24 August 1852 Watertown, Jefferson County, Wisconsin

Dearest sister Elizabeth,
I pen this letter to tell you of my marriage to Andrew Storer. Mr. Storer is the boss of the brickyard where our brothers work. Mother and I helped him out for a time there when we first settled here. Andrew’s first wife died in childbirth so he needed a wife to manage the house and yard.

This land is challenging with its harshness. For a time, Mother and I were the only women settlers in the county. Here on this farm, we are isolated. Indians camp on the lands next to us, but they have never bothered us. Wolves howl at night. I am here alone during the day…a shotgun rests by the door. Some days, Mother comes and spends the day with me to help me with the garden and animals. Soon a baby will be joining our family.

This farm is challenging with its harshness. Ever since we left New York after the death of Father, I have yearned for a home of my own…some place to settle. The log cabin is cold and severe. Mother reminds me that it needs a woman’s touch…but how? The garden is overrun with weeds and yields little. I feel as if I am always at the beginning of something, some place, some time that never gets finished. God, give me the strength to push on and do.

This soul searching is challenging with its harshness. At times, I feel so isolated. I yearn to fill my evenings with books to read, with yarn to knit, with the company of others with whom I can converse. Mother reminds me that I am an adult woman of 19…time for me to take my lead.

I am asking you, dearest sister, to pray for me and my Andrew. We only knew each other for a few months before we wed, and I am soon to be a mother. I need heavenly guidance as I make my way for my family. Pray for me as I do for you.

Your loving sister,
Mary Etta

Note: Mary Etta Soule was my second great grandmother. In July, 1852, she married Andrew Storer. After Wisconsin, they would move on to the Minnesota Territory, Iowa, and finally make a home in Kansas. She was ready to conquer the days of challenges, troubles, and trials. She was home at last.

October, 2023 Chambersburg, Franklin County, Pennsylvania

All the tickets had been sold so it was a full house of the curious, the believers, the skeptics. They were assembling to take a tour of the old county jail. What would they learn, see, and hear? The ticket holders were told a story…

More than a hundred years ago, an inmate gazed outside this cell window. His name was Bill Reed. He had only a week to live. There were children playing on the lawn next door. He called out to them and bid them a good day. He studied the clouds and relived what had happened that day in May, 1911. Dressed in a new suit, hat, and shoes, he had gone to the Mont Alto School of Forestry. He wanted to find his old girlfriend Sadie. She had a precious momento of his, and he wanted it back. When he found her in the school’s kitchen, he demanded that she get the item. She taunted him and threatened to throw it in the fire. As she turned to throw it in the flames, he shot her…he wanted to scare her. He fled. He knew he had hurt her bad.

The story continued as the ticket holders shivered in the dampness of the jail…as they heard sounds…as they heard movement. “Is that you, Bill?” the guide asked. “Yes,” came a whisper.

That next April, 1912, Bill was found guilty of first degree murder and was sentenced to death. A gallows had to be borrowed from a neighboring county. He spent his final days at his cell window contemplating his fate. Why hadn’t Sadie just given him the picture he asked for…the picture of him in his Spanish American War Army uniform…he was so proud of his service? “Just return the picture, Sadie,” kept going through his mind. And so, one day in April, 1912, Bill Reed walked out to meet his Maker. He would be the last man hung in Franklin County, Pennsylvania, for murder.

As the story ended, the ticket holders who made up that full house walked among the spirits of the old jail…among those spirits walked Bill Reed.

Note: Bill Reed is my husband’s 2nd great uncle. Researching his story started when I found his death certificate. It stated that his first vertebrae was broken due to execution. Now the hunt was on for the whole story. Tons of newspaper articles were found written in a sensationalized style.

28 April 1917 Kenneth, Sheridan County, Kansas

Dearest sister Franny,
Once again, my life is taking new me in a different direction. This has been a most difficult decision. I will be leaving Kansas and moving with my daughter Jennie and family to California. I feel as if I have spend most of my life just wandering…settling down for a few years…then moving on. Since my Henry passed, I have been set adrift…not sure when I will touch shore again.

Remember all those years ago when I left Illinois with Father and Mother and the young children? You remained in Chicago to be a domestic servant with the Pierce Family. Then you met and married Dr. Read, and your world changed. Me…I was 14 years old, and I traveled by wagon train across the prairies to Kansas. It all seems like a dream. Change was coming for me, too.

Now, here I am in Kenneth (Kansas) and daydreaming where life is taking me. I sold Henry’s livery business to a young man. I am taking the money and going to a far off place named Riverside, California. This time, I will be taking a different kind of train…a railroad one. We will be traveling over 1,200 miles…I have never gone so far. A change is coming for me.

Why are we making this change? Promises of warm, sunny days versus the hard winters of the plains…jobs and opportunities versus uncertainty… new beginnings versus old lives. Once as when I am leaving Illinois as a young girl, I am now leaving Kansas as an old woman for the golden promises of California. A change will be waiting at the the train station for us.

When we get settled, I promise to write to give you my new address. I promise to tell you of the glories of golden California.

All my love,
Your sister Lottie

Note: Lottie (Charlotte) and Franny (Frances) Boultinghouse were my great grandaunts. They maintained most of their sibling relationship through letters. They were parted at a young age so only these missives could keep them connected. Lottie was married to Henry Korb while Franny was married to Dr. John Read. A most pair loving of sisters…

May, 1871 Somewhere in Kansas

“At least, ten miles today…at least, ten miles today…at least,” commanded the voices in my head. Some days the grasslands and trails are wide and open while some days they are treacherous enough to slow us down. Oh, at least, ten miles today.

The voices in my head kept repeating conversations between myself and my farm neighbor. “Old man,” I could hear him say, “what are you doing? You’ve got a homestead here in Illinois. You’ve got married children and grandchildren here who will not be moving on. You’ve got youngins to raise. Didn’t I hear tell that a new baby is on the way? So, you want to pick up and drag your family across the way to Kansas for free land…why, your pa fought off Indians to keep this free land right here for you.”

As I looked out across the grasslands, I brought my mind back to the present. We had to cover at least ten miles this day on the wagon train. My family and I had to make it in time to settle in somewhere before the baby came. Walk, push on, keep going…I hear these words over and over as I watch over my family. We will be getting off the wagon train at Fort Leavenworth, a protected place to stay until we get supplies and are ready to finish the trip.

As we walked with the wagon and wife Mary rode, I kept my eyes on the horizon. At least, we have gotten this far…just over yonder is our new home.

~Amos H. Boultinghouse, 53 years old

Note: Amos is my second great grandfather who settled his final home in Osborne County, Kansas. After arriving in the county, his wife Mary gave birth inside a tent. Mary was French so the new son was named Lafayette. Why did Amos leave their home in Illinois? The reason is unknown.