Jim Potter's Blog, page 13

Reno County: Diamond Dicks

https://jimpotterauthor.com/wp-content/uploads/2021/06/Reno-County-Diamond-Dicks.mp3“Diamond” Dicks

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Reno County Jail, 15 Avenue B east, Hutchinson, Kansas, opened May 1888, ca. 1889. Photographer: W. B. Glines. Credit to Reno County Historical Society

It’s Tuesday, November 14, 1899, at the Reno County sheriff’s residence attached to the jail, in Hutchinson, Kansas. Sheriff William “Bill” Long, 37, and his under sheriff, Ed Metz, 60, are drinking coffee.

Sarah “Cassie” Baker Long, 28, is supervising the feeding of 16-month-old Clella Elizabeth.

*

Alex Millar, 63, the jail’s turnkey, is waiting for the sheriff and under sheriff to pick up two prisoners. The lawmen will be escorting “Diamond” Dicks and Ed Clark to Lansing Penitentiary via train.

*

Jacob “Diamond” Dicks, 29, former salt raker at Western Salt Works, who murdered his foreman, Jacob Shenefield, 39, with a shotgun, is in a good mood.

Ed Clark, 58, former local attorney, convicted of being an accessory after the fact of the murder of W. C. “Clarence” Boyd, is still pleading his innocence, though the Kansas Supreme Court has denied his appeal.

*

“We see a lot of tragedies in this work,” said Cassie. “The murders make the headlines and the funerals are well attended, but what about the families after the burials?

“When Diamond got drunk and murdered his boss, two families, including ten children, were upended to their core by his temporary insanity. Ten children no longer have a father to help care for them.”

“It’s going to be a harder life for everyone, that’s for sure,” agreed Bill. “The men were the wage earners.”

“Lydia, Diamond’s wife, has fewer choices now,” said Cassie, “the family was near poverty before the killing.”

“At least Diamond had an income,” said Bill. “Being a salt raker is hard work.”

“The alcohol was a contributing factor to Shenefield being murdered,” said Ed, “but shooting anyone in the face with a shotgun is cold-blooded.”

“Bill, you told me during the trial that Diamond’s face was lined with sadness,” said Cassie, “that he made a good impression on the jury.”

“He displayed regret,” said Bill, “but no one can really know if it’s regret at killing his boss or regret at facing a long term in prison away from his family.”

“I’m not defending Diamond,” said Cassie. “I think he was rough on Lydia, but Superintendent Shenefield wasn’t innocent either. I believe Lydia’s testimony about how Shenefield forced her into improper relations after he moved Diamond from the day shift to the night shift. He hounded her at night until he found an unlocked door.”

“There were some salt rakers who testified that Shenefield had bragged about how he was going to get next to Diamond’s wife and then he told them each time he succeeded,” said Bill.

“Shenefield was acting like he was reporting the score of a baseball game,” said Cassie. “He began by promising Lydia that he’d increase Diamond’s pay if she cooperated, then threatened to fire Diamond if she didn’t do what he wanted, and finally promised he’d make sure her husband was never hired again by anyone in town unless she gave him what he wanted.

“What were her choices?” asked Cassie. “He kept saying he wanted to get acquainted with her. He made improper proposals; she begged him repeatedly to go away. Shenefield told her that if she didn’t yield, he would go to the salt block and tell the workers that he had had the desired relations with her. He had the nerve to tell her, ‘You might as well have the game as the name.’”

Cassie concluded her take on the squalid affair by asking Bill and Ed, “How could someone like Shenefield be so smart, yet so stupid?”

Neither Bill nor Ed attempted to answer her question.

“When Lydia told her husband what had happened, he went crazy,” said Bill. “I think the jury did about as good a job with their task as they could. Some of our citizenry are pleased and some are angry with the sentence of ten years for second degree murder.”

“Diamond nearly saved you a trip to Lansing when he attempted suicide,” recounted Cassie. “Cutting his artery with that piece of glass and being quiet about it was a desperate act.”

“When Alex found the bucket half-full of blood, he didn’t think the doctor could save him, but he did,” said Bill. “Surprised me.”

The Nickerson Argosy, October 19, 1899

“You know, he’s changed his life purpose since his recovery and sentencing,” said Cassie. “I believe he’s seen the light. Now he’s thankful that he received the minimum sentence. He promises to follow the rules at the penitentiary so he can shorten his time. He talks about taking care of his three children when he’s released.”

“Time will tell,” commented Bill,. “We’ll see how he handles his years of hard labor in the coal mine. I’m still having a hard time with Diamond begging the judge to be merciful just prior to his sentencing. I know Diamond was extremely intoxicated when he shot the superintendent, but he showed no mercy.

“Recently he’s been telling Clark that digging coal in the mines 700 feet underground, will be rough on the old man. Clark responds that he’d prefer instructing a Sunday school class if they have one.”

“The men will manage,” offered Cassie. “At least they’ll each have a roof over their head and food on the table. How about the women and their children? They’ll shoulder a great deal of anxiety because of the actions of their husbands. Mrs. Shenefield and Mrs. Dicks will need a lot of help from family and friends.”

“We have one child and we’re busy,” said Cassie. “How will Mrs. Shenefield, with seven children and without a husband, cope? Lydia Dicks has three little ones and a husband sent away for years. I’ll bet their children are split up if they haven’t already been sent to relatives or adopted out.”

*

Little Clella sat quietly, using a spoon to eat her meal. Then, the infant said, “Mama,” as she held up her empty cup.

Cassie wrapped her arms around the seated child and whispered, “I love you, baby girl. Mommy and daddy will be here for you.”

Clella squirmed in her mother’s arms, as Cassie kissed her daughter on the neck. “No,” said Clella, as she held up her empty cup and again said, “Mama.”

Bill and Ed stood up, ready to collect their prisoners for the trip to the passenger depot.

“Ed,” said Cassie, “even though Diamond and Clark are acting all cooperative and happy, please be careful.”

“Will do, Mrs. Sheriff,” responded Ed, as he gave her a half-salute.

“Bill,” said Cassie, “Clella and I will wait for your safe return. We love you dearly.”

“Love you, too,” said Bill, as he kissed Cassie on her lips and Clella on her forehead.

Cassie told Clella, “Say, ‘bye-bye daddy.’”

Clella again lifted her empty cup to her mother and cried out louder, “MAMA!”

*

Hutchinson Gazette, November 16, 1899

 

Until next time, happy writing and reading.

The post Reno County: Diamond Dicks appeared first on Sandhenge Publications.

Reno County: 1893 Chicago World’s Fair

 

https://jimpotterauthor.com/wp-content/uploads/2021/06/Reno-County-1893-Chicago-Worlds-Fair.mp31893 Chicago World’s Fair

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Chicago’s World’s Exposition 1893, with The Republic statue and Administration Building. Wikipedia photo

It’s Thursday, September 21, 1893, at the Bon Ton Bakery, 15 North Main, Hutchinson, Kansas. Julia “Maria” Bacon Patten, 38, and John Quincy Patten, 38, are celebrating their one-month-old’s birthday, Hiram Burnham Patten. He’s taking a nap while they prepare to order treats.

*

“It sure is convenient having Bon Ton Bakery and Confectionery so close to Mr. McInturff’s Photography Studio,” said Maria as she smelled the fresh bread, admired the carpets, and sat down on a handsome chair. She placed Hiram, asleep in his baby basket, on a chair next to her. “I’m hungry,” she declared.

“Me too,” said John. “I’m going to have something before the ice cream, maybe cake.

“I wanted to see the photographs McInturff took of the Cherokee Strip at Cameron,” continued John. “Plus, a dozen cabinet photographs for $1.50 is a reasonable price, although we are in a financial depression.”

Spending money on baby pictures is nothing, thought John. Photographs of Hiram are worth sharing with the family. He’s a gift from God.

John was grateful to have Hiram as his son and Maria as his wife. He and Maria knew first-hand the risks of childbirth. Nearly every family had a sad story of the loss of an infant dying as a baby, or the death of a mother. A year earlier, after 12 years of marriage, Maria and John’s first child, a girl, was stillborn.

“McInturff’s smart to advertise the scenes of the Strip in his show cabinets,” said Maria. “They were very clear and distinct. I liked the one titled ‘The Start,’ and the one with the group of spectators.”

“I didn’t know that Harry Leonard, the Mexican Barb Wire Liniment Man, had gone to Cameron until we saw him and his outfit in one of the photographs,” said John. “The settlers will need his healing remedy for barbed wire cuts to their horses or to themselves.”

Click to read Mexican Barb Wire Liniment Advertisement

“Mrs. Tucker of Arlington is home after suffering a serious injury from being thrown from a wagon,” said Maria.

“I heard that J. C. ‘Mellis’ Potter returned from the Strip,” said John. “He and his brother, Elmer, made the run of 25 miles in two hours from Cameron. They staked their claims and think the land will make fine farms. On the Run, Mellis rode a young saddle mare, Elmer a young mule. Now, the brothers have returned for their father, Adam, and the covered wagon.”

“It sounds like a lot of people are returning home,” said Maria, “not all of them with a claim. Those with a claim make it sound like paradise; those without, are dragging their feet, disappointed.”

“During the drought, not taking a claim may be a smart decision,” said John. “Also, it’s too late in the year for a crop, so the Boomers will have a long wait and a difficult winter before they’ll have a harvest.”

“Mr. McInturff said the lawyers will be busy for years sorting out who has a good title to claims,” said Maria. “He said it was common for more than one person to claim the same acreage or town lot and that the Sooners cheated in the scramble for land, entering the strip on Friday night rather than waiting for noon Saturday.”

*

Electricity was used to decorate the buildings with incandescent lights, illuminate fountains, and power three huge spotlights.  Wikipedia photo

“Here come Frankie Burrell and Mary Bussell, along with Mary’s youngest,” said Maria. “They’ve just returned from Chicago and the World’s Fair. Let’s invite them over.”

John agreed.

“Frankie, Mary, will you join us?” asked Maria.

“We’d love to, thank you,” replied Frankie, 35, whose given name was Francis, and Mary, 37.

“We haven’t met your newborn yet,” said Frankie. “She’s beautiful,” added Mary as she viewed the sleeping infant.

“Thank you,” replied Maria, “he’s a boy, Hiram, one-month-old today. John and I each have a brother named Hiram, so both families are honored.”

Frankie, Mary, and Robert, a four-year-old, sat down.

“How are you feeling since delivering?” asked Mary.

“Doing well, thanks,” Maria answered. “Last year, we had a baby girl for a day, but she died at birth. Hiram’s health is a blessing.”

“John and I lost our first child at birth, too,” said Mary, “but since then we’ve had four healthy children.”

*

Maria remembered Frank, William, and Mary, three of her siblings who had died of cholera infantum before they reached the age of four, when her family lived in Indiana. The disease, also called summer diarrhea, took the lives of children and infants.

John and Maria had secrets they only shared with one another. When John considered Mary suffering the pains of childbirth, he had purchased a bottle of “Mother’s Friend” as a precaution. It made all kinds of promises, from alleviating pain to preventing morning sickness.

When Maria read how “Mother’s Friend” would allow for an easy and quick delivery, she understood why the product was popular, but she also knew it was promising more than it could deliver.

Actually, Maria bought another product as part of her back-up plan, just in case she was unable to produce sufficient breast milk. It was a preparation of lactated food that was said to be nourishing, strengthening, and digestible. It advertised that it could prevent diarrhea and cholera infantum. It might not work, but if needed, it could save Hiram’s life.

Click the following link to see an advertisement for a remedy called “Mother’s Friend” Mothers Friend Advertisement

*

“Were you glad to have school start this week?” John asked Mary.

Mary exhaled and smiled. “The teachers should be paid better,” she answered. “Nellie, Addie, and John are excited to be with their friends at the schoolhouse. Robert misses his siblings, but he’s also happy for my attention.”

*

The original Ferris wheel, built by George Washington Ferris, Jr., was 264′ high and had 36 cars. Each car could accommodate 60 people. Wikipedia photo

“How was the Columbian Exposition?” asked John, before taking a bite of cake.

Frankie and Mary looked at each other, trying to decide who would start. “It was more than we ever expected,” said Frankie. “The Great Chicago Fire in 1871 destroyed the city, but it’s back from the ashes, bigger and better.”

“You’ve heard about the Ferris wheel,” said Mary. “What an invention! It holds over 2,000 people at a time. I must say, the price of 50 cents for a ticket was worth it.”

Mary shook her head in agreement. “It’s been a wheel of fortune for the Fair. We could see the White City with its gleaming buildings from 264 feet in the air. Electricity doesn’t just run the Ferris wheel. It’s used to decorate the buildings with incandescent lights, illuminate fountains, and power three huge spotlights.”

“The world’s quickly changing,” said John. “On one hand we have residents making a land run, who are willing to live on the prairie and sleep in dugouts, while Chicago uses electricity to rotate a Ferris wheel for 2,000 people at a time. That power could light up and run an entire town.”

“We also visited a travellator exhibit that moved people around whether they were sitting or walking,” said Mary. “Can you imagine being moved around town without riding a horse or buggy?”

“Did you visit the “Street in Cairo” on the Midway?” asked John.

“Yes, at the Cairo Village we rode the camels,” answered Mary. “It was quite a feat to mount and dismount while keeping our balance because the camels kneel down for the ride.”

“We watched the popular entertainer known as ‘Little Egypt’,” said Frankie. “She was an exotic dancer in the Egyptian theater.”

“We also attended a lecture on the Science of Animal Locomotion,” said Mary. “A zoopraxiscope was used to show moving pictures.”

“At the Agricultural building we were treated to samples of soup, oat meal and cream, pickles, and warm biscuits,” said Frankie. “After that, it wasn’t necessary to purchase a lunch.”

“The demonstration on electricity in cooking was astounding,” continued Frankie. “It will lighten our labor in the kitchen. We watched a steak cooked and it was done in short order.

“With electric utensils, pancakes were cooked and a ham was baked.

“In the future, hot-irons will be be replaced by simply hooking on a cord and switching the heat-producing current.”

“We wanted to see the Tiffany exhibit of diamonds,” said Mary, “but the room wasn’t open when we were in that part of the neighborhood.”

“Buffalo Bill wasn’t invited to be a part of the Fair,” said Frankie, “so he set up his Wild West Show next door and it was packed every day.”

Changing the subject, Frankie asked John, “Are you closer to being our next Reno County sheriff?”

“We won’t know until November,” replied John, “but I’d sure appreciate your support.”

“He rightly deserved the Republican nomination,” volunteered Maria. “He’s been supportive of Sheriff John Jones for the last four years, now it’s our John’s turn.”

“If we had women’s suffrage beyond municipal elections, you’d get my vote,” offered Frankie. “When you get elected, you can start planning on enjoying the conveniences of living in town at the sheriff’s residence, with a nearby bakery that offers sweets.”

*

As the friends finished their ice cream, Hiram started crying. It was a sign that their conversation was over.

“Before we go,” said Maria to John, “would you get me some chocolate candy to take home? For some reason, I’ve been craving it lately.”

*

Until next time, happy writing and reading.

The post Reno County: 1893 Chicago World’s Fair appeared first on Sandhenge Publications.

Reno County: 1893 Cherokee Strip Land Run

 

https://jimpotterauthor.com/wp-content/uploads/2021/06/Reno-County-1893-Cherokee-Strip-Land-Run.mp31893 Cherokee Strip Land Run

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Reno County Jail, 15 Ave B east, Hutchinson. 1892, photographer unknown. The front porch (to the right in this photo, facing north), is the sheriff’s/jailer’s residence. Connected, to the south, is the jail (a sharp photo shows the steel bars on both the middle and south portion). On the first step to the jail, Mrs. Eliza “Jennie” Johnson Jones, 34, holds 2-year-old Roscoe Jones. To the viewer’s right, standing, is Victor Jones, 11; Sheriff John Wesley Jones, 36: John Jones, Jr., aka “Bud,” 13. On the jail’s porch are Mabel Jones, 14; Ethel Jones, 10; and “the help.” Author’s collection. Copy of original photo from Dorothy Miller Foster, (granddaughter of Sheriff J. W. Jones), South Hutchinson, KS, in 1985.

*

It’s Saturday night, September 16, 1893, in Hutchinson, Kansas, at the Reno County sheriff’s residence, 15 Avenue East. Roscoe, 3; Ethel, 10; Victor 12; Bud (John Jr.), 13, and Mabel, 15, are in bed. John, 37, and Jennie Jones, 35, take a minute to reflect on the day.

*

“This would have been a bad day to count noses for a census,” said John. “I wonder how many families we’ll lose to the Strip.”

“Those with claims today have a long row to hoe,” said Jenny. “They expect fortune and happiness, not disappointment and suffering. You and I know a thing or two about settling in a new country. It sounds easy until you arrive.”

John Wesley Jones, 1893. Photographer, Samuel Hirst, Hutchinson, KS. Author’s collection

In 1875, John Wesley Jones, single, born in Macomb, Illinois, drove his covered wagon west of Langdon into Grove Township, and established a homestead. A year later, Eliza “Jennie” Johnson, with her parents, arrived in Reno County, having migrated from Illinois and then Missouri, before planting deep roots in the Langdon area.

John, 21, and Jennie, 19, married October 3, 1877.

*

“Between those visiting the World’s Fair in Chicago, and those either participating in, or observing the land run today, our town’s half-asleep,” said Jenny. “I saw a number of closed signs at businesses.”

“Our office stayed open,” said John, “but let’s hope the wild ones are busy staking claims. The Boomers will have some lawless days and nights ahead even though most of the participants have an honest desire to provide for themselves and their family.

“The settlers will knock together a house in which to pass the winter, will gather what prairie hay has been left by the prairie fires and hot winds, and will begin to transform the country into a community.”

“During this financial depression and labor troubles, the land rush is appealing to many,” said Jennie. “But, with this drought, when the going gets tough or they run out of money, they’ll return here looking for work.”

*

Eliza “Jennie” Johnson Jones, about 35 YOA, 1893. Photographer, Samuel Hirst, Hutchinson, KS. Author’s collection

Jennie recalled a recent conversation she had with Eva Belle Dix Potter, 19, wife of James Chamellis Potter, 28.

“For some time, ‘Mellis’ and his brother, Elmer, have been planning on participating in the Land Run. They chose not to be part of the first Oklahoma land rush in ‘89, but this time they had their minds set on it.

“Eva said that land fever runs in the family,” continued Jennie. “Their father, Adam, visited here in 1872 when the county was just started. He was impressed with the buffalo herds and fertile prairie. Adam caught the Kansas fever. In 1877 he pre-empted a quarter section of land in Loda Township. The following spring, he and his wife, Rosannah, arrived. That’s when three of their children also pre-empted a quarter section each.” 

“I had the fever, too,” said John. “At least the Boomers already have railroads in the country for delivering building supplies.”

“Eva asked Mellis if they were going to live in a dugout or a soddie,” said Jennie.

“What did he say?” asked John, imagining Eva encountering bedbugs and a leaky roof until a proper dwelling was built.

“Mellis promised Eva that he’d dismantle their house in Loda, haul it to the Strip in wagons, and reassemble it on their claim,” answered Jennie. “But it still means she’ll be leaving her parents, siblings, and neighbors.”

Click on the link to see the house that James C. Potter built in Loda Township, Reno County, Kansas, and rebuilt near Jet, Oklahoma, after claiming 160 acres in the 1893 Cherokee Strip Land Run. Homestead near Jet Oklahoma in 1900  

“I hope they find some good land,” said John. “The eastern part of the Strip is the rich farmland, with water and timberland. It costs $2.50 an acre. The middle portion is fair land for $1.50 an acre, and the western division is good for little but cattle grazing, so it costs $1.00.”

“They were planning on entering the Enid Land District,” said Jennie. “They planned to register at Cameron for a certificate. After staking out a homestead, they will go to the land office in Alva to file their claim. I just hope Sooners don’t get there before them.”

*

Start of the September 16, 1893, Cherokee Outlet Land Run. This photograph was taken from a tall wooden platform built especially for William S. Prettyman (1858-1933). Born in Maryland, Prettyman moved to Emporia, KS, then Arkansas (“Ark”) City, KS, where he became a photographer’s assistant.  After learning the trade, he set up a photography gallery there. In 1893, Prettyman relocated to Blackwell, Oklahoma Territory, and opened his last photography gallery, quitting the business in 1905.

“It sounds like those who watched the start of the Land Run today were pleased with the experience, except for the burning sun and packed train cars,” said Eva. “As the time approached noon, the sightseers said they kept looking back and forth from their watches to the crowd of Boomers. Finally, the revolvers of the U.S. Army officers fired their guns and a white flag was raised.

“Some of the Boomers were mounted on thoroughbred racers, others on sure-footed cow ponies, and a few on safety bicycles. Many started the race in buggies, wagons, or on foot.”

“Trains were also a choice,” added John, “especially if they wanted land near the railroad.

“Even though I wasn’t there,” John continued, “I can imagine the pandemonium, the shouting of Boomers, neighing of frightened horses, cracking of whips, creaking of prairie schooners, rattling of wheels, clatter of hoofs, and the explosion of firearms.”

“And I can see, smell, and taste the dust,” added Jennie, as the tip of her tongue protruded from her mouth, testing the air. “I’m glad we’re home.”

*

“Do you miss the excitement of a new start somewhere else?” asked Jennie, already knowing her husband’s answer.

“Oh, no,” answered John, “I promised you. I’ll settle for wrapping up this sheriff’s job in the next four months and going home to Grove County to raise crops and stock. No more political campaigns for me. Four years is enough, don’t you think?”

*

Historical Note: Technically, the 1893 Land Run (or Rush) referred to the Cherokee Outlet, not the Cherokee Strip. There was a difference, although back in 1893 the term “Cherokee Strip Land Run” was the most common name. The Cherokee Strip was actually just two miles wide. It became the southern edge of Kansas. The Cherokee Outlet, just south of the Strip, was 225 miles long, 58 miles wide, encompassing six million acres. This is the area where the 1893 Land Run took place with over 100,000 people participating.

Another Note: The 1893 Land Run was not offered to the Boomers for free because the US government had purchased the land from the Cherokee. The Outlet was “purchased,” by the US government but it was a forced sale. In 1890, after President Benjamin Harrison forbade all grazing on the Outlet, the Cherokee were prevented from profiting on leasing the land to cattlemen any longer. The law had already stated that the Cherokee could hunt, but not live on the Outlet. With the tightening restrictions, the Cherokee recognized they’d been down this trail before when they had lived in the southeastern US, and were finally forcibly removed in 1838. In the Oklahoma Territory, the Cherokee chose to sell the land before it was stolen by gradual encroachment by whites. 

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Until next time, happy writing and reading.

The post Reno County: 1893 Cherokee Strip Land Run appeared first on Sandhenge Publications.

Reno County: “She Jumped from the Train”

https://jimpotterauthor.com/wp-content/uploads/2021/05/Reno-County-She-Jumped-from-the-Train-1st-copy.mp3“She Jumped from the Train”

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The new Reno County Jail, 15 Avenue East, Hutchinson, KS, was opened in 1888. Sheriff Daniel E. Miller, and his wife, Cecelia Edmunds Miller, lived in the attached residence with their children. Photographer W. B. Glines, ca. 1889. Credit to Reno County Historical Society.

It’s Wednesday, April 3, 1889, in Hutchinson, Kansas. Daniel Miller, Reno County sheriff, 45, returns home to the sheriff’s residence at 15 Avenue East. Cecelia Edmunds Miller—Mrs. Sheriff—41, spots a new gray hair on her husband’s head.

*

“Hello, honey, how are you and the children?” asked Dan, as he entered the sheriff’s residence, gave his wife a kiss, and hung up his hat.

“We’re fine,” answered Cecelia. “How did Sarah respond to the Topeka Insane Asylum once she got past the beautiful gardens?”

Dan took a deep breath, rubbed his jaw, and closed his eyes. “Sarah jumped out a train window,” said Dan. “She’s nearly dead.”

“Oh!” exclaimed Cecelia, as she held up a hand to her gasping mouth. “That poor girl!”

Dan slowly raised a hand and pressed four fingers to his lips.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” said Cecelia. “She was a troubled, young lady.”

“I’m a smart lawman,” said Dan. “I’ve tracked and captured many a criminal who thought they were home free, but I underestimated Sarah Kelley.”

“How did it happen?” asked Cecelia.

Passenger train of the Atchison, Topeka, & Santa Fe Railway around 1895. Image from Wikimedia.

“Soon after the train left Osage City, Sarah requested the use of the water closet,” answered Dan. “I agreed and remained outside the door. When she didn’t come out, I opened the door and discovered she had jumped out the window while the train was moving at about 40 m.p.h.

“I had the train stopped. H. A. Chamberlain, special agent of the Santa Fe, and I, went back to find her. We discovered her about a mile west of the coal town, Peterton. Her body was bruised and mangled and she was unconscious. We had her taken to Osage City and placed in the care of physicians, but they advised us she wouldn’t see another sunrise.

“I knew Sarah was worried,” said Dan. “She was anxious, but for good reason. She was sane enough to be scared of going to the insane asylum.”

“We’ve seen men and women much worse than her be declared insane,” said Cecelia. “If only we had a sanitarium here in Reno County, we could have a safer and saner place for the less-troubled individuals.”

“It would make our job easier,” said Dan. “Reno County’s fortunate to have the state spend money on the Reformatory. A sanitarium is a private, for-profit business, but it would help alleviate some of the heartache of family members. If it was here in Hutchinson, visits could occur more often, when allowed. Sadly, for those destitute, they’d still end up at a state-run facility.”

“The Reformatory is for young criminals,” said Cecelia. “This is different. Sarah didn’t commit a crime. She deserved better. Sarah decided to try and escape from the train, or to kill herself quickly rather than face a lingering death at the asylum. We’ll never know her true intensions.”

The Topeka Insane Asylum was a publicly funded institution for the care & treatment of the mentally ill. It opened its doors in 1879, after the Osawatomie State Hospital became overcrowded with mentally-ill patients.

“We know some individuals who have been released from the asylum and returned home,” said Dan, “but the fear of spending years there was too much for Sarah. In a way, I don’t blame her. Selfishly, I wish her fatal injuries hadn’t happened on my watch.”

“We’ve talked about this before,” said Cecelia, “the commissioners can pay for female prisoners to be escorted by a woman. I’m already caring for the female prisoners and cooking. I can’t be everywhere. In this situation, Sarah would be in the asylum today if she’d been allowed a proper escort.”

Dan listened. Treatment of women wasn’t a new topic of conversation. He knew what Cecelia would say next.

“And another thing,” said Cecelia, “the law states that adults should be judged by a jury of their peers. In probate court, Sarah Kelley was pronounced insane by a jury of men.

“Years before we arrived here in Kansas, the vote failed for impartial suffrage, but two years ago women gained the right to vote in city elections. Women captured several local offices, especially at Syracuse and Argonia. In Syracuse, women won all five positions on the city council. At Argonia, Susanna Madora Salter became the first woman mayor in the nation to be elected.

“In Wyoming, women vote for every office for which their brothers do and on the same terms.”

Dan was quiet, listening. Cecelia had forgotten to mention that Mayor Salter was only 27 years old when she was elected.

“In the two weeks Sarah was with us,” continued Cecelia, “her mind was comparatively clear, except for a few clouds now and then. If only she’d had the opportunity to be placed in a sanitarium, a pleasant home-like surrounding with the care of a good nurse and physician. Instead of having horrible nightmares of the lunatic asylum—which she feared more than death—she might have been saved.”

Dan heard the approaching whistle of an inbound train. He put his open hands together like a church with a steeple and thought to himself: What could I have done to prevent this tragedy?

The sheriff relived his train trip that morning. Knocking on the water closet’s door, hearing no response, calling out loudly: “Mrs. Kelley, can you hear me? Are you well?” Then, his hand slowly opening the door, the horror of a vacant water closet and open window, shocking his heart.

Dan’s body heated up. Drips of perspiration formed on his forehead. His stomach felt queasy. His head was spinning as he viewed Sarah’s deep wounds. She lay unconscious beside the railroad tracks.

“Mrs. Kelley was bright and sympathetic, and just entering the prime of her useful womanhood,” said Dan. “She will be dearly missed.” 

*

Until next time, happy writing and reading.

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Reno County: The Yellow Wallpaper

 

https://jimpotterauthor.com/wp-content/uploads/2021/05/Reno-County-The-Yellow-Wallpaper.mp3The Yellow Wallpaper

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In the late 1870s, Samuel Field Conant, of Maine, developed a system of disease elimination by Vapor Baths. Unknown year of advertisement. Thanks to “dvery1” from ancestry.com.

It’s Monday, June 21, 1897, at 102 East Sherman Street, in Hutchinson, Kansas. Julia Latimer Whiteside, 29, is visiting with Alice Lewis Smith, 36, at Alice’s business of cure baths.

*

As Alice prepared the cure bath for her first customer of the day, she heard the whistle of the departing Hutchinson & Southern train.

Meanwhile, Julia felt like she was on olfactory overload. What are those different smells? thought Julia. Peppermint? Ginger? Cinnamon? Cloves?

Advertisement in The Hutchinson News, July 5, 1897.

“Yesterday, I lost my gold-framed glasses in front of Silsbee & Scott’s grocery,” said Alice. “I placed a notice in today’s paper in case someone found them.”

“I hope a Good Samaritan returns them,” said Julia. “Houston and I will be leaving for California in two weeks, but I wanted to stop by and see how your cure therapy is working.”

“A lot of people have given it a try,” said Alice. “Most, but not all, are encouraged. It’s a combination of compound vapor fuming and liniment bathing. It helps cure rheumatism, asthma, eczema, chronic neuralgia, and other nervous troubles.”

“I have a friend who normally isn’t hysterical, but hasn’t been doing well recently,” said Julia. “She’s been having emotional problems since the birth of her baby. Her doctor told her to follow the Rest Cure.”

The Invalid, a painting by Louis Lang (ca. 1870), depicts the treatment of bed rest for women. Image from Wikipedia.

“The Rest Cure can be helpful, but not every woman has the luxury of a full-time nurse while she stays in bed for weeks or months,” said Alice.

“It’s been weeks,” said Julia, “but she’s been forced to stay in bed 24 hours a day. It seems harsh and too isolating. There are better ways to get fresh air than by opening windows.”

“Have you been able to visit her to form your own opinion?” asked Alice.

“Her husband forbids visits from family and friends,” said Julia. “Even brain work, like writing, is prohibited because it might lead to nervous strain and interfere with recovery.”

“Do you know if the doctor sees the woman as hysterical?” asked Alice. “As you know, every patient is different, but so is every doctor. Dr. Silas Weir Mitchell is known nationally for his pioneering work on nervous disease, especially neurasthenia (physical and mental exhaustion) and hysteria, but even a Rest Cure can be overdone.”

“Agreed,” replied Julia. “You sound like you’ve been to a recent lecture by Charlotte Perkins Stetson.”

“I wish,” replied Alice. “She’s brilliant. She’s successful in many areas: lecturer, author, poet, and social reformer.”

“With her untiring leadership, someday we’ll have the vote,” said Julia. “Mrs. Addison, state president of the Women Suffrage Association, has arranged for Charlotte to deliver a number of lectures around the state over the next month. I haven’t heard if she’s coming to Hutchinson.

“The Yellow Wallpaper,” edition 1899. Image from Wikipedia.

“I’m thinking about Charlotte’s short story, ‘The Yellow Wallpaper.’ It was published a few years ago in The New England Magazine. Do you know it?”

“I haven’t read the story,” said Alice, “but if Charlotte Perkins Stetson wrote it, she’s probably not sharing tips on hanging wallpaper or decorating the house.”

Julia and Alice both laughed. They were bright women, much more than “just” wives and mothers. They recognized Charlotte as a social reformer with courage.

“Charlotte wrote ‘The Yellow Wallpaper’ after her own complete nervous collapse and recovery,” said Julia. “When she fell into a psychotic depression, she came under the care of Doctor Mitchell.

“Her short story’s about a woman who is suffering from nervous depression, but the narrator also has a marriage that’s not working. Her husband, John, is her doctor. He recommends a treatment of inactivity, for her to rest and stay in her room, and not even write.  However, she longs for a stimulating conversation and physical activity.

“After too much time isolated in the bedroom, she’s disturbed by the yellow wallpaper that’s irritating and torturing her with its formless pattern and hideous color. It smells and begins to shift, depending on the lighting. By moonlight, it begins to resemble bars.

“The point of the story is to caution that patients, often women, may be physically pampered but emotionally starved,” said Julia. “The treatment was causing, not correcting, her further mental breakdown because she wasn’t being respected and allowed to make decisions regarding her own lifestyle and health.

“Charlotte Perkins Stetson recovered after traveling west to California,” continued Julia. “That’s ironic because Dr. Mitchell promoted a rugged ‘Go West’ cure for men, while women were typically stuck in bed resting when they preferred congenial work, with excitement, and change.”

“I know that economically she promotes women making their own living and feeding themselves,” said Alice. “I’m familiar with her lecture, ‘The Heroes We Need Now.’ She begins by making it clear that heroism is made up of strength, courage, and love. Heroism always means doing something for other people, making sacrifices for others.”

“Yes,” agreed Julia, “Charlotte encourages women to go beyond being a wife or mother, to understand that we have a duty to the entire world. Despite being abused and despised, women need the courage to keep learning and living a new life.

“She ended the lecture reminding people, especially women, that a danger to progress is to try and please everyone. That’s impossible.

Charlotte Perkins Gilman photo by Frances Benjamin Johnston, copyright 1900. Image from Wikipedia.

“According to the newspaper article I read,” continued Julia, “Charlotte cautioned that you’ll be criticized and slandered whether you sit still or whether you do the work for social change. At the end of the lecture she asks, ‘Why not find the courage to make a difference?’”

“We’re fortunate to have our lives,” said Alice. “And congratulations on being awarded first prize at the closing Jubilee concert for the best contralto solo. Your beautiful vocal solos make Hutchinson proud.”

“Why, thank you,” responded Julia.

“You’re welcome here anytime,” said Alice, “just let me know if I can be of help. I hope you, Houston, and the children have a nice trip west. How old are Houston, Jr. and Ada now?”

“Houston, Jr. turned six last week; Ada is four. How about Harry and Susie?”

“Harry’s ten, Susie’s eight,” stated Alice. “Julia, thanks for reminding me how Charlotte Perkins Stetson continues to be a risk-taker, speaking her mind, helping improve the world. She’s a model for the rest of us.”

“Not everyone thinks she’s talented,” answered Julia. “Some people, including newspaper editors, think she’s just another hysterical woman out of touch with reality, trying to change the male-dominated social order.”

“I’m reminded how fortunate I am,” said Alice. “While Fay is busy at the courthouse, I’m working outside the home, here and with rentals. I thank God I’m not trapped in bed, staring at yellow wallpaper.”

*

Until next time, happy writing and reading.

The post Reno County: The Yellow Wallpaper appeared first on Sandhenge Publications.

Reno County: The Worst Week Ever for Florence Evaline Field Jordan

 

https://jimpotterauthor.com/wp-content/uploads/2021/05/Reno-County-The-Worst-Week-Ever-for-Florence-Evaline-Field-Jordan.mp3The Worst Week Ever for Florence Evaline Field Jordan

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Gravestone of Roy E. Jordan, June 18, 1875-May 6, 1900, Battery L, 3 US Artillery. Eastside Cemetery, Hutchinson, KS. Photo by author

It’s Sunday night, May 13, 1900, in Hutchinson, Kansas. Roy E. Jordan’s body is finally in the ground, buried at Eastside Cemetery.

*

When Florence read the wire the previous Monday evening, it was hard. She knew that her son, Roy, 24, had been so sick with dysentery that he had been sent back to the US from Manila, where he was stationed in the Philippines.  Stateside, since April 28, he’d been under care at the Army General Hospital in San Francisco.  

After Roy had been mustered out at the conclusion of the Spanish-American War, he returned safely home to Hutchinson. But, about six weeks later, with the eruption of the Philippine Insurrection, he reenlisted and was soon back in uniform.

Florence had hoped to see Roy soon. Now, re-reading the wire, the message was the same, but maybe, just maybe, she thought, there’d been a mix-up, a mistake. Maybe another boy had died who looked like Roy, another young man who was large, strong, and rugged.

*

Roy Jordan was patriotic, just like his dad, Allen. In 1861, at age 17, Allen Parley Jordan enlisted in Company K, 12th Regiment, Michigan Infantry, and didn’t muster out of his Civil War unit until 1866, after the war had ended.

Like his father, Roy responded to the first call for arms, enlisting at age 22, in the Second Missouri, at Carthage, in 1898, eager to join the fight in the Spanish-American War.

*

USS Maine, photograph, 1898. Sunk in Havana Harbor, February 15, 1898, three-quarters of her crew were killed. Spain was blamed for the explosion, especially by American newspapers engaged in yellow journalism. Photo online at Wikipedia.

Florence Evaline Field Jordan (b. Hamilton, Michigan, October 10, 1847), like mothers everywhere, never knew if or when she was saying a final goodbye to a child. She kissed and hugged Roy as he left for war the first time. Roy’s enlistment was largely a response to the USS Maine exploding and sinking in the harbor of Havana in February 1898. Spain was suspected for the treacherous act. The US military blamed it on a mine.

Florence wasn’t as angry at Spain as most of the nation. Sure, she felt for the families of the 266 crew members who perished, the loss of a two million dollar ship, and the Cuban people who were being brutalized by the Spanish. But, she also understood that the war cry, “To Hell with Spain, Remember the Maine!” could eventually take grown children farther away from their homes than during the Civil War.

Losing Allen, her husband, had been a long, difficult departure. He’d been sick for four years. When he died at Kalamazoo, Michigan, in 1888, he was 44, but his body and mind were in terrible shape, having wasted away.

When Allen died, she was 40. When Roy died, she was 52.

Roy had served for a year during the Philippine Insurrection, a member of Battery L, Third Artillery, when chronic dysentery caused his death. Friday night his body arrived by train in Hutchinson. On Sunday, they buried him.

*

Christian Church building, Hutchinson, KS, SE corner of Fifth & Main, 1885-1908. Reverend David Y. Donaldson preached here 1900-1903. Reverend Elmer Ward Cole served 1904-1908. Photo postcard photographed & published by Marion W. Bailey. Author’s collection

At Roy’s funeral, Rev. David Donaldson of the Christian Church gave a touching tribute to the patriotism and self-sacrifice of a fallen soldier. The GAR took charge of the funeral with Company E, Kansas National Guard, escorting the casket to the church, and later conducting a long cortege of carriages to Eastside Cemetery.

The graveside service was a beautiful ceremony of the Grand Army, followed by Rev. Donaldson’s prayer. After a final blessing and consecration, the guards fired the military salute over the grave. As the volleys rang out, the bugler stepped forward and sounded the touching and sweet bugle call, the last tribute of his comrades to the soldier dead. (Hutchinson News, May 14, 1900)

And as the notes of the bugle call died away, all was hushed but the sobs of the grief-stricken mother and sisters, and the sighs of a score of mourning friends and comrades. And Hutchinson had given another of her bravest to her country. Ibid.

*

Now, with Roy gone, Florence craved the comfort of her family and a friend of Roy’s.

Florence sat in the parlor of her home at 831 East Second, Hutchinson, with her two daughters, Lena (Allene), 26; Verne (LaVerne), 18; her son, the youngest child, Hubert, 16; and her 83-old mother, Samantha Field.

Adelbert, 28, her oldest, hadn’t made the trip since he was back east in Maryland, with his wife, Elizabeth, who was expecting their second child—Florence’s second grandbaby—any day.

“John,” said Florence, referring to John Dalby (also spelled Dalbey), a good friend of Roy’s, “tell me about your work at the Missouri Pacific.

“I’m busy from morning to night,” answered John, as he laughed.

“You must be efficient to keep track of all that freight in all those cars,” said Florence.

“Yes,” agreed John, “the daily reports of a car clerk would make a horse choke. I keep track of the arrivals and departures, but also the condition of the contents, and who gets billed.”

“Is that similar to the work of a freight inspector?” asked Florence, knowingly.

“It’s similar,” replied John. “Gus Hamner is Hutchinson’s freight inspector. He works for all the railroads, not just one. Gus inspects the freight shipped from this station to see that it’s properly classified, and in accordance with the railroad rules and agreements.”

Florence observed Allene, or Lena, who didn’t bat an eyelash at the sound of Gus’s name.

“Tell me again,” said Florence to John, “what was it like for you and Roy, spending months in Georgia waiting to be sent to the fighting?”

“In May of ’98, we, the 2nd Missouri, were mustered into Federal Service at Jefferson Barracks and sent to Camp Thomas, at Chickamauga National Military Park in Georgia. The germs and the weather of north Georgia, not the Spaniards, became our enemies. (“2nd Missouri Volunteer Infantry,” online article, no publication date listed, by Todd J. Wilkinson.  His article has been quoted extensively for this essay.)

“The train trip south was an adventure,” recalled John. “When we passed through towns, especially Indianapolis, Cincinnati, and then Chickamauga, the local citizens turned out with sandwiches and coffee for us, served up by crowds of pretty girls.”

Florence observed Verne listening to John and watched her face grow pink. She also observed a sparkle in her daughter’s eyes.

“We camped about three miles inside the park,” continued John, “on terrain that reminded us of the Ozarks, on a hillside, with ground so rocky we split our tent pins.  And the mud from the recent rains would have made a Missouri pig oink. Because we were in the shade of the forest all day long, we had a ‘wet camp.’ The sun never dried us out.

“As other regiments arrived, the Second was assigned to the 3rd Brigade, 3rd Division of the First Army Corps. By the end of May there were 80,000 soldiers in camp at Chickamauga, waiting for orders to move to the front.

“But, because of politics, probably, the 2nd was never sent to Cuba. Our colonel was a Free-silver Republican while President McKinley, as you know, still favors the current gold standard.”

Florence took a deep breath and said, “politics.”

“In June, the typhoid epidemic began,” said John. “Being in the Hospital Corps, John saved lives. Thousands of soldiers caught the disease, mostly from the numerous flies that always followed an army. Much of the typhoid, cholera, and other diseases had to do with our transition to army rations. We went from the good fare of civilian life to hardtack, bacon, and army coffee.”

During the summer we drilled constantly, five hours each day, as well as working on various fatigue details. After we moved our camp to an open plain, and out of the woods, our health improved.

“By the middle of July, the fighting in Cuba had ended with the surrender of Spanish forces. The Second was held for possible service in Cuba on occupation duty, but later in the summer we were moved to Lexington, Kentucky, not Havana, Cuba.

In October, orders came for the Second to prepare to embark to Mantanzas, Cuba. But again, we couldn’t believe our ears when we learned our destination was Albany, Georgia. The Second stayed in that city over the winter, but I found a way to escape Georgia and land in Cuba.”

“Commanding officer Captain Frank Lyman, Jr. gave all his men an opportunity to obtain discharges, if they wanted. In order to replace the men departing, the Signal Corps made it known that they wanted skilled telegraphers and electricians. My experience at Western Union gave me a leg up for this higher paying duty.”

*

“Someday,” said John, in conclusion, “I’d like to return to the island.”

“That would be interesting,” replied Verne as she considered a trip for two.

*

Suddenly sobbing, Florence asked Roy the question that had been bombarding her thoughts for the last week: “Was Roy’s death worth it?”

“Mrs. Jordan, I mean Florence,” said John, “I’m sorry for your deep, personal loss. While Roy’s death pains us all, he understood the risk. We discussed the possibility of returning home in a box. I know, he never wanted to hurt you, or Verne, Lena, Hubert, Adelbert, or Mrs. Field. With the loss of Allen, you’ve already all been through enough. But, Roy was clear about his feelings, to him his sacrifice was worth it.

“Thank you,” Florence replied, “I’ll remember your kind words, your honesty, and for informing me that he saved others. He never told me.”

*

Until next time, happy writing and reading.

The post Reno County: The Worst Week Ever for Florence Evaline Field Jordan appeared first on Sandhenge Publications.

Reno County: When Two Deaths Make a Marriage

 

https://jimpotterauthor.com/wp-content/uploads/2021/05/Reno-County-When-Two-Deaths-Make-a-Marriage-online-audio-converter.com_.mp3· When Two Deaths Make a Marriage

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Presbyterian Church, Hutchinson, Kansas. Photo postcard published by Marion W. Bailey, 1910. Conard-Harmon Collection Postcard of Presbyterian Church, SE corner of Sherman & Poplar, Hutchinson, Kans. Unknown year, but this stone church was completed in 1888, after its wooden predecessor, the first church built in Hutchinson, was moved from the corner. Published by International Post Card Co., NY. No date. Author’s collection

It’s Wednesday evening, January 2, 1901, at the home of Mrs. Mary E. Ingram Wilson, 114 9th Avenue East, Hutchinson, Kansas. Shortly, Reverend Anderson Forbes (A. F.) Irwin will be performing a marriage between a widow and a widower.

*

Hutchinson has been a good move for me, Belle, and the children, thought Anderson, as he considered the past twelve years serving as pastor of the First Presbyterian Church, arriving from Peoria, Illinois, in early 1889, months after the elegant  stone church was completed on the southeast corner of Sherman and Poplar. 

Rev. Anderson Forbes Irwin (1850-1902) served as pastor of the First Presbyterian Church, Hutchinson, KS, from 1889-1902. Thanks to Rita Eldridge, Admin. Asst., at the church for helping with this photo.

When Anderson, 38; his wife, Belle M. Anderson, 32; and five children, arrived in Hutchinson, the congregation of the First Presbyterian Church was welcoming. In recent years, despite the pastor’s declining health, the members continue to support his leadership.

*

Anderson recalled the stories he’d heard about the early days when there were no church buildings, when public religious services for people of all faiths met in a butcher shop on Main Street. Back then, on the Sabbath, the tables and meat blocks were pushed back, chairs gathered, and an improvised pulpit set up for a preacher, one usually passing through, looking for a more established community than Hutchinson. (History of Reno County, Kansas: Its People, Industries and Institutions, VI, Sheridan Ploughe, B. F. Bowen & Co, Indianapolis, Indiana, 1917, p243.)

The town’s founder, C. C. Hutchinson, offered three lots free and a cash bonus as incentive for the first church to be built. The First Presbyterian Church won the race, with a building dedication in June 1873, and since then Hutchinson has grown and prospered, and so has the church (Ploughe, p244).

Just like the adult residents of Hutchinson, the Irwin family was from somewhere else. Anderson and Belle were born in Pennsylvania. Four of their five children were born in Illinois.

As Reverend Anderson prepared to join Mary “May” E. Ingram Wilson, and “Captain” John M. Hedrick together in sacred matrimony, he conjectured that in his position he had officiated more funerals than weddings. One funeral service he recalled was Smith Wilson’s, husband of Mary. It was held at the church on October 11, 1893. Smith had died after a sudden attack of paralysis, having been in feeble health for some time.

Nearly four years later, on August 20, 1897, John Hedrick’s wife, “Kate,” or Catherine Ann Kneister, died of cancer after a painful but patient suffering. Reverend Irwin was again called on to officiate the funeral, held at the Hedrick home five miles southeast of Hutchinson.

Miss Kate Kneister was the daughter of John and Nancy (Armstrong) Kneister, of Madison County, Ohio. Kate and John M. Hedrick married October 9, 1865 after he mustered out of his Civil War Regiment on July 15, 1865.

Kate left husband John; two daughters, Dollie (also spelled Dolly) May Hedrick Wainner, and Joanna (also spelled Johanna) Fay Hedrick Wainner; and a son, Edward McKee; to mourn the loss of a noble wife and mother.

*

Eastside Cemetery, Hutchinson, KS. Photo by author

In the fall of 1900, John and Mary visited Eastside Cemetery with plans to marry. They had graves to visit and one-sided conversations to initiate.

John greeted Ann. “I miss you every day,” said her husband, “and every night. Edward looks after me but he’s a son, not a partner. Mary Ingram Smith and I plan to marry, but we’ve agreed to be buried by our first love. My resting place will be next to you.”

Smith Wilson, Eastside Cemetery

“Hello, honey,” Mary said to Smith, her late husband. “I’m here to ask you for your blessing on my upcoming marriage to John Hedrick, a good man, and good soldier, who fought for the Union.”

Mary also wept for Jamie, their son, who was taken from her bosom in 1885 when he was only seven years old.

John & Eliza Woolery, and a 3 month-old infant, were buried at Eastside Cemetery in 1877. The unmarked graves are in the foreground. Cemetery Records of Reno County, Kansas,: 1865-1978, Reno County Genealogical Society, no date of publication. Thanks to Eastside Cemetery Sexton Zachary Phillips for checking the cemetery records. Photo by author

And Mary thought of Lindley James Woolery*, a traumatized boy. She and Smith adopted the ten-year-old after his parents, and a three-month-old infant, died in 1887. Lindley joined the married couple just two years after their son’s death. The newcomer slept in the same bed where Jamie had slept.

Smith family marker. Eastside Cemetery. Photo by author Inscription reads: “Jaime, son of S & M Wilson. Died Feb 19, 1885. Aged 7Y, 10M, 7D” Photo by author

Unfortunately, Lindley, a self-willed and troubled boy, bumped heads with her husband who was already in ill health. A near fatal encounter occurred when Lindley, at age 14 in 1892, shot an old Harper Ferry’s musket at his adoptive father, but wounded the elder’s horse instead.

Due to Lindley’s age, the law was limited with its choices despite the serious charge of intent to kill. Rather than sending the boy to a man’s penitentiary, Lindley was escorted to the reform school in Topeka for boys. Lindley would remain there until he attained age of majority or was excused from the institution for good behavior.

It was unfair. Mary and John had expected too much from Lindley. Unconsciously, the two grieving parents had hoped the boy would, in some small way, replace the child that had left a hole in their heart. At the same time, they were trying their best to be good guardians for Lindley, understanding that just as they couldn’t forget Jamie, Lindley would never forget his real parents.

In 1893, a year-and-a-half after Lindley was sent to Topeka, Mary’s loving husband was dead.

Upon Lindley’s release, he returned to his home state of Ohio to start a new life.

*

Reverend Irwin cleared his voice and continued the wedding ceremony. Reading scripture about the benefits of marriage, he said:

“Two are better than one, because they have a good return for their labor. If either of them falls down, one can help the other up. But pity anyone who falls and has no one to help them up. Also, if two lie down together, they will keep warm. But how can one keep warm alone? Though one may be overpowered, two can defend themselves. A cord of three strands is not quickly broken. Ecclesiastes 4:9-12.” 

*

Note: Becky Wolary informs me that in her family research she has found her surname spelled Wolary, Wolery, and Woolery.

*

Until next time, happy writing and reading.

The post Reno County: When Two Deaths Make a Marriage appeared first on Sandhenge Publications.

Reno County: Searching for Alice

 

https://jimpotterauthor.com/wp-content/uploads/2021/04/Reno-County-Searching-for-Alice.mp3· Searching for Alice, Finding Elizabeth:Alice Elizabeth Thomas Hartford

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This photo is from the Hutchinson News, February 13, 1935, announcing the death of Mrs. Alice E. Hartford.

It’s Tuesday, February 12, 1935, at 108 E. 14th Street, Hutchinson, Kansas. Alice Elizabeth Thomas Hartford, 80, is on her death bed.

*

Eastside Cemetery, Hutchinson, KS, Photo by author

“Ethel, Ethel,” Elizabeth cried out, “stay with us, we love you.” Elizabeth was talking to her eldest daughter who was dying of typhoid malaria on a Saturday night, September 8, 1894, when Ethel Winter was 15 years old.

“You’re our pride and joy, Ethel,” continued Elizabeth. “You’re so bright and accomplished. School awaits you.”

But, the grim reaper stepped in and claimed Ethel for his own.

*

Eastside Cemetery. Photo by author

“Harry,” said Elizabeth, “I still remember the day your father started treating me as a woman, not just a neighbor girl. Our family had known the Hartfords since we homesteaded in 1873. Back then Little River Township was larger than it is today. Your father helped promote our very own Medora Township.

“We married February 28, 1879. As with you and Jennie, there was a big age difference between us, but it was of no consequence. Henry was a Civil War veteran, a stockman, and farmer. He’d already been Reno County sheriff. I’d been a school teacher. He was 42. I was 25.”

*

Obee School, erected 1873, unknown date of photo. Credit to Reno County Historical Society.

“Etta and May, I’m so proud of both of you for being school teachers in Hutchinson,” said Elizabeth, “and look at you now, May, a principal.

“Teachers help change the world. It was 1875 when I was hired to be the teacher in District 32, Obee School. The one-room schoolhouse is long gone now, replaced by a modern building.

“Free schools were important to a free country. For me, it was quite the stepping out party.

“It was difficult and exhilarating. The school terms were short, the students interested in their studies, but attendance was determined by their farm chores and the weather.”

*

“Daile,” said Elizabeth, “your papa raised pure-blood Shorthorn cattle, Berkshire hogs, and crops; I raised you children. We all accomplished a lot. Now, you and John have loving children.”

*

Eastside Cemetery. Photo by author

“Grandma Hartford, is that you?” asked Elizabeth, speaking of Henry’s mother who died in 1904 at age 92.

“Yes, dear, it’s me,” answered Martha.

“You lived a long life,” said Elizabeth. “I’ll see you soon.”

“Life is nothing without death,” said Martha. “The machinery of life wears out and then we go to our just reward.”

*

Photograph from History of Reno County, Kansas: It’s People, Industries and Institutions, Vol 2, by Sheridan Ploughe (B.F. Bowen & Co., 1917)

“Henry, you were a courageous man,” said Elizabeth. “In 1913, when you visited Gettysburg for the battle’s 50th anniversary, I was concerned whether you’d survive the memories. You were already my champion. I knew you were a hero on the battlefield, having been wounded twice at Gettysburg, but I was worried what the visit might do to you. I remember hearing about you being sent home to die and how your mother probed the wound in your hip because it wouldn’t heal. Fortunately, she found a piece of your uniform. She saved your life.”

*

Hillsview Stock Farm, 1893 (2.5 miles east of Medora, KS). Collection of Lynne Hartford. L-R: Henry Hartford (1837-1919), Ethel Winter Hartford (1879-1894), Ida Massingale (hired girl), Etta Dale Hartford (1881-1957), Martha “May” Hartford (1889-1980), Alice Elizabeth Thomas Hartford (1854-1935), Nina “Daile” Hartford (1886-1980), Ben Decker, Harry Emmet Hartford (1879-1968), “Grandma” Martha Hartford (1812-1904) in doorway.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“We all grew close together at Hillsview,” said Elizabeth. “It was our home for births and birthdays, marriages, deaths, and holidays. Eventually though, one thousand acres was too much of a ranch for us to handle.”

“It was another world from being born in Londonderry County, Ireland,” said Henry. “My father was a coach maker, but you and I drove automobiles.”

*

“Hello, Elizabeth,” said a voice. “It’s Sarah King from the Needlecraft Club.”

“Have you made any fancywork recently?” asked Elizabeth.

“You know us,” said Sarah with a laugh, “needlecraft is only an excuse for gossiping and eating.”

*

Soldiers’ & Sailors’ Monument at First Ave. & Walnut Street, Hutchinson. Unknown artisans. Photo by author Eastside Cemetery. Photo by author

“Henry,” said Elizabeth, “the 30 foot tall monument represents all Union veterans of the war. I’m so glad you lived long enough to see it. Citizens, especially today, need a reminder of the sacrifices made by individuals who fought and died to keep this country as one.”

“Elizabeth,” said Henry, “your leadership with the Women’s Relief Club, locally and at the state level, has honored countless veterans. The programs of the Grand Army of the Republic wouldn’t have been successful without women as the doers, preparing the flowers and wreaths that decorated graves.”

Click the following link to see Alice Elizabeth Hartford’s  US Army Widow Pension Record 

*

Emily Hopkins Thomas, 1832-1927; & Joseph V. Thomas, 1831-1899. Photo permission by “Zeno from Find-A-Grave.” Timberlake Cemetery, Cherokee, Alfalfa County, OK.

“Mother,” said Elizabeth, “us women have to bear life without our husbands. When you two married in 1852 in Jennings, Indiana, did you imagine you’d outlive Papa by 28 years?”

“Elizabeth,” replied Emily, “We were about the same age and we figured we’d live a long life together. You know what they say about looking too far into the future, ‘if you want to make god laugh, tell him your plans.’

Elizabeth gave a weak smile, laughed, then coughed uncontrollably.

“You’re coming home, Elizabeth,” said her mother. “We’ll see you on the other side.”

*

“Elizabeth,” said Henry, “I’ll be with you soon. You were the love of my life. You were a woman of great character and clarity. You were of pioneer stock and weathered days of hard living in a new country, yet you were always prim and proper. You were a leader in many phases of your life, especially around Medora and in Hutchinson. Together, we raised the best children in the world. Thank you for all you’ve done and for who you were.”

*

First Christian Church, southeast corner of 5th & Main, Hutchinson. Photo by Marion W. Bailey, 1909. Author’s collection Eastside Cemetery. Photo by author

Elizabeth died the night of Tuesday, February 12, 1935. Her funeral services were held two days later at 3:30 o’clock from the First Christian Church in Hutchinson, Kansas, where she was a long-time member. Reverend Claude J. Miller was in charge of internment at Eastside Cemetery.

*

“Blessed Assurance” is a Christian song sung by Alan Jackson (2017), but the text was written in 1873, the year the Hartford and Thomas families settled in Little River Township, Reno County, as neighbors. The text was written by Fanny Crosby and the melody by Phoebe Knapp.

Click the following link to hear the 2:20 minute recording by Alan Jackson https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6vfqYwfTqlE

Thanks so much to Lynne Hartford for helping me answer questions about her ancestors that I couldn’t find in the US Census, a city directory, or in an old newspaper. “Alice” is the name used in her widow’s pension paperwork, in her obituary, and on her gravestone, but with friends and family she answered to “Elizabeth.”

*

Note: Historian Arthur M. Schlesinger, Jr. once said, “For women have constituted the most spectacular casualty of traditional history. They have made up at least half the human race; but you could never tell that by looking at the books historians write. The forgotten man is nothing to the forgotten woman.” Introduction to the book, Pioneer Women: Voices from the Kansas Frontier, by Joanna L. Stratton (Simon & Schuster, 1981).

*

Until next time, happy writing and reading.

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Reno County: Grasshopper Invasion of 1874

 

https://jimpotterauthor.com/wp-content/uploads/2021/04/Reno-County-Picnic-Grasshoppers.mp3· Reno County Picnic: Grasshoppers·Settlers in Kansas had to deal with the worst weather. Droughts followed by floods followed by blizzards, busted many a pioneer. There were also grasshoppers and/or locusts. The voracious insects could strip a field of corn for lunch and devour clothes off a nearby clothesline for dessert. In the worst of times, farmers sold their farms, if they could, and headed back east. Many of those who remained, developed an odd sense of survivor humor. This postcard, titled “Rare Sport in the West,” is an example of an exaggeration postcard using self-deprecating humor. Rather than complain about mother nature, settlers learned to tell tall tales and laugh at their unfortunate circumstances. This photo postcard was created and copyrighted in 1909  by Marion W. Bailey (1869-1944), an early-day Hutchinson, Kansas, photographer. Author’s collection

It’s August 3, 1899, at the Old Settlers’ of Reno County picnic in Riverside Park, Hutchinson, Kansas.

Loretta McMillan Collins, 51, eating watermelon; Sarah Jane Riddle McMurry, 45, drinking blackberry cider; and Julia Clementine Latimer Whiteside, 31, eating fresh cherry pie; are sitting in the shade. They’re all wearing fancy hats and talking about the good ole’ days.

However, at age 31, Julia’s hardly eligible to be considered an old settler. Born May 6, 1868, in Jackson, Tennessee, she’s young enough to be a daughter of her husband, Houston Whiteside, Sr.

In 1888, Julia came to Hutchinson to visit her aunt. Julia met Houston and they married the following year in Memphis, Tennessee, at her uncle’s, her father having died in 1887. Julia was 20, Houston was 43.

Julia Clementine Latimer Whiteside inscription on the crypt in the mausoleum

Their two children, Ada, 7; and Houston, Jr., 9; are nearby. Ada’s drawing in a sketchbook; Houston Jr. is catching grasshoppers.

Sarah Riddle, born April 16, 1844, in Bellefonte, Pennsylvania, married Jonathan McMurry, 27, in Shannon, Illinois, in 1867, when she was 23.

Sarah Jane Riddle McMurry gravestone

Sarah and John have enough children, seven to be exact, that just updating friends about their extended family could monopolize a conversation. Today, only their youngest, Edith, 15, is with them at the picnic. She’s listening to her elders.

Loretta McMillan, 51, born September 21, 1848, in Leavenworth County, KS, married Charles Collins, 22, at Lawrence, Kansas, in 1866, when she was 18.

Loretta McMillan Collins gravestone

“How is Charles?” Loretta Collins asks Sarah McMurry. This is always the question. The inquiry represents a long-standing bond between families. Charles Collins was the first sheriff of Reno County. He appointed John McMurry his undersheriff. Their mutual respect and family ties led Sarah and John to name their third child in his honor. Charles Collins McMurry was born in April 1872, three months after the county’s first election.

“He’s fine, thanks,” replied Sarah. “He and his wife, Rose; and Vernon, their one-year-old, are well.”

“Look at the men,” said Loretta, pointing her jaw towards their husbands. They must be telling war stories.”

“Sure looks like it,” agreed Sarah, “when John gets excited, he talks with his hands. Now he’s pointing towards his thighs. That’s where he was severely wounded at Big Hatchie during the battle in Tennessee.”

“Now, Houston’s grabbing his bad arm,” responds Julia. “I’m just glad they can get together and talk. Even though we both survived the devastation of the Civil War, Houston knows that I’ll never fully understand what it’s like to be permanently scarred. You can’t explain war.”

“The war scarred a lot of people, not only men,” said Loretta. “While they were off, our families were home, doing their best under trying circumstances.”

Photo by the author near his garden

Changing the subject, Loretta said, “Watching little Houston catch grasshoppers reminds me of the Rocky Mountain locust invasion of 1874.”

“Those ‘hoppers came out of nowhere from the west during that dry and hot summer,” said Sarah. “For days they obscured the sun, flying high in the air; they looked like snowflakes in a snowstorm.

“Streams of grasshoppers would detach from the main body, coming to the ground and devouring corn stalks and anything green. When they landed on our house, they sounded like a rainstorm.”

“Some people thought the swarms of locusts were a sign of the end of the world,” said Loretta. “They quoted Exodus 10 where the Lord told Moses to have locusts swarm over the land of Egypt and to have them devour everything growing in the fields.”

“I wasn’t here in Reno County for the state’s grasshopper plague,” said Julia, “but Houston said the farmers were devastated because when the grasshoppers, or locusts, devoured their crops, they also ate the grains for the following year’s crops and the feed for their work animals.”

“They ate everything but the mortgage,” said Sarah, with a half-smile. “They would eat clothes off the clothesline, get into houses and clean out food in the cupboards. At night, people had to shake bedding to dislodge the grasshoppers before retiring.

“I heard about a woman who was wearing a white dress with a green stripe. The grasshoppers settled on her and ate up every bit of the green stripe in that dress before anything could be done about it.

“I can still hear the crunch of the grasshoppers underfoot when we walked outside. We couldn’t avoid them.”

“Farms were lost and many settlers returned to their former communities back east, broke and defeated,” said Loretta. “A good many families would have starved to death or frozen in their homes without the aid of communities outside of Kansas.”

*

“The frequent rains and flooding in May and June of 1877 in Hutchinson were another memorable event,” said Sarah. “When Cow Creek flooded, two-thirds of the city was inundated. The Main Street businesses had two feet of mud and water rush into their buildings.”

“Sidewalks were wooden, not stone,” added Loretta. “I remember the sidewalks at First and Main being washed away, even though they were staked down. Rowboats were used to ferry people who wished to remain high and dry.”

“On some streets, even riding a horse was dangerous due to the high waters,” added Sarah. “One man was drowned crossing the creek.”

*

Blizzard of 1888. Author’s collection

When Sarah started to recall the blizzard of 1888, Loretta realized that Julia would again be left out of the conversation.

Sarah was aware from the society page in the News that Julia and Houston regularly entertained honored guests at their home on east Sherman. Julia was often described as having a beautiful and cultured voice, being a ‘silvery soprano.’

“Was it difficult for you to adjust to Hutchinson from your life in Tennessee and Ohio?” asked Loretta?

“Houston made it easy for me,” answered Julia, “and the timing was right. My father had died the year before we met. When I visited my aunt here in Hutchinson, Houston and I were attracted to one another. He paraded me around as a classical amateur singer.”

“Did you have plans for the stage?” asked Loretta, knowing she may have gotten too personal.

Julia hesitated just a second before answering. “Neither Houston or I were prepared for a career in theater, although I had offers for professional services. We didn’t need the money,” replied Julia. “Instead, we’ve chosen to support the cultural arts. Houston expects a home theater to be built in a couple of years.

“Recently, at a celebration at home I sang, Non Mi Dir (Don’t Tell Me), from Don Giovanni, by Mozart.”

*

“It looks like John is getting his fiddle out,” said Sarah. I’ll bet he’s going to play Fisher’s Hornpipe or Money Musk.

“While I’m trained in classical music, I enjoy good music anytime,” said Julia, as she stood up, ready to move closer to John who was preparing to play.

Julia saw her husband walking towards her with his good hand outstretched. She reached for it. 

*

If you’re interested in what Julia Clementine Latimer Whiteside’s soprano voice might have sounded like in the 1880s and 1890s, click here: http://youtube.com/watch?v=HcD_Mi-7Kcc

Edita Gruberova, at age 63, in 2010, sings the classical song Non Mi Dir, by Mozart. The musical piece is 6:31 minutes long.      

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One resource: History of Reno County, Kansas: Its People, Industries and Institutions, V1, (B. B. Bowen & Company, Indianapolis, Indiana, 1917), by Sheridan Ploughe. 

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Until next time, happy writing and reading.

The post Reno County: Grasshopper Invasion of 1874 appeared first on Sandhenge Publications.

Reno County: Civil War Stories

https://jimpotterauthor.com/wp-content/uploads/2021/04/Old-Settlers-of-Reno-County-Picnic-Civil-War-Stories.mp3· Old Settlers’ of Reno County Picnic: Civil War Stories·Jonathan “John” McMurry (1840-1914). Thanks to Larry E. Barnes for sharing this photo. He obtained it from Richard L. McMurry, Sr. (1930-2008). Houston Whiteside (1846-1941). Unknown publication.

The three men had often heard each others’ stories, but they were good listeners, and good friends. Charles Collins, John McMurry, and Houston Whiteside, all recalled the good old days, even when they were bad.  

*

It’s Thursday, August 3, 1899, at Riverside Park in Hutchinson, Kansas. With the picnic dinner nearly over, early-day settlers are moving more slowly. They better hurry home for a nap. There’s a big dance in the evening.

*

Thanks to the Old Settlers’ Association of Reno County, residents who were once friends and neighbors have congregated and are sharing their pioneer memories of Kansas.

Houston, 53, eating fresh cherry pie; Charles, 55, spitting watermelon seeds; and John, 59, drinking coffee with fresh cream from his Jersey milch cows, sit in the shade. They can’t talk about Kansas until they address the War. It was the singular, life-changing event in their lives.  

The men agree on one thing: the younger generation doesn’t understand sacrifice. After surviving the Civil War—grasshopper invasions, floods, and droughts are merely inconveniences.

People who were paying attention learned quickly that in frontier towns every settler was from somewhere else. That was certainly true of Hutchinson and Reno County.

Houston Whiteside was born and raised in Shelbyville, Tennessee. Charles Collins was born in Montgomery, Alabama, and raised in Leavenworth, Kansas. John McMurry was born in Donegal, Pennsylvania, and as a young man moved with his parents and siblings to Shannon, Illinois. When it was in its infancy, all three men met in Hutchinson, Kansas before the first railroad had arrived.

The general public, rightly so, thought of firsts for the county. Collins was the first sheriff, McMurry was the first Worshipful Master of Hutchinson’s Masonic lodge and first undersheriff, and Whiteside was the first editor—or co-editor—of the Hutchinson News.

But when the men gathered together, they were boys again, and their selective memories recalled special moments.

The Rebellion, or Civil War—a fight between citizens of one country—would always define them. The men had served a national purpose but were still trying to figure out if anything they had done had made a difference.

Before Kansas, all three men recalled 1861.

“I was 15 when Fort Sumter fell,” said Houston, often referred to as “Judge” by friends and acquaintances.

“I was 16 and wanted to get in the fight before the war was over,” Charlie recalled with a laugh. Judge and John, remembering the early days after Sumter had surrendered, joined him with a chuckle. Few people, military or civilian, imagined a war lasting four bloody years that would eventually kill 620,000 soldiers.

“In Tennessee, we were in the middle of it before I could ever get in uniform,” said Judge. “Tennessee was in the path of the armies, and hardly a week passed throughout the long years of the war but soldiers of either the Union Army or the Confederate passed through Bedford County.

“I grew up in a family that owned slaves. I was born and bred in Tennessee, a state with slavery. Our sympathies were divided. We were slave holders, and had no use for abolitionists, and yet we were not secessionists. Tennessee was loyal to the union.

“We were constantly raided by one side or the other seeking food and forage. Part of my work during the war was to hide out with the stock, and try to keep the animals hidden from the soldiers.

“Being a youth of 15, instead of trying to enlist like Charlie, I served with other young men of the community in a patrol guard, an armed and mounted guard. We sought to preserve the peace against the bandits and marauders.”

It was on patrol that I was severely injured when I was thrown from my horse, Houston thought, as he touched his useless arm and remembered the first, sharp pain.

Houston considered what to say and what to leave out. His father had died nearly a decade before the war. His father’s two brothers left home together for the war, one enlisting in the Union Army, and the other in the Confederate forces, and they fought against each other. One was killed at Chickamauga, wearing the blue; the other was badly wounded, as a rebel.

“I was 15, and now I’m 53,” said Judge. “It was a long time ago, but it feels like it was only yesterday.” 

Judge stopped. He was done. He looked at Charlie, then John. 

Houston Whiteside gravestone link

Jonathan nodded to Charlie who hesitated, his dark eyes no longer matching his once coal-black hair.

“I was 16 in 1861,” said Charlie. “Twice I enlisted without my parents’ consent. Twice my father located me and had the Union Army discharge me.

“But on the third try, I traveled to St. Louis with some boys where I enlisted under an assumed name. I said I was foreign born, making it nearly impossible to be located by my parents.

For fun, John asked Charlie, “What name did you enlist under?”

“Michael Crook,” answered Charlie, innocently.

“So, you were a crook before you were sheriff?” asked John, as his mouth turned up into a grin.”

It was an old joke. Charlie had heard it before.

“I was in the Fifth US Artillery, Battery H,” said Collins. “Our regiment joined the Army of the Cumberland where I was detailed as General Buell’s army escort, taking part in different campaigns. I was in the battles of Shiloh, Stone River, Crab Orchard, Chickamauga, Mission Ridge, and for a time had charge of the forage train of Cook’s Division.”

Charlie thought of the men he had served with and the friends who had died. Disease had been more deadly than a bullet, bayonet, or cannonball.

Charles Collins gravestone link

*

“I was an old man of 21 when I enlisted in Company G, 46th Regiment Illinois Volunteer Infantry,” said John. “Joined up at Freeport, Illinois, and mustered at Camp Butler. I participated in engagements at Fort Donelson, Shiloh, Siege of Corinth, and Big Hatchie.

“In Tennessee at the Battle of the Hatchie, I was severely wounded, but first to fall was Colonel John A. Davis who died a few days later.

“I was very badly wounded, being shot through both thighs.  While in the hospital, I had to fight off one of the sawbones with my crutch to prevent him from cutting off my leg. The butcher seemed more determined to sever limbs than save them.

“I kept remembering Shiloh and the piles of arms and legs outside the surgery tent. There were shoes or boots on many of the feet. And I thought of my family and how I didn’t want to be a burden on them if I came home an amputee.

“I was discharged for disability in 1863. For a few years I was disabled entirely from active life, one of my feet was partially paralyzed.”

*

“Now that we’ve relived our fighting days, I’m ready for something upbeat,” said Charlie. “Do you have a fiddle in that fiddle case,” he asked, smiling.

“Sure do,” said John. “I agreed to play a tune here this afternoon in order to promote the band tonight.”

“For weeks, people around here have been looking forward to your musical return to Hutchinson,” said Charlie. “The old settlers remember that a dance in the early 1870’s wasn’t a dance without the McMurry Brothers String Band.”

“We’ve practiced a bit,” said John. “I restrung my fiddle so we can play those old tunes to a frazzle. Our music will be better than it was 25 years ago.”

“I’ll be right back,” said Houston. “Julia won’t want to miss a single note. She’s over there talking with Loretta and Sarah.”

“What song are you going to play?” asked Charlie.

“Fisherman’s Hornpipe,” replied John. “But it will be a whole lot better when my brothers join me tonight.”

“You McMurray boys are so talented,” said Charlie. “Mount Hope’s lucky to have your families live in the community. Your music has always knocked my socks off.”

Jonathan McMurry gravestone link

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If you’re interested in watching and listening to an entertaining fiddler play one of the oldest fiddle tunes that was ever written down in sheet music, you’re in luck. Click at the YouTube link below to hear PeakFiddler play “Fisherman’s Hornpipe,” straight from his home in England. It’s length is only 2 minutes, 38 seconds. (Permission not required, but obtained.)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=E_guHkJdvoQ

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Until next time, happy writing and reading.

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