catch the first post
here.
Written by my Great-Grandma Elda Brown in January, 1936:
I was born at Bangor, Iowa, in the year 1868. Having lived there a short time, I moved with my parents, sisters and brother to a little 80 acre farm. About 8 miles from this little village, I had three sisters and a brother older than myself. This was a pleasant little home and I can well remember the happy times we had playing with our neighbors children. About a quarter of a mile from where we lived, there was a little brook about half way between the two houses and many times my little girl friend and I would take our lunch and spend the entire day by this little stream in the shade of the trees near by. I lived there until I was 8 years old.
During this time, my sister just older than myself was taken from us by death. This brought a sadness into our lives and it wasn't long until we decided - as there was quite a rush to Kansas - that we too would follow the crowd.
So, my father loaded up two wagons (covered wagons was the way people traveled in those days) and in the faul (her spelling) of 1876 (100 YEARS before I was born!!!) we started on our trip. I still remember the thrill I had when we drove our wagons on a ferry boat to cross the Missouri River. At the end of nine days, we reached our destination. A little settlement in Republic Co. near Mill Creek where we had friends and a few relatives. We had as yet taken no claim, so we secured a double log cabin to live in for the winter.
There were no schools organized, so the people there insisted my oldest sister starting up a subscription school in one room of the cabin. This she did with the aid of of willing hands who brought chunks of wood with native lumber laid on for seats. It was unusual thing to see a board slide off the chunks and a whole seat full of youngsters fall over backwards. Three months was the length of this term.
It was soon after this that neighbors went together and built a log church where a Friends meeting was organized and a monthly meeting established to be known as Mill Creek Monthly Meeting.
By the next spring, my father had filed on a place that had a dugout on it built close to a little stream of water and we moved into this. At one time during a heavy rain the water got so high that it ran into the dugout!
...to be continued!
