6 June 1823 White County, Illinois

As I stepped out of our dwelling, my eyes survey the vastness of the skies. I look across the horizon to predict what the day will bring. Before me lie endless prairies. This way of living is a challenge to womankind. Mother to my 5 year old son Amos and 9 year old daughter Matilda, I face this day alone without benefit of spouse…my Dane died in April. He was a good man, a fearless man, a God-respecting man.

This past week, I went with my stepson to Carmi, which is the county seat. The courthouse is in a cabin. We made our way there so I could settle my Dane’s debts. I was scared and nervous as these matters were foreign to me, but it was necessary to do so. The clerk told us it is called probate, and these affairs needed to be settled. The last matter to be settled in Dane’s name has been completed.

And now, I try to envision the future and all the challenges set before me. The care of my two younguns weighs heavily on me. My grown stepsons will help us with the farming, patrolling for Indians, procurement of food. I dream of evenings spent by the fire as I recite from memory the tales my Dane told of his service to his country in the Second War For Independence (War of 1812)…of the time he was asked by Governor Edwards to form a company to patrol the Indians. I will also recite the tales of how Dane’s father stood with General Washington in that first War for Independence. I will pray that the courage and fortitude these men had will be carried over in the lives of my children, Amos and Matilda.

And so I pledge myself to face these challenges, despite any and all hardships.

~Rhoda (Howell) Boultinghouse

Note: Rhoda Howell Boultinghouse was my third great grandmother. How she faced the challenges of raising her children alone I will never know. After her appearance at the White County Courthouse in 1823, little else is known of her. Her son Amos would follow in his father’s and grandfather’s footsteps as he became a veteran of the Civil War. He was a member of the 55th Illinois Infantry.

1 March 1895 Alton, Osborne County, Kansas

Dearest sister Ella Jane,
With our father’s passing comes the last chapter in our parents’ life story. Mother has been gone these eight years and Father just a few months. So much happened in those years between that may have been overlooked by others. No recounting in Father’s obituary…no mention of this part of his story. Overlooked but not forgotten by most others in our family.

When Mother died in 1887, Wash, Frank, Fred, and I were left alone with Father on this big farm. Little Fred was only 11 and Frank was 16…Brother Wash was 22 while I was 26. Father was too far into grief so I stepped forward to be a maternal figure to our youngest brothers. Suddenly, I was the main caretaker of not only my brothers but the house, gardens, and some of the livestock. A few months after Mother’s death, Father’s sheep farm started to lose money so he sold off his livestock to a farmer in Nebraska. Not only did he lose Mother, he lost the mainstay of the farm.

The good news was…some of the Mennonite farmers in the area were advocating the growing of wheat. They stated Turkey Red wheat could resist droughts and the harsh Kansas winters. It could be harvested in early summer. These farmers had had much success with their crops. There was this ray of hope that Father dared not overlook. He succeeded in saving the farm.

Since you moved to Montana, we have not written back and forth as often as we can. I am happy to report that the young boys are now young men so my job of raising them is done. The farm is doing well under the management of our brother Wash. I have started to step out with our neighbor Frank Whitaker by attending barn dances and socials with him. Hope appears on our horizons.

May this letter find you well and happy.

Lovingly your sister,
Hattie Mae

Note: Hattie Mae Storer was my second great aunt. Her parents were Andrew and Mary Etta (Soule) Storer. Hattie Mae did marry neighbor Frank Whitaker. They remained in Kansas for the rest of their lives. They would be neighbors to her brother Wash and his family.

22 November 2016

Dear Keith,
Friends together for over 50 years, your mama and I had many girlhood and teenage adventures and misadventures. We were the original Laverne and Shirley. Yep, that was us.

Did you ever wonder how your mom got the longstanding nickname of “Cleo”? Did you know she pinned it on herself? Let me tell you about how that came about…

In 1963, we were just entering adolescence. The neighborhood gang of guys and gals would go to the movies every week. James Bond movies were tops on our list. There were also movies that our parents said we could not go to…too adult…like the movie “Tom Jones” was on the forbidden list. Also on the list was Cleopatra, starring Elizabeth Taylor and Richard Burton. Liz and Dick had provided the world with a paparazzi view of the whole love affair scandal. So our parents axed that one off the list.

That summer with that movie and Liz Taylor in mind, your mom stated that she was just as attractive as Cleopatra…that Cleo had nothing on her…why, just look around at her loyal followers. So, Cathy became Cleo. She insisted that was her name, and it stuck. Fondly, I called her by that name for the rest of her life as did others. (By the way, back in those days, kids often had nicknames with quite different birth names. One never knew someone’s real name until their graduation picture appeared in their senior yearbook.)

In sharing memories with you of your mom, I want you to realize that she was someone beyond being your mom. She was a crazy teenaged girl who loved her friends. She was a woman who cherished her friends forever. Then after growing up, she became a mother who was eternally proud of her three children. And so, I remember my best friend Cleo.

Love always,
MaryAnne

Note: Cathy Irene Covert and I were best buds who always stayed in contact and visited one another even after I moved to Pennsylvania at the age of 15. We told stories together…we laughed over our antics and misadventures. We talked about the day we would be old ladies, sitting on the porch in rockers retelling those stories. That day never came…I know Cleo is waiting in heaven so we can finally do that.

His Story:
Cowboy dreams…Wild West…broncos…gunslingers on the street: that was my young childhood world. A Christmas gift of an outfit that would take me through many adventures along with my neighborhood sidekicks and fellow mavericks. We had shootouts and hideouts. We drank Kool Aid to quench our thirst…Kool Aid served up by favorite gal, my mom. We ate peanut butter and jelly sandwiches to slake our hunger. Patrolling the streets, we made sure our homes were safe. Favorite dogs rode by our sides. We wanted to emulate our favorite Western hero, Gene Autry. It was all in the day’s work of a cowboy.

~Dan Haffner
Waynesboro, Franklin County, Pennsylvania
Remembering 1952

Her story:
Cowgirl dreams…Wild West…fast horses (tricycles)…guts and courage: that was my young childhood world. A birthday gift of an outfit that would fuel my imagination and play. I rode with the best of them in our neighborhood. Desperadoes, we took the sidewalks as our own trails to blaze. From sunup to sundown, we heehawed and “Hi yo, Silver, away” as a tribute to our hero, The Lone Ranger. It was all in the day’s work of a cowgirl.

~MaryAnne Slabik
Falls Church, Independent City, Virginia
Remembering 1955

Note: These pictures are among the childhood memories of my husband Daniel and myself. We would ride the trails of love and marriage for 50 years. We await our grand trail ride and reunion in the skies of Heaven.