– by Betty Jane Wilson, society president
Sources include Yesteryears and the Valley Falls New Era.
“It is said ‘Truth is Stranger Than Fiction’ ” commented Miss Lydia Maria Ring in one of her 1878 columns for the Valley Falls New Era “and we are inclined to believe it true, for in the year (1858), many events showed the truth of this. People now speak of it as ‘the year of the great flood’ and ‘ague and fever’ when referring to the incidents of early pioneer life. This year was also remarkable for its severe storms with the most terrific thunder and vivid lightnings and for their long duration often continuing many hours. . . Never shall we forget the experience of one week, every night of which there was a severe thunderstorm and during each day of the entire week the sun did not show his face. There were many other incidents and events which might be mentioned, but will pass them by and come to the one event in our Kansas experience.
“On the first of December we were solicited to open a select school for the accommodation of the children of the village (there being no public school established at that time). But there had been a number of good schools previous to this. We consented to accept the trust and honor bestowed, provided a suitable room or rooms could be obtained.
“A small house owned by Dr. Northrup was thought to be ‘just the place.’ Very primitive it was, but it had one redeeming quality, a ‘tight roof.’ We took possession, fitted it with primitive benches and desks endeavoring to give it the appearance of a schoolroom as much as possible but with all we could command of fancy taste or art, it was still unlovely and could not be made to look home like. But, we adapted ourself to the situation and entered upon our task with energy and zeal, and with an earnest desire for the success and advancement of the pupils’ committee to our charge.
“Grading classes was out of the question, not having proper tools. Discipline could be maintained even with such imperfect surroundings, but with greater labor and less good results.”
Miss Ring spent nine months in her school, profitable, she hoped to some of her pupils. She was satisfied that some of those who received their first principles in her school occupied prominent positions in life. She wrote about this time (1859), that Miss Parker came from Maine, erected a schoolhouse and opened another school.
“Soon after, we resigned in her favor. We had a prior claim upon the pupils, but she had the schoolhouse, so the ‘Yankee School-Marms’ compromised and both well pleased.
“The first of September 1859, left Grasshopper Falls for Leavenworth and opened a school in pleasant rooms at Seventh and Ottawa streets, was successful in securing pupils, and made an effort to be happy in our new house.”
Next, Miss Ring succumbs to the excitement of Pikes Peak Colorado Gold Fever.
The Valley Falls Historical Society Museum will be open Saturday, July 24, with closing time dependent on indoor and outdoor temperatures.
July 22, 2010
July 16, 2010
Miss Ring: part 4
by Betty Jane Wilson, Valley Falls Historical Society President
Information source: Yesteryears and the Valley Falls New Era
“It came upon us ‘like a thing in the night,’ and ‘twas then we enjoyed our first shake! Though we were getting more than our share of the agreeables of Kansas life,” Miss Ring continued to write in her column her 1858 Kansas recollections for the 1878 Valley Falls New Era.
“We would shake for at least three hours, and the remainder of the day, lay unconscious with a burning fever. And this thing continued, with but short intervals, until sometime in November, when the plague disease, the ague, was forced to ‘vacate the premises’ by King Quinine. It was not a pleasant sovereign, for he erected in our brain his wonderful machinery, setting in motion all manner of disagreeable roaring, buzzing, and rasping sounds (and to this day we have not been able to expel from our ears some kind of a humming machine).
“Nearly every family in town were (sic) shaking or had been shaken, and it was incomprehensible to me how people could speak of it with so much levity and indifference. They would exclaim with all the sang-froid imaginable — ‘Oh, it is nothing but the ague, you will be better when you stop shaking, or be quite ‘shut’ of it tomorrow!’ These, or similar remarks would often cause much merriment, but we could not see where the fun came in. We were truly thankful when we could have an interval of rest. One, having had a good lively old-fashioned shake, can appreciate all that can be said of it.
“Well do we recollect at one time in the month of September, when there could not be found enough well persons to care for the sick. All our own family were down with it. Our help succumbed and was taken home, leaving us dependent on our neighbor, a kind good woman, . . . who became a victim and we were left alone for a day, with no one to give us a glass of water.
“Our sympathy was with the children. Little Willie would come up to our lounge, lay his little golden curly head and pale face by us, saying as plainly as his little chattering teeth would permit, ‘Oh, auntie, I’se sho shick.’ His dear little sister, Ida, was laying beside her mother, both suffering intensely, while the good man of the house, in his room above, was shaking fearfully. His audible breathing was dreadful to hear, yet we thought perhaps is was right and just for him to suffer a little, for his many jokes and teasing propensities at our expense. We are sure he could not make sport of us for that day at least.
But, as we have said before, all things must have an end, so did the ague.
“We have given very minutely the facts in detail, as they occurred to us and for the reason that we would like to have people coming to this country at the present time, 1878, to just realize and understand the great change twenty years has produced. The hardships and privations then endured, 1858, by energetic and unflinching pioneers, can never be known or experienced by the emigrants now coming to Kansas for homes.”
Next, Miss Ring reviews outstanding events of 1858 and her solicitation to open a select school for the children of the village.
Dodie Bolz and Dee Bayless will be museum hosts from 10 a.m. to 4 p.m. Saturday, July 17.
Information source: Yesteryears and the Valley Falls New Era
“It came upon us ‘like a thing in the night,’ and ‘twas then we enjoyed our first shake! Though we were getting more than our share of the agreeables of Kansas life,” Miss Ring continued to write in her column her 1858 Kansas recollections for the 1878 Valley Falls New Era.
“We would shake for at least three hours, and the remainder of the day, lay unconscious with a burning fever. And this thing continued, with but short intervals, until sometime in November, when the plague disease, the ague, was forced to ‘vacate the premises’ by King Quinine. It was not a pleasant sovereign, for he erected in our brain his wonderful machinery, setting in motion all manner of disagreeable roaring, buzzing, and rasping sounds (and to this day we have not been able to expel from our ears some kind of a humming machine).
“Nearly every family in town were (sic) shaking or had been shaken, and it was incomprehensible to me how people could speak of it with so much levity and indifference. They would exclaim with all the sang-froid imaginable — ‘Oh, it is nothing but the ague, you will be better when you stop shaking, or be quite ‘shut’ of it tomorrow!’ These, or similar remarks would often cause much merriment, but we could not see where the fun came in. We were truly thankful when we could have an interval of rest. One, having had a good lively old-fashioned shake, can appreciate all that can be said of it.
“Well do we recollect at one time in the month of September, when there could not be found enough well persons to care for the sick. All our own family were down with it. Our help succumbed and was taken home, leaving us dependent on our neighbor, a kind good woman, . . . who became a victim and we were left alone for a day, with no one to give us a glass of water.
“Our sympathy was with the children. Little Willie would come up to our lounge, lay his little golden curly head and pale face by us, saying as plainly as his little chattering teeth would permit, ‘Oh, auntie, I’se sho shick.’ His dear little sister, Ida, was laying beside her mother, both suffering intensely, while the good man of the house, in his room above, was shaking fearfully. His audible breathing was dreadful to hear, yet we thought perhaps is was right and just for him to suffer a little, for his many jokes and teasing propensities at our expense. We are sure he could not make sport of us for that day at least.
But, as we have said before, all things must have an end, so did the ague.
“We have given very minutely the facts in detail, as they occurred to us and for the reason that we would like to have people coming to this country at the present time, 1878, to just realize and understand the great change twenty years has produced. The hardships and privations then endured, 1858, by energetic and unflinching pioneers, can never be known or experienced by the emigrants now coming to Kansas for homes.”
Next, Miss Ring reviews outstanding events of 1858 and her solicitation to open a select school for the children of the village.
Dodie Bolz and Dee Bayless will be museum hosts from 10 a.m. to 4 p.m. Saturday, July 17.
July 08, 2010
Miss Ring: part 3
by Betty Jane Wilson, society president. Source: Yesteryears and Valley Falls New Era.
"It is still a mystery or puzzle which we cannot solve, how people coming to a new country endure trials, hardships, sickness and privation, leaving behind them pleasant homes, comforts and sometimes luxuries, can even come to be so seemingly happy and contented in almost any position in which they may be placed in western homes,” wrote Miss Ring continuing her Kansas recollections column for the 1878 Valley Falls New Era.
“We remained at the farm and cabin two weeks after the great inundation or until Peter’s Creek could be crossed in safety. For many days, the only way for men to get to the other side was substituting wash tubs for boats. People were obliged to resort to many expedients and inventions in this new world to accomplish their aims and objects never before heard of in a civilized country.
“One morning, about the last of May, we were informed that all arrangments had been made for our removal to the town of Grasshopper Falls. We are now in the cabin helping in preparation for our removal.
“The wagon (a hay cart or some other kind of vehicle) stands at the door and is soon filled to its utmost capacity. A place on the top of the load was prepared for animate luggage including the women and children, chickens and cat as well as all the breakable articles. The cow walked with dignity by our side, thinking perhaps (as did we) of the change from country to town life.
“She forgot her dignity when he eyes rested upon the fine new grass as she came upon the prairie, and the good race which could be enjoyed in the large open fields before her, and no animal ever ran better or seemingly with greater speed. Our escort ran too, not even thinking of the precious freight he was leaving to the mercy of the young oxen propelling us.
“They too were attracted by the sweet new grass and having no fear or responsibility, commenced doing as they pleased . . . turned off the road, making zig-zag movements until we were in danger of having our wagon upset and endangering our lives.
“We could not move, but screamed quite lustily to them to ‘Gee and Haw’ suppose they could not understand us for they were so intent on securing a good dinner. Our driver, seeing the danger that threatened disaster, ran with almost incredible speed, reaching us just in time to prevent the threatened disaster.
“Trembling with fright, but with hearts full of gratitude to a kind providence for our fortunate escape, we proceeded on our way.
“Soon after getting settled in our new home, there came a great freshet. The grasshopper got on a bender (as some of our jolly young men did sometimes). All of the lower part of the town was entirely inundated. Some people were obliged to move from their houses in the night.
“The old grist and saw mill was under water nearly to the roof. It was many days before the ground could be seen and then it was covered with filth and substances of all kinds.
“This was the last of June 1858. Soon after this , we think in August, the ague and fever became prevalent.”
Next Miss Ring relates the agony of the ague and shakes and the eventual beginning of her teaching career.
Roz Jackson and Betty Jane Wilson will be museum hosts in Valley Falls from 10 a.m. to 4 p.m. Saturday, July 10.
"It is still a mystery or puzzle which we cannot solve, how people coming to a new country endure trials, hardships, sickness and privation, leaving behind them pleasant homes, comforts and sometimes luxuries, can even come to be so seemingly happy and contented in almost any position in which they may be placed in western homes,” wrote Miss Ring continuing her Kansas recollections column for the 1878 Valley Falls New Era.
“We remained at the farm and cabin two weeks after the great inundation or until Peter’s Creek could be crossed in safety. For many days, the only way for men to get to the other side was substituting wash tubs for boats. People were obliged to resort to many expedients and inventions in this new world to accomplish their aims and objects never before heard of in a civilized country.
“One morning, about the last of May, we were informed that all arrangments had been made for our removal to the town of Grasshopper Falls. We are now in the cabin helping in preparation for our removal.
“The wagon (a hay cart or some other kind of vehicle) stands at the door and is soon filled to its utmost capacity. A place on the top of the load was prepared for animate luggage including the women and children, chickens and cat as well as all the breakable articles. The cow walked with dignity by our side, thinking perhaps (as did we) of the change from country to town life.
“She forgot her dignity when he eyes rested upon the fine new grass as she came upon the prairie, and the good race which could be enjoyed in the large open fields before her, and no animal ever ran better or seemingly with greater speed. Our escort ran too, not even thinking of the precious freight he was leaving to the mercy of the young oxen propelling us.
“They too were attracted by the sweet new grass and having no fear or responsibility, commenced doing as they pleased . . . turned off the road, making zig-zag movements until we were in danger of having our wagon upset and endangering our lives.
“We could not move, but screamed quite lustily to them to ‘Gee and Haw’ suppose they could not understand us for they were so intent on securing a good dinner. Our driver, seeing the danger that threatened disaster, ran with almost incredible speed, reaching us just in time to prevent the threatened disaster.
“Trembling with fright, but with hearts full of gratitude to a kind providence for our fortunate escape, we proceeded on our way.
“Soon after getting settled in our new home, there came a great freshet. The grasshopper got on a bender (as some of our jolly young men did sometimes). All of the lower part of the town was entirely inundated. Some people were obliged to move from their houses in the night.
“The old grist and saw mill was under water nearly to the roof. It was many days before the ground could be seen and then it was covered with filth and substances of all kinds.
“This was the last of June 1858. Soon after this , we think in August, the ague and fever became prevalent.”
Next Miss Ring relates the agony of the ague and shakes and the eventual beginning of her teaching career.
Roz Jackson and Betty Jane Wilson will be museum hosts in Valley Falls from 10 a.m. to 4 p.m. Saturday, July 10.
June 30, 2010
Miss Ring: part 2
—compiled by Betty Jane Wilson, society president, from the New Era.
Bostonian Miss Lydia Maria Ring, accompanied by her escort (presumably her brother-in-law to whom she referred as “our relative” or “our brother” or even the “tormentor”) as they neared her sister’s home, was assured she would see the falls in all their glory and grandeur.
Miss Ring wrote, “He (the escort) said, ‘You will soon have the pleasure of seeing them and I guess you can hear them roar.’ Upon arriving at the river we were shocked to know that we had to ford so large a stream one half mile in width.
When half across the river (or brook we would have called it at home) the horses came to a sudden halt.
‘Now,’ said he. At the same time stepping up on the wagon seat and striking a tragic attitude. ‘Behold! And admire the wonderful majestic work of our creator.’
Was it himself he was so anxious for us to admire? We came to that conclusion, for he seemed to us as one of the curiosities of the country.
‘There,’ said he, pointing to what appeared a dam with very little water trickling silently over it. ‘Do you not see the falls?’
‘What? That little dam! Are those the grand falls you have been so enthusiastic about? That insignificant little dam?’
‘Don’t be profane or irreverent, Madam.’
We thought how nice and refreshing it will be when we get to our sister’s pleasant, roomy and airy farm house. At last the horses made a sudden halt at what we called a haystack and in the center of it a light that we mistook for a fire and exclaimed, ‘The hay is on fire!’
‘Well,’ said our tormentor, ‘You just get down from there and we will try to put it out.’ ”
Miss Ring had arrived at her sister’s farm house. She described the cabin home.
“It was one very large room with a cooking stove on one side and a large stone fireplace with a flat stone hearth in the other. We came to enjoy all such a country and surroundings could bestow.
The entertainment which caused us the most sincere emotions at the time, was sleeping under a thatched roof! Thought it romantic to look out between chinks in our cabin and count stars and planets and to watch the moon moving in soundless splendor. But such a change one night long to be remembered. The storm and darkness was wondrous strong, but not to us lovely in its strength, for we were awakened from pleasant dreams by water, discolored by smoke and dirt, coming in upon us and the only alternative was to take a milk pan to place under the drippings.
Another little jet made itself felt until six jets and as many pans prepared for them. Even small space was invaded and we called out, ‘What shall I do?’ Then the voice of ‘that man,’ ‘Hold on, guess I must get you an umbrella.’ Which he did.
What was the more vexatious, his laughter resounded through the cabin. . . it was laughable and much more ludicrous to see him dancing about the cabin between jets, but we will insist to this day that it was very ungallant to make himself so merry at our transfixed position.”
Next, the preparation and move to Grasshopper Falls and subsequent adventures
The Valley Falls Historical Society Museum will be open from 10 a.m. to 4 p.m. Saturday, June 26.
Bostonian Miss Lydia Maria Ring, accompanied by her escort (presumably her brother-in-law to whom she referred as “our relative” or “our brother” or even the “tormentor”) as they neared her sister’s home, was assured she would see the falls in all their glory and grandeur.
Miss Ring wrote, “He (the escort) said, ‘You will soon have the pleasure of seeing them and I guess you can hear them roar.’ Upon arriving at the river we were shocked to know that we had to ford so large a stream one half mile in width.
When half across the river (or brook we would have called it at home) the horses came to a sudden halt.
‘Now,’ said he. At the same time stepping up on the wagon seat and striking a tragic attitude. ‘Behold! And admire the wonderful majestic work of our creator.’
Was it himself he was so anxious for us to admire? We came to that conclusion, for he seemed to us as one of the curiosities of the country.
‘There,’ said he, pointing to what appeared a dam with very little water trickling silently over it. ‘Do you not see the falls?’
‘What? That little dam! Are those the grand falls you have been so enthusiastic about? That insignificant little dam?’
‘Don’t be profane or irreverent, Madam.’
We thought how nice and refreshing it will be when we get to our sister’s pleasant, roomy and airy farm house. At last the horses made a sudden halt at what we called a haystack and in the center of it a light that we mistook for a fire and exclaimed, ‘The hay is on fire!’
‘Well,’ said our tormentor, ‘You just get down from there and we will try to put it out.’ ”
Miss Ring had arrived at her sister’s farm house. She described the cabin home.
“It was one very large room with a cooking stove on one side and a large stone fireplace with a flat stone hearth in the other. We came to enjoy all such a country and surroundings could bestow.
The entertainment which caused us the most sincere emotions at the time, was sleeping under a thatched roof! Thought it romantic to look out between chinks in our cabin and count stars and planets and to watch the moon moving in soundless splendor. But such a change one night long to be remembered. The storm and darkness was wondrous strong, but not to us lovely in its strength, for we were awakened from pleasant dreams by water, discolored by smoke and dirt, coming in upon us and the only alternative was to take a milk pan to place under the drippings.
Another little jet made itself felt until six jets and as many pans prepared for them. Even small space was invaded and we called out, ‘What shall I do?’ Then the voice of ‘that man,’ ‘Hold on, guess I must get you an umbrella.’ Which he did.
What was the more vexatious, his laughter resounded through the cabin. . . it was laughable and much more ludicrous to see him dancing about the cabin between jets, but we will insist to this day that it was very ungallant to make himself so merry at our transfixed position.”
Next, the preparation and move to Grasshopper Falls and subsequent adventures
The Valley Falls Historical Society Museum will be open from 10 a.m. to 4 p.m. Saturday, June 26.
June 24, 2010
Miss Ring: Boston to Valley Falls
—by Betty Jane Wilson, society president. (Information taken from the Jefferson County Historical Society’s Yesteryears.)
“Those having the experience of teaching in a new country know that the facilities for teaching successfully would seem almost impossible.”
Words of experience form Lydia Maria Ring, first public school teacher of Grasshopper Falls.
Miss Ring, an extremely literate Bostonian, proved herself a true Valley Falls (Grasshopper Falls) pioneer through a series of columns on her life and travels through Kansas that appeared frequently in the Valley Falls New Era, a predecessor to the Vindicator.
Beginning in March 1878, apparently intrigued by glowing tales of the new territory, Miss Ring wrote, “Left Boston ‘Dear Old Hub’ in April 1858 for the fertile soil and saubrius climate of Kansas.”
Although Miss Ring used the journalistic terms “We, ourselves, etc.,” she evidently traveled alone.
She continued, “We were not favorably impressed upon our first arrival. We landed at Leavenworth late at night, during a pouring rain and not a carriage, dray or even a truck was at the wharf to take ourself or baggage to a place of security, so we were obliged to accept the protection of a stranger as an escort to a hotel, which was the old Shawnee House on Shawnee Street.”
Miss Ring had to bang loudly and persistently to arouse the host only to find no rooms available, including the parlor, which was filled with men. The host routed the men grumbling that it was a shame to disturb so many men for “only one woman.”
Two days later her sister Adaline’s husband, W.C. Hicks, arrived to take her to her new home. Relating the trip, Miss Ring wrote, “The trip to Grasshopper Falls was made in a large lumber wagon. It seemed immense, but it required immense vehicles and immense horses to get through such immense mud! Suppose we should say ‘rich soil.’ We were convinced of newspaper accounts of richness and depth of soil when our wagon wheels were immersed nearly to the hub and the horses knee deep in rich black mud — No! Soil!”
According to Miss Ring, “There were many ludicrous mishaps, jests and not a little merriment at our ignorance as well as readiness to believe the many false representations and glowing descriptions of what we would see and enjoy after a long hard day’s ride. We arrived upon the brow of a hill where we took our first view of Grasshopper Falls. [We] had been told it was a large and flourishing place; and when we said, ‘Do you call that a big town?’ with much gravity, our relative exclaimed, ‘Oh, that is only the suburb you see. It will soon be dark and you will probably not see the town tonight.’
“We then asked, ‘Shall we not see the falls either?’ Answer, ‘Oh, yes, we are not far from them. Do you not hear them roar?’ Meekly, we said, ‘No.’ ”
Part II tells of fording the stream and the revelation of grandeur and roar of falls, town of Grasshopper Falls, and sister’s farm house.
“Those having the experience of teaching in a new country know that the facilities for teaching successfully would seem almost impossible.”
Words of experience form Lydia Maria Ring, first public school teacher of Grasshopper Falls.
Miss Ring, an extremely literate Bostonian, proved herself a true Valley Falls (Grasshopper Falls) pioneer through a series of columns on her life and travels through Kansas that appeared frequently in the Valley Falls New Era, a predecessor to the Vindicator.
Beginning in March 1878, apparently intrigued by glowing tales of the new territory, Miss Ring wrote, “Left Boston ‘Dear Old Hub’ in April 1858 for the fertile soil and saubrius climate of Kansas.”
Although Miss Ring used the journalistic terms “We, ourselves, etc.,” she evidently traveled alone.
She continued, “We were not favorably impressed upon our first arrival. We landed at Leavenworth late at night, during a pouring rain and not a carriage, dray or even a truck was at the wharf to take ourself or baggage to a place of security, so we were obliged to accept the protection of a stranger as an escort to a hotel, which was the old Shawnee House on Shawnee Street.”
Miss Ring had to bang loudly and persistently to arouse the host only to find no rooms available, including the parlor, which was filled with men. The host routed the men grumbling that it was a shame to disturb so many men for “only one woman.”
Two days later her sister Adaline’s husband, W.C. Hicks, arrived to take her to her new home. Relating the trip, Miss Ring wrote, “The trip to Grasshopper Falls was made in a large lumber wagon. It seemed immense, but it required immense vehicles and immense horses to get through such immense mud! Suppose we should say ‘rich soil.’ We were convinced of newspaper accounts of richness and depth of soil when our wagon wheels were immersed nearly to the hub and the horses knee deep in rich black mud — No! Soil!”
According to Miss Ring, “There were many ludicrous mishaps, jests and not a little merriment at our ignorance as well as readiness to believe the many false representations and glowing descriptions of what we would see and enjoy after a long hard day’s ride. We arrived upon the brow of a hill where we took our first view of Grasshopper Falls. [We] had been told it was a large and flourishing place; and when we said, ‘Do you call that a big town?’ with much gravity, our relative exclaimed, ‘Oh, that is only the suburb you see. It will soon be dark and you will probably not see the town tonight.’
“We then asked, ‘Shall we not see the falls either?’ Answer, ‘Oh, yes, we are not far from them. Do you not hear them roar?’ Meekly, we said, ‘No.’ ”
Part II tells of fording the stream and the revelation of grandeur and roar of falls, town of Grasshopper Falls, and sister’s farm house.
May 18, 2010
Valley Falls in 1860
— Compiled by Betty Jane Wilson, society president
The 1960 Valley Falls Senior Class of graduates represented a century of progress in the city and Jefferson County schools.
In 1860, Jefferson County reported 20 school districts. Five of them were in Grasshopper Township (later Delaware Township, city of Valley Falls).
It was not until 1886 that the first high school class was graduated. It consisted of four girls — Maud Myers, Cora Cowen, Elizabeth Fox, and Nelia Hayward.
Almost six-years-old in June 1860, the Grasshopper Falls Gazette lauded the village improvements with the following:
“It is cheering to the heart of everyone identified with the interests of our section of the county, to note the enterprise which is this season being manifested in the line of buildings, fencing, painting, and beautifying of our streets and public grounds.
“Already Grasshopper Falls has an actual population of 400 to 500 persons . . . the present season has brought amongst us many more families, who are stowed away two, three and four in every house. Dwellings are rapidly going up, and many are now making arrangements to build the coming summer and fall. Three residences have been completed within the past three weeks, and eight more are at present in process of erection.
“The only church in Jefferson County looms up upon our town site, and the tones of its bell vibrate through space that has not resounded no other chime than this.
“Our large merchants’ flouring mill — our hotel arrivals are constantly increasing — our merchants are enlarging their storehouses and stocks of merchandise — our schools are constantly augmenting in numbers, and the only free bridge on Grasshopper River will be completed this summer at this place at a cost of five thousand dollars.
“These are facts which must be cheering to every faint heart and tell of the brilliant destiny before us . . .”
— an added half century begets borrowing the popular phrase, “You’ve Come a Long Way Baby.”
Daleen Senn and Mary Maxfield will be museum hosts Saturday, May 22, from 10 a.m. to 4 p.m. Admission is free.
The 1960 Valley Falls Senior Class of graduates represented a century of progress in the city and Jefferson County schools.
In 1860, Jefferson County reported 20 school districts. Five of them were in Grasshopper Township (later Delaware Township, city of Valley Falls).
It was not until 1886 that the first high school class was graduated. It consisted of four girls — Maud Myers, Cora Cowen, Elizabeth Fox, and Nelia Hayward.
Almost six-years-old in June 1860, the Grasshopper Falls Gazette lauded the village improvements with the following:
“It is cheering to the heart of everyone identified with the interests of our section of the county, to note the enterprise which is this season being manifested in the line of buildings, fencing, painting, and beautifying of our streets and public grounds.
“Already Grasshopper Falls has an actual population of 400 to 500 persons . . . the present season has brought amongst us many more families, who are stowed away two, three and four in every house. Dwellings are rapidly going up, and many are now making arrangements to build the coming summer and fall. Three residences have been completed within the past three weeks, and eight more are at present in process of erection.
“The only church in Jefferson County looms up upon our town site, and the tones of its bell vibrate through space that has not resounded no other chime than this.
“Our large merchants’ flouring mill — our hotel arrivals are constantly increasing — our merchants are enlarging their storehouses and stocks of merchandise — our schools are constantly augmenting in numbers, and the only free bridge on Grasshopper River will be completed this summer at this place at a cost of five thousand dollars.
“These are facts which must be cheering to every faint heart and tell of the brilliant destiny before us . . .”
— an added half century begets borrowing the popular phrase, “You’ve Come a Long Way Baby.”
Daleen Senn and Mary Maxfield will be museum hosts Saturday, May 22, from 10 a.m. to 4 p.m. Admission is free.
May 05, 2010
Grasshopper Falls in April and May 1874
—Compiled by Betty Jane Wilson, VFHS president.
The life and times of Grasshopper Falls 20 years after being founded Dec. 25, 1854, the Kansas New Era reports from 1874:
A few items featured in the April and May editions in the language of the editor and assistants included the weather, always a contender for top billing:
“Last Friday morning at 5 o’clock, not a cloud was to be seen. The stars shone with their usual brillancy; but by half past five, the sky was overspread with heavy clouds and the snow was coming down at a fearful rate; at half past seven, it ceased snowing and we measured the depth and found it to be four inches.
“We put up Kansas against the world for doing things in a hurry. During the forepart of the week, we had a man making garden for us, planting potatoes, onions, peas, and all such little things. We would received it as a favor if some scientific gardener would let us know whether such falls are beneficial to newly made gardens.”
“Pete, the irrepressible barber who has been engaged all winter in mowing beards in the Broadway Barber Shop has left us. Our loss is a gain of two for Winchester.”
“The ranks of marriageble young men of our city are being fast depleted by the winsome lasses who capture and bind them in the bonds of matrimony when they will.”
“Our streets are daily lined with the white-sheeted wagons of the immigrants seeking a home in Kansas.”
“The days for picnicing and boat riding, etc., have arrived and Henry Coy, in order to have as much enjoyment as anyone, has had a very fine boat built that will glide over the placid waters of the Grasshopper and carry safely a dozen persons.”
“Take notice: All hogs found running at large on and after 2nd day of May, 1874, will be taken up by the marshal, J.R. Best, City Clerk.”
“Kind and patient reader, we are about to unfold a tale — a narrative a statement — a history of personal wrongs which we have endured and suffered until we were compelled to arise and explain. On last Sunday night, one of our brightest Sunday school scholars put on the seat in church where we were about to sit and attentively listen to words of gospel truth (and the tale is of the same) a pin, bent in such a fashion as only a good little boy knows how to bend one, and we sat down on it. Ordinarily we have perfect control of our feelings, but on this occasion, we gave vent to an expression which we sincerely hope is not recorded against us and then occupied another seat. Sunday school books tell us good boys die young. This is our only consolation and we patiently await the fulfillment of the prophecy.”
Frank and Edie Shrimplin will be hosts at the museum from 10 a.m. to 4 p.m. Saturday, May 8.
The life and times of Grasshopper Falls 20 years after being founded Dec. 25, 1854, the Kansas New Era reports from 1874:
A few items featured in the April and May editions in the language of the editor and assistants included the weather, always a contender for top billing:
“Last Friday morning at 5 o’clock, not a cloud was to be seen. The stars shone with their usual brillancy; but by half past five, the sky was overspread with heavy clouds and the snow was coming down at a fearful rate; at half past seven, it ceased snowing and we measured the depth and found it to be four inches.
“We put up Kansas against the world for doing things in a hurry. During the forepart of the week, we had a man making garden for us, planting potatoes, onions, peas, and all such little things. We would received it as a favor if some scientific gardener would let us know whether such falls are beneficial to newly made gardens.”
“Pete, the irrepressible barber who has been engaged all winter in mowing beards in the Broadway Barber Shop has left us. Our loss is a gain of two for Winchester.”
“The ranks of marriageble young men of our city are being fast depleted by the winsome lasses who capture and bind them in the bonds of matrimony when they will.”
“Our streets are daily lined with the white-sheeted wagons of the immigrants seeking a home in Kansas.”
“The days for picnicing and boat riding, etc., have arrived and Henry Coy, in order to have as much enjoyment as anyone, has had a very fine boat built that will glide over the placid waters of the Grasshopper and carry safely a dozen persons.”
“Take notice: All hogs found running at large on and after 2nd day of May, 1874, will be taken up by the marshal, J.R. Best, City Clerk.”
“Kind and patient reader, we are about to unfold a tale — a narrative a statement — a history of personal wrongs which we have endured and suffered until we were compelled to arise and explain. On last Sunday night, one of our brightest Sunday school scholars put on the seat in church where we were about to sit and attentively listen to words of gospel truth (and the tale is of the same) a pin, bent in such a fashion as only a good little boy knows how to bend one, and we sat down on it. Ordinarily we have perfect control of our feelings, but on this occasion, we gave vent to an expression which we sincerely hope is not recorded against us and then occupied another seat. Sunday school books tell us good boys die young. This is our only consolation and we patiently await the fulfillment of the prophecy.”
Frank and Edie Shrimplin will be hosts at the museum from 10 a.m. to 4 p.m. Saturday, May 8.
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