Celebrating the restoration of Palmyra Church

Our neighbors up the road at Palmyra in Warren County are celebrating this weekend both the 150th birthday of the historic Palmyra Church and the multi-year restoration effort that brought it back from the brink of disaster. The image here is taken from the Facebook page of The Historic Palmyra Church Restoration Project.

I've driven by this beautiful old building all my life, usually while taking a scenic route from Chariton to Des Moines. Built during 1870 to house a Methodist Episcopal congregation, it was retained by the community after use as a church ceased, then gradually fell into disrepair.

By 2016, when the restoration effort began, there were holes in the roof, the basement had collapsed, portions of the ceiling had fallen and the exterior was in bad shape.

But all of that has changed now. If you're in the neighborhood, open house hours will be 10 a.m. to 2 p.m. today (Saturday) and noon to 4 p.m. tomorrow. Masks are required and social distancing will be enforced. Or you can follow the event on Facebook.

And here's a video, posted by Jane Colacecchi, that traces the history of both the church and the restoration effort that saved it.

"Children of the Corn" in Warren Township?

Got to admit that when I came across this photo yesterday, Stephen King's "Children of the Corn" was the first thing that came to mind. My goodness, some of these youngsters look unhappy.

There's an undated note on the back of this card, signed "Aunt Rosa,"  that reads in part, "... some of  them look awful sour, but I guess you can pick out Arthur and Lois." 

Sadly, I can't, but would guess the image dates from the early 1920s.

It's one of a set of eight cards, four of which are stamped "Union No. 6, Warren Township." That identifies the school as a district located about three and a half miles slightly southwest of Chariton on the Bonnett farm. Some of the cards also are stamped, "Lewis Bonnett."

The other two images, probably from the same school, date from about 1910 and most likely were taken during separate terms. I can date them because of the lively backdrop, which appears in school photos taken in other districts that are dated 1910 in the Lucas County Historical Society collection.

The photographer apparently carried the backdrop with him (or her) from school to school and mounted it on exterior walls of the buildings using nails and rope, then posed the scholars in front of it.

Whatever the case, they're interesting images. 

The meaning of life --- according to Twitter

This is the most useful result of my pre-dawn search for the meaning of life in the social media --- in this case, Twitter.

The other part of the equation is to do your best to avoid being one of those annoying high-maintenance  critters who actively drains the energy of folks he or she comes into contact with.

That doesn't mean you don't speak (or "share") your mind --- just that you do so judiciously. 

I think I'm going to go vote today. I like the idea of reporting to my precinct site on election day, but it seems just as well to get it all done early this year.

Of course I'll be voting a straight Democrat ticket. Anything else is inconceivable.

19th Century scholars, probably at McMains School

I've been trying to decide where to file this vintage image, applying lessons learned while watching fictional detectives at work and channeling Hercule Poirot. Finally decided that it probably belongs with material related to McMains School (Union Township No. 3), at one time the most southwesterly rural school district in Lucas County. Wayne County was a mile and a quarter to the south; Clarke, a mile and a half west.

So I'll put it there, but with the caution that my conclusions are tentative.

The photograph came to the Lucas County Historical Society during 1992 from the late Giles Lowe (1910-1997), apparently unidentified since it's noted in related paperwork only as "a rural school."

Giles and several generations of his family lived near and attended McMains School, however, so it seems likely this is where the photo was taken.

Based on the clothing worn by the scholars, I'll date it to the late 1880s or early 1890s. Everyone was dressed in Sunday-go-to-meeting best. Note the flag and, also, what probably was an unabridged dictionary on a stand, obviously a learning tool prized in the district.

If anyone recognizes the image and can either confirm or correct my conclusions, please get in touch.

An enigmatic message from Lucas, 1908

Reading the messages does slow down the process when filing postcards at the museum, but it's one of the small rewards for what otherwise is a tedious process.

This card is labeled "Residence Scene, Lucas, Ia.," is dated March 20, 1908, and is addressed to Miss Bessie Davis, P.O. Box 87, Lucas. I don't recognize the house.

The message, in two parts, reads: "This will be the next subject for Sunday" and "This is Happy Hill. He was the man that said, give me Liberty or give me death?" And it was signed, "From 13$$3."

Bessie was Bessie Pearl Davis, who at age 18 was living with her parents, John and Sarah Davis, and sister, Lidda, when the 1910 census was taken. Her father's occupation was given as "railroad foreman."

Bessie went on to marry Edwin S. Robison during 1912 and their daughter was Margaret, who married Jack E. Miller. It was their daughter, Patricia, who found the card among her mother's belongings and donated it to the Lucas County Historical Society.

So we know who Bessie was, but the message remains enigmatic.

Faced by worldwide threat, a nation pulls together

“On this day, we Americans proclaim the vitality of our history, the singleness of our will and the unity of our nation," President Franklin D. Roosevelt told the American people during an address via radio to the nation on Wednesday, Oct. 16, 1940 --- R-Day. 

It was the day more than 16 million young men registered --- the "R" in R-Day --- for the first peacetime military draft in the nation's history, including more than 1,400 Lucas Countyans.

As war engulfed Europe, Congress had passed the Selective Training and Service Act of 1940 a month earlier --- not without controversy. Although the nation would unite in the face of war's threat, many non-interventionist voices were raised in protest.

In Iowa, Gov George A. Wilson declared Oct. 16 as Military Registration Day as did his counterparts across the country, requiring all men who had celebrated their 21st birthdays but not yet turned 36 to report to their regular polling places to register --- 15 locations in all in Lucas County.

It was a massive well-coordinated nationwide effort involving both officials and countless volunteers that was completed without computers and instant communication.

Here's the report of how it went from The Chariton Herald-Patriot of Thursday, Oct. 17:

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A total of 1,408 young men between the ages of 21-35 reported at the 15 polling places in Lucas county yesterday to sign up as required under the provisions of the selective service act --- better known as the draft.

Heaviest signup in the county was in Chariton's second ward where a total of 209 men were registered. Smallest total in the county was in Cedar township where 47 registered.

Throughout the county, reports were that the men signing up were for the most part taking their task good-naturedly. The draft is the first one ever to be held during peacetime in the United States.

Signup by townships was as follows: Benton, 54; Cedar, 47; Chariton first ward, 190; Chariton second ward 209; Chariton third ward, 176; English 108; Jackson 89; Liberty 50; Lincoln 62; Ottercreek 63; Pleasant 69; Union 65; Warren 56; Washington 98; and Whitebreast 72. Total, 1,408.

With the huge task of signing up the men, an even larger task now awaits the three-man draft board for this county. After the registration places closed last night, the cards were collected and turned over to County Auditor George Wright, who, in turn, turned them over this morning to the draft board.

The local draft board's office is located on the landing between the first and second floors at the courthouse. A full time stenographer will be hired soon.

The board will now make certain that the cards in its possession are for residents in the precincts or townships included in this county. Cards belonging elsewhere will be sent to their proper districts.

Then the cards will be shuffled together and numbered consecutively. This work was being done today. Tomorrow, a list of men registered in the order of their serial numbers will be prepared. As soon as this list is completed, it will be publicly posted.

Then the local board will telegraph the governor, giving the number of men registered in this district.

The governor then will determine what is the largest serial number in any draft board's area in the state and telegraph that information to Washington, D.C.

When it has been determined what is the largest number in any draft board area in the nation, the national lottery will be held. The national lottery is set tentatively for Oct. 26.

On the basis of numbers drawn from a fish bowl in Washington, D.C., order numbers will be assigned men registered in each district. If serial number 24 is drawn first, for instance, every man in every draft board area whose serial number is 24 will get order No. 1, which means he will be called first.

After order numbers are assigned the local boards will proceed with the job of classifying those drawn on the basis of their availability.

Then quotas of men to receive training will be filled in each district from those most available, and in the order as assigned in the national drawings.

In the (First) World War, Iowa registered 523,578 men, and 68,512 Iowans actually were inducted into the army. First Iowan to be accepted for service under the world war draft was F.E. DeVinny, now of Dallas, Texas.

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Lucas County's first draft board, appointed during mid-October by Gov. Wilson, consisted of Robert L. Jones, Chariton druggist; Percy T. Sprague, Russell real estate and insurance agent; and Clell Fulton, Derby-area farmer. Attached to the board were an attorney, J.D. Threlkeld, and a physician, Dr. A.L. Yocom.

When the Lucas County registration cards were shuffled, Harry Dwaine Clark had the distinction of being No. 1. Numerical lists of all 1,400 were published in subsequent editions of the Chariton newspapers.

After the Oct. 26 lottery drawing in the nation's capital, William Everett Roberts, of Lucas, No. 158, ended up as the first Lucas Countyan who would be called before the draft board.

Lucas County's quota, due by June 30, 1941, was 192 but 105 credits were given for men from the county already in uniform. That left 87 slots to be filled, but officials speculated that volunteers would fill many of those and that relatively few men would be affected by the draft --- during its earliest days.

Dwight's tractor has a new home at the museum

It was a pleasure not long after lunch on Saturday to welcome the late Dwight Thompson's 1938 Allis-Chalmers to the Lucas County Historical Society collection, a gift from his family (from left), daughter Brenda Nuckles of Reidsville, North Carolina; daughter Teresa Quick, of Urbandale; son, Michael Thompson, Chicago; and wife, Helen, of Chariton.

Helen had polished the tractor up and picked this weekend, when all of her children planned to be home, to bring it to the museum. It made several trips around the block in her neighborhood Saturday so that everyone could have a ride, then Michael drove it over the museum. Dwight's sister, Lois (Thompson) Reynolds, of Centerville, also was present for the occasion.

According to Lois, Merwyn and Leona Thompson, of Russell --- parents of Burdette, Dwight and Lois --- purchased the tractor during the late 1950s and used it for many years.

About 1999-2000, Dwight purchased the tractor, disassembled, reassembled and fully restored it and after that it made frequent appearances in local parades and during outings of the Chariton Antique Tractor Club with Dwight at the wheel. Dwight died this past July 22.

Helen serves on the historical society board and she and Dwight also had been long-time volunteers at the museum. So, she said, it made sense to her family to donate the tractor to the museum where the family as well as many others can have access to it at any time.

It also will join the historical society's 1929 Model-A Ford as an ambassador --- so look for it next year when, we hope, a degree of normality will return and we'll be having parades again.

Robert D. Williams, a United Mine Workers pioneer

My annual subscription to Ancestry.com renewed itself the other day --- a not inexpensive proposition. But then it's a tool I use nearly every day that when cost is averaged turns out to be a relatively inexpensive source of information and entertainment.

It makes me especially happy when I find a wonderful photograph like this one --- the 1879 wedding portrait of Robert David Williams and Ann Powell, members of Welsh coal mining families who were married at Cleveland on Oct. 11 of that year, shared by a descendant.

Robert and Ann still were a handsome couple 60 years later when an article noting his status as a labor pioneer --- 50 years a member of the United Mine Workers of America --- was published in The Herald-Patriot of Oct. 10, 1940. But the portrait did not translate well to microfilm.

The reporter in charge of the article played fast and loose with place names and details, and while I've attempted to correct obvious errors it does need to be approached with caution:

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One of the few miners remaining who has belonged to the United Mine Workers of American during the 50 years of its existence is Robert D. Williams of Lucas.

He is a member of Union Local 799, one of the oldest locals in the UMWA, and is recording secretary and treasurer of the organization. He had the honor of receiving his 50-year button from the UMWA following the national convention in Columbus, Ohio, this year.

Born Aug. 28, 1859, near Cymmer Collery at Porth Station, Glamorgan (now Rhondda Cynon Taf), South Wales, Williams started to work in the mines as a messenger when but seven years old.

A year later he was working cleaning track and at nine his father took him into the mines to work.

In 1869, he came to the United States and worked at Kirksville, Illinois, working a shift of 15 hours a day. He worked at Braidwood, at Eureka Mines and at Diamond Mines where, shortly after he left a number of miners were drowned in an accident (Note: In 1883, 74 men and boys drowned in Diamond Mine No. 2, some 60 miles southwest of Chicago).

After an Illinois strike, he came to Lucas and later went to Flagler. In February of 1879, he was one of the 65 men who organized the Knights of Labor union after the group was involved in labor trouble over better working conditions and shorter hours.

In 1879 he was married to Ann Powell at Cleveland, Iowa, and nine children were born to the  couple --- four of whom are living. They are  Robert J. Williams of Omaha, Nebraska; Mrs. Fred H. Baux of Pershing, Iowa; Mrs. Margaret J. Baux (Box) of Chariton; and Mrs. M.F. Mitchell of Rock Springs, Wyoming.

He was among the men who went on strike May 3, 1883, for seven months. He was also a member of the pit committee during the fight for the eight-hour day at Kebb, Iowa.

At Big Hill (in Lucas), he was a member of the pit committee during the time John L. Lewis, national chairman of the C.I.O., worked in the mine, and he was also employed at Buxton in a mine with Thomas Lewis, father of John L. Lewis.

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Ann (Powell) Williams died at age 89 on Feb. 9, 1946, and Robert, two years later, also age 89, on Oct. 26, 1948. They are buried at Fry Hill Cemetery as are his parents, David and Jane (Roberts) Miller and her mother, Catherine (Thomas) Powell. 

Another day as the coronavirus surge accelerates

I was struck this morning by a quote from Dr. Jorge Salinas, lead epidemiologist for the University of Iowa Hospitals, in a Des Moines Register report. He was responding to a question about how medical personnel were responding to the current surge in coronavirus-related hospitalizations:

"... it crushes their souls to care for patient after patient with the same problem that we know how to prevent," he said.

Hospitalizations in Iowa are at record levels as the number of positive cases surges to record levels, surpassing those of early summer and wiping out gains made during the intervening months.

Lucas County Public Health reported eight new cases yesterday, a record I believe, bringing the total to 198.  That doesn't seem like many when looked at from urban locations, but for us --- that's a lot. Especially when you consider that we've been one of Iowa's most fortunate counties with totals in the single digits until just weeks ago.

Gov. Kim Reynold's response, when asked if she planned any response to the surge, was as you might expect, "no." Iowa has a sufficient number of hospital beds to care for the sick, she said.

While that may be true, it does not take into account --- as the University of Minnesota's Dr. Michael Osterholm pointed out the other day --- the fact we have only a limited number of medical personnel to care for the patients in those beds.

Some changes are being made locally. The city of Chariton yesterday made it mandatory that anyone who enters City Hall or the Chariton Free Public Library wear a mask and directed that in-person programming at the library be suspended.

We've been fortunate in St. Andrew's Parish for several weeks now as Bishop Alan Scarfe allowed us to be one of the few Episcopal parishes in Iowa where in-person services were held on Sunday mornings --- with social distancing, masks and muted singing. Because of the surge, however, he now has directed that those services cease for the time being.

I generally gauge the situation based on what I see at the grocery store --- my only regular venture out among large numbers of people I don't know. The staff always is masked, but during a visit yesterday afternoon, about as many customers weren't wearing masks as were; safety precautions in the entrance consisted of a roll of paper towels, an almost-empty spray bottle of sanitizer and a pile of masks. As I approached check-out, a woman --- without a mask --- was coughing loudly at the service counter.

And so it goes ....

Joseph Howard and his two years in the War of 1812

The tombstone --- in Newbern Cemetery --- belongs to Joseph Howard (9 March 1796-2 February 1875), revisited this week while I was stalking Lucas County's War of 1812 veterans. Joseph was a lad just short of his 17th birthday when he enlisted during February of 1813 in Capt. Samuel Whiteside's company of Illinois Mounted Militia and served two years. 

The following brief essay that summarizes his life has been published here before. Written during December of 1903 by Joseph's daughter, Mary Angeline (Mrs. Jesse) Moon, it was included in a notebook of English Township pioneer biographies collected by T.M. Dunshee, now in the Lucas County Historical Society collection. You'll find the original post here.

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Joseph Howard was born in Tennessee March 9, 1796. His father, Abraham Howard, was a Virginian of English descent. His mother, whose maiden name was Stuart, was of Scotch-Irish descent.

At the age of thirteen years in 1809, Joseph's mother moved to Edwardsville, Madison County, Illinois, thirty-four miles east of St. Louis, where they lived until young Howard was seventeen years of age (Abraham Howard reportedly died before his son was born.), when he enlisted in the War of 1812 with what was called the Illinois Rangers. For two years he was kept busy with his regiment, guarding the settlers from the Indians, and on duty in some of the frontier posts. He came to Iowa for the first time in 1813 during an expedition sent up the Mississippi River against the Indians, which went as far north as Rock Island. He said then, if Iowa was ever purchased of the Indians by the Government and came to settlement he would go there. His regiment saw good service, had a number of engagements with the Indians.

After his two years were up he returned home and again engaged in farming and by industry and frugality saved money enough to buy a piece of land, which he proceeded to improve.

The eighteenth day of March 1819 he was married to Jennie McLilly of Edwardsville. Her parents formerly came from South Carolina where she was born the fourth of February 1801. In 1805 they emigrated to Springfield, Tennessee, where they lived until the year 1817 when they came to Edwardsville. Here they lived for perhaps a dozen years.

In 1828 he was converted and joined the Cumberland Presbyterian Church. He entered the Ministry at thirty-two years of age and from that time until 1860 engaged actively in the duties of a minister of the Gospel.

Uncle Jody Howard as he was familiarly known to many of the early settlers of Lee and Lucas Counties, moved to Lee County, Iowa, in the spring of 1835. Here he purchased 320 acres of land eight miles north of West Point. Here he lived for fifteen years. There were but few settlers and plenty of Indians. Keokuk was a little trading post with a few log cabins.

In 1850, Mr. Howard sold his farm and in October they emigrated to Warren County, Iowa, and settled in Whitebreast Township. Here he bought and entered at different times in Warren and Lucas Counties 1,200 acres of land. In February 1852, he purchased 120 acres of Government land in section six lying west of what afterwards became the town of Newbern. He improved and built for himself a home where he spent the remaining years of his life.

He died the second of February 1875. On account of failing health he did not preach regularly from 1860 until his death.

The town of Newbern was laid out by Ransom Davis in 1851, he building the first house. Mr. Howard kept the first post office just across the county line in Lucas County. There were no churches or school houses in the community and but four cabins between Knoxville and Newbern and one between Newbern and Chariton. He was one of the prominent figures in the little town just started.

Mr. and Mrs. Howard had twelve children born to them, seven boys and five girls, Abram, Samuel, Johnson, John T. Elizabeth O., Mary Angeline, William B. Joseph S. James B., Nancy J., Finis A. and Martha M.

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The whims of geography can complicate life for those interested in researching people who lived in or near Newbern, including the Howards. The Marion-Lucas county line forms the southern boundary of the village. The Howard home, where the first post office was located, was just southwest of the village, on the Lucas County side of the line. And the Howards are buried in Newbern Cemetery, some distance west, sliced neatly in half by the Lucas-Warren county line but generally attributed to Warren. So the Howards had a Marion County address but lived in Lucas County and are buried in Warren.

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Joseph's pension/land warrant application file, kept by the U.S. General Services Administration, provides a few more details about Joseph's service and these were what I was looking for when I called it up.

In 1850, while living in Lee County, he applied for and received a War of 1812 service-related warrant entitling him to 160 acres of land. Then in 1871, while living at Newbern, he applied for and received a modest War of 1812 survivor pension. That's the first page of his pension application form above.

These and other records show that he actually enlisted twice in Madison County, Illinois, the first time during early February of 1813. Upon his discharge a year later, he signed up for another year of duty during mid-March, 1814, and served until mid-March 1815 --- an estimated 737 days of service total.

Most of Lucas County's War of 1812 veterans served only a few months, so Joseph may have held the record for the longest term of service.

The application also contains a brief description of what he did while serving in the militia: "He acted a greater portion of the time as a spy or scout. Was in Howard's campaign. Helped build a fort at Warsaw, Illinois."

Howard's campaign is so-called after Benjamin Howard, Kentucky congressman who served as governor of Louisiana Territory (renamed Missouri) from April 1810, then resigned to accept the rank of brigadier general during the war of 1812 and lead operations up and down the Mississippi. He died of disease at St. Louis on Sept. 18, 1814.

Maj. Zachary Taylor supervised building of the Fort Johnson, the first at Warsaw, during 1814 on the east bank of the Mississippi opposite the mouth of the Des Moines River. It was burned after a few weeks, however, and Fort Edwards was built nearby during 1815.

So there you have a bit of the history buried behind that worn tombstone in Newbern Cemetery.

Oh Say, Can You See ....

Here's a rousing (and patriotic) start to the day, courtesy of the San Francisco Gay Mens Chorus ensemble HomoPhonics, which opened the Sept. 26 San Francisco Giants vs. San Diego Padres game with this virtual performance of the National Anthem. 

The chorus, granddaddy of all similar groups around the world, is celebrating its 42nd anniversary this fall, relying (due to the coronavirus) on a virtual platform.

Some will be familiar with the story. During the fall of 1987 the call went out for men in the Castro area of San Francisco interested in forming a chorus --- and rehearsals began.

On the evening of Nov. 27, in the aftermath of the assassination of Supervisor Harvey Milk and Mayor George Moscone, the men gathered, its director passed out copies of Mendelsohn's "Thou, Lord our Refuge," and the group walked to City Hall where its first public performance was given on the steps.

So happy birthday to a group that has brought joy to millions in the intervening years.

"The darkest part of the pandemic"

Osterholm

I could try to explain why, a couple of times a week, I tune into an informal English-language YouTube news broadcast entitled The Reykjavik Grapevine from the capital of a small and somewhat remote North Atlantic island nation. But that would be complicated, so it's best just to say that I do.

And I was struck yesterday by the degree of consternation expressed because an 11th death attributed to the corona virus had occurred as Iceland, like much of Europe, experiences the expected second wave of infections. That's 11 since March In a place with a population estimated at 357,000.

 In Iowa, as of Monday --- where our population is about 3.1 million --- 1,536 deaths have been reported among 107,716 cases of infection and the number of infections reported daily is at an all-time high, just over a thousand per day during the last seven days. In Lucas County, 181 positive cases have been reported --- and six deaths.

Multiply Iceland's population by 10 and you come close to Iowa's population. Multiply the number of deaths in Iceland by 10 and your come up with 111. The degree of concern in the North Atlantic is high and restrictions previously eased are being imposed again. In Iowa, it would appear, we just don't care. 

Europe is experiencing a predicted second wave following the relaxation of restrictions that controlled the initial outbreak. Iowa still is in the midst of an accelerating first wave. In the Far East, nations like China that have the virus under uneasy control at the moment are at work rebuilding their economies.

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All of which brings me to a PBS interview broadcast yesterday with Dr. Michael Osterholm, director of the Center for Infectious Disease Research and Policy at the University of Minnesota, who warns that the "darkest part of the pandemic" is approaching, especially in relatively remote places like Iowa. You can find a transcript here. 

That will come about, he warns, as cold weather settles in, the potential for relatively safe outdoor gatherings decreases and the holidays approach.

The danger intensifies because of what Osterholm calls "pandemic fatigue" combined with "pandemic anger." The former translates as a more relaxed approach to self-restrictions adopted by those who are tired of it all; the latter, to wingnuts who continue to insist that the whole thing is a politically motivated hoax. 

"Pandemic anger," of course, filters down from our current president and, closer to home, his handmaiden, our governor, Ms. Reynolds.

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Lucas County continues to be a relatively lucky place so far as the virus is concerned. Some of that has to do with our rural setting, but much of it has to do with the fact many have taken and continue to take precautions designed to protect both ourselves and others.

That needs to continue, according to Osterholm, since there is no magic bullet and vaccines and effective therapies have not been developed.

If hospitalizations continue to accelerate, he warns, the danger is not a shortage of hospital beds, but instead a limited number of physicians, nurses and support personnel to care for those who are ill.

The last rose of summer ....

The seasonal shift was abrupt here over the weekend --- from highs in the 70s on Saturday to only the 40s on Sunday. And that interfered with plans to find the last traces of summer while on a late afternoon patrol of the museum grounds Sunday.

Here's the obligatory last rose.

And some asters blooming nearby.

I've forgotten the name of this plant, more of a weed actually but pretty.

And a few somewhat battered zinnias in a bed just off the patio.

I'd planned to walk down to the lower garden from the patio, but by the time I got there It had become evident that I should have worn a coat.

So I came home with what I had and sat by the fire.

There's still kale to be had in the garden and some leeks. So maybe I'll make it the rest of the way down today.

 

My virtual yard signs ...

It's time to put out the virtual yard signs, now that Iowa's first real cold of the season caused the furnace to run overnight and lull me into sleeping late. 

"Biden-Harris" is a given, but this one would stand beside it --- at least until someone got around to destroying or swiping it. The sign fairly well speaks for itself.

The graphic was developed after the 2016 election by a Portland, Oregon-based organization with the euphonious name Nasty Women Get Shit Done (NWGSD) and profits from the sale of various products, including yard sighs, that bear it go to organizations that work toward one or more of the goals it expresses.

It's a bit late in the election cycle to order now, but the goals are enduring. Here's a link to the NWGSD web site.

Chariton's twin schools --- that really weren't

Most vintage postcards of Chariton, while hardly a dime a dozen, aren't especially rare either --- we have multiple copies of most views in the Lucas County Historical Society collection. But this is a rare one, in fact the only one I've seen.

It depicts what appears to be twin schools, although they weren't. Garfield was built in southeast Chariton during 1881 and Franklin, in northwest Chariton, during 1890. Known originally as East and West schools, the more formal names were added in 1892. Obviously, the school district was pleased with Garfield, so constructed Franklin in its image.

Garfield still is with us, although it looks much different. The current facade of the building, now privately owned, fronts an addition built in 1914 containing four classrooms on two floors above a basement. During 1940, much of what remained of the original building was demolished and a wing containing a gymnasium and additional classrooms built to the west. It's not clear if any of the fabric of the 1881 building survived.

Franklin looked much as it did when built until 1964 when it was closed and demolished upon completion of the new Columbus and Van Allen school buildings. Franklin Park, now containing the Chariton Dog Park, is located on its site.

The card itself was a gift during 2013 from the late Ivalee Coffey and if you look carefully at it you'll see that it was printed in France and ordered by the Chariton's Fluke store

Brother Morrow and the rattlesnake that wasn't

This is another of Henry Gittinger's stories about the old Greenville neighborhood in far southeast Lucas County of which he --- born in 1861 --- was a native son. Gittinger edited and published The Chariton Leader for many years; this item appeared in his edition of Feb. 11, 1915.

The incident would have have occurred 1870-72, when the Rev. J.S. Morrow was one of two preachers assigned to the Russell Circuit of the Methodist Episcopal Church to serve as many as eight scattered congregations of which only Russell remains. Greenville, where this story is set, had been the scene of the first preaching service in Lucas County, held during 1849 in the cabin of Xury and Polly West. Despite its seniority among Methodist congregations, there never was a church building at Greenville, however.

Here's Henry's tale of a pioneer preacher and a couple of his trials and tribulations. The map is from the Andreas Atlas of Iowa, published in 1875.

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 Methodism was the predominating church order in our neighborhood and services were held with more or less regularity at the old Benson school house, no especial edifice for worship being in existence, but not more frequent than twice a month, usually holding over one Sunday and skipping two.

At that early day the school house stood up on the prairie on which was a growth of tall grass, but a well traveled highway passed by it leading to Logan's mill down near the timber stretch this side of the river. From this highway byroads led to the farm homes, therefore, the school house and temple of worship was not hard of access, though at that early day the general landscape looked wild and cultivated fields presented themselves here and there in the distance upon the commons.

The woods were full of wildlife and creeping reptiles inhabited the prairies and I can testify to the fact that often those in the a-b-c class on their way to school had to leap over the coils of the deadly rattlers that had taken possession of the path, suddenly confronting the youthful pedestrian, and contending against the right of passage. Amid these environs even the child became wary and but few cases are recorded in which the poisonous fang injected its venom.

Sometimes numerous reptiles would, during periods of non-use, crawl into the school house and hold possession of the halls of learning until driven out or exterminated by superior force, ere they had gained a beguiling influence. This condition was of common knowledge and created even less consternation or comment than the fads that have invaded our more modern schools, neither were they much more to be feared. This digression is necessary, as the foundation to the following narrative:

In a previous sketch I have said that old LaGrange was the seat of pioneer Methodism and that the early pastors did not revel in the luxuries of high salaries with which to tempt gouty visitations or gorgeously adorn their persons. In fact it took good maneuvering to make both ends meet and the then pastor, today,  would appear "seedy" before his congregation, which in fact he really was, but on the other hand, it must not be forgotten, his congregation was more or less "seedy" also, thus there was a recompense of harmony.

This year, the Lord and the conference had sent Bro. Morrow to the circuit, a servant with mediocre ability without conceit, but who was willing to give the best he had and worked hard at the job. He never enumerated sermons and was willing to preach so long as he could get listeners.

I remember it was on a Saturday evening after the twilight shadows had gathered that Bro. Morrow was standing up before his audience preparing them for the quarterly meeting, for on the morrow the presiding elder was to be present to preach the big sermon. All was expectation. The dim rays from the tallow dips cast fantastic shadows into the darker recesses of the room and things seemed uncanny and ghostly, with little light to speak of anywhere other than that which the preacher was trying to emanate.

He had worn the tips of one of his shoes through and as he surged forward and backward with the weight of his logic the gape would open and close like the mouth of some living thing. Bro. Harley French, an excitable although earnest communicant, whose habitation was up on the east bank of Honey Creek some distance north of the Bridge crossed by the Mormon Trace, saw this and in the  dim light fancied it to be the head of a poisonous serpent making ready to spring up from its coil to sting Bro. Morrow to death. So he secured a stout cudgel, stealthily stole forward in order not to   precipitate the crisis until he could bruise the serpent's head, according to the command, and brought the cudgel down with a bang on the gaping member.

I don't remember what happened, but I do know there was a commotion of surprise, a few shrieks of pain, some stuttering explanations and the doxology was entirely forgotten amid the humiliation.

Even though the next morning was Sunday, Elkany Widger, who was skilled in such matters, pulled the fangs in Bro. Morrow's shoe and when he appeared at the eleven o'clock service, the gaping opening had been closed with a nice piece of new black leather.

Progressive Christianity ...

I'm a major fan of ProgressiveChristianity.org, which continues the work of John Shelby Spong, retired bishop of the Episcopal Diocese of Newark and a major pot-stirrer in the broad field sometimes known as, you guessed it, progressive Christianity.

So when I arose this morning and went searching for the meaning of life among my social media feeds, I picked this from that organization's Facebook feed.

It's a useful reminder that most expressions of what we call Christianity have played the power game as centuries rolled by, often using violence as a major tool. None are free from guilt and shame on this account.

The major player in the control business these days is often called evangelical, which translates from the Greek (and Latin) as "good news" --- a misapplication of the term if ever there was one.

It's good to remember that the term "Christianity" quite often has nothing at all to do with the teachings of the wandering Jewish teacher and reformer whose name has been appropriated to describe it.

An 1870 "Orphan Train" visit to Chariton

The Children's Aid Society of New York City, founded in 1853 and still operating as a childrens and family services nonprofit in 2020, placed more than 200,000 abandoned, orphaned or neglected children in homes across America between the year of its founding and 1929, when what came to be known as the "orphan train" strategy was discontinued.

The earliest visit to Chariton that I've come across occurred during early November of 1870 and was promoted with the following story, published in consecutive late October editions of The Chariton Democrat:

"A company of boys from the children's aid society of New York, will arrive at Chariton, Iowa, November 4th 1870. All interested in this work of charity are earnestly requested to assist the agent in placing them in homes with the farmers and others living in this vicinity. Those proposing to make applications for children are expected to provide themselves with satisfactory recommendations. The meeting for the distribution of the children will be held at the Presbyterian Church, Friday, November 4th 1870 at 10-1/2 O'clock a.m. The terms upon which the children will be placed in homes will be stated at the meeting, and cannot fail to be satisfactory. The following gentlemen from the committee of reference are now prepared to receive the names of applicants.

"(Signed,) Rev. D.S. Tappen, Robert Coles, D.D. Waynick, Rev. S. Guyer, N.B. Gardner, Thomas Brown, G.W. Blake.

"J.P. Brace, agent children's aid society, No. 19 east 4th street, New York."

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A follow-up story was published in The Democrat of Nov. 8, but no names were given so we do not know with whom these children were placed:

"CHILDREN ARRIVED: On Friday last, a company of fifteen boys and one girl arrived here from New York City, under the auspices of the Children's Aid Society of New York. They were all furnished with parents and good homes."

A brief "filler" paragraph in The Democrat of Dec. 10, 1870, reported that the Children's Aid Society had placed 2,357 children in the West during 1870 at an average expense of $15 each. Since its founding in 1853, the report continued, more than 18,000 children had been placed.

We've got the "Ottumwa Blues" here in Chariton

Or to be more precise, a piece of sheet music entitled "Ottumwa Blues" floated to the surface yesterday at the museum as I was rearranging the contents of an archival storage box. Music and lyrics were composed during 1922 by Ottumwa's Ben B. Westerhoff, who self-published the result.

I set out to find more about Mr. Westerhoff, but with limited success. There's nothing mysterious about him, but he died relatively young (on Sept. 26, 1936), at 46, had never married and when his sister, Merrill, died during 1973 the family line ended and belongings that might have survived were auctioned off.

But here's his obituary, as published in The Ottumwa Courier of Sept. 28, 1936, and that does contain some information:

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Ben B. Westerhoff, 46, if 317 Gara street, Ottumwa musician and composer, died at the Veterans hospital in Des Moines at 3:30 a.m. today. He had been ill about a month and was taken to Des Moines only a week ago.

For about ten years, Westerhoff had been secretary of the local, No. 64, American Federation of Musicians. Active in local musical circles, he played continuously in the Ottumwa Municipal band since 1917. He led his own dance band for a number of years, playing regularly at events throughout this section.

During the Diamond Jubilee celebration here in 1923, Mr. Westerhoff composed "Powder River," accepted as the Ottumwa song. He had composed numerous other pieces, privately published. A  number of them have been used on recent radio programs.

Westerhoff was born Feb. 19, 1890, son of Mr. and Mrs. B.B. Westerhoff, in Ottumwa. He was reared and attended school in Ottumwa where he spent his entire life. He was a member of the B.P.O.E. and O.B. Nelson post, No. 3, American Legion.

Surviving are his mother, Mrs. B.B. Westerhoff, and one sister, Miss Merrill Westerhoff, both of Ottumwa.

The body will be brought to the Lester Jay funeral home where it will remain until time for the services, to be announced later.

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We also know that Mr. Westerhoff was a World War I veteran and was most widely known as a drummer. His parents were Bernard B. and Mabel (Fischer) Westerhoff, both of whom are buried in Ottumwa's Calvary Cemetery. Ben and his sister are buried in the Ottumwa Municipal Cemetery.

And when he was 25, he'd made something of a splash by writing and producing "Ottumwa's Own Movie" --- entitled appropriately enough in a city known for its bridges, "Bridge of Gold."

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Mabel Westerhoff survived her son by four years, dying on Sept. 10, 1940. Merrill, who hadn't married either and was described as a retired bookkeeper when she died, passed on Sept. 28, 1973, age 79.

Miss Westerhoff, who had continued to live on Gara Street until her death, left behind a vast collection of fine antique furniture, glassware and other collectibles that was sold during a two-day auction at the Ottumwa Coliseum on Wednesday and Thursday, Oct. 31 and Nov. 1, 1973, commencing at 9 a.m. both days.

Among the items listed for sale under "Miscellaneous" were a bass drum, a snare drum and "many sound effects."  It seems likely that these had belonged to Ben.

A little belated music for National Coming Out Day

I wanted to celebrate National Coming Out Day (a day late) this morning with a rousing version of Jerry Herman's "I Am What I Am," so spent a few minutes shopping YouTube for just the right version. Straight folks spook easily; I didn't want startle any who might come across this with too much drag and too much glitter.

So this version by the Gay Men's Chorus of Washington, D.C., a couple of years old now, seemed about right.

The song was introduced in the 1983 Broadway production of La Cage aux Folles (music and lyrics by Herman; book by Harvey Fierstein) and has been something of a gay anthem ever since.

National Coming Out Day (artwork created by the late Keith Haring) came along five years later on Oct. 11, 1988, the first anniversary of the National March of Washington for Lesbian and Gay Rights, dreamed up by activist Robert Eichberg and Jean O'Leary.

The idea behind the day was that the simple act of becoming visible was the most effective strategy in the continuing struggle by LGBTQ+ people for a place at the table.

That has proved to be true, but it's a continuing struggle.

And of course for most queer folks, it's an internal struggle. All of us who are "out" and do our best to live authentically have "coming out" stories to tell, some of them quite traumatic.

For many if not most who remain in the closet, the possibility of losing family and friends, influence and position, is an operational fact of life, and most should not be hurried. The exceptions are politicians, preachers and others of influence who use their positions to work against their people.

Bless the parents of today who respond with love and acceptance when a child musters the courage to share his or her truth, no matter how old that child may be.  Gay kids, especially, bear a peculiar and fearful burden in many instances --- in order to live fully and realize their own dreams, they will have to shatter a few of the heterosexual fantasies of their elders.

Where in the world did "Olmitz" come from?

There might have been a slide show of fall photographs from the scenic Olmitz neighborhood in Pleasant Township here this morning --- had I gotten on that track a little earlier. Instead, too much time was spent poking around trying to figure out where in the world the place name "Olmitz"  came from.

Olmitz was a coal mining town with a population of about 500 that developed along Cedar Creek in a fairly remote part of Lucas County beginning in 1915 and continuing until 1926-1927 when the mines that had given it life (known as Tipperary and Olmitz) closed. After that, it vanished as mining families moved  to Williamson or elsewhere and buildings were moved away or demolished for materials.

The town had taken its name from the neighborhood where the mines were developed and that neighborhood had gained its name in 1888 when the Olmitz post office was established some distance north on the David Fluke farm. The map here shows the original location of the Olmitz post office, circled, and the new location a couple of miles south. The post office operated in its first incarnation in the hills north of Cedar Creek from 1888 until 1905, when it was discontinued; then was resurrected at the new location during 1916 and closed for the final time on Nov. 30, 1928.

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There have been, so far as I can tell, only two villages in the United States named Olmitz --- one in Lucas County and the other, a survivor, in Barton County, Kansas. That town was established in 1885 by settlers from the Moravian region of what now is the Czech Republic. It was named after the principal town of the region, Olomouc, translated from Czech to German, Olmutz, then anglicized as Olmitz.

Olomouc is one of those places that has been fought over several times in its long history and, until the end of World War II, had a majority population that was ethnically German. Those Germans were for the most part enthusiastic supporters of Hitler --- renaming the town's principal square after him, destroying the city synagogue on Kristallnacht and aiding, actively or passively, in the deportation of a majority of the city's Jewish population to concentration camps --- and death.

After the war, Olomouc ended up behind what we called the Iron Curtain and Germans were expelled by the Soviet-backed regime in charge of what then was christened Czechoslovakia.

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But none of that explains why Oliver Fluke selected the name "Olmitz" for the post office established in a new store on his father's farm in Pleasant Township, Lucas County, Iowa, during 1888. So perhaps that will remain a mystery.

There were four postmasters at the original site before it was discontinued during November of 1905 --- Oliver Fluke, Joseph Fluke, Allen Cox and Loren Fluke.

Four postmasters served the resurrected post office in Olmitz village --- Lela Kingman, appointed in July 1916; Jay F. Batten, August 1921; Margaret M. Gilman, April 1927; and Eugenia Turner, January 1928 until the end.

Stany Copinsky's grave: A coal mining lament

Stanley (known as Stany) Copinsky's grave in Chariton's Calvary Cemetery has been unmarked now for 106 years although not for lack of mourning.  A brother and two sisters who lived elsewhere in Iowa were on hand for his funeral Mass during late January of 1914 and 300 or so of his fellow miners at Inland Coal Company No. 1, just northeast of town, marched to St. Mary's Church and attended as a group.

But Stany was young, age 22, and single and his family had priorities that must have seemed more pressing than investment in a tombstone. So the Carrara marble altar pieces placed at Calvary during 1965 by the Knights of Columbus will serve this morning instead.

The Chariton Herald reported the young man's death on Jan. 24, 1914, as follows in its edition of Thursday, Jan. 29:

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Stanley Copinsky, a young man who had been employed as driver at the Central mine only a few weeks, met instant death last Saturday about noon. He was making the last trip for the day, as the men quit work at noon on Saturday, when in some manner he fell from a loaded car --- one of a string of three --- and the first car passed over his body and crushed his neck, causing instant death. The remains were brought to Chariton and taken to the undertaking parlors of the Baylor Furniture Co.

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The Chariton Leader of Jan. 29 also reported the death and Henry Gittinger, editor and publisher, watched the funeral procession pass from his office window on North Main Street, then wrote:

It was an impressive procession which passed up Main street, by the Leader office, early Tuesday morning, on its way to attend the funeral of a fellow worker whose life had passed  out owing to one of fate's accidents at the mine. There was a line on either side of the street, near three hundred in all,  and their  solemn march caused reflection.

There is perhaps no fraternal tie stronger than that which binds together the mine workers, forged through common dangers with a consideration and respect worthy of emulation. On occasions like this, the work of the day is suspended and all pay tribute by their presence. Creed and cult and national trait --- the things over which men differ and too often become estranged --- are cast aside and the common brotherhood predominates. Here is one that has prematurely fallen. Who can tell whose turn will come next in view of the hazards which beset the craft.

The remains of Stany Copinsky were taken to St. Mary's Catholic church where Rev. Father James McGillan held requiem, after which the mortal remains were sealed away in Calvary cemetery.

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The men gathered for Stany's funeral had been reminded again of their vulnerability on the Monday afternoon preceding his funeral when the second serious serious accident occurred at Inland No. 1 in under a week.

A young miner named Fred Plows, waiting at the bottom of the shaft, was crushed when a careless attendant up top sent the cage crashing down on top him without sounding the signal that operating protocol demanded.

Although critically injured, Plows eventually recovered --- and collected a settlement from the mining company after filing suit against it.

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Here's Mr. Copinsky's brief obituary, also from The Herald-Patriot of Jan. 29:

Stanley Copinsky was born in Poland on May 16th, 1891. When but an infant he came to the United States with his parents and located in Michigan. He was employed in Mystic for several years, coming from that place to Chariton early in January. This would have been his first full pay envelope. He was a member of the K. of P. lodge at Mystic. He was a quiet, unobtrusive young man, industrious and of good habits, and was well liked by his associates. He is survived by one brother and four sisters, Toney Copinsky of Chicago, Mrs. Ben Stonesh of Zookspur, Mrs. Carrie  Mitchell of Foster, Mrs. Symiracki and Mrs. Bertha Cobacki of Strong, Texas. These sorrowing ones will have the sympathy of the community.

A Soldier of the Cross --- on furlough

 Neighborhood correspondents who reported what used to be called "chicken dinner news" from across Lucas County formed the backbone of journalistic endeavors here until well into the 20th century. Sometimes they were imaginative and enterprising, other times not so much. Only rarely were they identified by name, although everyone in their neighborhoods knew who they were.

The Greenville correspondent of the early 1880s was not only a talented writer, but also a witty one, so his (or her) columns generally are a joy to read. They generally were signed, "Peck." Here's an example from The Democrat-Leader of Jan. 21, 1885:

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N. W. Kendall is a regular attendant at church, and is looked on by some as being a model christian gentleman; when, if the truth was known, he is really no better than some of the rest of us who would pass muster as sinners in any community. A few Sundays since he was approached by the minister with outstretched hand who inquired:

"Are you a member of my congregation?"

"W-e-ll, no-o not exactly," not wishing to insinuate that he belonged to no church at all.

"Oh yes," said the minister, "I understand. But you are a Soldier of the Cross I presume."

"Y-e-es, I-I guess so. I only wish this skirmish with the devil was over, and we had our pay and was discharged."

"Then you're willing to help the good cause until the very end, are you?"

"Yes, sir. I'd like to knock the props from under his Satanic majesty and all of his infernal kingdom."

"Well, here; sign $5 for the conversion of the poor heathen."

"Oh-o-o you see, Brother, I can't."

"What! Can't? I thought you was a Soldier of the Cross."

"Y-e-es I am, but you see I'm on a furlough now."

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Brothers Nathan W. (1842-1925) and Elijah L. (1828-1900) Kendall were well known and highly respected residents of the Greenville neighborhood, both having served as fifers in Company C, 18th Iowa Volunteer Infantry, during the Civil War. That's Nathan (top) with his fife, flanked by drummers, in a photograph that dates from 1921.

They had returned to Greenville after the war and settled down to raise families. Elijah, whose son was Nathan E. Kendall, a future governor of Iowa, eventually moved to Chariton, but Nathan remained a resident of the Greenville-Russell neighborhood until he died.

Neither seems to have been especially religious for most, or all, of their lives. When Elijah died in 1900, his obituary duly reported that, "He never professed any form of religion, but was quick to recognize the great good that religious organizations are accomplishing."

Nathan, however, eventually saw the light --- as reported in his 1925 obituary: "In the tabernacle meeting held in Russell by Rev. William Stough in August, 1909, he was converted and united with the Methodist church." So in the end Nathan did indeed become a dues-paying Soldier of the Cross.

Russell's William Spurling looks back to 1850

William Spurling had lived 63 years in the south of Iowa when he died at the age of 77 in 1914 --- 21 on a farm near Melrose, 21 on a farm southeast of Russell and 21 in Russell. That's his tombstone at left in the Russell Cemetery (thanks, Find a Grave).

Age 14 when he "landed," his knowledge of regional history was first-hand and extensive so we can be grateful that he shared a few paragraphs of it with The Chariton Herald, published as follows in its edition of Feb. 19, 1903:

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Mr. William Spurling, of Russell, is one of the earliest settlers in this part of Iowa, and he has kindly related for the Herald some of the memories of the first years he spent in this part of the state. He says ---

My first recollections of early days in Iowa, in 1850, were in Monroe county, two miles north of where Melrose now is. The town then consisted of a lone cabin, occupied by John Goldsberry, with a spring nearby. The same fall, it was sold to Amos Brown.

The first person I saw after "landing" was Philo Prather, then a beardless boy of 19 or 20. We made a claim within one mile of the now town of Melrose, and went to work to build a house. My father started me out to invite hands in to raise it, and it took me two days to find enough. Two of the men are here now, John and Philo Prather. John Prather was justice of the peace. He married Alonzo Williams and Ellen Martin, but they did not agree and separated. He (John) said it was not his fault, but he never wanted that office again.

Your old people will remember the wet season of 1851, and especially the 22nd of May. I summered at Lagrange and worked there. Some people thought I didn't work, but I drew six dollars every thirty days just the same. There were ten families within ten miles --- eight in the timber and two on the prairie. The first preacher we had was old Bobby Coles, of Chariton, of the Lagrange circuit. He traveled 85 miles to make the round trip.

In the year 1852 there was an Irish boy, William Irvine, landed in our neighborhood. I met him the next day after his arrival at the Amos Brown home, and met him several times afterward. Mr. Brown had a daughter, and I asked her, "What does this mean?" She said, "You don't think I want an Irishman, do you?" But in few days she told me she didn't want a Hoosier either. Spurling and Irvine both live in Russell now.

In 1853, I went to Indiana, and the next year came back, bringing three families of Graves and Mrs. Jones. In 1851, Noah Threlkeld came to Amos Brown's and stayed until he built a house. In 1854, the Gilberts, William and Wells, also Joe Youtsey came. In 1855, Wm. Bernard came and I sold him some rails for $8.25, the largest amount I evr had up to that time.

In 1856, John Currier came and built a mill at the new town of Melrose. In 1851, the nearest blacksmith show was at Chariton, twelve miles away.

There may be mistakes in this recollections, and if so, I will be glad to be corrected. (Herald 19 Feb 1903).

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A couple of other things become obvious while reading Mr. Spurling's account, including the fact that he had a well developed sense of humor.

Here's his obituary, as published in The Herald-Patriot of Jan. 19, 1914, which provides a few more insights into his life and character:

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William Spurling was born October 8th, 1836, at Azalia, Bartholomew county, Indiana, and died January 21st, 1914, aged seventy-seven years, three months and thirteen days.

He moved to near Melrose, Monroe county, Iowa, when fourteen years of age and had resided in this neighborhood for sixty-three years. For twenty-one years on the farm near Melrose, twenty-one years southeast of Russell, and twenty-one years in Russell, where he died.

He was married to Permelia Ball in 1856. She died in 1857. He was again married to Cordelia Brooks in 1859. She died in March of 1904 at Russell. To them ten children were born, Mrs. Ida Lutz of Chariton, who died December 14th, 1908; Cyrus of St. Paul, Minn.; Eva, Alice and Willis of Russell; Mrs. Della Adcock of Chariton; Albert of Towner, S. Dakota; and Charles, Bertha and Minetta, who died in infancy. Seven Lutz grandchildren and seven Adcock grandchildren also survive him.

He and his wife were members of the Christian church at LaGrange, Iowa, transferring their membership later to Russell. He joined the Odd-Fellows order in early war days. The fact that he joined no other secret order, his fifty years of membership, and his expressed wish to be buried by the I.O.O.F. speak to his regard for that order.

Funeral services were conducted at the Christian church on January 24th by Rev. Shipman. The Odd Fellows impressive service was performed at the cemetery.

Mr. Spurling was of a cheerful and optimistic disposition. Had he troubles he kept them from others. He was always looking for the sunshine and not the clouds of life. He was on the lookout for the good in people rather than their faults. He was a home lover and a home maker, temperate and frugal in all things, and he died as he had lived, quietly and peacefully.