Kit Carson County, Colorado |
Andrew and Abigail (Brown) Boger, son Frank P. and Flora (Stutts) Boger, son Edward Boger, 6 South 48 West
The family has written wonderful stories: Mabel (Frankfather) Boger's description of Andrew Boger was that he was 5' 10", fair complexion, gray eyes, light brown hair and weighed 180 pounds. His photographs show that his eyes were very light gray. Vernis Boger, grandson of Andrew Boger, tells of hearing stories about someone telling Grand Dad that he wouldn't be able to stay away because "railroading was in his blood and he couldn't get away from it." Grand Dad's answer was that he would go far enough that he couldn't hear a train whistle. Vernis wrote, "Around Bald Eagle, Pa. there wasn't much of a way to make a living but to farm small fields with horses and oxen, or work in a coal mine or work on the railroad. A number of the Boger's chose the railroad, but Andrew was not one of them. He never worked on the railroad and when he decided to go West in search of flat land to farm several of the family said, 'Oh! You will be back for railroading is in the Boger blood so you will be back!' That was when he said he would 'find a spot far enough from the railroad that he couldn't hear a train whistle.' Wyatt came back from a visit to Pennsylvania and reported that he had been told that at one time a train ran out of Altoona, Pa. and all members of the crew were Boger's. My dad (Frank) told of firing an engine for a short while on some railroad when he was young but he thought the life of a cowboy beat that." Many of the Boger's who lived in the Bald Eagle Valley in Pennsylvania were railroad men. Andrew left that valley by 1858, when he first turns up in records in Warren County, Illinois, paying taxes on a lot for his brother Joseph. When the census taker came around two years later, he was a newlywed. In a letter from Wyatt Boger to Mr. E.E. Boger of Myersdale, PA, dated 30 Apr 1927, he writes, "Father went into the stock business and had a good large number of stock, cattle and hogs at the time of the Civil War and was not in a position to volunteer early in the game, so he hired a man for $700.00 to take his place until he could shape his affairs and go himself. After he had arranged his affairs, he enlisted and went into service and was injured and returned home. His man whom he hired went thru without a scratch. So in a way, father performed a double service in that war." 1872 when son Wyatt was born, the family lived in the vicinity of Viola, Mercer County, Illinois, one mile south and 1/4 mile west on the south side of the road. I have a letter in file from Benjamin Franklin Morey, father of Rose Anna Brown's second husband, to Andrew Boger. Andrew had just moved to Chester, Nebraska the previous March. Andrew and Abigail worked for B. F. Morey as farm laborers and that is how they met. "Viola, Dec 18th 1886, Mr. Boger, Dr Sir I rec'd yours of the 18th found us all well and I am much obliged for your kindness but I shall not for a short-time yet for fear of cold bad storms and it will be crowding on you and C for I shall bring five or six head of Horses and may be two Colts. I will get you a Pig. We are having some cold weather and some snow enough for Poor Sleighing Old Man Dudley is to be buried to day he died in Rock Island. corn is worth 48c to 42c pr bushel some shipped in from Iowa at 42c hay 8 to ten dollars per Ton Straw two dollars per ton Hogs 3 1/2 to 3 3/4 per hundreds. Old Man Ramsburg spoke to me yesterday and wanted me to go and see that place of his little girls near Chester got a letter from Charley last night He thinks he has a place near him that is all right. There is a good many that wants to sell here now J. B. Longley is anxious to sell all or part of his land he has no corn this year. Oats and Hay very good. Ira is sick of his bargain he has no crops this year. W.Z. Henry has sold to John Mack could not learn the price he says 45-per acre but I do not believe it. nothing more Yours B. F. Morey." I'm not sure just why this particular letters was saved when there are so few letters in file. Wyatt writes of his father Andrew the he was quite a reader, good in arithmetic and a good writer. In a description of Andrew Boger, Bertha Boger wrote, "Andrew Boger, blue eyes, met Abigail Brown at Cameron, Ill. both worked for Benjamin Franklin Morey- farm laborer at Viola - Moved to Kansas 1 mile west 4 miles south Chester, Neb., 31 Mar 1886-- farmed there. Moved to Colorado 15 north 1 mile east of Seibert to farm 1902. Woodsman, with ax made ties for old Hannibal & St. Jo Railroad. Uncle Frank has account book showing account of contract and execution of it-- ties for railroad. Andrew 5' 11" weight about 220 -- enlisted at Cameron or Monmouth -- discharged for disability. Hurt in side- rail fence broke down. Ninety-day enlistment but served less. Co. E, 102nd Ill. Union Army Illinois Volunteer Infantry. At enlistment he was dealing in livestock and had large number of cattle." I have a bank deposit receipt in file for $887.55 for the account of A. Boger at the Commerce First National Bank Hebron, Nebr. made by Stoller Live Stock Com. Co. dated 12 Oct 1905. Included in the envelope is a calculation in Andrew's handwriting for the stock sold less freight, etc. "Seibert Colo Sep 7 - 1906 Wyatt [from Ed] We have some wind now jumps at night some. Have some of the cattle at home some at the river. We have been busy with the millet and cane this week some of the cattle came home. We have about a half days cutting to finish the cane millet all up Could nt say when i would be in town vary busy. Will try and get our Cattle home this week. A.C. is not vary favorble spoken of at this place i dont think i will serve as a delegate although i may be a the convention but my buisness is in such a shape that i couldnt promice t go. One demecrat said he would support Gates but when he heard that the other officers were going to try again he gig back he said it look like they had formed a ring You can look for a hard snow storm about Nov 6th the storm Cdnter will be seibert. Will the Dutch get any thing this time Frank thinks there isnt a vote this side of the republian for A. C. well if you want to talk the poitical situation over with me come down --- boys are going to the races up in Neb. and take some horses with them to sell. Ed." A letter written by Andrew Boger to his son Wyatt, "Seibert August 22 1912 Wyatt I wasnt gon to sighn this note and hand to Mr. Gates Franks Baby wsas all right tuesday i was there i am stacking wheat now. A Boger." Wyatt responded, "I hope that Frank's family is getting along well again. Straud McNeill told me that Frank had a Cope doctor for the baby, so I presumed that it was not getting along well." Andrew's cattle brand BJ with a bar under it has been immortalized by Westward Ho Barbecue Rodeo pattern, on their chop plate described as item number WHR108 chop plate 13 inches. In 2001, this item sells on the secondary market for over $200. Reproductions are available and sell for almost as much. In a company brochure, it is described as, "Typically Western, Rodeo Dinnerware is designed by one of America's outstanding Cowboy artists, Till Goodan. The background is buckskin color with bucking broncos, cowboy and action roundup scenes in saddle brown, and two colors hand decorated. Unusual continuous border trim is authentic cattle brands of famous ranches." When this dinnerware was made, the brand was registered to Frank Boger, listed in the brochure as BJ Bar, Frank P. Boger, Seibert, Colorado. Vernis wrote in 1992 to Joyce (Boger) Miller about Andrew Boger's move to Colorado, "You are right about the oil shack, it was our cob house - kept the corn cobs dry for kindling fires. It was what Grandma and Grandpa (Andrew & Abigail) camped in while they were getting the sod house built. Look at some of your snapshots of the barns and corrals before your dad built the present barn. The little barn on the east side of the barn yard just north of the 'round pen' (pole corral) was Uncle Ed's homestead shack where Mother and Dad (Frank & Flora) lived with him when they first came to Colorado. It was a little over 1/2 mile south on the east side of the road. That's where they lived until they got the soddy built. They hauled water from a spring in Hell Creek, which was a little over 1/2 mile west of our house. Your barn was built with material from the 'round pen,' telephone poles, the horse barn, cow barn and Uncle Ed's homestead shack, plus some other stuff. " In Vernis' autobiography, he wrote, " Then our family routine was suddenly changed. Grandfather Andrew and Grandmother Abigail could no longer manage their homestead by themselves. Ellis and John had been taking turns staying with Grandfather and Grandmother, helping with the farming and chores. Now Grandfather and Grandmother moved down to live with us. Ellis was put in charge of Grandfather's homestead, where he batched and took care of a herd of horses for Father. He also did the farming. On November 20,1920, Grandmother Abigail died. She had been quite ill for a few weeks and Mother, with the help of Mrs. Minnie Iler, a neighbor lady, had been caring for her. I remember Grandmother's funeral, which was held at our house. Then she was taken to Burlington for burial. Fannie and I didn't go to Burlington and I don't believe my brothers did either. Grandfather had suffered a slight stroke a short while before and was somewhat confused in mind but he could pretty well take care of himself, dressing, eating and walking. He did lots of walking. He had a companion on his walks, a little gosling, which was the only one hatched that year. Whenever Grandfather walked out of the house the gosling was there waiting for him. They would walk to the barn and hog pens, then to the mailbox. Grandfather would talk to the gosling and the gosling would chatter back just as though he understood. On December 2, 1920 Grandfather died. There was another funeral at our house and Grandfather was taken to Burlington and buried beside Grandmother. The gosling that had almost grown full size waited and waited just outside the kitchen door for Grandfather to come take a walk, couldn't understand why he was left alone. He seemed to think if Grandfather couldn't come out Fannie and I shouldn't come out either. He became so mean that we didn't venture out if he was in sight. " A letter in file from Myrtle (Morey) Warren [Andrew & Abigail's foster daughter- a child of sister Rose's husband's first marriage] to Mabel Boger dated 16 Jan 1962 from 860 No. Dean, Bushnell, Ill. Box 116, "... I was just thinking not long ago of the old Brown Bible and the coin, I have it. I gave it to the folks for their 50th Wedding anniversary & Flora sent it to me for my 50th anniversary, which was in 51. She wrote me that Pap [Andrew Boger] asked her to send it to me if I had a 50th anniversary. But I don't remember about the dishes. Walter had some old Canadian coins in a little pink bag. But I can't find them, I've looked several times." I cannot tell by this letter if she had the Bible AND the coin. I'm guessing it was James Madison Brown's Bible, and who has it now is anyone's guess. Myrtle did not have children, so who inherited her things? Vernis Boger wrote in 1991, "Dad [Frank Boger, son of Andrew and Abigail (Brown) Boger. Abigail's sister Rose was stepmother to Myrtle] always considered Myrtle his sister, and although she was a foster sister to him, we kids were always taught that she was Aunt Myrtle and we were proud of her. B.F. Morey had a large family, as I remember the story, and Myrtle was a younger daughter. Myrtle had an older brother Bert that visited us at the ranch when I was small. He had his wife and several children in a covered wagon. Another brother Clyde, younger than Myrtle, came out to visit us at Colorado Springs after Dad died. Clyde's wife and Myrtle were with him. Wyatt was there too that day. Clyde and Myrtle were living at Bushnell, Ill. at that time. Myrtle's sister Maude and her husband, Sylvester Logue, lived at Cope, Colo. where they raised two daughters and I believe, a son. They moved back to somewhere in Kansas. (1907 Yuma "Jacob Logue of Barretts, Iowa, is out looking over Western Yuma county with a view of buying." 1919 Akron, Colorado "E. E. Brown and son Clarence and Misses Alta Logue and Marian Campbell all of Cope, Colo., were transacting business in Akron Saturday." In 1920 Cope precinct, Sylvester is 47, Maude 45, Alta 19, Floris 17, and Buelah 15. "Alta married Fred Vaseka and they are buried at Flagler, Colo." "Elsie Ann (Craig) Winder was born in a sod house on the family homestead near Cope, Colorado, on July 16, 1932, to Frank and Flona (Logue) Craig. She passed away Friday, October 6, 2013, at Deseret Nursing Home in Kensington, Kansas, at the age of 81. Elsie spent her early years in Cope and then in 1944 came to Oberlin in the sixth grade. There she met her future husband, Earl, in 1947. She worked as a waitress at the Temple Café and finished school at Decatur Community High School. Earl and Elsie married May 20, 1950, in McCook, Nebraska. They made their home in Oberlin and became parents of a daughter and three sons. Elsie continued working at the café part-time and became a full-time homemaker. She raised their children and worked right alongside of Earl as he began some minor tree trimming that gradually expanded to form Winder Tree Service. Scouting was a part of the family program. Elsie was a den mother and Earl an assistant scout master. They loved to travel and visit with family. Elsie was a member of the United Church of Oberlin and Rebekah Lodge. Survivors include daughter and son-in-law, Jerri Lee and Bob Fogg of Riverside, CA; two sons, Bruce Winder of Oberlin and Kent Winder of Joplin, MO; sister, Darlene Marie (Craig) Hilton of Oberlin; eight grandchildren: Tim Fogg, Melissa DeNardo, James Winder, Eric Winder, Ayla Tschetter, Evan Rachelle Winder, Alexus Winder, and Kaitlyn Winder; six great-grandchildren: Alayna and Rebecca Fogg, Cameron and Caelyn DeNardo, and Carmen and Cheyenne Winder. Elsie was preceded in death by her parents; a son, Evan Raye Winder; six brothers, Junior, Jack, Farrold, Floyd, Jim, and Duane; and three sisters; Florence Hatfield, Ella Richter, and Peggy Gillette. Funeral Service: Monday, October 14th at 10:30 a.m. at the funeral home in Oberlin with Rev. Bill Duncan officiating" ) Myrtle married Walter Warren when the Boger's lived at Chester, Ne. where Walter worked on the track crew of a railroad for a while and later for the street department of the city of Lincoln. Myrtle worked as a clerk in a clothing store until moving to Bushnell, Ill., where they were live-in caretakers for an old lady. I believe they are both buried there. I visited Aunt Myrtle and Uncle Walter at their home in Busnell, Ill., in May of 1940 while on my way home from my first hitch in the navy. One day she and I drove up to Viola, Ill. and visited the Stoner family who lived about a half mile from where Dad was born and raised. Old Mr. Stoner filled me in on some of the shenanigans that Dad was in when he was growing up. From what I gathered, I guess the Boger boys kept things lively in the community. We also saw the Pope school where Dad and his brothers went to school. The original building had burned, but a new one was built on the same spot. Mr. Stoner's granddaughter was to be the teacher that year." ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Joyce (Boger) Miller wrote, "Dad said that Frank and Ed first came to Colorado in 1885, then spent approximately 8 years making excursions back and forth between here (homestead at Vona) and Chester. They ran a mule train between the mining town of Cripple Creek and the Springs (Colorado Springs was called Colorado City then), carrying supplies to the miners. They also did mining and worked on ranches in the Colorado Springs area. When they chose this spot for the homesteads, they lived here by Squatters Rights and had a dugout for their home. A dugout is a manmade cave dug back into the side of a hill. Some homesteaders lived in them until they could get buildings erected." In his autobiography, Vernis Boger wrote, "Father Franklin Pierce and his brother Edward Everett, left their farm home at Chester, Nebraska about 1892 or 1893 to look over some of the western country they had heard about. Frank made it to Seattle, Washington and back to Colorado Springs, Colorado at the little town of Eastonville, East of Colorado Springs. He joined Ed and they worked on the GAW ranch for a while as cowhands. "In 1893, they came east to what is now Kit Carson County, Colorado, and Ed filed on a homestead located twelve miles north and one mile west of Vona. Frank, and I believe Ed too, returned to Chester, Nebraska. They did farm work for various neighbors as well as their father, Andrew Boger. Shucking corn was a way of earning some money and they were both good at it. At the customary one cent per bushel a good corn picker could earn one dollar a day, which at that time was very good pay. "Then Frank met Flora Iowa Slutts the daughter of H. J. and Mary Jane Watson Slutts. They were married December 25, 1895 at the H. J. Slutts farm home three and a half miles north of Belleville, Kansas. Frank and Flora remained in that area until the following March of 1896. Then with a covered wagon, one team of work horses and Franks old dun colored cow pony 'Butler,' they departed for Colorado. How many days they were on the road, I don't know. Mother told of having prairie chicken, rabbits and antelope for fresh meat, which they cooked over buffalo chip fires." Joyce (Boger) Miller supplied a quote from a letter written by Flora March 27, 1896, "Dear People, We are settled in our little shack in grand style. We drove down here the 25th and eat all alone. We have had lots of fun and this isn't such a bad country after all. Of course there isn't much but buffalo grass and cactus to see now but we will try to make one ranch worth looking at. We got along fine on the road but we only had three nice days. We were only ten days and a half on the road. We stopped at Ezra Couchman's to water our horses. He was scouring his corn planter when we got there. The people in western Kansas do not take much pains with their farming, if they did they would have better crops. I have our grub box up in the corner for a cupboard and we have a little home made table and a little stove that we borrowed to use until we went to Eastonville. The stove is a no. 7. My bread pans are too large for the oven. Ed got all the lumber in this part of Co. He had the roof on and the floor down. As far as the lumber went. We only have to haul water two miles. We can get water for the horses about three quarters of a mile from here. The claim Frank is going to get is a nice one. I am anxious to get our soddy built so I can start work in earnest. I am trying to bake bread but would be afraid to offer it to Boss for fear he would feel insulted. Frank is cleaning house. We were pretty lucky on our trop. It cost us $9.28. Ed said the Buckskins looked better than they did when Frank left there. Love to all, Flora." "After two or three weeks they arrived at the homestead of Ed Boger, which was twelve miles north and one mile west of Vona, Colorado. Dad and his brother hauled lumber from Haigler, Nebraska to use for Ed's 'shack' and for the roof on the sod house. They, with the help of younger brother Wyatt Andrew Boger, built on Frank's homestead, thirteen miles north and one mile west of Vona, Colorado. This was the NE quarter of section 33 township 6 range 48 west." Joyce (Boger) Miller wrote, "In the early days, many of the homesteaders traveled to Haigler, Nebraska, for supplies. The Boger ranch was often an overnight stopping place for many of these travelers. There were few fences in the early days and during storms cattle often drifted in from as far away as Akron some hundred miles to the northwest of here. The ranch also afforded protection for ranchers hunting their strays or cowboys on round-ups. Flora always had a big pot of meat on the stove for the travelers and cowboys." Vernis continued, "While still living with Ed in his homestead 'shack,' Mother (Flora) was left alone for the day while Frank and Ed were away on a trip. Mother saw someone afoot come over the hill a mile southwest of Ed's shack. This was alarming for her, for unless they were thrown from their horse, cowhands or anyone else didn't venture out on the prairie afoot. The breed of range cattle didn't like humans afoot. There was mostly no trouble while on a horse or in a wagon, but range cattle took offense of people on foot. This person would run aways then walk aways and keep repeating this. Mother concluded it had to be some demented person to be afoot and acting so strangely. So she got Dad's pistol and prepared to defend herself. This person came up to the house and asked for water. Mother saw at once, he was just a boy in his teens and he spoke with an accent she hadn't heard for a long time. Mother finally got the boys story. He had been working for a rancher located several miles south of Seibert, which was located on the Rock Island railroad nineteen miles southwest of Ed's homestead. The night before a cowhand had rode by with a message for the boy. The boys Father had died. The rancher said there was nothing the boy could do for his family and he couldn't have time off to go home, nor could he borrow a horse to ride home. The rancher assumed that this green kid would do as he was told. The boy had started out afoot before sun up and with no breakfast and no drinking water and had made it that far. Mother cooked him a meal and while he was eating it she saddled Dad's old cow pony Butler. Dad had trained old Butler well. If you got off of him and dropped the reins he would remain there until someone came and picked up the reins. Also, if you tied the reins up to the saddle horn so they couldn't fall to the ground, old Butler would head for home. When the boy had eaten his meal, Mother explained to him how Butler was trained and told him to ride him on to his home, which was several miles northeast from Ed's place. That boy was Abe Klassan, who learned the blacksmith trade and when automobiles began to become popular he became a good mechanic. Abe never married and some of my earliest memories are of him as our guest for Sunday dinners. Abe was a life long friend of our family. "The year of 1896 was a busy year on the Boger homestead. A four-room sod house was built. One part had walls three feet thick, this was partitioned into two rooms, each sixteen feet square, inside measurement. The adjoining part had walls 28 inches thick and it was partitioned into two rooms, each fourteen feet square, inside measurement. "Frank received a patent on this 160 acres of land in 1908, signed by President Theodore Roosevelt. All of Mother's children except Horace were born in this sod house, without the attendance of a doctor. They lived in this house thirty-three years. "A spring was discovered in Hell Creek about a half mile west of the house site. This was their source of water for the house. There were lagoons near on the prairie that furnished water for the stock. "A better source of water was needed, so Father, with the help of his brothers Ed and Wyatt, went to work digging a well by hand, four and a half feet in diameter and one hundred eighty two feet deep. At that depth they struck a layer of white rock. When they broke through the rock they found a live frog, which didn't live long after it was brought up to the top and placed in the sun. After breaking through the white rock the water raised to a depth of eight and a half feet. This well was in service for almost 25 years, and replaced by a drilled well which was in service about 60 years. The well that Father and his brothers dug by hand furnished water for many homesteaders until they could get their own well. "Homesteaders began arriving from all over, New York, Illinois, Missouri, Kansas, the Dakotas and Nebraska. Some were recent emigrants from Germany, Holland, France, England, Norway, Denmark and Sweden. All had hopes for a prosperous life and a bright future for their families. They were of many different religious backgrounds and all worked together to build schools and churches. With the coming of homesteaders it was necessary to mark their livestock so each could be identified as to ownership. A brand and ear mark was registered with the state brand office in Denver. Father registered his brand of BJ Bar, soon after he got his homestead established. He burned it on the right hip of each one of his cattle and with a knife, cropped and split the left ear and under bit the right ear. This made it easier to identify them while riding a horse among them. The brand was put on the right shoulder or right front hoof at the hair line, for horses. "Another problem arrived with the cattle that were brought in from the south to stock the range. Texas Fever. It was necessary to dip the cattle to get rid of the ticks and lice that spread this disease. Several of the other ranchers and neighboring homesteaders joined together and built corrals and dug a hole in the side of the hill south of the sod house and made it into a dipping vat for use of all the cattle owners. It was a community effort. The cattle would be driven to the corrals and run through the vat. Some of the herds were getting to be large, but it made no difference whether a man owned one or a hundred head of cattle, they were all dipped. "Among these homesteaders was a family from Missouri by the name of James. They took up the south one half of Section 33, Township 6, Range 48 W. They built a sod house one mile south of Frank and Flora's house. Thomas James was the father and I don't remember Mrs. James' given name. She was always 'Mrs. James' to us. They had two sons Frank and Charlie and two daughters, I have forgotten the older girl's name. Myrtle was the younger girl. Myrtle was fourteen years old when Sunday August 11, 1912 dawned and she had a very responsible part to play in the event of that day and for several days following. Ludwig Steininger was a young emigrant from Germany. He built his one room sod house across the road and almost a quarter of a mile south of Frank and Flora's soddie. He also was called upon for assistance a few days later when the team of horses Frank had hitched to his grain binder ran away with the binder and in the mix up Frank ended up with a compound fracture of one of his legs. Then following the birth on Sunday morning August 11, 1912 of their eighth baby, and Flora was suddenly afflicted with pneumonia and was unable to nurse or care for the new baby. Little fourteen-year-old Myrtle James accepted the task of taking care of the new baby and Ludwig took over for Frank to keep the ranch work going. The second week of August 1912 was a trying time on the Boger Ranch. Frank, with the help of Ludwig, set his own broken leg and soon he was able to hobble around with a crutch. Lute, as Ludwig was nicknamed, took charge and with the help of twelve-year-old Horace, ten year old Ellis and eight year old John, they kept the ranch work going. "I have a dim memory of playing with my sisters Mary, Louise and Fannie. Mary, being the older was more or less, care taker for us younger kids. Then came a sickness of scarlet fever. Mother told me that I was a very sick boy but somehow was able to survive. Mary did not survive and five months later, sister Louise died. I don't know what caused her death but I guess it was some more scarlet fever. I don't remember anything about their funerals or when they were buried. They just weren't there to play with anymore. Joyce (Boger) Miller wrote, "Both Mary and Louise died of Scarlet fever. The family was quarantined at the time of Mary's death, so no funeral was held. Neighbors came to the family's aid by taking her body to Seibert and burying her. An old family friend once told me that she was just a little girl when Louise died, but she still remembers coming here to the house for the funeral and how still my dad (Horace) sat with tears dripping off of his face." "There was a period of time when Fannie and I made our own entertainment. During the rainy spells that happened often enough to fill up the lagoons and other low places on the ground with water, tadpoles would appear as if by magic and fill the mud puddles. We would have great fun catching them by hand and carrying them around until the hot sun dried them out. Mother never enjoyed this game, for it added much to her workload, trying to keep us in clean clothes. "In winter time there was often snow drifts to climb over and slide down. And many hours cooped up in the house playing some card games and looking at pictures in the Montgomery Ward catalogues. One winter was about as long as a catalogue would last with this kind of usage. Then it would be taken out to the privy where it could be studied at leisure, provided the flies and spiders did not get too aggressive. "Father had a set of blacksmith tools which he used, keeping his machinery as well as the neighbors, in repair. He usually had a wagon wheel to rebuild or set the tire on, as well as a horse or mule to nail shoes on. The forge he usually fired with coal, which was shipped all the way from Pennsylvania because of its low sulphur content and cokeing ability. But at times we kids gathered cow chips and what Mother didn't burn in her cook stove, he used in the forge. Attached to the forge was a large bellows to supply air to the fire. This bellows had a wooden handle about six feet long and two and a half inches in diameter. It was mounted at just about armpit height of a grown man. This was much too high for me to reach. Father remedied this by placing a heavy packing box l8x24xl6 inches high beside the bellows for me to stand on so I could work the handle for him. I soon learned how to keep a steady flow of air to the fire and at times, jumping off the box and holding a piece of hot iron on the anvil for Father to weld. I would grab the handle of the tongs, holding the hot iron and place it on the anvil. Father would cover it with another piece of iron and hammer them until they fused into one. At welding heat the iron is almost molten and the flux covering it, is fluid. When the two pieces of iron are placed together on the anvil and struck with a hammer the flux is forced out from between the two pieces of iron and whitehot, flies straight away for quite a distance. It makes beautiful sparks that are destructive to shirts and pants and usually leave blisters when they hit bare skin. "When I started helping Father with the blacksmithing I was just tall enough to get these hot sparks down my shirt collar. Father would say 'Stand still and they won't hurt you.' I got the idea if I was big enough to help I could stand the hot sparks. Many times I almost gave up on learning the blacksmith trade and I always wondered how so many of the sparks found me. "The next year my life style changed drastically, I had my sixth birthday the eleventh of August 1918 and I started to school the first week of September. Brother John let me tag along with him to the Boger School, which was one mile east and three quarters of a mile south of our house. John showed me the short cut path he used across the pasture to the schoolhouse. This was to be his last year in school for he was finishing the eighth grade that year. Those hikes across the section to and from school were the best part of the day for me. "The bull snakes moved in with us one summer and we found them in the bedrooms and kitchen and everywhere. May Johnson helped Mother cook for harvest hands that summer and she would sit in front of the kitchen range with a stove poker in her hand and keep the snakes down behind the mop board back of the range. The bull snakes really cleaned out the mice and rats from the old soddy. Fannie and I found a rattlesnake about two feet long inside the front door trying to get outside. Mom took care of that one in short order. "Father bought a carload of Mexican horses. They were all mares except one little brown mare colt with abroad white stripe down her face and knee high white stockings on all four legs. This colt was claimed by my brother Ellis and became his private cow pony. He spent many hours with this colt and trained her well. She was good when roping, cutting and just herding cattle. "With the arrival of this bunch of horses, life on the BJ Bar ranch perked up. Almost every Sunday, Horace and Ellis would run the horse herd into the 'round pen,' as the roping corral was called. There with the help of Father and brother John and usually some neighbor men, the horses would be roped and saddled and gentled. Some were used as cow horses, some became driving horses used to pull the spring wagon and buggy. The larger ones became field horses used to pull the farm machinery. "Father bought a Percheron stud horse and imported a Spanish Jack which he bred these mares to. At one time he had over ninety head of mules in his mule herd. Some of the mules and horses were sold or loaned to the neighbors. Some of the homesteaders would take a team of young horses or mules and use them a year for breaking them to work. The major part of the mule herd was sold to a mule buyer who worked out of Omaha, Nebraska. The buyer traveled all over, buying mules from ranchers and homesteaders. These mules were bunched up at the Boger ranch then driven to the stockyards at Seibert, by Father and Horace and Ellis and usually some neighbor men. From Seibert they were shipped to Memphis, Tennessee to a mule auction. Cattle were handled in the same manner but their destination varied from year to year, between Denver, Kansas City and Omaha. "It was during 1917 I believe, that one morning Lute Steininger, our young bachelor neighbor who had been so helpfu1 at the time of my arrival in August 1912, drove in to our place with his team and wagon, and of course I rushed out to meet him. Father walked out in the yard to talk with him. There, Father and I stood and Lute said, "Frank, make a sale for me I'm going to the Army. Take care of my place until I get back." Father answered, "Lute you don't have to do that, you will be exempted from the draft for you have a farm to run, and too you are a recent emigrant." Lute replied, "Frank I want to get a shot at that Damn Kaiser." He drove away. When he went out of sight down the road I suddenly realized something really awful was happening. I had heard the neighbors talking about several of the young men in our community who had gone to war. War was something happening far away across the ocean, that Lute and some of the other neighbors told of crossing on a ship when they came to America. Now it became something real happening that scared me. It had to be terrible for Lute was going to join the Army to help fight. And that damn Kaiser had to be a really mean man if Lute wanted to shoot him. Lute was gone! "Next year, I guess about every kid in the community had a war garden. Mine was a patch in one corner of Mother's big garden. As I remember it was about four feet wide by six feet long. I had to carry water from the stock tank to wet it down and then there were some weeds to pull and some to hoe. We may have had some carrots and a little lettuce from it, but I sure didn't flood the market with produce. "On the prairie in Colorado you can hear the clucking of wagon wheels and the rumble of the box and clip clop of the horses hoofs for a long way, especially at night, and the ground is frozen. At times there were as many as six or eight wagons in line come by our place before sunrise. Some had come from five or six miles farther up the road north. All loaded with grain for sale at the grain elevator or livery barn in Vona, which was fourteen miles further south of us. Father and Horace would have our team hitched to our loaded wagon and fall in line as they came by. After dark, we would usually be eating supper by kerosene lamplight, when we would hear these wagons coming from the south, returning empty of grain. They rattled more when empty. Some would have some coal and groceries and other supplies needed by the owners. "Sister Fannie's birthday was November 11, and Mother always tried to do something extra for her. This birthday turned out to be very special, for on November 11, 1918 Germany, England, France and the United States signed the Armistice. Everybody was excited about it and said the war was over. It wasn't long before we began hearing of somebody returning from the war. It was just before Christmas, when brother Horace returned one night from Vona where he had taken a wagonload of grain to sell. We were eating supper by kerosene light, when we heard the grain wagons returning from Vona. There was some shouting back and forth among the drivers, but that happened when each individual stopped at his own place and the others proceeded on towards their homesteads. This night, when Horace drove up to the house to unload groceries we heard someone with him. Curious me, I dashed from the table and out the door to see who it could be. Lo and Behold! There sat Lute up on the wagon spring seat beside Horace. I dashed back in the house shouting, 'It's Lute! It's Lute!' It was some time before we got settled back at the table to finish our supper. And that was one night Fannie and I got to stay up until we couldn't keep our eyes open any longer. It was so good to have Lute home again. "During these years the weather had been cooperating with the farmers and ranchers. They grew forty bushel per acre wheat and twenty bushel per acre corn and bountiful sorghum crops for roughage for the stock. They got good prices for their crops. Some of the neighbors invested in tractors and combines and corn pickers, and of course cars and trucks. The trucks eliminated the long hauls by team and wagons. "Then our family routine was suddenly changed. Grandfather Andrew and Grandmother Abigail could no longer manage their homestead by themselves. Ellis and John had been taking turns staying with Grandfather and Grandmother, helping with the farming and chores. Now Grandfather and Grandmother moved down to live with us. Ellis was put in charge of Grandfather's homestead, where he batched and took care of a herd of horses for Father. He also did the farming. On November 20, 1920, Grandmother Abigail died. She had been quite ill for a few weeks and Mother, with the help of Mrs. Minnie Iler, a neighbor lady, had been caring for her. I remember Grandmother's funeral, which was held at our house. Then she was taken to Burlington for burial. Fannie and I didn't go to Burlington and I don't believe my brothers did either. Grandfather had suffered a slight stroke a short while before and was somewhat confused in mind but he could pretty well take care of himself, dressing, eating and walking. He did lots of walking. He had a companion on his walks, a little gosling, which was the only one hatched that year. Whenever Grandfather walked out of the house the gosling was there waiting for him. They would walk to the barn and hog pens, then to the mailbox. Grandfather would talk to the gosling and the gosling would chatter back just as though he understood. On December 2, 1920, Grandfather died. There was another funeral at our house and Grandfather was taken to Burlington and buried beside Grandmother. The gosling that had almost grown full size waited and waited just outside the kitchen door for Grandfather to come take a walk, couldn't understand why he was left alone. He seemed to think if Grandfather couldn't come out Fannie and I shouldn't come out either. He became so mean that we didn't venture out if he was in sight. Father made a whip by tying a piece of bridle rein to a broomstick. With this whip he drove the gosling to the barn and left him with the flock of old geese. He repeated this several times before the young gander decided he had to stay away from the house. However, Fannie and I always took the whip with us if we had chores to do where we might meet this young gander. I went to the barn one evening to help with the chores and I didn't take the whip. That gander attacked me. He held me with his beak and worked me over with his feet and wings, wings mostly. Father stepped out of the barn with a piece of fork handle and drove the gander off. I had several sore black and blue spots from that attack, and we had young gander for Christmas dinner that year 1920. "It was a couple of years later when Mother was repacking and sorting clothing that she had stored over the years. A pair of denim pants that had been Grandpa's were found. They were almost new. Father decided he would wear them. There was only one problem. Grandpa was a larger man than Father was. When Father put the pants on they were several inches too big around the waist. Father always wore suspenders so the pants sort of hung on him. When he stooped over they bagged down about three inches in front, but regardless of this he decided to wear them. It was during the summer and I was helping Father in the shop when he was forge welding a heavy piece of iron. As usual I was pumping the bellows and when the iron got to the right heat with the molten flux and iron beginning to sparkle, I took one piece in the tongs and placed it on the anvil, and Father placed the other one on top of it. Because it was heavy iron father used a four-pound hammer, and raising it high, struck the hot iron as hard as he could. He stooped over enough that his pants bagged down and it looked like about a handful of white-hot flux went down inside the front of his pants. He had already raised the hammer and was bringing it down for the next blow. When he missed the anvil and threw the hammer on the floor. I shouted, "Hit it! It's getting cold!" His answer, 'To hell with it I've got other things to do," and I shouted "Stand still and they won't hurt you!" He was digging in the front of his pants with both hands and doing dance steps back of the anvil. That made my day. It was a sort of payback for my having endured all those hot sparks down my collar in days past. Father found a cord string to slip through the belt loops on his pants to take up the slack around his waist. All of us boys and even Fannie got a good knowledge of blacksmithing while helping Father in that shop on the ranch. "One cool cloudy day when I was about four or five years old, Father made a trip to town and brothers Horace, Ellis and John were 'taking care' of things at the barn. Fannie and I were busy with our own entertainment in the house for it was too cold for us to be outside. Mother began to wonder why the 'big boys' had not returned to the house for some time. She didn't see any activity around the barn or corrals, so she went to investigate. She heard the conversation before she saw what was going on. She peeked around the corner of the barn, there out of sight of the house, they were having their own calf riding fun. Ellis was the more aggressive rider of the three. He had just got on a calf that Horace held by the head and John held by the tail. When Ellis got set Horace turned the calf loose and John gave its tail a twist. That twist set the calf in motion and after one big buck, Ellis was scrambling up out of the manure. He said to John, 'G-d--- it, I didn't tell you to twist his tail.' Mother left them to their fun and that night at the supper table Father asked how things had gone while he was away. Everything normal, according to my brothers. Then Mother told what she had seen and heard that afternoon. That was the first my brothers knew that they had an audience at their 'rodeo.' "School days at the Boger School came and went. There were always some new kids to get acquainted with as well as new teachers. [Joyce (Boger) Miller wrote that the Boger School, in district 12, was a one room, frame building built in 1909. It was first located 12 miles north, 1 west and 1/2 north of Vona on the property of Frank Boger. In 1911, it was moved to 12 1/4 miles north of Vona. Classes at the Boger School were discontinued in about 1950 and the building was bought by Gus Schreiner and moved to his place.] The teachers I remember were: Quintin Vose, Marie Farqhuar, Lottie Putman, Helen Swaim, Goldie Iverson, Cassie McDougal, William Seeley, Alfred Schmidt, and Viola Burkhard. They all contributed much to the education of the kids of School District number 12. [Joyce (Boger) Miller wrote that a favorite story, handed down, tells of the adventures of John Boger, son of Frank and Flora. John would start off to school each day with the rest of the Boger children but instead of going to school, he would hide out in the fence row or the draw south of the house and play all day then rejoin the group on their way home. He managed to get by with that for some time before his dad caught him at it and then he didn't try that again.] I missed part of the 1921-1922 term, for Mother had to go to Belleville, Kansas, to help care for Grandmother Slutts during her last illness. Mother took Fannie and me with her. While at Belleville I attended the Dry Lake School with my cousins, the Tallents. "In February of 1929, Father, Mother, John, Fannie and I moved to Seibert. Fannie and I transferred to Seibert High School where we both were graduated. I in 1931 and Fannie in 1932. "Father and John, with the help of Elmer Everett and I believe Clay Frankfather, built a building for a blacksmith shop. Jess Miller painted it. The building still stands in Seibert. I worked in the shop with Father and John after school hours and weekends and all day during the summer. Farmers were still growing some crops, though rainfall was falling off. However, some farmers were quitting and moving away. "I visited Aunt Myrtle and Uncle Walter at their home in Busnell, Ill., in May of 1940 while on my way home from my first hitch in the navy. One day she and I drove up to Viola, Ill. and visited the Stoner family who lived about a half mile from where Dad was born and raised. Old Mr. Stoner filled me in on some of the shenanigans that Dad was in when he was growing up. From what I gathered, I guess the Boger boys kept things lively in the community. We also saw the Pope school where Dad and his brothers went to school. The original building had burned, but a new one was built on the same spot." |
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