Pennington County Biographies - Part V These biographies are from "Eastern Pennington County Memories", published by The American Legion Auxilliary, Carrol McDonald Unit, Wall, South Dakota and is uploaded with their kind permission. Pages 134-158 Scan, OCR and editing by Maurice Krueger, mkrueger@iw.net, 1999. This file may be freely copied by individuals and non-profit organizations for their private use. Any other use, including publication, storage in a retrieval system, or transmission by electronic, mechanical, or other means requires the written approval of the file's author. This file is part of the SDGENWEB Archives. If you arrived here inside a frame or from a link from somewhere else, our front door is at http://www.usgwarchives.net/sd/sdfiles.htm Frank Williams Story by Bud Williams Frank Williams and Hazel Percy were born and raised in Nebraska. They were married there and came to South Dakota to homestead north of Belvidere. They lived in a tar-paper covered shack 8 x 10 feet. Here they boarded the school teachers. They often told of the rattlesnakes being so thick. They killed so many they even dreamed of them at night. I recall them telling about one night they must of both been dreaming - Dad said he was dreaming when Mom, also dreaming told dad there was a rattlesnake by the bed. When dad jumped from the bed and hit the floor, he woke up. Merle, my oldest sister, was born there in 1912. I recall a bad blizzard and snow storm when they were on the homestead. In late May the cattle and horses had shed off their winter coats and so a large number of them were chilled and died. The folks moved sixteen miles north of Wall where another sister, Pearl, was born in 1914 and I was born on this place too. They lived on a rented farm for some years and farmed with horses. They had hardships like all the rest of the homesteaders. I recall one summer during the harvest season Dad had another place leased and was cutting grain there. It was three miles from where we lived. He was caught in a storm. When he saw he couldn't make it home before it hit he unhooked the four horses from the grain binder and turned them loose and started for home, a quarter of a mile away, on foot. When it started to hail and blow, dad laid face down on the ground with his hands over the back of his head. When the storm let up enough so he thought he could get home he got up and tried to run, but he said he was so cold and stiff he could hardly walk. His clothes were in shreds over the portion of his body that was exposed to the storm and skin was beat off the back of his hands. The hail was so jagged it cut the cattle and horses. It killed birds, chickens, rabbits, and broke things about the farm. A few horseback riders had stopped at the place to get out of the storm. They were on their way to a dance at Tom Parkin's, only a mile and a half away. The storm took a couple of the saddle horses from the farm. It took them over two fences. When they found the horses one of them didn't have the saddle or bridle on and they didn't find the saddle and bridles until later. The saddle and bridles were still buckled up. The only way it could have been pulled off that way was to stretch the horse and pull the saddle and bridle off. The storm blew nearly all the windows out of the house. It wrecked small buildings and it moved the large barn from the foundation. It tore the windmill down. In 1919 or 1920 the folks moved to the farm they had bought which was fifteen miles north and five miles west from Wall in the Cheyenne River breaks. Just above the O-S-O Ranch where Al Trask lived for years. Milo, Dale, Lynn and Loy were born on this place. In about 1924 or 25 in the summertime the house burned down, burning everything except what we were wearing, which wasn't much. The fire was started by a faulty kerosene stove which exploded and filled the house with gas and fumes. Mom was behind the house. She put a wet towel over her head and face and tried to get in the house to save a few keepsakes and forty dollars that was on the dresser, but she couldn't. A younger brother Lynn was about 2 years old at the time. He had just awakened and had come out of the house when the fire started. Dad had a claim shack that he and the neighbors moved with skids onto the burned down house site. We lived in that while the carpenters and neighbors built onto the shack, which we made into four rooms. One of the neighbors plastered it with our help mixing the plaster. For his pay he took a milk cow. Mother died in 1944 and Dad in 1949. Merle (Mrs. Vint Parkins) lives in San Jose, California. Pearl (Mrs. Karl Lurz, Jr.) lives on a ranch near Owanka; Milo lives at Maurine, S.D.; Dale at Broadus, Montana; Lynn in Wall; Loy (Mrs. Stan Burnett) in Rapid City. I live on a ranch near Philip. Paulsen Families by Vernie Paulsen Among the pioneers of Pennington County was Fred B. Paulsen, who heard of the United States Government opening the homesteading right in the state of South Dakota. Living at the time in Wisconsin, he left his family there while he took the train to what was then an unknown destination. Conversing with other men on the train who were also seeking a new home in a new land, he came to Wall and filed on a quarter section of land thirteen and one half miles northwest of Wall. He returned to Wisconsin for his family, consisting of his wife, Theresa, two sons, Irving and Devane, one daughter Fern, and his mother nearly seventy- two years old. He and his oldest son Irving rode in the emigrant car which carried two cows, two dozen chickens, and necessary household furniture and machinery. They arrived on April 8, 1908. His wife, son Devane, daughter Fern and mother, Mrs. Mathilda Paulsen arrived about two weeks later. His mother died December 8, 1908 and was the second grave in the Wall Cemetery. While he was breaking up land and sowing grain, and building their house they lived in a shack twelve by fourteen owned by Bob Zell, who had proved up on his claim and returned to his former home. Fred Paulsen bought one hundred twenty acres adjoining his homestead and continued to operate this land until 1921, when his youngest son, Devane was married to Vernie Foster and they rented the place and continued to farm and ranch with the addition of more acreage in the later years, and with the help of his son Delbert Paulsen. He lived there until his passing in 1962. Now his son Delbert, wife Jacqueline and their two sons Paul, fifteen and Bruce, thirteen, continue to live on this place. In 1919 Irving Paulsen bought a relinquishment on a quarter of land near his father's place and built a small house on it. In 1920 he was married to Inez Lee. Later they bought more land enlarged their house and had four boys, Warren, Raynold, Alfred and Gladwin. In 1963 they rented the ranch to their oldest boy, Warren and moved to Wall. [Photo - Mathilda Paulsen] I. R. Paulsen told to Bob Marsden When we were living on the Cheyenne River we were bothered with horned owls getting our chickens. One evening I shot one, and when I went to pick it up it wasn't quite dead. It grabbed me in the hand and I had to let go. Believe me, I was aggravated at that bird. The following morning when I got up there was one of those BIRDS perched on a post just outside the door. His tail was toward me, and I picked up a club and clobbered that bird, but it didn't fall. I hit it again before I realized that it was nailed to the post and was long dead. Bob Foster, my neighbor had nailed it to the post during the night and was watching while I massacred an already dead bird. [Photo - Fred and Theresa Paulsen and children, Irving, Devane and Fern] [Photo - Devane and Vernie Paulsen, Delbert and Jacquelin and boys, Paul and Bruce.] [Photo - Fern Paulsen Eames and daughter LaVawn] [Photo - Cal and Louise Heutzenroeder, Fred and Irving Paulsen with coyote pups they dug out of a den in the pasture.] [Photo - Irving, Inez, Warren, Reynold, Alfred and Gladwin Paulsen - 1941] Mr. and Mrs. Loda Sawvell We were married June 27, 1906 in McGregor, Iowa, and moved to Iroquois, So. Dakota and lived on a farm. That fall, Loda and his three brothers, Johnny, Fred and Tony came by train to Pierre and by stage to Grindstone and then walked to the home of their cousin, Isabelle Clark six miles north of Wall. The next morning they walked to the place where they picked out their land 12 miles north 1/2 mile west of Wall. They each took an adjoining quarter, then walked to town and filed their claims and returned to Iroquois. Our daughter Pearl was born May 4, 1907. During the summer the railroad was built from Pierre to Rapid City. Then in the fall we came by emigrant car with all our belongings which included $300.00, a team of horses, four cows, twenty-five hens, and some machinery which was shared by the four brothers. We purchased some lumber in Wall and loaded it and our chickens in our wagon, and loaded the rest of the belongings in the brothers wagons and drove to our claims. We all slept on the ground under the wagons the first night. The next day we started building our one room house which was 14 x 16. We made a sod chicken coop and a log barn which we made from Cottonwood trees. We hauled flax straw eight miles for the roof of the barn. This was a wild country, the wild cattle roamed the plains, plus plenty of wolves and coyotes. The only fences were those built to protect the homesteaders crops. These were hard times in the pioneering west and Loda would have been glad to work for 50 cents a day if any jobs had been available. In the fall of 1908 Loda and Johnny bought the first threshing machine in the community, a steam engine was used for power. They threshed for themselves and their neighbors as far south as Cedar Butte. This brought in a little money for the long winter ahead. On November 5, 1908, another daughter Sylvia was born. An aunt of Ed Dartt's acted as midwife. When Sylvia was two years old, and Pearl was four they had scarlet fever, and we didn't expect Sylvia to live. We had a good spring on our place one half mile north of our house. We had to haul the water in a wooden barrell on a stoneboat, pulled by horses. In 1911 when it was so dry, eleven families hauled water and also watered their cattle from this spring. They each had a certain hour of the day to come so there would be enough water for all. In the days of Haley's Comet in 1911 we planted our grain in February and it didn't rain until September, so the crop didn't come up till then. With no crop and no feed we were destitute so we loaded our belongings in an emigrant car and moved to McGregor, Iowa where we farmed for three years. While we were there our son Floyd was born on July 26, 1912. Then we moved to Taopi, Minnesota and farmed for four years. It was here that our daughters started school. In the spring of 1918 we again loaded our belongings in an emigrant car and returned to Wall to live again on our claim. Now the country was more settled and we had lots of neighbors. These were the World War I years, and the ladies would congregate in the homes and sew for the Red Cross. This would bring many friendly get togethers. In spite of our small homes, we had lots of house dances and parties. On one occasion there were 99 people attending one of these parties. One time at Tom Parkin's when we had an oyster supper, they put a pearl in Fritz Woltzen's plate to make him believe he really had found a pearl.While Mrs. Ben Rotter was doing that, I put a little piece of brown paper in her soup. She got it in her mouth and kept chewing and chewing and she said Fritz isn't the only one that has something in his soup and what would you call this. We had such wonderful gatherings and so much fun. Someone would always furnish music and how we danced and danced. On January 19, one year, there were sixteen at our house, it was so nice outdoors the men turned the wagon box upside down and played cards on it in their shirt sleeves. In 1920 Loda bought a well rig and drilled wells for the neighbors all over the community. In 1921 we moved to Wall and lived there until the spring of 1923 when we moved to the Al Nystrom place one mile north and 1/2 mile west of town. While we lived there, Sylvia was married to Clifford Jeppesen on November 16, 1926. In the spring of 1927, we again moved back to our homestead. On June 27, 1927 Pearl was married to George Thompson, on our wedding anniversary. They lived one mile north of us and George and Loda farmed together for twelve years when they moved to Lenox, Iowa. In 1929 Loda and Floyd built a well rig, and continued drilling wells. Over the years, Loda drilled 198 wells. As the years passed, we accumulated more and more land until we had 1920 acres. We farmed 527 acres and it developed into farming and ranching, In 1932 we bought a new thresh machine and continued community threshing until Loda retired. On September 10, 1934, Floyd was married to Mildred Hildebrandt and they lived near by so Floyd and Loda farmed together for several years. 1935 and 1936 were the bad grasshopper years, they ate all the crops and we mowed and stacked thistles (tumble weeds) for the cattle to eat. In 1944 we retired and moved to Lenox, Iowa. We leased the place to our daughter Sylvia and her husband until it was sold. In 1952 Loda passed away and was buried at Lenox, Iowa. Pearl's husband George was killed in a car accident in 1958. Pearl lives at Lenox, Iowa. Her oldest son Vernal, his wife Joan, their children Richard, Cheryl and Gary also live in Lenox. Another son Dennis, his wife Clevune, their children Steven and Terry live in St. Joseph, Mo. Her youngest son Roger, his wife Lilly, their daughter Vicki live in Bettendorf, Iowa. Her daughter Loretta lives in Davenport, Iowa. Sylvia and Clifford live in Wall, So. Dak. Their daughter Veva, her husband Harold Puckett and their children Kathy and John live in Rapid City. Their son Bud, his wife Juanita, their children Ray and Deana live near Cottonwood, So. Dakota. Floyd and Mildred live on a farm north of Wall. Their daughter Cleone, her husband James McKay, their children Joyce and Shaun, live north of Wall. Their son Don, his wife Marcia, their children Lana and Jody live near Quinn, So. Dak. I, Katie, still live in Lenox, Iowa. {photo - Loda and Katie Sawvell - Wedding Picture] FRIENDS I'd like to be the sort of friend that you've all been to me, I'd like lo be the help that you've been always glad to be, I'd like to mean as much to you each minute of the day, As you have meant, good friends to me all along the way. And that's why I am wishing now that 1 could but repay A portion of the gladness that you've strewn along the way. And could I have but just one wish this only would it be, I'd like to be the sort of friend that you've all been to me. --Anonymous [Photo - Steam engine powered threshing machine. Loda, Johnny, and Freddie Sawvell, Cliff and John Foster, Bill Goade, the rest are neighbors.] [Photo - The log barn that we built of cottonwood logs, which we used until 1932 when we built a new large barn.] [Photo - The well-rig that Loda and son Floyd built.] [Photo - Field of corn eaten by the grasshoppers in 1935.] [Photo - The center portion of this house was our 14 x 16 ft. claim shack.] [Photo - The modern 7 room ranch house built around the original claim shack, two rooms in 1918. The rest in 1931. The claim shack is the dining room.] [Photo - Jess Benson and Claud Kitterman] [Photo Cedar Butte Ball Team: Some of the players are Ed Dartt, John Moler, Mike O'Donnell, Jess Benson and Leonard Brosius.] [Photo Tony Madison, Locater-1906 Bill Lawrence, Dan Hinman, Mel Lawrence, Rufe Campbell and Tony Madison's brother] [Photo - Otto Alfs, Mike O'Donnel, Frank Anderson, Micky Linch, Hugo Alfs.] The Cliff and John Foster Families by Murph Cliff and Anna, John and Katie Foster were all born in Perry County, Indiana. When Cliff, the eldest, was six years old their father, James Foster, died from typhoid fever, leaving Margaret with three small children, Cliff, John and Carolyn, (Mrs. Walter Collins). Two years later Margaret married Asa Kellem and they soon moved west to settle at Ash Creek, Minnesota. Cliff went to Indiana in the spring of 1900 to visit his uncle George Albin. While he was there he met Anna Volz and a year later she traveled to Minnesota to marry him. In November 1904 Anna's sister, Katie, came to visit her and met Cliff Is brother, John. After meeting him she had no desire to go back to Indiana and on January first 1906 they were married. Both families lived on rented farms near Howard until April. They heard glowing tales of the western land that could be had by filing a claim and establishing a home on it. Cliff, John, Asa Kellem and Steve Albin went from Winfred to Sioux City to Chadron to Rapid City by train. They hired a man with a team and buggy to bring them to Wasta. They were caught in a late spring blizzard and spent three days in Wasta waiting for it to clear. Steve Albin decided he didn't care for such a country and returned to Rapid City, leaving the others to go on alone. They walked to the Cheyenne river and a man took them across on horseback and they walked on to the Frank Jewitt place. Coy Furnas was to meet them but was ill so sent his father to help Kellem and the two Fosters locate their claims. But he made a mistake and put them on the wrong quarters of land. Cliff and John later filed farther west but Asa Kellem kept the first quarter, located five miles north of Wall. After filing they returned to Howard to get their families and belongings. On May 22, 1906, Cliff, Anna and their small daughter, Vernie and John and Katie arrived on the flat northeast of the present townsite. There were three covered wagons, one buggy, seven horses and a part of their household goods. They stopped to eat dinner near what today is the Walt Witscher place. Unharnessing two horses the two men rode northwest to make certain which were their claims. Crossing the prairie, that today is owned by Frank Anderson, they saw a man walking toward them. Much to their astonishment, as they drew near, they saw he was their brother-in-law, Walter Collins. He had been working in Rapid City and his wife, Carolyn, had written telling him the Fosters had started west. So he had decided to walk down and try to find them. Little did he realize the danger he had been in as he went across the open prairie, afoot, among the wild cattle that grazed on every side. Only a week or so before a traveler had been killed by some of the untamed beasts. John hauled lumber from Rapid City by team and wagon to build his 12x16, one room claim shanty on Lake Flat. It took him four days to get home with his lumber as he got stuck many times and had to unload, pull out the wagon, carry the lumber and re-load. Cliff made a dugout in the hillside with a pole roof covered with sod and dirt. There was a window, with four small panes of glass, in each end of the dugout. The steps were dug in the dirt runway to go down into the cave. There were dirt sidewalls and floor. They made a pole barn, two rows of poles with hay stuffed between. They put up some hay and tried to get ready for winter. In the fall Cliff went back to Winfred to get the rest of their furniture and livestock. The Asa Kellem, Will Kitterman and Steve Albin families came west at that time. Together they shipped an emigrant car to Murdo-the end of the railroad at that time. They must have made quite a sight for there were: eleven covered wagons, thirty-four people, thirty-five head of cattle and seventeen dogs plodding slowly westward across the country. The young boys in the party were assigned the task of driving the cattle along on foot. John says, "By the time they reached Lake Flat every critter was broke to ride". It was late October before they reached Wall and a hard freeze ruined all the potatoes and other garden stuff they were bringing in their wagons to their new homes. Katie says, "It was rough going that first winter but if I were young I'd try it again". About 1910 Cliff built a three room house on his claim and to celebrate they had a dance. Neighbors and cowboys came from miles around to dance all night to the music of a harmonica --- played by Walter Collins. In 1913 John and Kate moved from the flat to their present location and built the four room house where they still reside. In 1916 Cliff built on two more rooms and it was then that Anna and Kate's father, Mike VoIz, came from Indiana to live with them. "Old Grandad" passed away in 1950 at the age of ninety-five. The hardship of no water plagued both families. Any number of wells were dug but none produced any water. Anna told of dipping water from the holes along the creek and hauling it in barrels. They strained it through a cloth to take out the tadpoles and wiggle-tails, (misquito larva). Then boiling it for the family to drink. In later years they dug cisterns and hauled water from Wasta and Wall for house use. Cliff use to raise the biggest and best watermelons in the county, as any oldtimer can vouch for. Many summer, Sunday afternoons were spent at Fosters eating watermelon. Cedar Canyon school was established a mile southwest of the Foster homes; there the Collins, Albin, Sheren and Foster children walked to school. They crossed the creek using a huge fallen log as afoot bridge. There was no road around to the school until in the 30's when a grade and a bridge were put in. Until that time you took a trail far to the southeast to be able to cross the creek that ran into Cedar Canyon. Some other children that attended school here were: Battermans, Van Campens, McDonalds and Wilkinsons. Some early day teachers were Hazel Carstensen, Myrtle Haynes, Mabel Sparlings, Mrs. McDonald, Frieda Overton, Bill Winters, Clarence Mills and many others. Both families attended Sunday school, Literary meetings and baseball games at Cedar Butte schoolhouse along with all the other families in the community. There were two boys and two girls born to each Foster couple. In 1931, Naomi Kirby, John's eldest daughter was killed in a truck accident in the hills as the family returned from spending Christmas in Wyoming. James married Mary Freeman and has three step-daughters, Rosemary, Betty and Patty. They have ten grandchildren. Mae married Tude Kennedy and they had a daughter Verda. She, her husband and seven children live in Rome, Italy. After Tude's death Mae married Jack Yeoman of the Air Force and they reside in Colorado Springs, Colorado. Bernard, his wife, Marjie, son, Kevin and step-daughter, Janice have a home near his parents. John and Katie enjoy fair health though they have slowed down considerably in the last few years. He does his own farm work and cares for his stock. She has a garden and chickens and does her own housework. On January first 1966 they will observe their 60th year of married life. Cliff and Anna moved from their homestead to Wall in 1946. Here they resided until he passed away in 1958 and she in 1962. Their eldest daughter, Vernie, married Devane Paulsen, she lives in Wall. Her only child, Delbert, married Jacquline Smoot they have two boys, Paul and Bruce and reside on the old Paulsen homestead. Leo married Doris (Murph) Way they live in Wall and have six children, Dixie (Mrs. Kenny) Parker of Pierre, Marsha (Mrs. Dean) Vaughn and Barbara (Mrs. Chas.) Rech both of Rapid City. Dennis and his wife Judy (Printz) and Arlen and wife Doris (Shoemaker) and Lynda all live at Wall. They have eight grandsons and one grand daughter. Irma married Bennie LaRoche and they live in Rapid City. Their only child, Evonne married Gail Welsh and they live in St. Paul, Minnesota. Delos married Deloris Crown and they live in Wall and have three children, Allen Dean, Karen and Jerry. John and Kate tell of a bad snowstorm they endured the middle of March 1907. It was a beautiful warm sunny spring morning when several men got together to cut posts and wood in the breaks about a mile northwest of Cliff's place. A low grey bank of clouds hung in the west but they thought little of it as they went about their work. About 11 o'clock the sky grew dark and the sun went away. As John "snaked" a pile of posts to the top of the ridge he saw the storm moving in. He yelled for the rest of the men to come up so they could hurry home, but they were, not quick enough. The blinding smothery snow overtook them, whipped along by a raging wind. Some of the men made it to Steve Albin's dugout. Those in John's wagon got to Cliff's for the horses knew the way home. Kate had come to visit Anna and Grandma Kellem came as far as the Collins home leaving the Kellem children alone. It would have meant tragedy had they attempted to go home so twelve people spent the rest of the day and night in Cliff Is small cave. The next day dawned cold but clear and Kellem, George Kitterman, Collins and others set out for home to check on their families. When they got to Will Kitterman's dugout the runway was completely covered with snow. As they came near they could see a broomstick poking up through the snow. One of the men grabbed the stick and from below they heard Minnie's excited voice saying, "Somebody is up there! Somebody is up there!" There was no loss of life though some cattle did drift with the storm. When the cowboys rounded up they brought back most of the strays. The Foster brothers kept a large pack of greyhounds. They caught many coyotes, that were very numerous in early days. They also dug out the dens and took the young pups for bounty. One spring they dug out 10 of these young coyotes. So go the years, from horse and buggy to shiny new cars, pickups and trucks. From binders and shocking to one operation combines. From tar paper claim shanties to fine modern homes. But who will deny the "good old days" for they were the beginning of what we have today. [Photo "Darn Cockleburs" Cliff Foster hauling water.] [Photo Irma and Leo Foster] [Photo Mail from Indiana. Asa and Margaret Kellem, Cliff Foster, Jim and Kate Foster.] [Photo - Shocking barley: Anna Foster, Lelah Collins Babcock, Kate, Jim and Cliff Foster.] [Photo - Mr. And Mrs. John Foster Naomi and James.] [Photo - Cedar Canyon School - 1924 Back: Frieda Batterman, Irma and Mae Foster. Front: Delos and Jim Foster, a Van Campin boy, Otto Batterman and two Van Campin boys.] [Photo - Mabel Sparlings] [Photo - George Kitterman, Cliff Foster, Osborn Kitterman] [Photo - Coyotes caught in one month in 1920 Devane Paulsen, Cliff and John Foster.] [Photo - Michael Volz, 95th birthday] [Photo - The Foster Family Vernie, Delos, Anna, Cliff, Leo and Irma] [Photo - The Devane Paulsen Family] [Photo - Jack Yoeman, John, Katie, Jim and Mary Foster. Front row: Bernard and Mae and her three grandchildren, Mark, Mike and Patty.] The James Renner Family by Murph There were only a few railroad stakes where the town of Wall now stands when James Renner and a party of 30 came to South Dakota. There was an excursion every two weeks from Sioux City to Rapid City for people who were interested in filing claims in this homesteading country. What they heard sounded too good to be true, but they were unprepared for the vastness of this territory. From Rapid City, they hired a light wagon and a team of horses to drive them out to Dakota City, and then to the flat by Wall. Coy Furnas helped them get located and they returned to Sioux City. In 1906, they came back to prove up on their claims.- Each man had a quarter section and they were all friends for a radius of six miles. The locater had given them two or three choices but they wanted to settle as close together as possible. Mr. Renner's sister, Clara, had a shack 12 x 16 feet which they used as headquarters. She had a four hole laundry stove with an oven in the pipe where she baked biscuits, pie, bread and whatever was necessary. Renner says, "My shanty was 8x 10, of rough boards covered with tar paper, lined with blue building paper to make it a little warmer. We built a barn of sod large enough for two teams of horses. The roof was of cedar poles covered with hay. That fall we dug wells and put up a little hay which ran out before spring. The horses and mules almost died but luckily we were able to buy some shelled corn and they lasted until spring and green grass." Mr. Renner remembers 1907 as one of the best years as the ground didn't dry out on top until September. "But of course we had mosquitoes a foot deep," he smiled. "Wheat grass so high it looked like a field of grain waving in the wind. It made wonderful hay, but we didn't have much to work with to put it up." Until this time, his party hadn't intended to stay indefinitely, but that year was so encouraging that it gave them all a real lift. They organized their township in a homestead shanty in 1907, and Mr. Renner served as aboard member for many years. He was also a member of the school board and recalls that teachers were then paid between $25 and $40 a month. After batching for 3 years he married Ada Kellem in 1909 and they set about making a comfortable home for their family. They set out a large orchard of over 50 fruit trees. From these trees Mrs. Renner canned hundreds of quarts of cherries, plums and apples. They had a beautiful yard with many kinds of flowers and shrubs in bloom every summer. Ada had a "green thumb" for sure. Her house was like a small green house. At one time she had over 500 African violet plants. She raised birds, canaries and parakeets, for sale and had quite a thriving business. She always raised a large garden that she shared with family and friends. The dry years in the 30 Is killed the fruit trees and ill health curtailed Mrs. Renner's ability to work in her yard. So the later years were spent tending her many house plants and birds. Mr. Renner recalls, "We had our ups and downs just like all of them did, but there were a lot of good things about this community made up of people from different states. For one thing there were a lot of talented folks --- good singers, musicians and ball players. When they had the annual celebration in Wall the band always played. I played the baritone horn most of the time. The celebrations used to draw three or four thousand people. They came early in the morning with picnic lunches and stayed until long after dark. Sometimes an outfit came through with a road show. The 'M & M' troop was always a great favorite, too." During the blizzard of 1949, Renner was taking care of his son's stock while they were on a trip. t 'When the storm was over we dug sheep out of snow banks for two days, but only lost 20 out of 140 head. I used to think I could forecast the weather a little bit until that year, but that cured me." Mr. and Mrs. Renner observed their 50th wedding anniversary in 1959. James passed away in 19 and Ada went to Carterville, Illinois, to make her home with Earl and his wife Polly and their two daughters. Here she lived until her passing in 1963. Their son Leslie and wife Eva (Pierce) and son Rodney live on the old Brosious place north of town. The Renners were preceeded in death by 2 sons, Kenneth and Howard and one daughter, Vivian. The Jones Family In the year of 1910 A. L. Jones came to Wasta and bought the old Ackerman ranch down the river from Wasta from Corbin Morse. He and his family moved from Scotland, South Dakota, to this ranch in the spring of 1911 and during that year he bought the relinquishment on the Doc Wellon homestead and moved up on that place the next spring. Irving Paulsen had the Doc Wellon place now. Later A. L. Jones sold out to Charlie Hunt and moved back to Scotland. [Photo - The Jones Family and their homestead.] [Photo - Arlie Jones, Helen Smith, Orvie Paulson and Elmer Jones.] [Photo - Mr. And Mrs. Charlie Cullers, Mr. And Mrs. Fred Paulson, Mr. And Mrs. A. L. Jones, Cliff and Howard Jones at the Ackerman ranch.] John Carstenson Family In 1907 John Carstenson Sr. came to Wall and found land to purchase from Underwoods and Kalkbrenners. His son John lived and farmed for two years, on the newly purchased land. He became discouraged and left. The spring of 1909 the Carstensen family came out by train to make their home from Fremont, Nebraska. This move was made by an emigrant car which the railroad then had for people migrating to new areas. This was for livestock and household goods. Father and son Elmer tended to the stock in route. Mother and daughter Freda and two younger boys, Emil and Harry. This was 10 miles n.w. of Wall. They got off at Bull Creek siding. The house was a log cabin consisting of two large rooms and a leanto. The walls inside were covered with blue building paper. Until about 1914 there was open range. Free range meant fields had to be protected by farmers against roving cattle. Later a Herd law was inacted and ranging cattle had to have a rider to keep stock from the farm lands or fence them in. One could shoot prairie dogs all the way to Wall in those days. Buffalo heads and horns could be found anywhere on the prairies. Grass was tall and during the winter horses pawed their food thru the snow. Cattle followed the horses to get grass, when the horses moved on. Grass was tall but snow was also deep. School was south of the John Reed ranch; young Harry attended school taught by sister Freda. Some of the old timers will remember Will-o-the whisp. This seemed to be a phospherous like glow that caused wanderers to believe a house was near and lose their ways following this eerie light. For it would disappear. Sometimes it was near the ground and again up somewhat. Some easterners were spooked by this glow, It has not been seen for many years. But there are many in the Wall area that recall this jack-o-lantern as some called it. Neighbors helped one another. Charlie McDonald needed a house moved. They used 4 wagons and 16 horses to move the former McDonald house to the bottom where it has remained many years. It still sits on the land later known as the Plasshart place, in the Bull Crick bottom. John and Cliff Foster, John Moler, George Kitterman, Emil Carstensen and his brother and others helped in this undertaking. Years passed and the boys grew up. Emil married a school teacher that boarded with his folks and taught in Cedar Canyon school. She was Hazel Johnston. Elmer enlisted in the army and Harry drifted from home, riding for cattle outfits. In the spring of 1918 Emil and Hazel had a girl named Arlene. When the flu swept thru the area that fall and winter only Emil and Arlene survived. Grandpa Johnston came to help during the epidemic. Neighbors pitched in doing chores. And bringing food to the door. John and Alvina Carstensen returned to the farm for the winter and in the spring the farm was sold. The grandparents took the baby to raise. Time passed and Emil married Elsie Huetzenroeder and they set up housekeeping south of Wall, near the Badlands Wall. A son Donald was born to the happy couple. Entertainment in those days was simple; Sunday dinners, barn dances before hay was put up for the winter feed. Country folks drove many miles by buggy and Model T's to the barn dances. Babies were put to sleep in the houses, on beds, floors, anywhere a blanket could be layed out for the small ones. Dancing went on often until dawn and the dancers drove or rode home in the daylight. There were no conveniences in those days. Hours were long and work often hard. But the people and the community thrived. More people came, but these early settlers were the backbone of the era. Their work and interest in the country has made eastern Pennington County what it is today. [Photo Emil Carstensen in Wall - 1917] [Photo - Early schoolhouse, Freda Carstensen Overton, teacher.] [Phoro John Carstensen - 1911] [Photo - The John Moler family: Loyal, Carrie, Lila, Billy, Alvin, Elva, Minnie and John] [Photo - Mr. And Mrs. John Moler, Carrie, Tiny and Elva] [Photo - Emil Carstensen and Joe Bruce - 1920] [Photo - Emil and daughter, Arlene (Garrison) 1918.] [Photo - Looking east from edge of Cheyenne breaks to John Carstensens. Total cost of building was $1,100; carpenter charged $1.-a day and room and board, 1911.] [Photo - John and Alva Carstensen] [Photo - Emil Carstensen and Homer Albin] [Photo - Last Roundup on Lake Flat: Included are George Gunn, Joe Knapp, and Joe Brown] [Photo - Joe Knapp] [Photo - Breaking of ice in the Cheyenne River - 1916] [Photo - Early day threshing scene] [Photo Early day rodeo celebration] James M. Alburn by Mary Aggergaard and James Allburn James M. Allburn better known as Si was born at Sioux City, Iowa, on December 9,1880. He grew to manhood in Sioux City, working in a grocery store and a meat market. In 1906 he came to South Dakota to homestead on Crooked Creek about half way between the Badlands and the Cheyenne River. He hauled lumber for his claim shack from Rapid City, fording the river at Dakota City, the nearest town at that time. In 1909 he returned to Sioux City to marry Ada Mae Simpson on December 26 of that year. They lived in Sioux City until February 1911 when the moved to the homestead in South Dakota. Their eldest child Mary Elizabeth was born September 27, 1912 and a son James Jr. born April 6, 1916. As the years passed "Si" was clerk of the Star School District, Treasurer of the Crooked Creek Township, and a member of the Odd Fellows Lodge. In 1937 they moved one mile north of the homestead where they lived until Mae's death on March 10, 1957. Si then moved to live with his son James Jr. until 1962 when he went to visit his daughter Mary and attend the Worlds Fair in Seattle Washington. While in Washington he suffered a heart attack and died on September 24, 1962. The homestead is now part of the Raching J. A. ranch owned and operated by James Jr. and Gurendalyn Allburn. Mrs. Emma (Chamberlain) Bruce as told to Bob Marsden Emma Chamberlain was born in 1876 in Pickwick, Minnesota. Emma's mother had asthma and was confined to her bed. This was their reason for moving to S. D. After they reached South Dakota she regained her health enough so that she could easily take great walks. Emma's father homesteaded between Lennox and Parker, South Dakota in 1878. Emma grew up in that neighborhood, returning to Minnesota to go to High School at Brownsvalley, where a sister lived. There she met Olney (nicknamed Ollie) Marshall. Ollie Marshall was born the eighth child in a family of sixteen children in October, 1867 at Plainview, Minnesota. He grew to manhood there and went from there to Brownsvalley. Ollie and Emma were married at Armour, South Dakota in 18 97 where Emma's parents had moved. They lived at Armour for a while and it was there that their daughter, Inez was born. Mr. and Mrs. Marshall then moved to Platte and lived there for several years. Ted and Perry were born there. They moved with their children to Wall in 1907 and homesteaded a mile south and a half mile west of town. Lawrence Dale and Paul were born here. Lawrence died as a baby and was one of the first persons buried in the Wall Cemetery. The Marshalls moved into Wall and lived where Lee Albin now lives, and then to the place where Harvey Stone lives. Mr. Marshall ran the livery stable in Wall and his barn was located where Cliff's Carter is. Ollie was probably one of the first Deputy Sheriffs in this end of Pennington County, and he held this position until his death on August 27, 1934. After Mr. Marshall's death Emma worked for Mrs. H. E. (Hulda) Miller in the store and was dean of the school dormitory for one or two terms. She was married to Frank Bruce in 1936 and moved to her present home south west of Wall. Since Frank's death Mrs. Bruce's son Ted has managed the ranch and they have made their home together. Mrs. Bruce was always active in the church, and she recalls that before there was any church, Sunday School was held in the Bill Mackrill barn which he had just built and had not used. Mrs. Shade was the Sunday School Superintendent at that time. George Shuck, a staunch Methodist, talked a group into building a Methodist Church and it was built about where Bill Clark lives. That building was later sold and it is the present Catholic Church. Mrs. Bruce joined the Eastern Star when it was organized in Wall, and was its Worthy Matron at one time. Ted and Paul are her only remaining children Paul in Buffalo, New York, and Ted active on the home ranch. I remember one time we had along rainy spell and our roof leaked. We decided to bring in the buggy umbrella and set it up in the house. During the time it was raining we put the children under the umbrella and at night when it was time to go to bed we had fixed an oilcloth over the bed to keep it dry. The rain would run off the oil cloth like mad, but, after undressing the kids under the umbrella and rushing them into bed, they had a nice dry bed to sleep in! [Photo - Mae Allburn - 1910] [Photo - Si Allburn - 1910] [Photo - Si Allburn, Mrs. Grace Schaaf (his sister) and her baby in front of Si's homestead shack.] [Photo - Emma Bruce] Homestead Days by Gladys Shull Romans My parents, Mr. and Mrs. Edward O. Shull, came to Pennington County from Charles Mix County in the spring of 1907. My father came here to file on land along with some of our neighbors in Charles Mix County. Richard Frank Bruce (known as Frank Bruce) and family lived near us. They had filed on land in fall of 1906. De Noma's were neighbors from Charles Mix County also. Many proved up on their homesteads and left, as so many did, as soon as possible. Mother, Clyde, Roy and I (Gladys Shull Romans) came by train to Kadoka. It rained steadily for three weeks and we were marooned there until Father could come for us. He came in a spring wagon or mountain buggy through Badland mud and gumbo. There were only trails for roads. We had been exposed to measles at Kadoka and of course, in due time, all three of us had measles! Roy was sick and had complications, which resulted in abscess on his neck. He was taken to Dr. Shappell to have the abscess lanced. Dr. Shappell had an office on the west side of Main Street. Mrs. Meyers, Albert, Anna, and Lily were our nearest neighbors, also Bruce's were only a little over half a mile away. In the fall of 1907 our grandparents, the Lewis Shulls, came from Lincoln County to make anew home here. They lived on the east side of the road about half a mile from us. Later George and Lily Drey came and filed on land. The homesteads were all southeast of the Bruce place; where Mrs. Bruce and her son Ted Marshall live now. About 1910, we left our homestead and moved east of where James Allburn lives now. I recall so many of the early homesteaders south of Wall. There were four homestead shacks in the corners of the quarters. Mr. Charles Barrett, Charles Knutson (who was later our teacher in District 45), and Charles Heidinger (who died just recently at Rapid City). I do not recall the name of the other lady. There were two Beilfeldts and Felix and Johnny Fields, Glassers, Wolfs, and Stephans. It seems as though each had filed on 160 acres of land. That was not sufficient land to make a living, unless more land was available. We had quite a celebration when the town of Wall was plotted and streets named for the Hendrickson children, Norris, Nora, Floyd, and Glen. Clyde and I went to Wall to school, but we were not in that district, so we missed nearly all of the three winter months. Each year there was a local celebration of July 10th. I recall the one and only balloon ascension I have actually seen. It must have been about 1909 or 1910. We had quite a bad time getting good water on our homestead as did our grandparents and many others. George and Fred Snyder dug several wells before we finally got any good water. Meyers had such good spring water, as did the Bruces. My folks finally sold to a Mr. Kraal and we moved over near Villbrandts. In 1911 the seed planted did not even come up. The folks were preparing to leave and move to Minnesota; but in August my father had typhoid fever and was terribly sick. Winter was at hand before he was up so they had to stay here. Thanks to the good neighbors, friends and relatives they made it through that winter. In 1915 we went to a place owned by Isaac Chase and lived there until we finally bought the Kinzler place in 1916. In 1908 a new brother was born. My sister, Marcella Pipal, was born in 1916. We had finally gotten to where we could take care of more stock. Our grandfather became sick and had to leave the homestead. They moved the house to Wall and resided there. Mrs. Smoot owns their homestead house now. It has been moved and remodeled some since 1916. Herman and Louise Shone (Jensen) had remodeled and added to our homestead house. It was later remodeled and used for the Lutheran parsonage. An early event I remember, was when Mr. and Mrs. Brosius came for Sunday dinner and later took our pictures! Mrs. Stella Benson gave me the picture which was taken from her father's album. There were pictures of nearly all the children in the area east of the river in the album. Mrs. Benson was a daughter of Mr. and Mrs. Brosius. I was married in 1918 and my husband, Charles Romans, had homesteaded on 80 acres near my folks place. We later traded to Clayte Babcocks. In 1919 Clyde enlisted in the Army and went to Panama. He was there for three years. Our grandfather passed away in 1920. Grandmother was not very well, but continued to keep her home in Wall. In November, 1923, my father passed away after a brief illness. Our grandmother lived until July, 1925. My son started to school in the fall of 1925 and went to the same school I had gone to when I was young. He graduated from Wall High School in 1936. My brothers have continued to live here until Clyde moved to California in the 1940's and still lives there. Roy has lived nearly all of his life in the Crooked Creek township and still has his ranches there. Reggie lives in Rapid City now. He works for the State Highway Commission. My husband and I moved to Nevada in 1937 and he worked in the copper mine until 1944 when we moved to Idaho. We both worked 18 months at Simplots Dehydrating Plant until 1946. We came back to Wall in 1949 and lived here on my folks place owned now by Roy and Dean Shull. My husband died suddenly January 19, 1958 and I continue to live here although my son lives in Idaho. My mother passed away in November 1935. My sister married in 1933 and lives on the adjoining quarter of Frank Pipalls land, who had a sod house on his homestead. Later they built on the purchased quarter of land adjoining original homestead. Ernest and Marcella have lived there all their married life. Mrs. Frank Pipal lives in Rapid City. There are so many old settlers gone now. I am keeping house at Roy Shull's ranch now. As time passes so quickly now, I recall so many things of our earlier life. [Photo - Ed Shull's House later purchased by Herman and Louise Schone. George and Lillie Drey by Mrs. Ernest Schleuning George and Lillie Drey came to Wall in 1908 and filed on 160 acres of land three and one-half miles south of Wall on the Pinnacle road. Their daughter, Olive, came with them and taught school north of town across the road from the J. A. Galbraith home where she roomed and boarded. In May, 1909, Olive married Frank Miller, son of Wm. and Hulday Miller. To this union four children were born: Lucille, Claire, Gerald and Clarence, who passed away at the age of 2 1/2 years during the intestinal flu epidemic. Mr. Drey worked with the carpenters in Wall and walked the 3 1/2 miles to work and back home each day. Some of the other people who came to Wall about the same time as the Dreys included: Mr. and Mrs. Lewis Shull who came in 1907 and filed south of Wall. They were the parents of Lillie Drey. Frank Bruce came there sometime before 1908 and built a big dam where the people drove their cattle to water when it was dry and there was no place else to water them. Mr. and Mrs. Charles Wyant came before 1908 and ran a herd of cattle in the Badlands, south of Wall. They also filed claims in the Badlands, along with their two sons, Cline and Laurence. Mr. and Mrs. Myres filed just north and adjoining the Lewis Shull claim. Mr. Myers froze to death in a blizzard about 1907 on his way back to his home. He was buried on his claim. Among other people who arrived before 1908 were Fred Snider, Joe Knapp, Chas. Snell, Mr. Gorseth, Mr. and Mrs. Vilbrandt and Gordon Marsden. [Photo - Some of those pictured are Mr. And Mrs. George Drey, Mr. And Mrs. W. H. Miller, Ruth Street, Josh and Cora Street, Lewis, Ed, Roy, and Clyde Shull, Dora Welch, Opal Drey.] [Photo - Mr. And Mrs. Shull in the front seat. Others include Ed, Gladys, Aldean, Roy and Clyde Shull, Mr. And Mrs. Geo. Drey, Frank and Lucille Miller.] Fanny Van Campen by Marion W. Sharp An early day text used by all the earlier teachers was printed by the Educator Supply Co. of Pierre, listed Fanny Van Campen and of her work said in introducing the first example given from the scattered pen of Fanny VanCampen we select first a poem first printed in 1890, Pleasure and Pain. However the only exact quote I can give from her work is the following for the texts in which they appeared have not been used for many years: If evening comes, oh man, to find thee more Like to the Great Ideal than before, If thou art nobler when the day is spent Then thou hast lived--life is development. I have forgotten the name of the poem itself. I recall her as a teacher in the Wall area some time after 1914 and I know that their claim was very near the present town of Wall. She was often a speaker at the teacher's meetings and was very helpful and earnest about the practical aspects of the job. Ansel Mcdonald by Marion Sharp Ansel took a claim as soon as he was old enough to file on one sometime in 1906. He was just the same age as Harry Wiley and both had taken claims near their relatives at the head of Crooked Creek near the Pinnacles of the Badlands. By early 1907 the parents of both young men had met and found that they were of the same ages, both women having approximately the same ages and the men the same. Encouraged and pleased at these likenesses the women noted that the daughters of each couple were very like in health, size, and were also exactly the same age. The sisters of both young men attended the old South Star school as classmates and boon companions in 1911. Ansel and Harry were both married while each lived on their original homesteads about the year 1919 and oddly enough both wives were very like in that they were interested in art, handwork, crochet, etc., in addition to their homes and families. Both the Macdonald daughter and the Wiley daughter had left the neighborhood about 1914 to make their own way in the world. Both unmarried then. The parents of both men retired in the same year, 1920, the Macdonald couple going east and the Wiley couple merely to Rapid City. When Harry Wiley and his little family of wife and three children moved away from the Crooked Creek country Ansel Mcdonald and his same sized family moved also, and the two families lost contact with each other. In 1942 the two families met on the streets of Everett, Washington. Both were in the War Effort there. Both had bought homes in small towns outside that City. Mcdonald, Snohomish, Wash. and Wiley at Granite Falls. A difference began to show in the fact that Marie had passed away from natural causes many years before while Marion Wiley had married and was living with her husband and son south of Scenic, S. Dak. (Still in the Wall area). Ansel Mcdonald passed away suddenly about the time that Harry Wiley died of a heart attack in 1949. Leaving aside the unbelievable chances that any two particular families should meet from a large area in a small determined point, one begins to wonder what extra chances there were that made these two families, so alike in many ways, to meet and discover for themselves the oddity of the situation! Some were apparently a case of their experiences being same at the same time of life, such as each going mad about gardening and growing all things in line of fruit, flowers, etc. These I have not listed. The chance of dying at a certain age is a matter of health, inheritance, luck, so many factors. I give up! Delos Sisson (Dad or Pop) by Marion Sharp By 1908 the range of the big time cattlemen was no more but Dad Sisson continued to live in his comfortable dug out near the Cheyenne River Crossing across from the abandoned Post Office of Dakota City. He had lived through the days of the great Texas Trail herds. The cattle were driven across into Dakota Territory as early as 1871 to replace the Buffalo slaughtered in the last of the Buffalo hunts for the hides and the Indians had to have meat issued. I think the Centennial Prairie hunt and slaughter after the founding of that city in 18 7 6 was the last known of great size. His home was the stopping place for trail riders from all points. Surveyors that preceded the Honyockers, settlers, miners, claim locators, etc., brought him the news and companionship until the coming of the Homesteaders. He spent no time in bewailing the past but began to. greet the newly arrived neighbors. Somehow he always appeared at every dance, or celebration that could be called remotely a public affair and spent the evening surrounded by a group of men and young men and boys swapping news of the day or exchanging old stories. I never saw him dance tho not above watching some extra lively exhibition and would join in a rousing cowboy yell to express his approval. It he was not suited and thought it scarcely correct he became a severe critic and few cared to be the object of his not altogether polite remarks. Surely none of his adopted favorites in his own neighborhood. Delos Sisson was always extremely polite to the wives of the Homesteaders but limited himself to polite impersonal observations as a rule. Being a very competent person he never asked any neighbor to wash or repair his clothes yet was always clean and tidy. The men thought he was the world's best cook and he taught many a batch, newly arrived, to bake biscuit and cook a broiled steak, yet he was never known to invite a married couple to share a meal. His patience did not extend to women who tried to give their soddys or cramped claim shacks a dude look with plants, drapes or pictures. "Such folderolls," he scoffed, "If that woman was being rowed across the ocean in a leaky rowboat she'd be too busy trying to hang ruffled curtains to help him bail it out!" Yet if a home were roomy and well made the most ornate of the Victorian relics on the scene met his approval. In the years between 1912 and 1917 Summer Sunday afternoons usually found him and a group of neighbors around the Corrals and chutes on the Harry Wiley ranch on Crooked Creek where the jobs of handling cattle and horses were carried out for the neighbors. Cattlemen had given up using a bit of copper wire threaded through the skin of the brisket as a protection against Black-leg and started using Franklin's vaccine and the first dipping vat was there in case it was needed for insects and skin disorders of the time. When one heard an extra long Powder River Yell it meant that some of the home boys was making a good ride and interested women folk would rush out with their cameras to crowd around the corral for a good shot with their old time plate cameras. John and Ella Wiley were not surprised when Dad Sissons came to discuss a trip they were planning to Down East parts where their kinfolk and early day friends lived in the Bangor, Me. area. He had come to get them to promise to visit with him in the ancestral home at Niagara Falls New York and he thought he would put it off and never go if he had to go alone. They had to promise to visit with him a week or so with his sister and brother until he, "saw how the land lay". The Wileys enjoyed everything about the trip and were amazed to see that he began to sport an entire new wardrobe, very English or Canadian, they did not know which, ranging from the most formal for morning dress to the full dress for evening. He had decided to live there. After the return of the Wiley couple in the spring of 1918 they heard from Mr. Sisson at least twice but lost contact with all of the family after moving to Rapid City in the early 1920's. [Photo - Delos Sisson (dad or pop) in background over shoulder of John Ling branding a calf in the Harry Willy corral.] Mr. and Mrs. Orrin Lawrence by Marion Sharp The parents of Orrin Lawrence came from Canada and homesteaded in the neighborhood of Rapid City in earliest days in the Caputa Area. Frank Read who was born on the old Read place in that neighborhood about 1881 would know exactly and no doubt the Society of Black Hills Pioneers have such a record. In 1906 the house at the Orrin Lawrence sheep camp was a frame house with what was called clapboard outer walls that might have been painted at one time -- in short a very old house, therefore it is to be deduced that it was not the claim of Orrin for he never afterward laid claim to it. No doubt the father had taken squatter rights on that bit of land in very early days, hoping that one of his boys would have a chance to file on it if later ranching operations would make it useful. It is likely this later became the homestead of Orin's brother, Fred Lawrence. There was no sign of complying with homestead laws on the Lawrence Place in 1906 or 1907 when all other homesteads had some plowed land to show and inspector tho it is possible that this had been done much earlier and had sodded over. However if done at the time the house had been made it would have made Orrin or Fred too young to have filed on it. The John and the Harry Wiley families were life-long friends with Orrin Lawrences and have several references to the family in this volume, for they also took up residence in the Crooked Creek community from 1906 to the year 1920 and 1923. The old Lawrence place was of the Wiley's ranch a short distance. (south west) References of a like nature are also to found the same source as cited above for the early day homestead life of the Gillman claim takers of which Maud (later Mrs. Orrin Lawrence) was the eldest daughter of the Mr. Gillman of "Cheyenne River swimming" reputation. Other members of the same family who were on adjoining claims there, were a younger sister of Maud's, a Miss Myrtle Gillman, and she married a younger brother, George Gillman. Orrin Lawrence was an extra tall strong looking young man and so smiling and good natured that many could not resist the impulse to josh him and always got a clever friendly answer. He had to take a lot of kidding about his interest in the Homesteader's daughter. "Why couldn't anyone else herd their band of sheep north of the sheep camp!" or I 'How was he to find a buggy strong enough to carry two such tall heavy folks as him and Maude". To the last he would always grin and reply, "By Dolly, I like them big enough so I don't lose them." Yet Orrin did lose his wife in about sixteen years from their marriage. They had moved to the Caputa ranch home on Orin's father illness about the time they were married and lived there from then on till long after her death. All the family are now gone. Anyone seeing the young couple on their wedding day might have thought that such sturdy young folk had a long life of happiness ahead but friends worried lest the work on a large ranch--even with the help of a good husband and available help would still be too much for Maud. She had been unable to attend the local night long dances and parties for she had to get her rest. Picnics had given her a headache and horseback riding had made her ill. After a few trips to the Crooked Creek country they had adopted a small baby which they christened, Frank Lawrence but always referred to as Frankie. When Frankie was four or five and well used to his father taking full care of him they made the last trip to the old neighborhood that she was to ever make. Pride in her adopted son must have been the only thing that gave her strength to make that trip. Her thick ash blond hair was well streaked now, with gray and all the ruddy color gone from her cheeks--a shadow of herself she seemed to all but Orrin. He was astonished at her death a few years afterwards and insisted on her being buried in her wedding dress in the same church in which they had been married. She had faded and shrunk to doll size. Amid the folds of white crepe and heavy embroidery and the bridal lace and net, she seemed in no way like the bride of sixteen years before--yet to Orrin she was the same. It was a very sad funeral. None of the Gillmans had been contacted in time to get there. He seemed to get comfort from the presence of many local friends and neighbors. The only one of the old Homestead neighbors able to go to the funeral that day was Marion Wiley. (Anyone wishing more information might be able to get it from the Association of Black Hills Pioneers who have collected material since before 1900. My husbands Uncle taught school there in the winter of 1888 and they were in Rapid Valley then.) The Wiley Story William Parker Wiley Bill Wiley, as he was called around Wall in early days, was born in Woodville, Maine, June 5th, 1869. He was the fourth and youngest of four sons born to Henry Wiley and Hannah Gray Wiley. His father had returned from the California Gold Rush of 49 with some success and with the cash, he married and set up a home in Skowhegan, Me. where the first three sons were born. He enlisted in the 7th Regiment of Maine Volunteers and was wounded in service. After a year in hospitals he was sent home in care of an orderly. A partial recovery caused him to sell his farm and move to Woodville and buy a small place there with a productive orchard that he expected to be able to care for. Two of the sons had died while their father was in service. His elder brother was 15 years older than he and cared for the family while "Willy", as his mother called him, got his education at the local school. In the following years he alternately worked as apprentice in foundries and machine shops and took his turn at helping care for his invalid father. By the year 1901 he began to work for logging companies in the lumber operations around Bellingham, Washington as machinist and Donkey Engine expert at an unheard of salary by home standards. However he continued making vacation trips to visit Maine relatives. In the fall of 1904 his nephew, Harry Wiley, returned with him to the West. The next spring, 1905, both contacted small-pox. By the time they got out of the pest house there they were both too weak to work. The nephew was invited by a fellow sufferer to go with him to Dakota to visit the friend's uncle who had a sheep ranch near Rapid. (Al Bates) All reports from Dakota sounded promising and Will Wiley was soon on the scene and working as blacksmith on the Northwest line then near Wall. As he had promised to keep an eye on the nephew he did not at once file on a claim but waited until that young man had reached the legal age and then both filed on claims as near together as they could find. Williams claim being seven miles south west of the present town of Wall and cornering of the School Section there to the S.W. By the spring of 1907 he had built the first Wagon works and Blacksmith shop in Wall and finished a small house there where his mother came to attend to the meals and household matters. By the spring of 1911 the drouth had ruined his business there and departing Honyockers indicated that there might be a scarcity of trade there abouts. He again followed the trade on a road building project out of Chamberlain. He died there of typhoid fever, at Winner, S. Dak., without his relatives or friends ever being notified of his illness. A money belt in which he habitually carried a large sum of money was missing. The Odd Fellow Lodge brought the body back to Wall and officiated at the funeral and buried him in lot 8 of the Wall Cemetery, March 24th, 1911. Hannah Gray Wiley Hannah Gray Wiley was born at Plymouth, Maine in 1833, the second daughter of Alonzo Gray Sr. and Mary Parker Gray. Married Henry Wiley of Newburg, Me. at the age of eighteen. On the return of her husband from Civil War service in the 7th Maine Volunteers she dedicated the remainder of her life to caring for the invalid veteran. Her husband died in June of 1906 and she joined her son John in a trip to Dakota where her youngest boy Will had taken claim to 160 acres of Dakota soil. She left Maine in October that year and was never to return. She filed on a Homestead adjoining that of her son, John Wiley, about 22 miles N.E. of Wall at the extreme edge of Lake Flat. From the time of the death of her son, Will, she made her home entirely at the Harry Wiley Ranch S.W. of Wall, along with the elder son John Wiley and his wife Ella and granddaughter Marion. During these years she found a kindred spirit in the friendship of Mrs. Kinsley, (mother of Mrs. Charley Roberts) who had had similar pioneering background. At that place she had her own little one-room house furnished with her homesteading furniture where she cooked many of her own meals and died quietly after but a two week bed rest, surrounded by her own treasured mementoes. She was buried in the Wall Cemetery by the side of her son William after services at the Wiley Ranch on Crooked Creek, 1918. Ella Savage Wiley Ella Eunice Savage was the second child of George Savage Sr. of Fredrickton, N.B. and Julian Glidden Savage, granddaughter of Arnold Glidden who served in the Rev. War. She was born in Chester, Maine, in 1858. In 1881 she married John Wiley of Woodville, Me. and lived in that community until they moved to the town of East Eddington, Me. in 18 98. Two children were born to John and Ella Wiley during their days in Woodville, Harry Wiley and Marion Wiley. In the Eddington School Harry Wiley got his high school education and the daughter began school, attending until 1911. Ella and husband operated a summer Hotel and operated an 80 acre farm, until they made their final move to Dakota in 1911. In Dakota they made their home at the Harry Wiley Ranch on Crooked Creek until retiring to Rapid City after the marriage of the son, Harry. She suffered ill health during the years in Rapid City and died there in October 1926. After a funeral at the Behrens Mortuary the body was taken to Wall and burial made after services directed by the Galbraith Funeral Director there. She was laid to rest in the family lot beside Hannah Wiley. John Gray Wiley John Wiley was born in Skowhegan, Me. in 1854, eldest of a family of four sons born to Hannah Gray Wiley and Henry Wiley. He married Ella Savage of Chester, Me. in 1881. During his boyhood in Me. he had attended the common schools of Skowhegan and Woodville and later aided in the operation of the large orchard his father had there. This orchard developed into ahobbythat his father directed, that of grafting scions of every known sort of apple to trees that were large enough to hold another limb. This kept on until he said that each tree bore at least seven different sorts of apples. He continued this by much pruning and grafting on the Eddington property for there was already an orchard there that was thought to be at least a hundred years old. The old trees responded royally to the expert treatment and care and bumper crops of Really assorted apples found a ready sale at more than market prices, because of the excellence of the fruit and the huge yield. Hunting, fishing, collecting specimens of plant life and minerals were life long interests. Interested in all sports, swimming, racing, both foot and snowshoe, ice boating, etc., he had trained himself in the test of skill of his boyhood days - - in jumping out of a barrel flat footed. (that is not touching hands to anything or barrel part). I think that Lee Dixon or Harry Villbrandt have seen him use such jumps when he became angry on two different occasions. On his first trip to Dakota he became interested in a new variety of potato and the native squaw corn of the Indians. Taking seed of both these to Maine the first year that these experimental crops were planted proved so successful that the seed of both were in prime demand. The Squaw corn kept its stunted height but produced more and larger ears. Racoons, that had kept small gardens from growing sweet corn had never found this new sort at last account. Both he and his wife shared the same tastes and interests. Friends of Crooked Creek days who had like interests were Hootsenroder of Lake Flat and Charley Villbrandt's father in Wall. The Lake Flat family made yearly trips to see what success he was having with his new plants and experiments and the John Wiley family made the two day trip to Lake Flat to see results there. Apple culture was never successful in he never got to graft and trees but he did get a plum sport that produced sweet table size plums with proper feeding and fertilizing and a lilac that bloomed heavily at a ten inch height. (Wild plum sport found in Sago creeks brakes) After the retirement to Rapid City in 1920 his health and interests remained unchanged and did much hunting, fishing and plant and rock hunting in the nearby Hills. Always an expert woodsman he was overjoyed to cut pitch pine posts at ten cents a post until the boss thought that he was getting rich too fast and wanted him to take the daily wage he had refused in the beginning. Wiley quit. He could make ten dollars a day without half working at piece work he said. When the Alex Johnson Hotel was built he got the highest paid job of his life to that time, ten dollars a day as did anyone who could take the work of digging the foundation. After the death of his wife in 1926 he made his home between the two children. Always busy and with projects of his own at hand. Some time around 1934 he began to lose his sight and was lost several times in the Rapid City area, wandering far afield and being overtaken by night before he could reach home, but in all cases found on the correct route home which he could find at day break. He spent a great deal of time on the Pine Ridge Reservation after his daughter made her home there and was overjoyed to find that he could "Chat with the old Chiefs" in the, sign language learned from the Penobscot Indians of Maine in his youth. When his daughter and husband opened a store there in 1936 at what is now called Sharp's Corner he decided to make his home with them for the remainder of his life but passed away suddenly after a two day illness at the home of his son in West Rapid City, before the move could be done. Ten years after the death of his wife another Wiley funeral was held at the Berhens Mortuary and he was buried beside his wife in Wall when he was 82 years old. [Photo - Harry Wiley about 1916] [Photo - Wall 1907] [Photo - John and Ella Wiley 1917] Harry E. Wiley Harry Ethan Allen Wiley was the only son of John Wiley and Ella, his wife. Born in Woodville, Me., Feb. 4, 1885. He always found the fact that he had waited till the very month of his birth to be able to Homestead in 1906 his sure proof of his own age, and the only one he would admit to. He had early discarded the long middle name which was a family name on his mother's side in favor of the simple letter "Ell, and HE connected became his brand when he later had horses and cattle on Crooked Creek. A trip to the West Coast as a young man of 19 had ended with his coming to Dakota and getting interested in Homesteading. However, he had to wait until the Feb. of 1906 to do so. He lived on his original filing on Crooked Creek during all of the following years until 1924 when the family of wife and three children moved to the Alma Leery house in Rapid City. In 1920 he married Helen Federhart who had been born in St. Joseph, Mo. on Dec. 20,1894. Miss Federhart had been orphaned early in life and had been living at the home of her brother Karl, In Sioux City, Iowa until she came to Wall to take a job at the Miller's Hotel and Store. They became parents of five daughters, two sets of twins one of whom died in infancy. Wilma Wiley being the one to survive and named for Wilma Miller. The second set was born in 1923 and were but one year old when their parents moved to Rapid. Another daughter was born there in 1924. Harry Wiley suffered ulcers of the stomach several years before he was advised to move to another climate. They first moved in 1938 to Calif. and later to Granite Falls, Washington, where his health was little improved. He built for immediate use a set of buildings and set about landscaping for the home both had always dreamed of. Failing health slowed the work at times but the planting of trees, shrubs and flowers continued until such time as the home was ready to move into. It was one of the show places of that town. At the time of his death, Dec. 10, 1948 the house lacked but a day's work to move into. His funeral was held in Granite Falls after a delay of several days to allow his sister Marion Wiley Sharp and daughter Wilma Wiley Burdette of Porcupine and grandson Harry Burdette to arrive from Dakota. Other near relatives were Inez and Palmer Sterns, Olga, Wash., and their children, Martha, Edith, Lloyd, and Herbet Stearns; Mrs. Sterns twin Avis, Mrs. Itlo Francischi of Woodland, Calif.; and Mr. and Mrs. Mell Sudds of Granite Falls, Wash. and their children John, Helen, and Karl Sudds. Harry's only nephew and brother-inlaw, Walter W. Sharp and Grover Sharp were not able to make the trip west. Harry had requested his body be cremated and returned to Dakota and this was done, his Widow making the trip. When she is buried beside Harry that will be the last of that family to be placed in the old family lot in Wall. The name has died out. [Photo - Wilma, Inez, Helen, Harry, Avis and Karol Wiley] A Year of Early Day Homestead Life by Marion Wiley Sharp John and Ella Wiley lived near Bangor, Maine at the time the Pierre and Rapid City railroad was built. My brother, Harry Wiley and his Uncle Will Wiley were, so far as his Maine relatives knew, in Bellingham, Washington working as blacksmiths and machinists. Late February of 1906 they wrote from Dakota City. Both had taken homesteads eight miles south of that place. In glowing terms they wrote of the climate, the land, the chances for growth and the pleasant change from the Maine winter. At first the Maine Wileys could recall nothing they had heard of Dakota. Custer and his men had been killed to the last man, they knew. Bits of a song came to mind, "They'll take off your scalp, boys, out in the Black Hills." Grandfather Wiley had died the month before and Grandmother came to live with us. She advised all, "not to get worked up about it", for she would write to her younger sister who had homesteaded near Huron in the 1880's. Some folk might not have been encouraged by the answer, which was, in part, as follows: The summer weather is hotter than you will ever see if you half-way behave yourself. On the other hand, that will be a great improvement on a Maine winter. Any place to, "rough it!" You'd best live with me, here, Hannah, while they go look it over. Then, if you still insist on going West, go after the railway is finished, Then you won't have to "freight it" over that rough country where there are no roads. It was not plain if schools were available there. The family doctor said that the proposed trip would be good for my health, for I was a dwarfish, sickly runt of nine. Dad thought of square farms, of rock-free soil and wanted to go. It was settled for Grandmother Hannah Wiley, free for the first time since her marriage in 1850 to choose to seek her fortune with the family. As the three tickets would entitle the group to a gross weight of 390 pounds of baggage that could be checked free, articles that were hard to come by had to be taken rather than comforts. The new settlers had begged for maple sugar and home dried apples. That took first place. Next, feather-beds and bedding. A local dressmaker sewed garments and sheets of sturdy cloth, and for me a traveling dress of dark wool from the upper puffed sleeves of a dress of my mother's. This was enough for the long full skirt with a deep hem to "let out", long sleeves and high neck and had a fancy tucked and furbished yoke. A caretaker was found for the summer hotel my parents owned there and horses and buckboards sold. Visits along the way were planned for in Boston, Vermont, Montreal and Chicago. By starting in late September we would be in the Crooked Creek country before Thanksgiving. Uncle Will Wiley met us at the day and hour planned in Rapid City. All was ready to start for the claims in two days time. We might rest for the journey, he thought, and see a bit of the city. Hangman's Hill and its story was the favorite story and sight. The Indians on the streets and their souvenirs in the stores interested me. I was glad to see that dandelions grew in the yards before the straggling houses along with some sort of rose bushes. Rapid was pronounced a very nice little village, all the newcomers thought. From its very name, Dakota City, I had gotten the idea that the real competition with New York and Chicago was some place near Crooked Creek on the Cheyenne River. No doubt traffic of all sorts, streetcars, boats, and dock workers along the wharfs. Who could dare guess what! Uncle Will had bought as gentle and strong a bronc as he could find so he rode as we left Rapid sometimes joining the emigrants in the freight wagon. Dark of the first night was spent at the Al Bates sheep ranch on the divide near what is now New Underwood. On leaving the sheep ranch next morning we were soon followed by six coyotes. Anxious to get a close look at these "romantic killers of the plains" I found a seat on some rough lumber in the bottom of the load. This projected from beneath the tarp covering and allowed my legs to dangle nearly to the ground. The animals were purely curious and drew nearer till one was scarce a length away beautiful, healthy animals with a strange unseeing stare in their shiny amber eyes. They continued to follow till the top of the Wasta Hill was reached at noon. From there we could look down to the Cheyenne River and across to the Crooked Creek country and ate the lunch Mrs. Bates had sent along. But the animals had their curiosity satisfied, apparently, for they were nowhere to be seen. Reaching a spot nearer the river, I slipped from the wagon to walk a bit and finally got to the lead position on the trail. Thinking that such a raggletaggle group as to cause even the coyotes to marvel would be rather unwelcome in a large city I decided to walk through by myself and join the others at the river. They found me there wondering how such ill luck as to miss all of Dakota City, had happened. There was nothing to do but to get somehow with my blistered feet, to the top of the load and ford the stream with the rest, too tired and sweaty to do more than nurse my sore feet. I was never to see more of it than I had seen already. The freighter seemed as happy as when Uncle Will pointed out a tall pole with a red rag atop as the marker for the house. "He had to make it back to the river ford at Dakota City and it was already sundown," was his explanation, "unless he wanted to sit up and yarn the night through." We could see that he spoke truth for Harry was standing near a pile of blocks of freshly cut snow on a huge drift before a small sod house. He had anything but the air of a proud and happy host. There the driver began to unload with no more ado than throwing down the reins and pulling off the tarp, by the time the visitors had greeted Harry the trace chains were jingling merrily over the hills in the early darkness, bound for food and lodging with Dad Sissons back at the Cheyenne River. Harry explained that he had come in early morning to the soddy in order to make sure all was ready for making a good impression on the newcomers, that the house would be warm and supper ready. He had found the roof blown a half mile away by the last blizzard carrying with It all his supplies of food and tools that had been hung on the rafters in the hope of adding weight to the over-light roof. Worst of all the house had drifted level full of hard packed snow. He had nothing on the place so start a new roof with exception of a beautiful lone Cottonwood, which must be sadly sacrificed in the emergency. Somehow it had been felled, trimmed and shortened to proper length and raised to its place atop the house, with the aid of his little Indian pony, a rope and much piling of snow to form a sloping rise to the top, that the whole house did not fall in spite of being so well packed within. Having now a ridge pole on which to nail the broken, splintered bits of the original roof, he had been able to salvage enough to make a rude support for a tarp which was now the only roof he had except for a bit of mended flooring where the stove pipe was already in place. The remainder of the wreckage lay where it had fallen in Dad Gillmans doorway, a tangle of broken sacks of groceries, and kerosene soaked bacon, scattered tools, twisted kitchen pots, and pans as well as a completely flattened lantern whose oil had mixed with all the flour that had not been thrown from the sacks on landing. Worst of all the snow had covered everything including the match box. He had no way of making a fire till we came, for all the matches were wet. What was the wonder expressed by all who crowded into that miserable, unlucky room! Fearful of knocking down what had been left of his shelter by any careless use of a shovel as he prayerfully removed the snow, he had simply evened up the walls with the idea that the melting snow might moisten the sod enough as it melted to act as fresh mortar sticking the whole together again. After these marvels, who could doubt that it would not be so! After Grandma had admired the frosty glitter of the walls she asked Harry how it chanced that the floor was dry. Harry admitted ruefully to having just carried the boards out before we arrived, by saying, "I'll have to put them over the tarp to keep that from blowing away with the next wind in case the house don't fall down first.?? As there was little fuel to keep the hastily lit fire from going out and we had no light except what came from the open door of the stove, a hurried lunch was eaten and bedding unrolled on some of the clean new lumber brought from Rapid. After a quick check to see how the melting snow was entering the sod walls to strengthen them we all "turned in" tired but happy in our new home. Late next morning I woke to a warm sunny room and a glimpse of the snow pile facing the door. Dad was trying to dig a ditch to divert away from the open door. "What a country! It's just like they say California is! Gets hot even in the winter!" Uncle Will and my Father spent the day in laying a floor and making a pair of large bunk beds. Mother hung sheets around each, curtain style, to allow privacy in dressing. Trunks were emptied of feather beds. Placed over the hay Will had brought weeks before for that purpose, they made a very soft bed and all rejoiced that they had been thoughtful enough to bring their very best goose feather beds. All but Uncle Will. Either he or Harry would be there every night till all was ready for the winter. They would have to sleep on the floor in a tarp bed roll at the foot of the bunks. Grandmother and I would share the lower bunk until a small bed could be contrived for her own individual use and Dad and Mother had to sleep on the "top shelf." Will had taken extra care in making the beds by giving both the head and foot strong wall of the rough boards. The sod side had to have covering that the beds would be free of falling sod. We slept more soundly now, secure that all would have protection should the weakened sod walls ever fall. The bed heads became dressing tables by addition of mirrors, combs and such assorted articles as the owner felt he needed at hand. The sides and foot were used for storage of what garments could be hung from nails and little treasures tucked under the feather beds where only the owners would be likely to look. Our first visitor, Orin Lawrence, came to call before he let the dog drive the sheep home that afternoon. His sheep camp was about a mile south of the claim, he said. He admired the clever way the beds were made but still thought a frame building with "button beds" was best for an old batch like him. "I never have to make mine when I am alone. Course now my mother is there and my two brothers and. they keep them buttoned up to the wall so she will have plenty of room and no excuse for not cooking us a big supper. I am going to have a dance one of these nights and it comes in handy then." Learning that he had been cooking and caring for his own house mother asked him to explain the making of "Bachelor Biscuits". Harry's observation of the matter had not been credited. The biscuits were made with no kneading, no breadboard, no rolling pin! But it was true and we had our first hot meal, home cooked in our own home that night. The bachelor was supposed to have the oven heated and the pan greased, and if his hands were not clean by then to wash them. Then he dusted the sack of flour well and rolled back the surplus cloth at the top to make a heavy cuff to hold it upright. The next step was to dustout a depression about like a hen's nest where salt and baking powder were placed and stirred with a dry hand. Add, then, what water, milk, or egg mixed with water that he needed to make as much bread as he wanted. Stir and mix till the liquid takes up as much flour as it will. Form the biscuit by pinching off a piece and rolling it in the hands, place in pan and flatten. Nothing to do but bake and set the flour back on the nail it was taken from. These indefinite instructions charmed mother. Here was a chance to try all sorts of experiments! The baking in the little one pie size oven of the stove pipe variety we had at that time was too small to really satisfy her desire to have all the biscuits served at the same time and temperature. From a wandering cowboy she learned that her Maine style apple dumpling was really a "sun-of-a- gun" to the camp cooks on the roundup and that their "Devil-in-a-sack" was some sort of boiled English Christmas pudding but made of what ever came to hand. "But it had to be boiled in a clean flour sack" the stranger warned. "Turn the sack so the inside is smooth and the pudding will come out in a round ball and be sure to have plenty of flour dry and well rubbed into the sack." Mother never made biscuits, yeast bread, or sun-of-a-gun for the rest of her Dakota stay except in this manner, Bachelor Biscuit style. We found out by experience now that the old settler had not been joking entirely when he said, "I didn't have a rag to my back when I came out here and just look at me now! All rags! It was true! We, and all our neighbors had planned too well. All, like my parents, had brought only the most durable garments so that the flour sacks of strong cotton cloth were prizes. My mother's first bit of sewing was the fashionable lingerie of Dakota and other Western States. Advertising had its finest hour and all free-gracious-and-for-nothing! I don't recall if I helped swell the sales of Millers Pride or if my parents bought Swans Down Flour. I only recall that I wore those garments with the greatest satisfaction of any garment I have ever owned. I reasoned that if mother could make such an up-to- the-minute garment of a flour sack, surely, she could make me the finest dress I had ever seen if only I could get a gunny sack for her to make it of. Look where I might, only short-sacks were to be seen and so I implored Harry to bring me a good, big gunny sack. I didn't tell him what it would be used for. He would see! When Harry rode up next evening and tossed a tightly rolled sack into my outstretched hands, my disgust was hidden by my sudden interest in his pony. I had never noticed her before or the strange, huge cowboy saddle. How thrilling to learn the names of all the parts as Spanish John himself had told my own brother. I looked at him with new respect. The Spanish tongue is still tipped with magic for me. Ranchero might be shortened to ranch or rodeo, have the wrong syllable accented, it was still Spanish as a Bad Hombre, sounds more thrilling than a bad man. Daily I searched for new ways of saying things a western way and soon had quite a list of new words which I was careful to use in writing to my eastern schoolmates. As I had shown such interest in the pony, Queeny, I was given a sedate ride and Dad's interest in the whole affair earned him an offer of a horse to ride; "On that little stroll you're making to Lake Flat tomorrow." The little "Stroll" taken by my dad to a point over twenty miles north of Wall, was taken afoot. There he looked over the land that he and my grandmother were to stake a claim on a few days afterwards. He took two days for the whole trip. But he returned as fresh as when he set out and much happier than most for he had found the land to be level and, he thought, richer for farming. He was plainly right, but the picture had changed when we returned to Dakota in 1911. Instead of more water than the honyockers knew what to do with the land was then so dry that not one planted seed sprouted that spring. No one could say that Dakota didn't show samples of the weather that was in store! As soon as the early blizzard had passed, homesteaders were seen busily working at sodding thin or light roofs. No one wanted to go through the experiences of the Wileys with their sod house. Uncle Will sodded his whole house leaving but the door and one small window exposed. Some drove strong stakes and stretched strands of barb wire from light, hastily contrived shacks. Men went daily to the Sage Creek brakes for cedar posts to fence a small yard "against blown out of the yard while getting wood." One man began to fence the entire side of his place as a guide "against losing his way home." He heard to say that the whole place was warmer during a cold wind because, by pure chance it had been put on the north side of the house. "Everybody thinks the wind has gone down once they get in the shelter of that fence!" Settlers went to Dakota City more often for there were cottonwood logs on every sand bar once the high water went down. It was free if you could get it before the next freshet carried the wood further down stream. Harry borrowed a team from the boss at the R.R. Camp and brought a high piled load. Dad and Uncle Will complained of the sandy wood dulling their ax at each swing but they were secretly pleased to have chores about the place. When the neighbor spoke of his buildings, you knew he had but the one shack yet that expression told volumes. He had been there long enough to have a toilet. The first good use was made of a gunny sack in this connection. It was used as a door, or as a curtain, whichever it most resembled. Orin Lawrence was a frequent visitor and about that time announced a "shindig" at his place that very night. All were invited to come early "and make a night of it." Mother said that it would be too bad for Marion to miss seeing the first dance since we came to Dakota. Uncle Will declared he had "three left feet." Grandmother had spent the day hunting for Indian arrow heads among the close scattered bones of Buffalo, on a flat to the north, and declared she was too sleepy to sit up a minute after eight o'clock. Harry was at the Camp. We three able Wileys arrived at dark and found a crowd assembled, visiting, playing cards, bedding sleepy babies, or helping about the stove with tasks connected with the supper which was to be held at midnight. Pans of bread were being kneaded, fashioned, punched down, or already baking in the oven of a huge range. A large space had been cleared. Whatever it had contained was heaped outside and there were lumber wagons tied at the corrals, Orin soon appeared to announce, "the music has come so it's time to get that stove out of here!" Experienced hands carried the stove pipes out so carefully not a drop of soot marred the wooden floor which had been scrubbed to a white velvety finish. Gunny-sack-protected-hands carried the hot stove close behind. It was held so evenly and steadily that a kettle kept humming away on the stove. Before one could reach a door or window to see what was to happen next a length of pipe was in place and the bread-baking continued without a moments delay, the fiddler took a chair, a caller stepped up and the dancing began with -a whoop and a yell. A square dance was under way! with the first set in place it started. What a lucky thing there was but one set! Band! Down came one of the Button beds just grazing a couple who were about to follow the caller's "greet your partners with an elbow swing." Without missing a step the young couple were atop the bed executing a faster, longer "elbow swing," than common as the crowd cheered and shouted encouragement. When hands extended to button the bed in place once more they promenaded from there with the rest, and the dance went on and on for the rest of the night. The fiddler could have been none other than George Gunn. Only he would have been able to keep all in step for just that length of time to allow all to pass off with such a flourish of high spirits and good-will. Before that night was over I had a chance to see a man whom Uncle Will had mentioned. He had an extra finger on each hand! The card players all appeared to be extra skillful and quick with their hands and to have the usual amount of fingers. I noticed after a bit, that one could shuffle cards so fast his fingers made a flesh colored blurr. Careful attention to names, and I heard him called "Weaver" and remembered Will had called him that. He had the most beautifully shaped hands I ever saw. Some time in the summer of 1938 I came into Wall from the north down Main Street to call at the Bill Clark home near the schoolhouse. We had barely seated ourselves to visit when someone called at the door and asked to speak to Marion Wiley. "Do you remember a Weaver couple who homesteaded on Crooked Creek in 1906?" she asked by way of greeting. Before I could consider whether it would sound polite or not I heard myself saying, "Do you mean the one with five fingers ?" and "then you are Mrs. Weaver." Such a thing could happen only in Wall! But what a good visit we had! Somewhere in our talk she told me that both her eldest son and his eldest son had five fingers on each hand. They did not know how many generations this had happened. Always the eldest son of the eldest son. Jess Harris, wife and family lived in a large comfortable log house near what is now the Sage Creek road from Quinn Table to Wall. We were so amazed at his garden there in that hard white dirt that we never remembered what year he came there., The year before our arrival he had planted an extra large garden that had given a bumper crop of the most delicious vegetables ever seen everyone told us. The newcomers beat a path to his door to buy the lucious heads of cabbage the tender perfect carrots any sort of thing he could sell. "If that white, flowery stuff will raise such crops what will we raise on the rich black soil of Crooked Creek! Harry marveled openly. All were happy to be one of the first in such a land. I defy anyone to speak of those times without speaking of a gunny sack. I have decided that the west was won by the aid of barb wire and gunny sacks. Since I started to write this, I have mentioned the sack several times. One may as well face it and give a few other uses of that humble helper. Men started using them for extra warmth over overshoes in blizzards long before women crossed the Missouri. For that reason they had time to find more uses and they did so. The man who first used a deep fringe of snipped ends of sacking to fasten to the nose band of a harness bridle for protection against nose flies helped not only his horse and himself but taught his neighbor as well. Women had learned to hang a fringe so cut above the screen doors when flies became common. On the other hand our Crooked Creek soddy had the first wall to wall carpet effect due to Grandmother's use of a gunny sack by way of a mop as soon as the new floor was laid. She had neglected to note that the lumber was rough and splintery. Newly washed, it seemed smoother than she had thought but on drying, hairs of every length stood up bravely. As they were hairs of all length and thickness the effect should have been a sculptured one. It wasn't. If one lay on the floor and looked across it the effect was not bad. One saw less of it. But seen from the usual angle it did look like a badly chewed coyote who was suffering from both mange and boils. It never became popular because no one cared for it. It was wall to wall though. Around horses men used the sacks as saddle blankets, horse collars, curry combs, medicine applicators, cleaning rags, trace chains, pads and for making the little hat like things men made of a square of sacking to keep bott flies from the forelock and from laying its eggs there. It might have been a draw who got the most uses but at all events it was there when needed and it was "handy." A short time after the shindig at Orin's, Dad Gilman came for a short visit at his claim. The remainder of the family was to come for as long a stay as possible at Christmas time. Mr. Gilman was a very interesting man to me for he asked me about my studies as if he knew how very old I was in spite of my dwarfish looks. When he asked what I had been reading at school last and I told him Benjamin Franklin's autobiography. He said nothing, but appeared the next day with a copy of King Arthur and his Court and promised to bring the biography and other like books when he came at Christmas time. He was a train dispatcher in Sioux City, Iowa. That was the first inkling I had that most of our neighbors were from I-owe-uh, "Iowa", with the flat, even if spoken, pronunciation of the Yankee, we knew what state was meant . With the accented first syllable and the clipped accent of the West, no we didn't understand. The men who had guns and liked to use them found game a plenty in the brakes. Huge western rabbits or jack rabbits were very common then as well as the small cottontails. The sickness that later wiped out so many and made the meat unsafe for handling had not yet appeared or been heard of there. Grouse and prairie chicken fattened on the cedar berries. Thanksgiving found us feasting on what Uncle Will called "Grouse Goose". He suggested mother's trying a new dish made by removing the best meat from several fat prairie hens and cooking all, well mixed with sage and onion dressing as she would cook a boiled pudding. When this was served on the lone platter with the bare bone of one of the boned legs, it looked like a huge fowl on its back. All thought it tasted as good as anything they had ever eaten. For her daily view of the countryside, Grandmother went to the hilltop marker each morning. There rose quartz abounded along with bits of petrified wood and agate. The true, unfading rose of the stone earned her first attention. Rocks in Maine were gray and dull. To hoard such shimmering riches they were placed in ever widening circles about the base-of the pole with its - gay red flag. By Christmas time this monument was higher than my head and possibly five feet across at the base. To later quartz hunters it must have been a pleasant sight. Grandma cared only for the true rose quartz. We lost track of the time. It was later brought to my attention that the first sand-storm and prairie fire were seen the day before Christmas that year. That morning Uncle Will came into the house declaring the wind was going to beat sixty miles an hour if it kept up. He glanced at me watching mother make the first mince pie I was ever to have in the West. After a bit he firmed his hat as if planning to go to work about the well he and Dad were digging. When he went out I noticed he had put on his heaviest jacket and saw him hunched against the wind heading north toward Dakota City. Mother said nothing but Grandma was plainly disturbed though both she and I put on our wraps for our, morning trip to the Quartz marked pole. From there we saw Will vanish in a fog of gray. Plainly a sandstorm such as we had heard mentioned. Quinn Table was plainly visible but a cloud of gray sand masked the north end. Soon we saw flames leap up and race out of the sand squall with blue smoke marking for long periods the spot where some lake bed or unlucky homesteader's house gave it some resistance. Folks might have fought it what they could. We never learned. Most had fire guards plowed around their houses. We were all so worried about the bad news that Will must have remembered to go off like that in the face of such a storm that all must have forgotten what day it was. It was chilly even huddled in shelter of the marker but some watched from there all the daylight hours. No fire started on our side of Sage Creek. When Uncle Will came long after dark, there was so much to tell him that all questions were forgotten. A well stuffed stocking made answer in itself when the Wileys got stirring about next morning. No later gift every touched me so. It was hard to delay the opening of a sock so well stuffed but it was made to last as long as possible. I didn't want to speak till it was sure that it could be done in a gay and grown up manner with no tears. But the big thing in the toe proved to be the biggest onion anyone had ever seen. In the laughter that followed I was spared. It could be truthfully said that I knew now, for sure who Santa was for no one else but he would put an onion in the toe of a Christmas Sock. Grandmother was the only one who wailed at the lack of holiday trinkets at the Balknap store. The oranges, mixed candy and nuts went very well with the prairie chicken and mince pie dinner. Rabbit meat was the base of the new mince meat and it went as well as bear meat or the venison mince meat of Maine fame. Will's account of his trials of the past hunting season kept us laughing for days. [Photo - Marion Sharp in riding skirt. Blacksmith shop on Wiley farm 1916.] [Photo - Conrad Johnson, Lester Gunn, Ernest Kruckenberg, Hurley Brennan, Lincoln school 1916.] [Photo - Harry Wiley place 1936] [Photo - Taken time of submarginal land deal razed and burned building on old Wiley Ranch on Crooked Creek. Building ready to be burned. Upper dance floor removed.] [Photo - Mrs. Weaver, 1940 Walter and Billy Clark, Peggy, Patty and Matilda Clark.]