Memories of the
  When we look back on old pioneer days and hear of the vicissitudes and hardships endured by those courageous old settlers of the '80's we often wonder if the worry caused by the present day depressions, drouths, hoppers and ever-increasing dust storms, doesn't make as large a dent in human happiness, as events of those early days.
My childhood memories at least, are mostly pleasant. Of course, we children didn't have to summon to our aid the courage and fortitude required by our elders.
When my father and two Ohio friends, Horace Fitch and Ed Hayden planned to try their luck in the west, they decided to come in advance, and leave their wives and children to follow later.
Stopping at Gothenburg they struck south into the hills (I was told they walked) coming here to Old Plum Creek, and finally locating about three and a half miles south of Farnam. The passed few homes or "claims."
One was at the present site of the Tom Crampton home. The family lived in a dugout, and the females of the species had literally to slide down into her house when she entered its portals. They were invited into dinner which they really enjoyed, in spite of an extra guest, a calf sleeping under the table. This was in March and the days were chilly.
After being located they built themselves a frame shanty which the three of them occupied while they built three sod houses.
Of course all the supplies had to be bought over from Gothenburg or Lexington, which was then called Plum Creek.
I have heard my father tell many amusing incidents, although they may not have seen the humor of it at that time. Occasionally they ran out of bread, but usually managed to keep a wooden box of soda crackers handy. Horace Fitch volunteered the information that he could make good bread. So he set his yeast, but the weather was cold. Each morning and evening he would hopefully peer under the lid, but that bread never did defy the weather and rise, so they had to compromise on water pancakes. They never tired of telling we children how delicious those pancakes were.
One night it rained, it poured, the water came down in sheets. They stayed in the shanty till they were well soaked through, bedding and all then decided to go into the soddy, which had some roof on, but no doors of windows. Some toads hopped through the doorway, as it proved, wishing to share their beds on the floor. My father said he just lay there and laughed listening to Ed whack the floor with a stick trying to drive those toads away.
Our soddy had a good board floor and plaster and the ceiling was covered with wainscoating. There were four rooms and a leanto. Many of the houses had only dirt floors. So when the wives and children arrived, there were thirteen of us, we had quite pleasant homes to come to. They all shipped their furniture together and hauled with pony teams from the U. P. Railroad.
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Our wells were dug with a spade the dirt hauled up in a wooden bucket with a rope and pulley and a horse to do his share. Our well, which was 265 feet deep is still in use. I remember our newer neighbors who had no wells coming with wagons and barrels to haul water to their homes.
When the various sod buildings were completed, we became overrun with mice, so the folks started out to acquire some cats. The called on Mr. Taylor. Yes, they had cats, but they belonged to Harry, and he couldn't give them away, however, he directed them to a neighbor where he thought they could get the necessary cats. This man was a bachelor and lived in a dugout. He slept on some sort of bunk covered with skins. Mother said she never saw so many cats in her life. Black cats, yellow cats, white cats, spotted cats, cats of all descriptions and breeds. He gave them two. Just as they were leaving he begged them to be good to the cats. This man afterwards committed murder and killed one of his neighbors.
In '87 the second influx of Ohio people appeared. Among these were Hudson Fitch, R. C. Perkins, Charley Jackson, Clebert Rice, Charley Nickerson, Tom Baker and Harley Chittock and their families, all from Cleveland and vicinity.
About a year later Sunday school was organized in the sod school house called the Ohio school on the present site of Sunflower College. This Sunday school flourished until the Congregational church in Farnam was erected.
The social life consisted of church suppers presided over by the ladies and lodge suppers engineered by the men, and I can remember an occasional Husking Bee, where fun and frolic held away. Then there were the dances and masquerades where all were friends. Later came the local band and the G. A. R. held and important place in the social whirl.
Most people rode in lumber wagons. Some of us brought top buggies from the east. My father had a spring wagon which the neighbors borrowed to take wheat to the mill (at least 20 miles away), or haul furniture from Gothenburg when there was a wedding in the air. This mode of traveling at least offered plenty of time for spoooning.
The monotony of these days was frequently broken by prairie fires sweeping through the country. Those who have never seen them can not imagine what a sight these were, where the heavy grass had grown undisturbed year after year in the canyons. It would turn into a regular conflagration. I've seen men rush out with horses and plow to turn over the sod in a fire guard around their homes. It had to be done in record time when the wind was blowing.
Wild fruit grew in abundance. Insect pests were scarce. Making garden was more simple than at present. Mother planted melons, pumpkins, etc. on the sod. She would take a knife and make an incision, and then we children would drop in a seed. That was the beginning and the end.. Neither weeds nor bugs flourished as they do now.
Those pioneer days offered some compensation for all difficulties encountered and the obstacles were not unsurmountable, most people seemed to thrive on them.
1886
1936
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Web Publisher: Weldon Hoppe