HomeHistorical Photos

The following is a copy of our family history that I had compiled a number of years ago for my sister, Shirley.  Copies were given to any family member that wanted it.  I have started to re-construct it as it was done on a very primitive word processor and "printed" on a dot matrix printer.  Today's technology will make it easier to read and easier to distribute.  I will post it on the internet as I complete the process of copying the text of the history.  I also plan to include photographs wherever possible.  Anyway that is the plan, we will see how it works out.

The Baggett Coat of Arms is shown above, and a family picture of my sister Shirley Ann Lang (Leberak), Myself Robert Eldridge Leberak, my mother Dorothy Louise Leberak, and my father Eldridge Revel Leberak.  The picture was taken in 1957 while my sister was visiting at home from New York City where she worked for Pan American Airlines.



1718 Cedar Grove Drive Apt. 3D
Manitowoc, Wisconsin

Dear Sis,

A few weeks ago someone gave me a program that made it easy to put together a family tree, so I called Mom and told her about it. She said she could supply some of the information that I needed, and that she had a few letters and some other stuff I might be interested in. She also mentioned your interest in our family history.

Being the cheapskate that I am, and with "The Season" upon us I thought "Gee what a neat Christmas Present for Shirley and Mom and anyone else that might be interested!"

So, here it is a collection of a bunch of letters from Ma, her Ma, her Ma's Ma, our Dads Ma and a family tree that fills nearly 26 pages!

I hope that you enjoy reading this material as much as I enjoyed putting it all together, and that maybe your Grand Children (should you ever get any) will get a kick out of it too.

The spelling in the letters has been kept pretty much the same as in the original letters. As far as the tree part goes, please make any corrections or additions that you have or may want to include on the copy that you have, and send it to me, I will make the changes and additions and print new pages for you to insert in the book.


Camp Grant
August 18, 1918

Dear Mike Lebarek

Waiting for a answer from you.. Did not receive no letter from you yet.. Seems so you must be pretty busy. You better get busy and tell me all the news.

Going to leave from here pretty soon.. Don't know where we are going to land. Don't allow no more visitors over here How is everybody, all well yet.. I am kicking around yet.. Pat Haney was shot in the range 70 times one forenoon, 10 times in 6 seconds That's going some.. When get home show you how to roll the prairie chickens over.

Got woolen clothes all ready That means leave pretty soon. Be good to yourself I'll try to do the same so good by Be sure to answer now


Herman Matz
CO K 342nd Inf. Camp Grant

This photo shows my Grandmother, Anna Leberak holding me.  That is my sister whose hand is being held by Herman Matz in 1940


On April 15 (1931) Julius Matz of the Town of Shields disappearˇed and his whereabouts was not known.. He went from his home on April 13 to the home of his sister, Mrs. Mike Leberak where he remained for two days. Some time in the afternoon of the second day he left the Leberak home not telling anyone where he was going. Inquiries were made as to whether anyone had seen him, but no trace of him could be found.

Searching parties were out in all directions and on Tuesday evening April 28 his lifeless body was found floating in the Montello river just back of the Thos. McPhillips farm.

The coroner Arthur Jaster was called and the body was taken from the water and brought to the Jaster Wacholz Undertaking rooms in this village (Montello) A jury was drawn and the remains were viewed and identified as those of Julius Matz. Doctor Cavanaugh and Dr. Federman performed the post mortem examination and they stated to the jury that no marks of violence could be found on the body and that the lungs were filled with water which would indicate that the man was alive when he went into the water.

Listening to the testimony of several witnesses the jury returned a verdict that Julius Matz came to his death by accidental drowning on or about April 15, 1931. After the post mortem examination the remains were taken to the home of his mother in the town of Shields and the funeral was held yesterday. Deceased was a man 46 years of age and unmarried.

(The above was written by Anna Leberak)

Jules's mother, Julianna Matz, was very upset that they could not find Jule. She heard of a man in Milwaukee who could help them, and Eldridge took her down to see him.

He told them that he was in water, and that they passed him on the way down. He returned to Montello with them, and Eldridge took him in a car and the man told Eldridge where to drive. The man had a small instrument in his hand, and they rode around until he told Eldridge to "stop the car". They went to the water, and there they found him (Jule).

Dorothy Leberak, Dec. 1988

This photograph shows from Left to Right, Herman Matz, Laura Matz Campbell, Jule Matz (about whom the above story was written), Tillie Matz Gelher,

Anna Matz Leberak, Michael Leberak (my grandmother and grandfather), Adolph Matz, Alvina Matz Tagatz

Seated in front are Jullienna Matz Tagatz and August Matz


Eldridges' great grandmother and great grandfather;

Martin Tagatz

Born February 2, 1802, died January 5, 1867 Born at Zachesberg Province Posen Germany, Carne to America  in 1852, was a blacksmith.

His Epitaph: Mit Fried fu hr Ich van daunen zu Christ dem Bruder mein Das Ich mach zu Ihrn kornrnen Und ewig bei Ihrn sein (With peace I departed from here to Christ my brother that I carne to Him to be with Him forever.)

Gustine Messall,
Frau Van Martin Tagatz
Born May 8, 1810,
Died September 30, 1874

Dorothy believes they are buried near Germainia, Wisconsin in the Matz Tagatz cemetary or in the Germania Cemetery.

Eldridges grandparents
August John Matz
Born December 14, 1837, Bromberg (Germany).
Died May 19, 1917.
Born Bezerk
His 1st wife, Ottilie Tagatz died and he was married again to the sister of his first wife, Julianna Tagatz (daughter of Martin and Gustine)

Julianna Tagatz
Born in Wisconsin December 7, 1855, Died April 7, 1942 (she celebrated her last birthday on Pearl Harbor day)

The following is from a letter from Mary Beeman Baggett

...You asked about Ma's brother. He served in the civil war and was hanged as a spy. They called him Betsy Sharp. I never read of him but Ma would know more of him than I recall.

This is a copy of a letter from my mother Mary Beeman-Baggett to her mother Lydia Ann Beeman. It was written the first Christmas
after they (my parents) were married and had moved to Oklahoma. They were living in a dug-out, which was just what the name implies, as I understand it.

Lela, Oklahoma
December 27, 1897

This is a photograph taken at the 50th Wedding anniversary of Mary and Edward Baggett in 1947.

Pictured with the wedding couple are their children, Neva, Cleo, Billie, Elsa, Hank, Agnes, Harley, Dot, Lola, and Edith

The picture was taken near the Waupun City Hall and shows all of the brothers and sisters.

Dear ones at home
Knowing that you will be anxious to know if we received the things safely I will write to you this morning. Mr. Williams brought the package over Xmas afternoon and I was so pleased surprised and bumfuzzled that I couldn't undo the package. He told us there was a registered letter at the office for us so we went to Lela that night to a Xmas tree and got it. Ever and ever so many thanks.

I fared well this Xmas. Besides what you sent us Pearl got Ed a handkerchief and me a scarf pin. Mr Abe Kolb got us the prettiest pickle dish I ever saw, a glass canoe about 10 or 12 in. long. And Ed got me a pair of mittens and a black sailor hat with a band and bow of black velvet ribbon on it besides candy and oranges. We had a turkey roast, cranberries, dressing, gravy, sweet potatoes, apple pickles, kraut, cake, raisin and cream pies, cookies, and I can't think of what else, Xmas for dinner. Then yesterday we were invited over to Mrs. Kolbs for dinner and had turkey, fried chicken, sausage, light bread and corn bread, dressing and gravy, peaches, cranberries, pickles, grape and sweet potato pie and the finest mashed potatoes (that's something uncommon in the strip) Two kinds of fine cake we just had a sumptuous feast and the nicest time.

While we were having such a fine time the boys at Lela yesterday were having an awful fight at church. The 4 Renfrow boys against Frank Guy and I don't know who else. Guy had been talking about Lillie Jones and Ira Renfrow took it up and they fought with stove poker--stove shovel--anything. Ira Renfrow was knocked senseless and I guess they were all bleeding pretty bad. They are having a trial this morning and Ed has gone over and Earl is waiting on me now. Sunday School hadn't commenced, the Supt. wasn't there. There is considerable excitement about it.

We are all well but not feeling quite so well as we would if we hadn't had so much Xmas, Ed was complaining about a headache. Well good-bye God Bless and keep you all.














Richmond, October 12, 1862j

This photo is of Lydia Ann Pomeroy Beeman who lived from 1838 until her death in 1929.  It was she who wrote this letter to her granddaughter Mary

Ann Pomeroy:Dear Grand daughter:



After some time I once more send you a few more lines to let you know our present healths are as good as common for us. Orson (?) has been sick but is better. We hear of many of the men that have gone to war that are sick and dead. David Ross and many others that are sick.

I have just got home from a visit to Josiahs and Willards. I found them well and trying to live in good earnest about the war in their part of the land. It was a very dying time, funerals almost every day. The summer complaint and diphtheria and the typhoid fever was the most prevailing disease.

The fall has been very warm. We have not had any frost to kill anything yet. Fruit is plenty here this fall. We have had good Sunday School in our district and the two south of us. The young folks have been practicing singing in our school house, made a good start in singing. Our school teacher, Eliza Thayer is well-versed in the rules, teaching the use for Sunday singing, The Golden Chain and The Sabbath School Bell, and have learned a good many pieces and some that cannot be beet.

We had a pick nick the three districts over to Jane Mawmbers and each tried to have the best table and the North district had the preference, had the most that was pleasing to the eye and fair to the taste and most of nice. We have ou*** in the two weeks and have haa to grove meet*** baptized and we have good times and the*** to have our night meetings.

We have lost on***members has gone. Lorenzo Lete to fight*** our country and his wife has gone to live with*** in Livonia. We have not heard from Job*** more than a year but Leonard Wilcox's wife*** ***lives and by him we may hear*** *** should write how your mother a*** I will write you again, hold forth***

The * are caused by a mouse gnawing a hole on a corner where the letter was folded so parts of the words are missing (DLL)


(This is a copy of a letter from Great Grandfather Alger, to my mother, presented to my Great Granddaughter, Patricia Jean Grennell, Christmas 1946.)

2957 Pine Street, ,
Everett, Washington
12 December, 1947

Dear Pat,

I'd written on you card last night, then thru the night a new idea came to me: October 12, 1862, my great grandfather wrote a letter to my mother. His name was Alger. I do not remember what his given name was and the letter has been torn. I think his name was Chancey (Chauncey?) but that may be entirely wrong. I know it was my Mothers name: Chancey Pomeroy. He died when Ma was about 9 or 10 years old and had plowed in a field -they lived near Hudson, Michigan -- where some smallpox victims had been buried and so got smallpox and died from it. Ma said she remembered climbing around on his bed as he lay.sick and she took a slight form of his sickness. Then she lived with her Grandma and Grandpa. 0 yes, I forgot little Pat, you have not been properly introduced to my Great Grand father, which I never met or any of the others but Ma's sister. So Patricia Grennell, allow me to present my Great Grandfather Alger!

Not everyone is privileged to present -- even by letter -their own Great Grandfather to their own Great Granddaughter -so it gives me much pleasure to introduce you two! Wonder if you will care to keep and present it to your Great Grandchild?  Little pat, I feel much pride in what he wrote to my Mother: Things of good report, Sunday Schools, picnics, singing, also showing concern for his fellow neighbors in telling of their sicknesses that had visited their community also those gone to the Civil War. My Bible says, "Behold how beautiful for brethren to dwell together in unity," and this verse seems to be very worth while, and I've told over and over how nice it has been to know my own group are harmonious. My prayer has been -- even before they were born -- that their lives would be given to doing Christ's work. Not necessarily preachers or foreign missionaries, but with Christ in their souls -- they can't help but live the life of Christianity. My prayer reaches out to my children and childrens children. etc.

Pat, I take pleasure in telling you that God has given me some special tasks to perform which I've felt brought His own blessings on. Besides raising a family of 10 children, He gave me Sunday School work for many years -- I was Secretary and treasurer of our S. S. in Maple Grove Church. Then I guess I was about 27 when I was asked to teach a class in Lele, Okla., where we moved soon after we were married. I've taught much of my time since. Three years of that time I acted as Supt. of a little S. S. in Center Grove District, in Kansas. 

Before I left for our Anniversary party I told those in authority that I'd not take a class again -- still I sometimes wish for one. Also, I felt that God gave special leading in letting a new neighbor, Mrs. Eastwood, come to my home one morning after sweet potatoes. I asked her how she liked Oklahoma. She said she liked the country but that there was no social life. From which I called my neighbors -- 18 or 20 ladies or more to come to our home and we organized what we called a "Ladies Aid". We had much pleasure and as we helped each other we felt we were doing real good. Later in Kansas, I called another group to our home and we organized another "Ladies Aid", and Pat, I was asked to help my sister, Emma Mueller, and another woman to write the rules of the last one, and one that I especially remember of was that no gossip or slandering was to be allowed -- which I believe was carried out while I lived there at least.

Later, as I'd often wanted to get back to the old school grounds where I'd spent so much time in childhood, and young womanhood -- when an old schoolmate came home on a visit I told my brother Marty Beeman, "We just must get together over at the school house and have a reunion there." Marty said, "Go get your had Mary and I'll get Lizzie started (his Ford) and We'll go."" which I did. The old Reunion was made an annual affair and is still going, as is the Ladies Aid i~ Center Grove, so I've felt it was pleasing to God that they were formed.

Well, Pat, I could write much more but I wonder if you are tired of this? I've often wondered many things of my ancestry which I do not know. This may be of pleasure to you or you may wonder why she wrote that. Well, I guess it's like all bits of Historical work. Just to link the past to the present and show God's mercy and loving kindness to man.

With lots of Good Wishes for your happiness, and that you have many good things to occupy your life, for I've found truth in this old song which my best loved teacher, Ollie Gerrall taught us many years ago:

Little rills make wider streamlets,
Streamlets swell, the rivers flow,
Rivers join the mountain billows Onward,
onward as they go.
Life is made of smallest fragments
Shade and sunshine work and play.
Let us then with earnest effort,
Learn a little every day.

Tine seed make plenteous harvests
Drops of rain compose the showers.
Seconds make the flying minutes,
And the minutes make the hours.
Let us hasten then and catch them
As they pass us on our way
And with honest ernest effort learn a little every day

Let us while we read or study
Cull a flower from every page
Here a line and there a sentence
'Gainst the lonely time of age
At our work or by the wayside,
While we ponder, while we play
And with honest true endeavor,
Learn a little every day.

Great Grand Mother Baggett
(Mary Etta Beeman-Baggett)

(This was a copy of a letter to Patricia Jean Grennell by her great grandmother, Mary Etta Beeman-Baggett, Christmas 1946

The Baggett family held a reunion in California in 1961, Your mother Dorothy Leberak wrote the following for that reunion.

Way down south in 1872

There came to the earth a baby -- brand new.
Grandma and Grandpa Baggett loved the little kid
-Said "What shall we call him? How about 'Ed?'"

Three years later, in the heart of the nation,
A little girl-baby came to view the situation.
She had big brown eyes, and cheeks like a cherry-
Grandma and Grandpa Beeman called their little girl Mary.

The kids grew up, some way or another,
And they turned out to be our father and our mother.
The wedding bells rang out that fine October day,
Then they hitched up the covered wagon and drove away.

They homesteaded in Oklahoma, out on the prairie,
Happy in their dug-out was Ed and his bride Mary.
Many were the heartaches through the long, lean years,
But I think that the joys out-weighed the tears.

Along came Agnes with her coal-black hair,
Then Elsa--just the opposite, so blonde and fair.
Next was Harley--they were glad he was a boy-
With Neva close behind him to bring the family joy.

Lola was next in line--they used to call her Curly-
I don't know why they called her that, 'cause she wasn't, really.

Then came Cleo, she really was a joy-
Followed by Ede, who should have been a boy.

Next was Dot -- Now there was a beaut -
Too bad she got too big to be cute!
The kids went to the pasture to herd the cows one morn;
That was the day little Billie was born.

When Shockey came along
Our cup runneth over
We finally got our heart's desire,
Another little brother.

There was always lots of work to do,
But many hands made it light.
And we'd work and play, laugh and sing
from morning until night.

With cotton to be picked, and cuckleburs to hoe,Piles of wood to chop, and piles of clothes to sew.
Butter to be churned, and overalls to wash-
Potatoes to be peeled,_and the wood-box -- gosh!

Someone always needed new shoes made out of darned old hen-skin
Pop said "no one wears out shoes as fast as you kids kin."
They're cheaper by the dozen, but this thought came too late
They ended up with only ten, and all boys -- but eight! THOUGHTS OF OTHER DAYS


Dear Grandchildren:
As yesterday was Mothers Day, in the place of his customary sermon, our minister brought to us a Short story of his mothers life, and it was quite interesting to us, so I thought you might be interested in some stories I could tell of my own mother and father too. I believe both were born in New York State.  Strange, but both also lived part of their lives in Michigan too. They were married in New York and took the train west in 1867 on March 18. I don't remember just where it was, (Canton, Mo.) but somewhere they stopped and Pa bought a team and wagon and they drove on to Missouri and spent the summer there. They were called Yankees, and those Missouri folks had strange notions of Yankees those days. Ma used to tell us that they had thought all Yankees had blue bellies and had horns, and one girl said "We heard that Yankees had blue bellies; does your husband have a blue belly?" Their questions gave Pa and Ma lots to laugh at, and I guess they needed something to cheer them some those days, as well as we enjoy a bit of cheering these .days. They didn't think they wanted to live in Missouri, so moved on out to Kansas in December that year and took a claim on Christmas Day. They told of many hardships they endured there in those early days of Kansas settling. Pa bought boards at a saw mill--native cotton wood boards a foot wide and 12 foot long at $1.00 a board, and then had to wait his turn, for others were wanting to build their own homes. After their house was built, those boards warped and left cracks an inch or so wide. Not so comfortable as our homes of today, was it? Pa often said, "I'd leave a track to the fireplace in the frost when I went to build a fire in the morning." The grass grew very tall those days, and he was soon lost to Ma's sight when he'd ride off on horse-back.

Emma was born May 2, 1868 and when she was little Pa took care of her and Ma, going out to plow 3 rounds and then coming in to see if anything was needed. Often Ma would say "No, I don't need anything, only just my baby." Then Pa would go on back to his plowing. When Emma was six weeks old, Pa went to Ft. Scott to haul a load of freight. In those days there were no railroads, and groceries, dry goods, and what implements they had, had to be hauled in over the prairies by means of the wagon. I remember a great big wagon Pa had used before I was old enough to remember much. It stood for years out in the yard-great wide tires, and built to haul heavy loads. We called it the old Santa Fe. They used to fill it with corn and feed the hogs from it. When pa got to Ft. Scott, he was disappointed in not getting his load to haul, so rather than go back with an empty wagon, he went on to Kansas City, where he got a load. Somehow, he met with more trouble than he had reckoned on--I believe it was high water that kept him back.

Anyway it was three long weeks that he was gone, and Ma and Emma and a dog were alone. She was fortunate in having a neighbor not so very far away--perhaps a quarter of a mile from their house, so they were there if Ma had needed help. In those early days the indians were not as friendly as they are today, and one day later on, as she was about her work, a red man put his head in at the window and said "How?" Was Ma frightened? Whew, I guess so. However, he merely looked around the room and turned about and went away. I think Pa was out in the field at that time. Then later on, one day in October, a company of about 108 went riding by single file. Brother Ed was a small boy then, and I believe they said he sat out on a post near the road while they went riding by. In those days when a group of Indians came near, it usually meant trouble, but these were peaceable, going off on a pow-wow with some other tribe, being taken from one reservation to another.

Pa and Ma had fairly good luck in general. Ma's health was not so good, but in 1875 the grasshoppers came in great clouds to Kansas and ate crops and gardens--everything they could. Which made it hard to find living, and for quite a time they lived on salt and water cornbread, and had parched wheat or corn for coffee. Those were really hard times. After while times grew better and pa got hold of money to buy flour. Unknown by the children, Ma had biscuits ready for their meal, and got them to the table before it was known. Charley, the baby then, turned and saw for the first time what was on his plate--Ma had placed one on each plate--and plumping his little old fat hand down on it he exclaimed, "Hello, Bikket, where you been so long?" They never tired of telling that story. I guess we would have told it too, if we'd lived so hard so long. I know we were glad indeed to get back to white flour and good sugar after the World War.

Another story they loved to tell of Charlie was Pa took him on his back and started to the old Maple Grove school house to church one night and in sweet childish tones he began Boo Boo Moon! Boo boo 'tar! (beautiful moon--beautiful star) They loved to tell of Emma sitting in her little rocker at evening, and as she rocked she'd sing (I can't write it as they'd tell she'd sing it), but it was Twinkle twinkle little star, How I wonder what you are, Up above the world so high, "Ike a dima in a ky" (Like a diamond in the sky) repeating that line over and over and singing fast as her tongue could go, also rocking fast as her feet could push her. I can't just call to mind Ed's funnyism, but there was something they'd remember.

They used to call me Mamiette, and Mamie when I was little, and their funniest one about me was about a pig a neighbor was loading. I was hanging around as kids will, and when he lifted it byu the ear, I guess it squealed hard. I began dancing up and down screaming, "Et it down, Fike, et it down, it queals so" (Let it down, Frank, let it down, it squeals so.)

John was not a favorite with his teacher, and got whipped most every day and one day he came home and said "Well Pa, I didn't get a whipping today." "Whats the matter?" Pa said,"Don't know! Guess teacher's sick!" That sure tickled Pa.

I don't know whether it was Mart or John who stepped into a chicken-dob. Down he sat to look at his foot and when he'd got that close of course he could smell it and said "Mercy do! Hey 00 tink!" (Mercy Jo! How you stink) did tickle us all. There were many funny things Mart and John both said and did

I almost forgot about Bennie. He said many things and was a very dear child. One day Mr. Drollinger, our near neighbor, was down on an errand. They liked Bennie, and he liked to go up there. Some way he had permission to go home with him, but Mr. Drollinger was not ready yet to go and kept visiting with Pa and after bennie had waited quite a while he asked, "Well, Charlie, don't you think we better be going? We'll be too late for dinner." How they all laughed.

Now I'll go back to the one Day story. Mart and John were making nigger shooters out of peach tree branches and Mart was showing John how he wanted his fixed. John was more than 2 years older than Mart, and wa using the ax to cut the limbs off. He had raised the ax, and as a change in his mind of where he wanted it cut and stooping to show where he wanted the change made, got right in the way of that descending ax and it cut an ugly gash in Mart’s head. How excited we were! John turned round and roundcrying "I've killed Martie! I've killed Martie!" Had they been a little older and John a little stronger, I expect it would have been so. Pa took Martie to the doctor, old Dr. Trego. He cared for Marts head, and in a few days it had healed and was good as new.

Those days we had for a driving rig what we called a buckboard, a sort of very light buggy without a top and the floor was not tight like a wagon floor, but had the space of a slat between each slat. One day Pa and Ma had been to Humboldt in the old buckboard and Ed and Charlie were helping Mr. Finley, our neighbor across the road, to seed broom corn. They use broom corn to make brooms out of and after it has been seeded (the seeds are all scraped off by a machine) it is ready to bale and be taken to market and shipped where they want to make brooms. Some way in reaching for a fallen stock, Charlies right hand was caught in an endless chain & torn right down through the palm & out to the end of his middle finger. He started home alone, but one of the men who was helping there, Oscar Putman who worked for us but was helping Mr. Finley too, heard that Charlie was hurt & had gone alone home, was much disgusted that the man had let him go alone so he came right over. Emma was doing what she could but Oscar said to split a plug of Pa's tobacco & soak it in hot water & put it in his hand. He helped her, then got on an old Texas bronco we had & went to meet Pa & Ma and hurry them up. They were about one and one half miles from home. Ma laughed herself later about how she begged Pa to let her git out and run home. But Pa liked at any time to drive fast & I know that team was going home FAST. Pa had sent Oscar right back after Dr. Trego & he got there soon after Pa and Ma came. But you must remember those were the old horse & buggy days. We had no cars, & the horse had to be harnessed & hooked to the buggy before you went

While Dr. Trego was working with Charlies hand every thing went black before Ma & she thought she would faint. However she did not. Charlies hand healed but his finger was drawn up crooked. He's suffered many a hurt with the hard scar down through his hand. But it didn't keep him long out of work. He soon was helping again. As many times I have seen him writing & twisting because of the pain when he'd bruised it on a pitch fork handle or like implement only to wait till the worst hurt was over & go to work again.

I have been asked many times "Was your father in the Civil War?" No, nature deprived Pa of that duty - or privilege, as you may call it. About six weeks before Pa's birth, his mother was chasing an unruly cow and stepped into a hole that threw her ankle in a bad strain or sprain - and when Pa was born his little right foot (the same his mother had hurt) was twisted, and he never could walk as other boys and girls, always with a bad limp. One leg was shorter, and when he was about twenty-one he had an operation on his foot and they cut the cord a little too far so the muscle on the calf of his leg dwindled away and there was
little muscle there. Leg was just about straight from just below the knee to his ankle. His mother was called to her eternal home when he was five and his father remarried - but did not live long with his second wife. There were three children; Julia, Emily and Andrew (pa). When he was 8 or 9 years old he was bound out to another man to work for his board and keep. He didn't have a happy childhood.

I've heard him tell of different experiences that we'd call hard. During harvest he was often used as errand boy - the others would stop to rest and he'd be sent for cool water. No rest for Andrew. Although he had little time in school, he had read good things and was really quite a scholar. At school he was usually nicknamed Pegleg or Santa Anna and made to run the gauntlet. The boys lined up and he had to run down the line, each one hitting him and he got so he'd catch the last one and since by that time he'd be quite mad he'd give him all that he was able to.

Their desks those days were made of a split log - hewn down - also their seats. And often their reader was the Bible. Pa was a pretty good Bible student. He studied what they called the old blue backed speller and was good too. He used to tell us children of one story. I think it came from his speller. A bad boy was caught by an old man, the owner, in an apple tree.--The old man tried to persuade him to come down, to no avail. Then he said "If kind words and gentle means will not re-claim the wicked, they must be dealt with in a more severe manner. "_Then the old man pelted him with rocks and he was glad enough to come down. Pa used to drawl that part--"if kind words," etc., like they had read it, and how we liked that! He was a great reader and always used to subscribe for the Youth's Companion for us children, and Mama used to read the stories aloud to us, especially through the winter.

While Pa was reading Robinson Cruesoe to us one night, somebody heard a noise at the door. Supposing it to be a neighbor, Ma said "Open the door, Ed." He happened to be sitting nearest the door. It was a stray cat and when the light fell on it, it sprang into the room yowling, and it raced around back of the chairs--sprang up on the wall, and as Pa had been in an exciting part of the story, we kids set up such an uproar. a time as we had for a couple of minutes! The cat made the
of the room and sprang out into the night. We soon settled and Pa went on with his reading.

Often there would be literaries during the winter, and part of the evening would be given over to debate and part to speaking, singing etc. Usually they would publish a paper and local talent was given a chance. Many were the jokes brought to light by means of those papers. George Welch taught our school two winters, and was an exceptionally good teacher, and neighbor as well. He taught singing in the school--not just the verses, but began with the notes, and had the scholars learn to read music and different markings. He did not give a lot of time to this, just a few moments each morning and noon. But it was done in a business-like way and very good for us. One day he asked Pa (when Pa could not enlist as a soldier, he went to work in a gun shop and made guns.) "Beeman, I never could understand how they made gun barrels." "Why," said Pa, "they take a long round hole and pour the melted metal around it." Soon after, as Pa was shooting at something, the gun kicked him pretty badly. Welch heard of it and did he roast Pa in the next literary paper.

About four miles from our house lived a family named Ives. There were two girls, named Mary and Sarah. pa stopped there one day and Sarah (about four years old) was telling him that they had some puppies. "How many, Sarah?"asked Pa. "Well, there's two lots of four, and one over."

Many years later, on Pa's 80th birthday, his friends gave him a postcard shower, and Sarah, a grown woman, heard of it and sent him a card, I believe it was from Arkansas, saying she remembered with much pleasure the fine rides he used to take them across the prairies, and how she loved to hear the ponies feet clatter over the road. We don't always know just what it does mean to add to anothers pleasure. Pa liked to tell of when his little sister Julia was out watching an old hen and her chicks on a cold rainy day. The old hen was not content any place she went, so the chicks were wet and peeping miserably. Julia got a stick and was hitting at the old hen fiercely, when someone asked what was the matter. "Tommy ol' hen, won't let a 'ittle chicky suck." (torment the ol hen)

Fruit was scarce, but there were elderberries, a big bush out south of the house. Ma had made elderberry pie, and at dinner Ed began complaining about the little stems in his piece. "Oh, they are all right, eat them, they are good--I like 'em." Pa said. Soon Ed came up to pa with some of the stems in his hand and said, "Here, Pa, you eat 'em--you like 'em, I don't."

As I remember, the spring following, Lum and Frank Howard moved up from Morehead and stayed a few days with us. Lum was
Ma's sister Jane's boy. Lum helped with the spring planting, then got work in Humboldt. I believe his first job was with the A. A. Jones Elevator Co. I know he worked for Jones a long time, and I believe that was his first work in Humboldt. The came to see us often, and how good the old chicken & dumpling dinner tasted. We most always had dried corn for Sunday dinner, and wasn't that good! Dinner was not finished in a hurry.

On one of the folk's anniversaries, they had a surprise on them. As I remember, Mrs. Jay gave them a nice white bowl, which I had until about the time I left Humboldt, but it was badly cracked, and I let it go. Why I remember that party so well was Bert Jan and I were out on the teeter-totter board at school that day and he asked me if I knew about the anniversary, and I asked him what about that, and he said I asked you about the Universite, and gave the board a quick hard jerk and I fell to the ground. It was a long plank off the old school house porch and he was down at the ground. I was about two years old then. That was the spring of the cyclone that took the old school house. They were building a new school house, and had the foundation taken out from under the old one in places--just left enough to hold the old house steady, for we still went to school there at that time. On April 23 or 24, about 6 o'clock a black cloud came up from the south west. The first damage it done was to move the Cottage Grove church a few inches and take off a few shingles. The next was to lift the Bruenger house, but it left the floor, and Mrs. Bruenger and Ed were on the bed--Ed was a tiny baby. Broke up the house, but they were not hurt. It then swung merrily on out our way, coming down a hedge row (fence).It looked as tho headed for us; Ed wanted to run one way. Pa the other, but Pa said--"wait a little and see which way it's going." Then it swung over to the school house and lifted the old one, moving the new one a few inches and taking a patch of shingles off of one corner but smashing the old one, as Ma said, "like an egg shell." It didn't tear the boards around a lot, just smashed the building and left it, going across Mr. Finley's pasture it left a mark like a cattle path. When it got on east about 5 or 6 miles, its path lay thru a pond and as it sucked the water out of that it looked so black, like a monster gooses neck. Ma often remarked that we could have held a candle (lighted) out in the yard while that fierce storm was just a 1/2 mile away. How people react to excitement--I don't know what I did do, only just go with the rest, and I expect I cried. Charley had Bennie, and Bennie commenced to cry and Charlie threw a coat over his head. How he did cry and scream then. Pa told Charley to take it off and Bennie quieted better when he could see. Not all cyclones look just as this one did, I am told. There was a real light streak down thru the center of the cloud, and on each side the dark clouds rolled up as tho trying to pass that streak, but not able to, so run on to the back end where they seemed fashioned like a funnel with eh larder end toward the ground. That changed in size and lifted at times, or they say--I can't really remember if that one did or not. While I lived for 60 years in Oklahoma and Kansas, that was the only cyclone I ever saw--tho thought that one passed over our home in Oklahoma one night as we were just getting ready to eat supper. We were living in a log house and the logs in the walls just seemed to be all shaking--quite frightening, to only lasted a little minute. It damaged a house about 3/4 of a mile south of ours. We were living on the Nichols place.

I was always sent to play with the three younger boys, and then afterwards it was told that I wasn't much help(?) Reckon? I know I was often put to washing the dishes and as Ma and we girls had papered the kitchen with newspapers and many were Youths Companions, I liked to read better than to was dishes, and would fool along till --was it by accident or some means I'd finally get done. But in the meantime I'd read everything my eyes could reach. Ma took to turning the papers upside down, and I soon learned to read about as fast upside down as right side up. Many times when Pa has come into the house and found me reading some thing not as good as he'd think I should read, trash, he'd say, "Why will you pick up chips, when there are so many nice apples lying around." I see where Pa was right now--in fact, I think I did then.

Children, there are many more stories--I'll write later. So good-bye,

With love.
From Grandma Dear Grandchildren:

It's been many days since I wrote about my people to you, and much water has passed under the bridge--maybe torn the bridge away, who knows? But still, time goes on.

I'm thinking this morning of my little brother Bennie. Bennie died when he was 8 years 1 mo. and 20 days old. A very bright lovable boy. He was the only baby of our family bottlefed. Ma was not able to supply sufficient milk to satisfy him, so she was trying to supply his needs by means of bread and sugar put into a little cloth and tied to make what is called a sugartit. Pa found out what was going on, and he went to town and bought a nursing bottle--a crooked neck affair, with one side flat and a tiny tube about 3/8 of an inch thru which he drew the milk to the nipple. It was my task often to wash and clean that bottle, and I shudder to think of how that childs bottle was neglected. I was but an 8 or 9 year old girl--to young to be given such a responsibility. Often the milk was left to clabber, and then wash it out with soda in the water with a brush. I don't remember of ever scalding it--perhaps I did, for I was particular about her dishes.

Bennie loved to read, and we had a Bible-Story book with many large pictures in it, and the print was quite coarse. Bennie began to read that book thru on Thanksgiving Day, and would sit for hours reading that, and when evening chore time came, we never could tell where the book was put--but he'd slip out and get his wood and chips brought in, or cobs which we sometimes used--he never failed in that. But was right back at his reading again. It was a 408 page book, and he only 7 years old, but he'd read it all through in one week. Some of it he'd committed to memory. It was after he'd finished with it that we found out he would slip it under the sewing machine treadle to keep brother Marty from getting it.

While he was sick, he was first taken with chills and fever, which turned into malaria, then he was taken away with cerebral spinal meningitis. Lying for his last week in a sleep, with large spots of red appearing on his flesh to change to other places, but not to leave entirely. Many little incidents come crowding to mind in regards to those last days. I'll not tell many of them, but one day we'd had chicken for dinner, and somebody would always have to make their wish and break the wishbone. Pa and Bennie broke it together, and when Pa got the big end, Bennie wearily turned away--"I'm not going to wish that wish any more-- I never get it... "What did you wish, Bennie?" Pa asked. "0, I wished I'd get well." he answered. Pa said, "I did, too." Those were dark days--even tho the sun shone brightly. He passed quietly Nov. 14, 1890. A few days before his passing, Mrs Behrenbringer and her sisters, Mrs. Heims, came to sit up with him. We were sitting around after supper and they insisted that we go to bed and they will care for Bennie. Mrs. Heims asked Ma if Bennie had been baptized and Ma said No. You see, we protestants have different ideas of baptism. They (Catholics) have an idea that even babes are lost in hell if not baptized, so to save my little brother those women using our wash basin to hold the water and they baptized him in the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost. Our faith is that just sprinkling water over a person is not enough--Repent and be baptized is the command, and how could Bennie know--or was he still conscious of our doings--even tho seem only sleeping? We will never know. But I only feel like honoring those woman who, to satisfy their conscience did that deed for Christ's sake. We feel Christ's blood was protecting
Bennie, and he really was a fine little boy. Well, he's in the Father's care.

At school, we used to give recitations on Friday afternoons. One day he gave this, or it more likely was for a program–

I wish today that I could be
My grandma's old gray cat.
I suppose you think it very strange
That I should talk like that

But today is speaking day at school,
And I've a piece to say.
It's all about a butterfly
Who hurt its wing some way.

I fear that I'll forget the words
Just when my name is called.
(I forget the last 2 lines of this verse)

I spoke my piece and did not miss
Nor was I much afraid.
The people clapped their hands for me
And then the music played.

Papa looked glad and Mama all smiles
And my heart went pit-a-pat
And now I'm glad enough
I'm not My grandma's old gray cat.

Then he started off the stage, but returned to say-

Oh yes, I forgot to say
They don't have things to eat
When people go to visit school-
They just sit on a seat.

In the story it runs somewhere about the teacher "maybe she's going to have a coffee or a tea" but I've lost the lines of that--which explains the last verse. We thought it quite clever of him, since he'd not bee thrilled to start to leave, then return.

It may be many more days before I start the old printing
press to work again.


Andrew Martin Beeman and Lydia Ann Pomeroy were married March 18, 1867 in Ontario, N. Y. and the next day they started West. As I recall--you know, the stories they have told me. So if I make mistakes, remember--I am just an ordinary woman. And while I'll try to tell it as nearly right as I can, still I'm human.

Pa was 33 when he married, and Ma 27. They rode a train to Canton, Illinois and at that place Pa bought a team and wagon, in which they moved on to Missouri. I've never known just near what town, but they farmed one summer in Mo. then started on to Kansas, landing on the old homestead on Christmas day, 1867. It was raw land at that time, and I've often heard Ma say Pa would get onto a horse and the grass was so tall he'd be completely hidden in just a few minutes ride from the wagon. They lived in the covered wagon until Pa could get enough lumber to build a little 12 x 12 shack. He paid $1.00 a board, 12 feet long and 12 inches wide.
He had to wait his turn. It was cotton wood and soon after the building was made, huge cracks appeared in the walls.

Snow fell thru the cracks, and Pa would leave his foot prints in the snow when he went to build a fire. I've a faint recollection that they first had a fireplace, but it had been done away with before I was old enough to remember. Pa battened the cracks with thin, 3-inch boards. I was married in that room. I recall their telling of having boxes for chairs, and I don't know what they had for bed or table at first. I know Pa done much freighting. He left Ma with a 3-weeks old baby, and Ma lived by herself with an old dog for company. You will recall this was 1868 in the spring and when Pa got to Ft. Scott he did not get the freight he was expecting, but had to go on to Kansas City. No bridges over some streams and high water made his trip more difficult. On one of his freighting trips he was camped for the night, when a young man rode up and asked could he share the camp with him. Pa consented and went about preparing for the night, went up into his wagon to prepare his bed, and while busily engaged, the young man ran up the wagon tongue, with his hand on his upper left hand pocket. Just as he got to the top of the wagon tongue, a loaded wagon struck a rock on top of a hill, quietly the young man turned and as he went down said, "I believe we are going to have company." Pa believed he had a gun and was going to make away with Pa and take the team and freight.

A few days later Pa saw a picture of the same man he believed, and he was named Cole Younger. Later Pa found his ax hidden in some brush and some other implement he might have defended himself with was hidden too. He slept but little that night, and early next a.m. was on his way again. Cole Younger was a member of the Jesse James gang. Bakers lived a short distance from their home, and I gather that Jake, a youngster of 10 or thereabouts, came down some times to offer help. I don't know too much about the Bakers, but they disposed of that place to Grandma Palmer who lived there with a son Mike. Mike was not an over bright man--and I know I was afraid of him. I think he liked to frighten little girls like me. A little joke the folks enjoyed was one Brother Charlie said; Catherine Baker was one of the Baker girls, and Charlie said "There's lots of kinds of rinds, ain't there--there's Catherine, tater rinds, and lemon rinds." How our folks laughed at that. One morning Charlie was slow in dressing and Ma said "Charlie, why don't you get dressed?" one leg of his pants was wrong side out and he said "I'm trying to get on the other side of these pants. And I still recall that one day a family named Millers cam and they had a little girl named Lucy. Charley, aged three, loved Lucy and said he'd like to have a sister too. Mrs. M. said he must pray for one, and they found him in a shed room, down on his knees praying for a "sisser baby". A few days later I came.


I was born about 3 O'clock on a Sunday morning--a frosty morning. Pa drove a team of oxen over across the fields to the Henry Rhoels place. Marshalls lived there and he went for Mrs. Marshall to care for Ma. Dr. Dornberg officiated. It was Oct. 31, 1875.

When I first thought to write this I recalled how Ollie Gerall had written the names of all of her pupils. But I recall a family of Beckerbreds, who lived on the farm McCormicks own now. Savings bought of them. Jahnke owned the farm Mittendorfs owned when we lived back there. John Jays owned the place where Bro. Charley lived. A family named Thornton lived there one year and as I was going to school one morning I say their house burn up. How frightening it is to watch a house burn.

I recall, tho I don't know just how old I was, but the Maple Grove church was built in 1880 and I remember going into the old school house to Sunday School and the Moore and Ellis Young People were singing "What will the harvest be?" and I think Nora Moore was playing Mrs. Moores organ. I recall being at the Maple Grove church when it was dedicated, I guess that was that. They had a big dinner.

Dick Redfield taught a term of singing lessons in the church and John Jay was sick one time we met, and lay upon a bench. Next we heard he had measles. Emma took them from him, and then we all had them. Dick Redfield taught, at the Maple Grove school house, a term of Writing lessons, with a $1.00 prize for the one who made the most improvement and also the best scribe. Emma got the prize as the best scribe and Bro. Ed got the one for most improvement. It was a pretty close race to see which would beat, Emma or Ed, for the best scribe prize--only 7 letters gave it to Emma. Later Dick taught a term of Book Keeping. He was teaching a singing school down at Cottage Grove when he got married and he always brought his violin to sing by and one night he forgot it and the boys (youngsters) took the violin out of the case, replacing it with a big rag doll--which didn't please Dick too well.

One night Charlie Dwinnell went home with John Jay to say over night. The boys had a jolly time till time to go to bed. Both wanted to sleep on the front side of the bed and Charlie got it first. Then John was ready to get into bed he said to charlie, "Layover or go home." Charlie went home! Charlies's mother had married another man (Mershon) Charlie was her son and they lived just south of the McCormick place and she surely had many flowers and so beautiful. Meant much to me. Mrs. Wicks also raised many flowers, and so often brought big bunches of snap dragons to church and I thought the odor was so precious. I always got a whiff of it when she came in.

One day Mrs. Jay was visiting at our home and they noticed a big dark cloud coming up, and soon grasshoppers began to light all around, which was their cloud. Grasshoppers lit on everthing and just soon cleaned out all green stuff. I don't recall anything about this, but Brother Martie tells of pa having thrown a vest or jacket down and they crawled over it, eating it and Pa had $500.00 in bank notes in the pocket and they had ruined the money so badly that he had to take it to S.A. Browns Bank and have it reclaimed. The year I was born was grasshopper year, and Pa put a mortgage of $500 dollars on the home. Ma said they lived on salt and water corn bread after that, and after some time Pa got hold of money to buy a sack of flour, and she had a batch of biscuits made before the children knew about it, and Pa laid a biscuit on each plate and Charlie, turning, saw his, and plumping his little old hand down on it said, "hello, bikket! Where you been so long?" Indians camped over on the banks of Coal Creek, and when they started away brother Ed sat on a post out by the road and watched them, 104, each riding a pony and one back of the other. I guess it must have been about this time that Ma was working in the house one day and the room turned dark and she turned to see an Indian's head in the window. He just said How? and left--but no sooner than she wished him to. One day Brother Martie was little and wearing dresses, as all little boys did at that time, and he'd learned Hickory Dickory Dock, Mouse ran up the clock--tho he could not say it that way. He would say "Dickry dock, mouse clock" and run across the room and repeat it. Soon Ma notice he'd stopped running, and turned to see why, and his feet had slipped and his dress had caught on the door hinge and he was hung there, his face quite black. She quickly rescued him.

When Pa was near 50, two families had moved into our community, Sam Jones and Hamilton Benight. Sam and Mrs. Benight were brother and sister and all lively and many parties were held. Soon after their coming, on Pa's 50th birthday, they came to our home and surprised Pa and what lovely cakes and good eats were there. One cake, specially nice, Pa must cut--his birthday, you know. Pa put his knife on the center of the cake and pushing down, it didn't give, and he said "fraud"--yesin it was cotton covered with batter and frosting and candies. We had lots of fun.

Along about the time Pa was 50, he bought a lot of apple trees. The agent asked, well, what will you order? "50 Missouri Pippins". Then, "what next?" "50 Missouri Pippins." and he ordered 150 Missouri Pippin apple trees. But by some chance an early June was in the bunch. Pa said, "Children, I'm planting these for you--I don't expect to ever live to eat of them." But Pa outlived that orchard. They came into bearing and were all gone but one or two trees when Pa was gone. He lived to be 84 and from March 8 to October. Dr. had said he might last 6 weeks-he lasted 18 months.

Brother Bennie was quite a hand to follow around after Pa. And if Pa would ask "Where is my hammer?" or whatever he needed, usually Bennie would hand it to him. It was a great pleasure for Bennie to sit on the ground and slowly move the old stock cutter round--it mad such a 'delicious' squeak and he'd enjoy it a long time. I can see him sitting there with his little ole gray hat, yet!

One winter we heard of a spelling school to be at the scotland school house. Pa took the sled-(It was a good coat of snow on the ground & Lide & Dosha Palmer Bert Jay & I guess about 5 of us Beeman kids went over, but the spelling school had been post poned. We sure had a pleasant ride & went calling on the Lou Libby Family. Lou had made his home for some time at our home. He had married & had children at that time.

Every winter we used to hold literary in our school house & many good programs were held there. Sometimes there would be debates before recess then sometimes spelling matches--sometimes programs at one time a critic was selected to criticize mistakes made & he made one himself which gave Ike Tibbetts the opportunity of suggesting a critic be appointed to criticize the critic who criticizes.

In those days no movie pictures but home talent gave us many happy times. It was 4 years yesterday we moved to this apartment. A little more than 4 months there Daddy was called. 0 yes, I guess I should say I'm lonely at times, but I usually keep myself occupied with either reading, writing, sewing, & often in good weather I go to see some shut ins. Radio does good. Not a very exciting life--tho not as dull as one might suppose. Especially when folks ans. my letters, which I'm always hoping will be coming.

Not long ago Mr. Merwin, our teacher when I was 7 celebrated his 100th birthday.

At one time I don't just recall who was teaching but either Mr. Hamilton or Mr. Goodwin, but it was a ruling that each Fri. p.m. after the last recess, we were to recite selections.

Jim Byrum decided he was not going to read. Teacher decided differently & when Jim came back again--teacher picked up a big stove poker & Jim went to the front & said-

"Was a rat ran up the wall
I saw his tail & that was all."

But he'd given a recitation.

Seven children were born into my fathers & mothers family. All are gone but Bro. Martie and myself. We haven't heard from John only in a round about way for some time. Bro. Ed was called something like 7 years ago & we heard John had gone to see the children in Texas after that--but he never writes so we don't know. Emma passed something like 5 years in May. Charlie, two years Feb 13, I believe.
Bennie passed away when he was 6 years 1 mono & 19 days.

As for the E. L. Baggett family all 10 children which were born to us are living, 34 grand children, 11 great grands- & 9 Grand in laws makes 74 of my group living. Not a divorce in the group for which I am indeed grateful. And I'm really proud to head such a gang. Inlaws & outlaws, we are 75, not 74.

Soon after the folks landed Pa went to coal creek and got branches off silver maple & of cotton wood, which he stuck into the ground back of the home. These grew & made big trees. I believe they have, like the old orchards been taken away, perhaps used as wood. The year before we were married, (Daddy & I were married Oct. 12, 1897) I gathered up a bunch of black walnut trees, little ones from a pile of walnuts gathered for our pleasure, & planted them about the farm. Since, I've been quite sorry I'd not planted them all in one plat, so they could have been cultivated and by this time would likely have been of much value. Five of those little trees went in front of the yard, but as they were in the way when Pa wanted to grade his lawn after the new house was built, he dug them up and laid them down beside the road. The wind was strong and in the south for a week, and those roots exposed to it. Pa said, "Mary planted those trees, I'll have to set them out." He dug deep holes, getting down into them and straightening the roots, drawing the dirt around the roots well and carried much water for each. Each tree grew (this was in October), he'd cared so well for them. Then brother Charlie bought the farm, the trees were bearing and the nuts in the way, so Charlie had them cut down. They were planted beside the lane leading into the yard.

Pa passed away Oct. 19, 1917 and Ma passed November 17, 1929.

The night before Ma died, she sang-

My latest sun is sinking fast,
My race is nearly run;
My strongest trials now are past,
My triumph is begun.
Oh come, angel band,
Come and around me stand,
Oh bear me away on your snowy wings
to my immortal home.

It seems prophetic. She was gone the next evening. Ma was 91 on Sept. 23, 1929.

I can't send this without more being told of the Gerall. I never shook hands with Mr. Gerall, that he did not say "God bless you" or "Be faithful, Mary." And many times after we were living in Oklahoma, where we moved after Daddy and I were married, he'd say to Ma, "Tell Mary I send my blessing," and once "Tell Mary I'll never forget her at the throne of grace." Ollie was a very good friend and took me to many teachers meetings. She asked me, when I was about 11 years old, "Mary, why don't you come to Sunday School?" I got to going, and it's still my habit.

Often as I beat divinity or some other food, I can hear old Grandma Aby saying as Lottie was preparing her cake--"Now Lottie, bet it like tunder." No I did not stand there, but I've heard it oft repeated ant it's not died as it came to me. I did hear her say, many years ago, "Mary, you are not too young to give your heart to Christ". You did not know that, did you? And at our quilting parties I used to sit there beside Aunt Nan Palmer, who was known to be the best quilter of our group. Why? Why compare my poor work by her fine work? For just that reason--I'd try harder to be a good quilter beside a good one than to be by a careless one.

Uncle Enoch married your father and mother (Uncle Charlie and Aunt Nettie) and Daddy and I stood up with them. Your grandparents lived on the Hobart place and such a fearful snow storm came up, as we went to the wedding. Emma was at the wedding and left soon after dinner. She was teaching school at Centre Grove. She was in a cart and stopped at Mr. Jewells, where she had a standing invitation to stay on stormy nights. I stayed at Eds home and next day he took me home.

I see I've left Pan and Ma and their brood in that little old shack. Well they didn't live that way all the time. I've no idea when more room was added, but a comfortable 12x 12 room with a loft was added and a kitchen with a dirt floor which was repeatedly threatened to have a board floor put down, but it never got down. Pa paid off the mortgage the year I was 16, and then two years after I was married he erected a nice 6 room house. Soon after the birds had all flown from the nest and he and Ma were left alone. No, not alone, for Vina Mose had left a young girl and her guardian had Pa and Ma take her in their home. That old home was shall I say protected through many a storm and I and the rest of our family stood and watched the cyclone tear the old school house to pieces, or as Ma expressed it, it was crushed like an eggshell. It was oft repeated one could have held a lighted candle out in our yard while the storm tore that school house to pieces. Uncle Dave Byrum bought the old material of the school house and said "If I'd have known how good that was, I'd not have voted for the new." But Somebody Else must have wanted that new building to stay, tho it was moved on its foundation and a few shingles ripped off, it was left for our benefit.

Why was Dist. No.30 named Maple Grove? The only reason I can give was a small grove of silver maples over on my fathers
farm across the corner from the school, which I believe has since been destroyed.

You say the county plans on holding its Centennial in June. Knowing that Home coming week has, for a number of years been held during the week of Sept. 20, I'd planned to be in the community for homecoming at Maple Grove. I know threes a lot of sadness in store for me, but I also knew when we first began that so many loved mates had gone on then and more have followed. I know I'll miss my own--besides Tom Byrum, Artie, Nettie and the Geralls and others, as she says they are not able to go any more-and the old school verse comes often to mind-

All are scattered now and fled,
Some are married, some are dead
And when I ask with throbs of pain,
When shall we all meet again?
As in the days long since gone by,
The ancient time piece makes reply
Never, forever--Forever, never.

My fathers mother was chasing a cow about six weeks before Pa was born, and she stepped into a chuck hole and twisted her ankle. When Pa was born his little foot was twisted too. He always limped, and when he was a small boy, about 5 years old, his mother died. She was mother of 5 children, two sons died in early infancy. His oldest sister Julia married and had 3 sons-her husband William Cobb and youngest son Charlie came to Kansas and visited at our home for a short time. Pas youngest sister Emily married Ira Allen and they had 7 children. A daughter Jessie, came to call on me here in Everett--never saw nor heard of her since. Not much for kinsfolks and said the most she knew of her father was, he was someone to keep away from. Not much like many fathers. My father was very lovable, I thought--though I knew when he spoke, he meant business.

In early fall, Pa and sometimes others, would go out to Hepler, Kansas and get a supply of coal to do thru the winter. We would up extra early and what a rustling there'd be till they were off. Two or three wagons from our home, Pa, Ed and Charlie, each with a team and wagon. Would take a day to go, and a day to load, and a day to come home. How anxiously we'd wait for their return. Emma would usually say "They are up by the Byrum or Benight place, I heard the wagon chuck against a rock." And soon we'd see the teams coming past the Eastgate corner. Always so glad to get home and I've often heard Pa say "Gh, the horses know when we are nearing home, they stepped out so much livelier." It was about 2 miles from our home to Byrums. How clear the air was back in Kansas! How often we could hear the ears of corn hit the throw board when the men were shucking corn, across the section. Charlie and Bert Jay used to shuck corn for Mr. Hottenstien, who always got them out before daylight, and Bert would get on the wagon wheel and crow for delight. Boys were boys then. Mr. Hottenstein was building a barn and gave a barn raising. We all went, and what a crowd of everybody'and what a dinner! chicken galore!

One night long long ago, I often recall hearing Mr. Hottenstein praying down on his knees, very earnestly and one sentence I never forgot--"Remembering that for every idle word, we must render a strict account." He was in the back part of the church, only a few of us there and the church was dimly lighted.

Uncle Jeff Myer loved to debate, and one expression use to amuse us younger ones-- "Sirs, I tell you" he'd often repeat in his debate. He liked to recite Will Carleton's poems--one,"Betsey and I are out" and "The church organ." Likewise he sang this song-

When a youngster at home, I vowed I'd ne'er roam
And oft of that vow I have thought
The advice give me at myoId mother's knee
To my memory has often been brought.
When I was a lad, A quarrel I had,
With my brother one morning at play;
I struck him a blow, My anger to show,
When my mother unto me did say:
Oh, forgive and forget, The troubles you have met,
Although it has caused you both pain.
I'll not happy be Till I stand here and see
You'll be friends with your brother again."

Now he thought me the worst, And he would not be
Which filled me with grief and with pain.
He left home that day And for years stayed away
Till in sorrow I met him again.
I next saw him lie upon his death bed
The end was quite near, it was plain
Tho feeble and week, He managed to speak,
Be friends with your brother again.

Oh, how vary absurd, That for one little word
The dearest and best friends must part.
And we all know quite well, Threes no one can tell
The sorrow that lies in the heart.
Then while we're to like, Lets forget and forgive
Altho it has caused us all pain
Abroad or at home, Where e'er we may roam,
Lets be friends all together again.

Emma was a school teacher for a number of years and finally married Jake Mueller, Sept. 6, 1906. Brother Martie married Eva
Myers, don't believe I ever knew the date or year. They had four children, and I don't know what year Eva died. Martie gave Emma his two younger boys, M.O and Bobbie. M.O. left home and finally married and lives in Portland, they have a girl, Loretta Ann, and son Kenneth. She always sends me a Christmas card and note.

Emma passed away in May. Brother Ed married Lue Shomaker. I think they had 10 children. He and Lue separated and she took the. younger five children and went to California, where she still lives. I hear from her often. Their oldest son Milo is a Baptist minister and is married. Paul lives near Lue. Lue's address is 630 Laurel St, Vallejo, Cal. Her youngest son, Billie, is a lawyer. I know but little about them--our paths lay along different routes. I guess you can supply the most of the rest. I planned to teach school, but married Ed instead. Spent 20 years in Oklahoma, came back to Kansas in 1919. Lived there 16 years, came west in 1936.


Ma used to sing this old song:


The wilderness was our abode Full 40 years ago.
When sweetmeats we used to eat, we caught the buck and doe.
For fish we used the hook & line, We pounded corn to make it fine On Johnny-cake our ladies dined In this new Country.

We lived in social harmony, We drank the purling stream;
No lawyer priest nor doctor there was scarcely to be seen.
Our health it needed no repair, No pious man forgot his prayer No Lawyer fees we scarce could pay, In this new Country.

Of deer skins we made moccasins To wear upon our feet;
A striped shirt was thought no hurt Good company to keep.
And when a visit we used to pay All on a winters night or day, The oxen drew our ladies sleigh In this new Country.

Our paths were winding thru' the wood, Where once the savage trod

They were not wide, nor safe a guide, They were all the ones we had.
Our houses, too, were logs of wood, Built up in forn and corked with mud

If the bark was tight our house was good In this new Country.

The little trees bore apples when the mandrakes they were gone; The sour grape we used to take, when the frosty nights came on For butter-nuts boys climbed the trees, For wintergreens the girls did stray
The ebony root was dug for tea, In this new Country.

Our music it was in the night, For loud the wolves would howl; And often times were put to flight, By the hooting of the owl. The mosquitoes they disturbed our joys, They left the bed and made no noise, The nettles made the lively boys, in this new Country. [This letter was written for Dorothy Brinkman to be used in the Allen County Centennial in June, 1955.]


Mary E. Baggett
302 Hollister S.E
Grand Rapids Mich.

Sept. 29, 1941

Mrs. Mary Baggett

Dear Cousin,

Your letter of the 17th to my brother George Pomeroy was handed to me for reply.

We as a family are all glad to hear from you with so interesting account of your children. Grandpa pomeroys' name was Chauncey. Born in York State and died at Kalamazoo, Mich. of smallpox which he had contracted by plowing a field near a pest house. In the summer of 1935 I took a course of study at Mich. University Ann Arbor. There in the Library Gay Welgus, a young Librarian, noticed my name and introduced herself saying her mothers maiden name was Julia Pomeroy Welgus and told me her mother would like to get in touch with me. So later I went to tea served on the back veranda of an old stone mansion over looking a lovely garden. Mr. Welgus came from the University where he had been instructor in the law school for 30 years. Mrs. Welgus was most charming. Her father Calvin Pomeroy had come out from Mass. years ago and had lived to be 96. His photo showed a fine old gentleman with whiskers and the Pomeroy forehead. Their house was full of Pomeroy antiques and after my course was over I spent a month there and used to sit in the hand carved Lucy Pomeroy chair sent from England in 1787. Well that first day I stayed to dinner and out came the large book blue covered and labeled "Pomeroy" in gilt letters. Glancing through it I found interesting photos of the 3 early Pomeroys, Eltweed and two others. read the names of Chauncey, William, George and Henry many times. In fact all the pomeroys I had heard of in my child hood and it seemed like a voice from the past. There were pictures of Pomeroy Castle, Devonshire, Eng. In fact I brought two cards home.

Mrs. Welgus, who used to live in Palmyra, N.Y. near our pomeroys of Honeoye (?) Falls, told of visiting the Berry Pomeroy Castle in Eng. many times when Mr. and Mrs. Welgus and Gay were there on sabbatical leave from the University. She told of the pomeroys and of their Characteristics. One was a Kings Messenger and fled to France. They were gunsmiths among them and a Pomeroy spiked the enemies guns and helped win a battle. The pomeroyColts of Mass. came on down to Gun and Rifle manufacturers (The Colt Works.) pomeroys go back to Wm the Conqueror and in the Clements Rare Book Library in Ann Arbor I found them listed in an old Tome or hand painted atlas. This was in Devon and gave the crest. A youn lion with an apple in its mouth. You know Pomeroy means Wine King. Pome for wine and Lion for King of Beasts. Roy means king in French.


I also found the names of Fannie, Emma Lillian Florence, Deborah, Julia and others. There is a Pomeroy in Indianapolis, prominent lawyer who wrote a set of law books on equity. This is a very useful writing as most lawyers know. They run to teachers, lawyers, librarians and general culture. There are many books about the pomeroys who were bankers, and railroad owners in eastern Cities. They tell me in Manchester Mass. Providence, R.I., Conn. are old Pomeroy families. There is a large department store (pomeroys) in Harrisburg, Pa. We do not have many pomeroys here.

As children we have happy memories of Aunt Anne who came from Humboldt to visit us and we used to gather round her and sing from the "Knap Sack Song Book". Brother George has no children and has not been very well the past year. Florence is Mrs. Walter Horner, widow and Sue is Mrs Chris De Young.I am unmarried. Have been teacher and Librarian but have been occupied with (the) apartment and books at home for the past two years. Uncle Will pomeroys name was Wm Chauncey and my parents named their first born Chauncey. The two names Chauncey and Henry occur constantly through the Pomeroy book and this shows it was a name to hand down. Calvin Pomeroy came from Dorchester, Mass.

Well I have rambled to quite length. There is a prominent man in Toledo named Geo. L Pomeroy, who compiled a Pomeroy book also. If he should not be alive now you could find it through the Toledo Public Library. There are two books about pomeroys in Congressional Library but they will not let them go out
Should be pleased to hear further from you

Sincerely yours

Lillian S. Pomeroy


This photograph of the Baggett family was taken in Chanute KS in August of 1925

Back Row: Neva  age 19  Elsa, age 23, Harley age 21, Agnes age 26, Lola age 19

Front row: Cleo age 15, Edward (father) age 52, Wilma (Billie) age 8, Dorothy (Dot) age 11, Roland (Hank) age 5, Mary (mom) age 49,  Edith age 13


by Agnes

Once upon a time a little boy was born in Elm Springs, Ark., to Allen and Katie Butler Baggett on November 30, 1872. They named him Edward - called him Eddy for a while, then Ed when he grew to be a tall lanky boy. He was a handsome young man with a mustache. He grew up in the Cottage Grove district, going to school here. His folks had moved to this community when he was a small child. (Rural Humboldt Kansas)

When he was a young man he went one night to an entertainment at Maple Grove district near by. There was a dialogue given by some of the young folks and a lovely young lady had a prominent part in it. She had dark hair and brown eyes and some how Ed thought he'd like to get acquainted with her. So young men and young ladies were in those days like they have always been and still are these days. He did some thinking about it. Anyway he met her and they went together for more than a year. His folks decided to move on out to the Oklahoma territory to see if it was as wild as they heard it was. So they took Ed and his 3 sisters and 1 brother - Annie, Pearl & Earl (twins) and Winnie. By this time Ed and Mary Etta Beeman, born in Humboldt Kansas, October 31, 1875, the young lady he had been "keeping company" with had been doing some serious thinking. But Ed was ready for adventure in the "Wild West". He ran in the race in the Oklahoma Territory and "staked his claim" our toward Tulsa. But it wasn't very good looking farm land, so he sold it to some poor sucker. Years later he found they had struck oil on this "poor old rocky farm". We missed that boat, too!

The older son, Jim, and his family went along, too, and 3 little girls. Ed's folks built a little log house, fences, barns and drilled a well on a 160 acre school lease. Ed kept thinking of Mary and wrote letters to her and she kept thinking of Ed and writing letters to him. Ed had a team of horses - Old Joe & Florry - and a covered wagon and so he went back to Kansas in October 1897. They were married October 12 at Mary's home. His brother Jim and his wife Mary and their 3 daughters went in their covered wagon. Then in a few days they started back to Oklahoma. If you haven't guessed it before, this was Mr. & Mrs. Ed Baggett. Yeah, sure, our MOM AND POP!

When they got to Oklahoma there was a lovely little Honeymoon home waiting for Mary. Ed and his father and brother had dug a dugout hole in the ground 4 or 5 feet deep and about the size of a good sized room and built up the sides with logs and dobbin (a mixture of sand, lime and water). It had a fireplace at the North end and a door at the South end. He had it furnished and ready for Mary.

Ed and Mary were very happy in their little home, and a very cozy little home. It was cool in summer and warm in winter. It was down in the pasture about 2 good city blocks from Grandpa's home, down near the timber. A little crick started up just back of the dugout a little way and there was a spring back there. They carried water for their use from this spring.

The time went fast and they were very much in love. It came Spring in Oklahoma, but earlier than it does in Wisconsin. The pasture was pretty and green; blue and white daisies all about and little wild flowers called Star of Bethlehem (dainty little white flowers with pink splotches in and another one that was such a tiny blue flower, about 1 inch high.

There were Buffalo wallows scattered over the pasture where buffalo used to roll and wallow and kick up dust to chase the flies. The little blue flowers always grew in these wallows and a fine grass grew in the bottom of the puddles. (When we kids grew bigger we used to run in the pasture after a rain and wade in the puddles.)



Well time went by fast. It was January their 10 children arrived about 1 A.M. in the A.M. and early in the New Year. early much of the time since! 3, 1899, and the first of That January day. Early Guess I've never been I guess they were like most new parents, that first little baby is just about all you can think of for a while (and I guess I didn't let them forget either). They said they kept the lamp burning at night for awhile then decided we could sleep in the dark, so put out the light.
Well I woke up screaming and they got up and lit the lamp to see what was wrong. I stopped the music and was quiet. I liked the light and I've never got used to sleeping in a real dark room it scares me to death - ask Lola!

I grew and loved my home very much. Then in October of that same year we moved up with Grandpa. Grandma had died before Mama and Papa were married. Aunt Pearl, Uncle Earl and Aunt Winnie had all married and Grandpa was alone in the house at home. We lived there together with Grandpa till he died in 1908, December 14. He'd go and visit at the other homes for a while and Mama said he always was glad to be back with us. I guess he got used to us from babies up and we were more like his own family. I used to like to go to town with him or just out for a walk.

I remember when they built the railroad that went through Lela and over past the Green farm where we lived later. We crossed the R.R. on the way to school, you older kids will remember. One day when they were working on the R.R. along just West of Jerry Campbell's place, Grandpa and Mama took Elsa and me in the old buggy and drove out there to see them at work. I remember there were colored men working and one was on the cow catcher. He was a big fat man and he was so black and his tongue was so red. It was something new for me, but as I grew older I got used to them more.

When they got to Oklahoma there was a lovely little Honeymoon home waiting for Mary. Ed and his father and brother had dug a dugout hole in the ground 4 or 5 feet deep and about the size of a good sized room and built up the sides with logs and dobbin (a mixture of sand, lime and water). It had a fireplace at the North end and a door at the South end. He had it furnished and ready for Mary.


On a pretty sunny Sunday in Oklahoma on December 22 1902, our Grandpa Baggett and I went out to take a walk around our farm home, so I remember our mother said, and after so long a time we drifted back home. There I first beheld my little pink faced sister; yes, it was Elsa. I thought she was my whole 3 years. me! She could be around, and maybe to tryout on me. about the cutest little baby I'd ever seen in But little did I think what was in store for the best, sweetest kid you could want to have before an hour was gone she was up to a stunt

Aunt Belle Renfro was at our house that day to greet Elsa, as she had been 3 years before to greet me. No, there were no Drs. very near in those days in Oklahoma. I suppose there likely were some in Pawnee then, but that was 10 miles away and no telephone, and to go 10 miles to get a Dr. and then wait for him to come back 10 miles took a lot of time, so Mama had to depend on a near neighbor. Aunt Belle lived a mile north of us where the Fairchilds lived when we were on the Green place. You older kids will remember. Mama said Grandpa and I got home in time so that I got to carry Elsa to Mamas bed (with a little (?) help from Aunt Belle).

I know Elsa and I had more fun than I'm sure kids these days have with all of their fancy new-fangled gadgets. How we'd make our stick dolls and cut up any scraps Mama had for us and made some quite original styles - we thought - and play for hours. And we cut out our paper dolls from the old catalogs and magazines. As we got older we'd think up new things to amuse or tantalize each other. When we were tired of being peaceable and loving, one of us would say "Hey, let's mock each other!" Then we were off and on our way. The one who started out was usually the looser though, for no matter what you did the other would keep mocking till Oh, I could about scream - but what good was there in doing that? She'd give out with a louder one than I did. There was never any relief till I'd go tell Mama "Make Elsa quit mocking me" then to hear that echo, "Mama make Elsa quit mocking me."O 0 0 0 what our poor old Mom went through with us 2 or 3 older kids, I don't see how she had the courage to go on and have 10 of us. As I remember, Mama had a lot of patience with us older kids, more than with the younger ones. Guess she was beginning to wonder if it even paid to be patient. I remember on the Green place when the kids used to come along with "HYL" (Hit You Last) and the race was on. Maybe a couple more were added to the 1st couple. I can still see Elsa running across the corn field out west of the house, one side of her hair worked loose and was flying in the wind. 0, love that Elsa. Yep, I sure did. Always!


One cold cloudy morning in March - the 15th to be exact, in 1904, I remember. I was up kinda early I guess, any way it looked kinda dark and dreary. I was looking out of the window and I saw someone driving in our gate. Say it looked like our old buggy and our "Old Joe" pulling it and Mrs. Browning was driving him! Now, whatever in the world was she coming to our house for, that time of day and driving our horse? When I asked her how it happened she was driving Ole Joe, she said he came into their yard that morning and she thought she better bring him back home.

I can't remember what they did with Elsa and me that day, but some time or other there was our little baby brother. "Mama's little Harley Man". Then our joy was complete. You know, I had heard Mama telling someone sometime before that her brother Charlie (our uncle) had wanted a little sister so badly and he had prayed that God would send him a little sister and sure enough a short time later our mom was born. So I thought I'd try it too, and I remember I prayed for a little brother for a while and we did get our brother. Of course someone else must have thought of it before I ever got the idea, for as I remember it wasn't too long before he was born and I know time went much slower those days than it does now.

I don't know for sure but I believe Mama had Dr. Cash for our Dr. when Harley was born. I know for all the rest he was our Dr. till we came to Kansas. Then Dr. Webb came for Roland. I guess the worst thing that had happened in our family up to about now was in June 1906. When one day I had done something naughty and Mama told me to go out to the corncrib and go in and shut the door and stay till I could be a good girl (in June the corn was all gone) So after a while someone discovered that Harley was missing so "Whoopee" Agnes got out of jail and everyone went looking for Harley. Papa was working over at Mr. Brownings. He had rented some land from Mr. B. and had planted corn. Neva was a baby, born in March. I don't know just what Mama did with her and Elsa, she would have been 4 and I was 7. Elsa couldn't run allover the farm with the rest of us. Papa had Fred and Bill Walton, they were cousins of Uncle Jim's and Aunt Mary's kids. They were likely about 11 and 12. These boys were chopping cotton for Pop and Mama sent me to the field to have them look for Harley. I went with them and we hunted on our place and the farm West of us. Mama called Mrs. Taulbee and she came.

Anyway she found him down North of the orchard. Papa had planted a small patch of corn (likely sweet corn) and he was wandering in the corn. Mama said he must have been asleep for one side of his face was sunburned. We missed him around 11 A.M. and it was 12:30 or so I guess - think Mama said he was gone one and a half hours. Mama had called Brownings for Papa to come home, but I guess before he got home he'd been found. We were all a very happy family that day, I can tell you. I guess I didn't let him get out of my sight the rest of the summer. Mama told me if I didn't quit watching him so close he wouldn't answer me at all, but just seemed I couldn't keep my mind off him. I worried all summer because I was to start school in the fall and how could I trust anyone to watch him and not let him get away again. But to school I had to go and he didn't get lost again.


Well, I didn't have any ideas about I should pray for another brother, but one night along about March 7th 1906, Elsa and I woke up in the bed the folks had in the kitchen. Grandpa used to sleep in when he was with us (we had a trundle bed that papa had cut down from and old wooden bedstead and made a little low bed Mama rolled under their bed in the daytime and rolled out at nite.) Somehow they had got us out into this bed. We heard some unusual up) and here was Tade Hopp to be with Mama. the oven door open and baby crying someplace. noises (anyway I did and guess I woke Elsa Akers our hired man. He'd gone to get Mrs.

He was sitting by the kitchen stove with he had his coat and cap on and there was a So guess what? Yeah, we had something! So we were talking like 2 little kids would; wondering what it was and hoping it was a brother so we'd each have a brother. All the jabbering we did, I've always wondered just what all we did say that might be interesting to a young man about 18 or 19! I guess he had been with us since the last fall, anyway one night shortly after he came to our house we were getting ready for bed and we always kissed Papa and Mama goodnight, so Elsa went over and stood beside Tade's chair up close and just looking at him. Guess she must have said something, he was reading. Anyway he asked what she said & Mama said she guessed she wanted to kiss him goodnight, so he bent over and she kissed him. Elsa was the kissing'est girl I ever knew. She kissed this little girl in the depot in Winfield, Kansas who was sick, and in about 2 weeks she got the measles and gave 'em to all the rest of us. Another time we had stopped at Mr. Brownings one Sunday P.M. from church and Mr. B. had a colored man & his wife living in a little cabin in the pasture working for him. They had a little baby, likely 5 or 6 months old. The Mother had a blanket out in the yard and the baby laying on it. We kids had wandered out and were sitting out there visiting with the lady and Elsa got down on the blanket with the baby and kissed it. We asked her afterward why she did it. "Well I was afraid the Mama might be mad at me if I didn't" she said. Hey, I'll bet Elsa will be ready to"HYL" at me after all my blabbing about her. Well, I'm just getting a little even for some of the things she did to me, Na-Ya-Na-Ya! But I love that gal m-m-m-m.

Well, looks like I've got off my track haven't I? This is sposed to be for Neva. Well anyway Neva was a very sweet little sister & we were just as happy with her as if she'd have been a boy. She was always a loving cuddly little girl. I guess the worst she ever did for me was the time I had put my paper dolls up on
the dresser so the little kids couldn't here that little stinker pulled a chair on it & I heard her talking and went to their heads off and saying so "sweetly" (hear they pop). tear them or loose them & up to the dresser & stood see. She was pulling to herself "hie ley pop" I had the worst luck bringing up my sisters and brothers! But now I'm glad I did. I really don't get mad at them anYmore. They are all so good to me.

Neva had such a pretty little blue dress made of flaxen, a kinda mercerized cotton, a sky blue with little white star-shaped figures. Mama made it cute with a long waist and little pleated skirt and trimmed with lace. She was a living' doll with her gold colored hair and blue eyes, just the color of her dress. I always think of her when I hear the song "My Alice Blue Gown" She thought she was pretty cute too. When she was all ready for 5.5. one morning. I can see her yet after we had her ready for 5.5. and mama sat her on a chair to keep nice while Mama helped someone else and our sweet little brother Harley came along admiring her and she sat up so nice and prim and said, "Aw, Harley, you go way. I'm nice and you ain't" Well, I'll let Neva rest a while now. We'll likely hear more of her along in with some of the other items.



More things came a-happening along early in the A.M.! On December 18, 1907 we kids woke up and here was Mrs. Taulbee at our house getting breakfast ready and mama was sitting around like a lady of leisure. Well, what could this mean? But looks like I'd get "smart" sometime after all those years of "experience" of odd things happening every 2 years! They all kept hurrying Elsa, Harley and me around to "eat your breakfast - hurry up, you kids can go down and play at Dollarhides today with Birdie (that was their little girl, she was between Elsa and me I think). More queer doin's and so early in the A.M.! But they finally got us out and on our way and told us Papa would come and get us and to stay there. All of it was "different" but not so bad till it got later and way into the late afternoon. We wanted to go home, but Mrs. D. said Papa would get us and we'd better wait. These folks lived down where Hacks used to. Well, after so long here came papa to take us home and he said we had a new baby sister. Oh!! another sister. Well, long as she was here, guess she'll be O.K. We got home and Papa had got a hired girl, Minnie Enloe. They used to live down where we had just spent the day. She got us some supper, but it didn't taste like "mother's used to". She didn't cook it long enough, so if you haven't tried raw, burnt corn-meal mush, you don't know what you've missed. The next day she tried something else new to us. She baked bread. Whatever else she could do, she sure was as real "firemaker". Yep - she burnt the bread allover the top and the inside was doughy and she wasn't very clean about her work. So Papa said he thought he and Agnes could get the work done alone. So we were all on our own then. Papa did the cooking and I'm not too sure what I did. I 'spect I did dishes and herded kids and the like.

Lola was born one week before Christmas and Aunt Mary made a nice cake for our Christmas dinner. Papa was getting dinner for us on Christmas Day and it was a nice warm day and Papa had the kitchen door open and kids and cats coming and going. But the old mama kitty thought something smelled good somewhere. The bottom cupboard doors were open and she found our nice cake and she liked it. She sure made it look sick before wefound her.So then no one wanted any of that cake. Papa asked Mama how to make pie dough. She told him and he got a can of peaches out of the cellar and made a peach pie and it was real good.

Then one day Papa decided he'd better comb my hair (likely soon after we were alone) and mama always braided 2 braids in the front on each side and brought these 2 back, braided them in with one braid down the back. Well, he got the one on the left side herded in O.K. till it was about half way down the braid and we discovered it and instead of taking it out and starting over again, he started the right braid in half way down and braided it in from there. I wore it till Mama was up so she could comb my hair in the style I was accustomed to wearing it. It sure felt better!

Well, our little Lolly was only a few weeks old and our folks made up their minds to have a public auction, sellout and go to Kansas. Papa always wanted to be a railroad brake-man. His Mother opposed it, for she thought it was too dangerous. Then when he married our Mama, she felt the same as Grandma had, but she thought if he'd never be happy if he didn't try it, she'd tell him to go ahead. They had the auction about the 22 or 23 of January. About that time Lola was little and fussy and Mama was very busy with all this extra work and a little baby to take care of. That evening after the sale we left our home and stayed at Uncle Jim and Aunt Mary's. Mama, Harley, Neva and Lola went to Glencoe and stayed at Uncle Newt and Aunt Sarah Baggett's. Uncle N. was our Grandpa Baggett's brother (Grandpa died December 14, 1907 just 4 days before Lola was born). While Papa, Elsa and I were at Uncle Jim's, I got pneumonia and Mama was having her hands full at Uncle Newts. Harley had a spell of croup, I guess, anyway he was sick and so was Lola - a bad cold. They had to stick around down that way till we all got able to travel, but we were finally on our way. Got to Grandpa and Grandma Beemans.

Papa was trying to get into the railroad business, but when he went looking into it he was too old. He'd been 35 in November. Then he had to do something else, so he got work at the brick plant. He was there for a while, then at the cement plant and later in the summer Dickersons were building the grain elevator down near the depot in Humboldt. Papa worked there I guess till they were done. Then he got homesick for Oklahoma and went back to see how they were doing with us all gone. He got a job as night watchman at the cotton gin in Glencoe. I believe this was in September. Anyway he boarded with Grandpa and Grandma Oliver's, Arch Olivers folks (the Jrs. were friends of the folks).

Pop had to look for a house for us and it was Thanksgiving Day when we left Grandpa Beemans for Oklahoma. We moved into the house December 1. Elsa and I went to school in Glencoe till the last of February. Then we moved back out to the old home place after the renters had moved out. Oh, I remember how good it was to be back out to the old home again after such a lot of moving and changing about: from the home place in January 1908 to Uncle Jim's, onto Kansas and Grandpa Beemans, and into Humboldt. Then to Olivers, then this house in Glencoe and out to the homeplace. We settled down here and stayed for quite a spell till January 3rd 1914, when we moved to the John Green farm.


This old house wasn't very big now for 2 grown-ups and 5 growing kids, so Papa enlarged the old smoke house (don't know why they called it that - maybe they had used it for that at sometime). They had a bed in there, too {there is a line missing here} part of the time to use for extra and a porch built out in front and on to the kitchen at one end. They took this porch in and built it that much bigger. That was the fall of 1909. They put two beds in here and put us kids out here to sleep. Guess it was Elsa, I, Harley and Neva.

One evening after supper dishes were all done we were sitting around and Mama asked Elsa and me to braid her hair - she had it down. I should have tumbled, but no, I always needed a good shove before I fell.

We all went to bed and along in the night I woke up and heard what I thought was the cats fighting and yowling and noises, but of course it was farther away and doors closed, so I never thought. Guess I went to sleep, but when we woke un the A.M. here was Mrs. Taylor at our house and guess what else?
Aw, I didn't think you'd guess it so quick! Yes Sir, here was our No.5 sister, Cleo, February 5 1910. She was a cute little blondie. A Mrs. Lutz came and stayed with Mama and took care of us for about 2 weeks. Then Mama and we kids helped her with the work.

There was a colored man and his wife living in the neighborhood. The man helped Papa cutting and sawing wood and Mama had his wife come help her with the washing for a couple of weeks. The were Gilbert and Clarissama Sutton. One day when she was there, I guess she was getting uneasy, anyway she asked "Miz Baggett, do you dip snuff?" Mama said "No". Then, "Do you chew tobacco?" Mama said "No" "Well, does Mr. Baggett chew tobacco?" Mama answered "Yes" "Well, could I have a little piece?" So Mama gave her part of a plug. When they were through eating at their table, she pulled out her plug of tobacco and took her chew. Gilbert said "Daughta (he always called her Daughta) where'd you get that tobacco?" She said, "Miz Baggett gave it to me." He said, "give me a chew". We used to have lots of laughs over these two folks, but they were happy.

Cleo was a lovable little girl and always busy at something. Once while playing around the yard she found a forked stick about 5-6 inches long and she adopted it as her doll and called it Dorothy Newman. She'd carry this with her everywhere she went, but one night she couldn't find it. I guess she had gone to bed without it and missed it through the night. Anyway she woke up and so did the rest of the house. She was crying - she couldn't find Dorothy Newman. Well, our Pop got tired of the crying, so he got up and dressed and lit the old lantern and went out looking for D. N. till he found her. He brought it in to Cleo and she was happy and cuddled down with her precious dolly and the household got back to sleep again. One summer Aunt Winnie came to visit her brothers and Aunt Pearl (Aunt Winnie lived in Kansas). She had been to Aunt Pearls and came over to our house one evening to stay overnight. She drove Aunt Pearl's brown pony, Dolly. It was after supper and Mama was getting the little ones bathed and ready for bed. She was about through with Cleo and someone outside called, "Here comes Aunt Winnie!" Well, that was enough of that bath for Cleo. She and Aunt W. were real pals and Mama's back was turned, so Cleo popped out of the tub and outside as fast as her little feet could carry her, running to greet Aunt Winnie. I can see her yet; her little round, pink fanny - the original "Little Fat Rascal". She's still a cute kid.

Cleo had lots of cute tricks. We always went to 5.5. Sunday afternoons. We had to share the preachers with the Morrison Methodist Church. He lived in Morrison and preached Sunday A.M. there and at Lela school house at 3P.M. (5.5. at 2P.M.). We always went and Cleo wasn't quite big enough for the primary class. Mrs. Shelledy was the teacher and too big (she thought) to sit in the seat with Mom and Pop.She'd wiggle loose and go up with the little kids a while and then back with the big-folks class.

I guess Pop didn't want to make a disturbance, so they let her have her "fling". But woe be to her yet! When we got home, Papa said "Cleo come here". He took her on his lap and told her she was getting big enough, she must sit in the seat with Mom and Pop and not wiggle around or run around. "Now do you understand what I mean, Cleo?" Oh yes, she knew. So the next Sunday Papa told Cleo before we left "Now you must keep still today and not wiggle around. If you do, I'm going to spank you when we get home." So everyone went to 5.5. as usual. Yep you guessed it: Cleo forgot all about her instructions, I guess, or maybe she just wondered if maybe Pop would forget or if she could flirt her way out of it with her flashing smile and baby blue eyes. (She was a doll), but she'd not lived in this home only about 2 years and didn't know that kids usually got what was coroming to them.

After the classes were under way, Cleo decided she'd start in where she left off last Sunday. She had herself a merry time, without too much interference. When we got home, Pop called her to him again and took her up on his lap and said, "Now Cleo, do you remember what I told you last Sunday"? She stalled a bit and nodded her head. "Well," Papa said, "I'll have to spank you, like I told you." So he laid her across his lap and gave her a couple of whacks on her you-know-where. Then Papa said, "Now Cleo, do you know why I spanked you?" She turned those baby blue eyes up to him and said, "Isn't it my birthday?" So he gave her a couple more whacks and said, "Now do you know?" and she was whimpering then, but she said, "Cause I wiggled." So she had learned one lesson early in life. I never could see how pop could go through that without laughing, but he saved that for when no one saw him, I guess.

Well, she grew up and was ready for school. Mrs. Abbott was the teacher. She had this class of wee ones up in front and was giving them a lesson in Arithmetic and told them if they had 100 pennies that was worth $1. If you had 50 pennies, it was worth one-half dollar. Cleo was thinking fast, and all at once she said, "I think my papa has $5.00" Then everyone laughed and we big kids were embarrassed. I never did like folks to laugh at our kids, but they thought it was funny. These were what is called "The Good Old Days."



Well I was getting to be a young lady by this time. I'd gathered a little information here and there and the signs gave no ideas I'd not had before. Sure enough, on January 19, 1912, we woke up early and heard familiar sounds we'd not heard for about 2 years. Sure enough! Yes sir, here was another sister, well for goodness sake! Well, after we saw her, we accepted her for ours. We thought she was a cute little kid, but it would have been nice if she'd been a little brother. We kids all stayed home from school and didn't have any outside help. Now, I'm not too sure if maybe Elsa and Harley went to school, but I stayed home and kept house, cooked and such.

I don't remember the day of the week she was born, but the following Sunday Uncle Earl and family came over for the day and then Aunt Ada wanted to take Neva and Lola home and keep them that week. So they went and they had the time of their young lives that week.

As Neva and Lola were always chums, so were Cleo and Edith. As I remember, Edith was always a well-behaved little kid. I really can't think of any naughty things she did like some of the others did. Oh, yes, now I think of one time.

It was just a short time before Vick and I were married. We girls were in the kitchen getting ready to do dishes. I guess it was Cleo and Edies turn to do that and there was some squabbling going on and Pop was tired of hearing it. Edie must have made the most noise and Pop said, "Edie, you go on to bed". Edie started off, mumbling to herself, "Hm-m-m you ain't spitin' me any. I wanted to go to bed anyhow!" Pop didn't hear her, but it tickled the rest of us so much.

One time the little kids were playing out in the yard. Edie and Dot were fussing about something. Now I'm not too sure which one said it, but one was hitting and pinching the other. She said, "You are the hittiest and pinchiest thing I know - but you're not as hitty as you are pinchy." Now I think this took place after I was married and it's hear-say to me. I didn't really hear it.



Well, the days on our old home place where we were all born were swiftly passing. Edie was nearly 2 years old - on January 3, 1914 - we moved closer to school. We had always had 2 3/4 miles to walk to school. Now we only had 1 1/2 miles.

We moved onto the John Green farm on my 15th Birthday. We liked our new home and lived there till October 1916. In March I had a bad cold and in March it went into pneumonia. I was sick in bed for a week and had a terrible cough and pleurisy. The folks were quite worried about me for a while - took me to see Dr. Cash 2 or 3 times and he was out while I was in bed. They were afraid of getting T. B. There was a girl in our school who had it and we played with her, as she had started to school the same year I did. Her name was Flora Dunn and she died later. Well, when the days got nice and warm, the sunshine cooked the old germs out and I've never had it since. When nice spring days came, we got a new little sister - yes, by this time we had a houseful of girls, but we still had room for 2 more sisters.

This time our little Dottie was at home when we got home from school. Elsa was quite disgusted. She hunted up some of Harley's clothes - overalls, shirt and old felt hat. She was 2 years older than Harley, and he wasn't very big for his age then - so they fitted Elsa kinda "quick" if you know what I mean. She went out and cut some wood and helped do some chores around the barn. She was thoroughly disgusted. She said "Someone had to be a boy and help Papa and Harley, so she'd be a boy".

Maybe it was because the clothes were too tight, maybe it was just that she decided it was too hard work to do mans work, maybe it was just that she didn't like to work very well. She didn't, you know, when she was a kid. That's why when she grew up she is such a good little worker and just such a sweet old sister. Yep, we sure love you, Sis.

Well our Dottie grew up and was just as sweet as she could be, with her big brown eyes, brown hair and happy personality.

That spring we all had the chickenpox. I believe Elsa got them from Virginia Fairchild. Mrs. Fairchild insisted on Elsa coming to the door to see if she thought Virginia had the chickenpox. Elsa said she didn't know anything about them. Mrs. Fairchild kept talking and Elsa came home. Everyone of us had them, even our little Dottie, but as she was so small she only had 2 of them: one above each knee. Don't know if she ever had them again. As I said, she was a cute little trick. I remember one day at the dinner table she had done something cute and papa was looking at her so proud. Mama was too, and they looked at each other and smiled and Mama said "which one does she take after?" Pop just grinned and threw back his shoulders and pointed to himself.



In the fall of 1916, about October or November, we moved from the Green Farm to the Nichols farm. I guess nothing too eventful happened during this time.

April 2, 1917 President Wilson declared war on Germany - the 1st World War. There were troubles we'd never seen before: food rationing, shortages and our first daylight saving time.

Then along in July, Elsa and I wanted to have a party. We had been to lots of parties and had never had one. The folks said we could, so we had set the date for about August 2 or 3rd - not too sure of the date. Anyway we had written invitations to some who were out of our near community and telephoned some - we were getting real "hopped" up about it.

Then about 3 or 4 A.M. on August 1st, Pop got up and called Dr. Cash to come out. I heard pop say "Yes, a confinement case.""Well, now, isn't this a nice kettle of fish?", says I to myself. "What in the heck could we do in a situation like this - of all times to have such a thing going on!" I got up and got dressed.
I wanted to run away - if there had been anyway to go - or anywhere to go. I'm not just sure where Elsa was or if she had waked up, but I always woke up at any excuse. So here I was - up - but what to do now or where to go. So I went outside and Pop was up and came out.

I was out sitting on the old table at the corner of the kitchen where we used to set the separator tank, fixtures and milk pails through the day. I was all humped up with my chin on my knees, crying. It was going to be so embarrassing. Why had the folks said "Yes"? It was a cryin" shame - so it was!! This was a real dirty trick for that little Brat to play on us.

Papa came and put his arms around me and said over and over how sorry he was, but that wasn't much comfort then! It was the 1st day of August in Oklahoma, so you can bet it was going to be a hot day. But it was a beautiful sunrise; I don't think I ever see an early morning sunrise that this morning doesn't come back to me.

Well Mrs. Wiles came over for the "party" (not the one Elsa and I had been planning) and Dr. Cash got there and we got the rest of the kids up and out. Maybe we had breakfast before - maybe after. I remember we peeled potatoes to fry and Mrs. Wiles helped slice them. She sliced them about 1/2 inch thick and big whole slices. This memory too comes back when I'm slicing potatoes - specially the raw ones. Funny, hun?

Neva and Lola took the little kids out in the pasture to play (at this time of the day?? Oh well, maybe someday we'll understand things we don't now.) Neva and Lola tell of some funny things that happened, but it's only hear-say, I wasn't there, so I wouldn't dare repeat them - BEETS for instance!!

Eventually things simmered down to sorta like normal again and everyone came drifting in. And "Oh come and see your new little sister". Heck, another girl. I wasn't even interested - after all she had done me a pretty dirty trick, but I finally gave her a little sneaky look - and "Say, she is kinda cute at that. Maybe I'll love her someday."

It didn't take long till we'd not part with her. Then afterward whenever she'd get a little sick, I'd worry for fear something would happen to her and we' lose her, how could I ever stand it? Oh, I paid for all the mean things I thought about her before and I said I'd never be mad at another one!
Well, time drifted oni the war was over and everything was going as usual. One day in August, 1919, we got a letter from Uncle Charley. He told of a farm in Kansas that was for rent - a good farm, 240 acres, 8 room house, a paradise, and Pop had gone up to the Arkansas River. I don't know anYmore why. We and Akers had been up there a week or so before. Anyway when we got the letter - somehow Uncle Charley wanted an answer soon - so Harley got on Cricket and went up to find him.

It was 12 miles to where he'd be. It was getting late before they got home. Well, Papa made his plans and left that next day on the train for Humboldt. He finished up the business there and came home.

We started taking plans to move - had an auction October 7th. We sold everything but clothes and bedding and got ready the 8th and left on the train October 9th. We arrived at Humboldt in the
rain about 6 P.M. Uncle Charlies' were there to meet the train. Papa stayed in Oklahoma to finish up all the business and came a few days later. We were always glad we made the change.

We finally got all settled down in our new home. Had lots of happy get-to-gethers with Uncle Charlie's. They had about the same size family we did. We went to parties and got acquainted with people and neighbors.


Then finally, "0 Joy, here we were going to - 0 Dear - Have you guessed it yet? Yeah, I thought you likely would!" But I'm not going to be mad this time -- I hope. Gee, it sure was getting monotonous, but you just behave yourself, now Agnes! So I talked me into it.

Mama wasn't feeling very well these days for a month or so. One Saturday P.M. in May (was to have been July) Papa and Lola went to Humboldt and Harley was working in the field. I'm not sure where all the kids were, but I was home sewing in the folks bedroom. Mama was sleeping and she woke up with a start - she wanted me to call Dr. Webb.

I went to the kitchen to telephone. I tried and tried, but couldn't get Central or any neighbors - most of them always went to town Saturday P.M. anyway. Well, I tried and tried and went back to see if I could do anything for Mama.

She wanted to use the chamber. I got it for her and went back to the telephone. She called me again that it was over. I rushed in and here his feet were sticking out of the pot. Mama had to tell me to pull him out, I just didn't have any gumption any more. Well I did. I was really "Shook". Well, soon as I got him out and on the bed, mama said, "Thank the Lord, it's a BOY!!"

Elsa and I had been at home, I remember now. She had gone to the field to have Harley go to Hinkles to call the Dr. Webb, she couldn't get anyone either, so Harley went on Cricket to find the Dr. He met Pop coming home. He stopped and Harley told him,

"We've got a boy." Pop said "WHAT?" Then he started the horses and guess he was sure pushing on the lines. Well, it was a happy night in the Baggett household that night!

Roland wasn't a very healthy baby, though. We had lots of worries before he was a healthy boy. But he grew up to be a big man - tall, but never fat. We lost many hours of sleep, but it's been worth it, Kid. We love you heaps.

Maybe I've been kinda crabby at you kids sometimes and I've done things in past years that I'm sorry about, now I have time to remember, but I've always loved you and hope if you remember any of the meanness that you'll forget and forgive
If there is ever such a thing that people have a second "go around" at this old earth and I get back here, I hope I'm sent to the same parents and the same brothers and sisters come along. I hope I can profit by my mistakes and try to be a better, more understanding Big Sister.

We've been a Happy Family all these years - all very happily married to good, honest mates and all harmonize - they have been the best. Now, like Pop wrote once to Aunt Winnie, "I love you all "Harder than thunder can bump a stump" - and hope we can all meet our Dear Parents in the Next World. I love you all very much and thought I'd tell you so.



This photo (tin type or Daguerreotype) is of the home of Andrew and Lydia Ann (Pomroy) Beeman.  It is (was) located near Humboldt Kansas.  It was built by Andrew Beeman.  All of the Beeman children (7 of them) were born and raised there except Benny who died about age 7 or 8.  He later built a larger home, but the old house remained and my mother Dorothy Baggett said "we used to play in it when we visited grandma"