  Roll along, covered wagon, Roll along For you're taking me West where I belong. With my husky little band We'll help conquer this new land. Roll along to Nebraska, Roll along.  Going West! The weary mules could soon rest from pulling the old covered wagon as they were almost to the Missouri. A little toddler slept peacefully in her mother's arms. Three other children played noisely in the back of the wagon. Behind a little dark haired boy and a white bulldog drove a few restless cows.
At the Missouri the little brave pioneer and his family were to cross on the ferry. There was room on it for everything except the dog and he was to left behind.
Sadly the children watched their dog as the ferry moved away from the bank. However, the dog had no intentions of letting water separate he and his playmates and when the ferry stopped on the other side the bulldog was waiting, all dripping wet from his long swim.
From there the covered wagon moved on to Lincoln, where the father worked on the railroad for awhile. The team of faithful old mules were traded off for a team of oxen, and then the covered wagon started West again.
Day after day the old wagon jogged along over the trackless land, over hills, creeks and in places through grass waist deep.
In May 1885 the wagon made its final stop at a little homestead about 11 miles south of Keystone, a little store which is now the Kitchen home. The father set up a tent for their home and life began in earnest for the pioneer family.
That fall the family moved into their new dugout and the old tent was transformed into overalls for the boys.
Although there were no Indians around, except a few halfbreeds, to endanger the pioneers lives there were plenty of other hazards to make living exciting as well as unsafe. Rattlesnakes were one of the worst menaces to human life.
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The children of this family had quite a time exploring for old arrow heads and searching the buffalo wallows for buffalo heads. A few antelope were left, but they soon disappeared.
One night the pioneer family heard the roaring of a mountain lion as he went down the Muddy. This little creek was about a mile from the little house.
In July 1886 another little girl opened her eyes to the wonders of the frontier life. Shortly after this Farnam opened its first business place and the pioneer family began going to town there. The trip after groceries took them from early morning until after dark.
The dugout was replaced by a sod house and this in later years by a two story frame house,
In 1890 the last baby, a little boy, was born.
In later years three of the boys often made the little house ring with the merry tunes from their fiddles. Only the dark haired boy, who wasn't so little anymore, did not play.
In 1912 death took the father away and in seven more years the mother passed away too.
The "baby boy" still lives on the old homestead. The dark haired boy, now whiteheaded lives on the old Joe Lee homestead, a mile north of his old home. The baby girl who came from Iowa here with the rest lives two and one half miles north of her old home. The other children are still living by have moved farther away.
Old settlers will remember this family was the Richard W. McMichael family. The children are all living, and they are by name: Chas. McMichael, Lake Village, Ark.; Mrs. Sam Alspaw, Nelson, Nebr.; Albert E., Farnam; Alvah McMichael, Nelson, Nebr.; Mrs. Ed Beery, Farnam; Mrs. G. I. Johnson, Stockville and Clifford McMichael, Orafino.
The covered wagon days are gone And so is now my little song But to the Pioneers so true I give this tribute, "God bless you." (The dark haired boy)
1886
1936
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Web Publisher: Weldon Hoppe