May 25, 1986
George Dunshee, Charles Prior and myself went for a ride Sunday to see the high water. We saw lots of it. Went by the buffalo farm north of Promise City. More there than we had ever seen before. Lots more young. We went to Bridgeport at the lower end of Rathbun and then zigzagged northwest toward Chariton. Charles saw a strange bird, on a post. We stopped and I could hear the song of a bobolink. We went up the road to drive into an abandoned farm. On the way we waved at a farmer looking after his cows and calves. As we wnt back to see the bird we waved at the farmer again. We got a good view of the bird and several more. We went up the road, turned around, came back, saw the birds and waved at the farmer again. I told George that the farmer probably thought we were up to something. About a mile away we drove into a turnaround overlooking south Chariton backwaters. In a moment or two here came the farmer in a pickup truck. He pulled up and asked if we were looking for something. I told him what we were doing and he was quick to tell why he was upset. He probably realized too, that he was in the wrong. It seems they had been losing calves. A car would drive up, grab a calf, toss it in the car trunk and take off. He had lost several. He didn’t actually see the act, but other people had seen it happen. It turned out all right and we had a good visit. Flowers were about as usual. George found a rather nondescript flower. I had seen it before, but I am rusty. Haven’t had the big bird and flower books out for seven or eight years. George’s interest is putting me to work and I love it. In the evening I was looking at the specimen he found. It had quite a root. I saved the plant and cut up the root to go down the garbage disposal. At once I realized it was wild horseradish. Strong order. We did get home Sunday without any more unexpected events. I always take candy along. I limit myself to three pieces. They have no limits, it seems. It’s a great way to spend an afternoon.
My mother and father met at the teachers’ college in Normal, Illinois, in 1885. They were married in 1889 and moved to a farm near Clio, Iowa. Father came out the year before on the T. P. & W. Railroad. The railroad put a flatcar before the engine and pushed it through the country for interested land buyers to observe the countryside. Old church pews were fastened to the flat car. Father didn’t think he could see much so he got off at Corydon, hired a horse and buggy, and wound up at Clio where he met some nice people by the name of Barker. In 1925 and 1926 their daughter taught in high school here. The first year they raised sheep. Mother had never been on a farm and the smell of sheep made her ill. Father said they would change to hogs the next year and that was worse as it was a wet year. This led to their moving to Oakley, Iowa, where they engaged in the food business. They couldn’t sell the farm as nothing was selling.
One of their neighbors had a son who was returning from working on a cattle drive where he was a cook. His folks thought it was great to have a cook around. This was a joke as he knew nothing but cooking in great quantities using big kettles of buffalo grease and corn meal, beans, etc. Father hit upon the idea of letting the boy run his farm until they could sell it.
The boy came but he brought an Indian wife. A group called upon the family and told them she wasn’t welcome. No person of color ever stayed in Wayne County overnight. This was true up to 1960 and as far as I can learn it’s still true. The Indian wife went to Missouri and five years later the couple went back out West.
While this was going on my folks had a visit from a cousin, John Piper, of Philadelphia. They had had slaves in their home and after the slaves were freed they took the Piper name, as they had no last names, and stayed at the home and worked. When cousin John came to visit he brought two black boys with him. My folks were visited by a group telling them the boys couldn’t stay overnight. Since it was Sunday and my folks were going to church in Allerton at the United Presbyterian Church, they decided to all go and cousin John and his black boys would board the late p.m. train and leave. As they came to the church a group met them and said the black boys weren’t welcome in the church. A family by the name of Rick took them all home to dinner and kept them until train time in Corydon. My brother Bill lived in Corydon thirty-five years and he was much aware of this unwritten law allowing no person of color to stay the night in Wayne County. Remember this story has a slight church connection. I was baptized in this same church in 1913.
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