something worthwhile and do it wholeheartedly.” Whether engaging in agricultural mechanization or doing embryo transfers， she plunged herself into work with a rigorous scientific attitude. She was full of enthusiasm for whatever job she did and always accomplished it with a sense of achievement.

In the 1950s， China was economically poor， and its industries were just a blank. My father once said， “Xi’an industry only has match factories.” It was an exaggeration， but it showed how weak the industrial base was. In the early days of the farm， well water was used for heat exchange because the warm milk taken from a cow milk did not cool much and went bad easily. My mother thought of ways to make refrigeration equipment but lacked a key part. She learned that the Red Star Machinery Factory could produce it. With a letter of introduction， she went there， but the leader of the factory found it difficult to meet her requirements. My mother said， “I’m sitting here， and I will not leave until you give me the parts.” Whatever she thought was necessary， she must have it done.

In the 1980s， when my parents were doing embryo transfers on a farm， the thermometer malfunctioned. My mother went to the Chinese Academy of Sciences for help. The academy’s instrument was designed to measure temperature changes of one-thousandth of a degree Celsius rather than onehundredth. The staff thought the request was unworthy of their equipment’s capacity. “It’s like using a cannon to hit a mosquito，” they said. But my mother said she wouldn’t leave until it was done. She still had that stubborn attitude.

In 1958， during the Great Leap Forward movement， Wang Zhen， minister of Agricultural Reclamation， visited my parents’ farm and said， “Your farm has the condition to raise 100，000 chickens and ducks.” At the meeting to assign tasks， my mother asked my father， “Where do we get the food for so many chickens and ducks？” My father answered， “Trust the Party.” After the baby chickens and ducks hatched， how could their survival be assured？ How could women be organized to work with reasonable assignments and coordination？ My mother found these questions too complicated， and too much for her ability. She also tried to introduce a piece-work system but failed. Among the materials I collected， there is a chart showing the daily weight changes of chickens and ducks. plus detailed notes. She took a year and a half to increase the number of ducks from five to 10，000. That project was stopped due to the lack of fodder.

Q： Premier Zhou met your parents five times. Could you give some details？

A： In 1971， when tensions between the US and China began to thaw， Premier Zhou met my parents five times on different occasions， including meeting them alone once. When Xinhua News Agency reported that “Premier Zhou met Mr. and Mrs. Engst，” my mother was not happy about it. She said， I have my name！” At their second meeting， Premier Zhou explained that the way Xinhua addressed them was out of respect for Western customs. After the meeting， my mother wrote to Premier Zhou， saying that ignoring her given name was wrong and that the premier should support the women’s liberation movement. At the third meeting， Premier Zhou apologized and said， “I often make mistakes， and you must point it out whenever you find one.” This is my mother. For her， a mistake is a mistake. It has nothing to do with face-saving. It didn’t matter who was involved.

Q： Your mother was against male chauvinism and demanded women’s liberation. Please give us an example in this regard.

A： When my parents were transferred to Beijing， their salaries were different. My father earned 140 yuan a month， and my mother 100 yuan. She asked， “Why do men earn more than women for the same job？” In the end， their salaries were both adjusted to 120 yuan per month.

Many of her male Chinese colleagues thought she was stubborn and obstinate. They didn’t understand her. It was actually a matter of principle. In 1957， my mother successfully developed the technology for the pasteurization of milk. With the treatment， milk did not spoil quickly when delivered to the city. The farm awarded her two certificates of merit. The farm also recognized my father for his suggestion to use sweet potato vines as fodder. Obviously their contributions were of different weights.

My mother always wondered whether she was struggling for personal status or for women’s equality. Men were always saying， “Aren’t you trying to make a splash？” They privileged men over women and never did any self-examination. There were many examples. In 1971， we visited Dazhai， a mountain village in Shanxi province known as the country’s model for agriculture. The local cadre accompanying us was a tall and sturdy man. While chatting， he made a remark disrespectful of women. My mother crouched down， grabbed his legs and threw him to the ground. It was really embarrassing. My mother had a strong personality.

Q： Why did your father love a tough woman？

A： Why not？ My mother was a competent， passionate and charming person. Actually， my grandmother was very competent， too. Of German descent， she raised 10 children alone after her husband died. On the farm， my mother was a tough woman. She said to my father， “With my brain and your muscle together we can do anything.”My father said to me jokingly， “I love being spanked by your grandma， for when she stops beating， it feels so comfortable.” My father appreciated daring， resolute women.

Q： Is it true that your maternal grandmother came to China only once， in 1962？

A： In 1962， the US and China didn’t have diplomatic relations. So my grandmother could not come to China directly. She went to Moscow first and then telephoned my mother. It put my mother into a difficult situation. She thought she was completely cut off from American society. How could someone suddenly contact her again？

She wrote to Soong Ching Ling and went to Beijing to pick up my grandmother. Grandmother stayed in Xi’an for 10 months. I remembered a letter from Soong Ching Ling inviting my grandmother to attend the National Day ceremony in Beijing. Grandmother was hesitant because her visa was about to expire. She’d rather spend more time on the farm with her daughter. Then she got an answer that her visa could be extended for as long as she wanted. The visa was a separate piece of paper and was not recorded in her passport. After returning to the US， she was asked where she had been. She could have said nothing. But she told the truth. She never lied all her life. Then she had her passport taken away.

When US-China relations thawed in 1971， my grandmother led a group of 16 young people on a visit to China. It lasted until the following spring. She had high blood pressure， so the Chinese government sent someone to accompany her back to the US.

Q： How did your parents’ education affect you？

A： The most important thing is not what they said， but what they did and how they handled life. We often debated philosophy and politics at home. It was a relationship of equality. I was interested in electricity. My mother told me about the principles of electricity. I made a generator on my own when I was 15 My mother taught my brother the principles of optics and he made a slide projector. Their education focused on encouraging children to develop interest. When we grew up， we all took jobs that interested us.

Q： It was said that your mother opposed intellectual property rights. What about that？

A： In the 1980s， the Xiaowangzhuang Farm designed a complete set of machinery and equipment for raising cattle. When people from other units came to visit， my mother gave them the blueprint. Leaders of the Agricultural Machinery Institute were not happy about this. They said， “Now we have to feed ourselves. What can we depend on for a living now that you’ve given the drawings away？” My mother replied， “The State allocated money for this project. On what grounds can we charge [for the use of the new technology]？”

Q： Why did your mother go to Hiroshima and Nagasaki in 2009？

A： Every year， there were memorial activities in Hiroshima and Nagasaki. The Japanese invited her to go there. She had a stroke in 1999 and suffered a few minor ones after that. Up until then， she had been as busy as a perpetual motion machine. After the stroke， her mind became slow. That was a heavy blow for me. My father died in December 2003， two years after being hospitalized. My mother insisted on going to the farm to see the cattle every day. When I returned to China in 2007， I visited her every weekend.

Q： Your mother passed away in June 2010. Was it your parents’ decision before their deaths to be buried on the Sanbian Farm in northern Shaanxi？

A： It was my sister’s suggestion， and we all supported it. I had asked my mother， “When was your happiest time in life？” She said it was when they were in northern Shaanxi. My parents promoted cattle improvement locally， but the herders refused to accept it at first. A Mongolian worker on the farm mated a bull with his cows to get bigger cows， which produced more milk. By and by， the herdsmen accepted the new breeds.

My parents had a close relationship with the local people. During the Korean War， the farm called on the herdsmen to support the State， and the herders donated nearly all their cattle and sheep. The policies about ethnic minorities， the relations between cadres and the masses and the social environment of that time impressed my parents very much. That was the time they missed the most.

Q： Your parents called themselves“citizens of the world bound to liberate all mankind.” What do you think of their lives？

A： To put it simply， they were the happiest people I have ever seen. They didn’t need to rush about for life and thus could put all their energy into the cause of serving the people. They participated in the Chinese revolution led by Chairman Mao and devoted themselves to the process of transforming society and nature. They had a worthy life.

Q： What did your parents think of the friendship between Chinese and American people？

A： It’s a natural thing. In Mao’s era， American imperialism was distinguished from the American people. American imperialism referred to the US government. My parents were patriots. They loved the American people， not the American imperialist regime. It was only the regime that stood on the side of the people that was worthy of their appreciation. It is natural for people of all countries to be friendly. Loving the American people does not contradict loving the Chinese people.