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MAURENE RUTH TANKERSLEY BISHOP's
LIFE ON THE HOMESTEAD


(Editor's note; this is Sammy Barnett Tankersley and Marshall Rush Tankersley's third daughter, born in 1897 while on the Oklahoma homestead. Ruth, as she was called, tells us the story of her life growing up in Oklahoma and of the hardships her parents faced in civilizing an untamed land. Ruth is the aunt of Sharon Worth Goodnight, who, also, was so kind to provide me with the manuscript containing the story her grandmother Sammy, Ruth's mother, wrote and with many other bits of information and picture. I will scan and post the picture later, hopefully after identifying the people in the picture. This transcript started 10 July, 2001.)


Part 1 - A Child is born:

I know how an amateur actor feels when he follows a star. S. (editor's note; Sammy) Lee and Marshall Rush were stars as a team and in their separate roles. My story will be very dull and insipid following hers. I must move along, as "I have promises to keep and many miles before I sleep." (Robert Frost)

Marshall Rush Tankersley was born October 22, 1861, Danville, Indiana. Parents: Charles Tankersley and Mary Cummings Herrington Tankersley. He passed away January 4, 1935.

Sammy Lee Barnett was born August 1, 1865, Salem, Illinois. Parents: Samuel Barnett and Martha Adams Barnett. She passed away November 6, 1949, Auburn, Nebraska. Both my parents are buried in Sheridan Cemetery, Auburn.

My father was a depot agent and telegraph operator for the Missouri Pacific Railroad, Auburn, before and after marriage and prior to homesteading in Indian Territory. Guthrie was the capitol of the Cherokee Nation. It is about forty miles from the homestead.

The acreage selected by Dad was a beautiful piece of land. He must have had the eyes of an artist. There were two high hills with giant rocks scattered over them, some rolling hill land, a creek of clear water crossing the entire acreage, west to east. For the most part the creek had a table rock bed, but there were places where there were pebbles and sand washed white from the running water. These places made good crossings for the livestock and for roadways. There were many deep holes and some quick sand and the creek had a large and beautiful waterfall. (editor's note; OH! That this land were still in the family.) There was an abundance of timber, black walnut, hickory, pine, red, white and bur oaks. There was one, only on, tall stately black jack. You could see it above the other trees.

No more that sixty acres was suitable for farm land. All the land had to be grubbed of undergrowth. The soil was rich and if you could clear and plant it to anything, it would grow. All of the farm was bottom land.

The first log house was built in 1893. The second in the fall of 1895. Lois Lee was born in number 1 on June 8, 1895, Dr. Quincy Newell officiating. He was a very young doctor; he had brought his mother and sister Olga who lived with him. Many years later the doctor served as Warden of Oklahoma State Penitentiary. Number 1 log house became the barn, number 2 was larger (one room) and in a better location where the new frame house could adjoin or be built as a separate unit. Lois loved to shock friends, acquaintances, and strangers by telling them she was born in the barn.

A new frame house, two rooms, was built in the winter of 1896/97. I was born there on July 31, 1897, neighbor Hanna Ganz was midwife.

My first recollection of my surroundings and events was during the winter of 1901. We had a heating stove in the parlor-bedroom. I had a rocking chair and I rocked too hard; the chair tipped forward and throwing me against the stove. I caught myself by placing both palms against the stove. I have nice scars from the burns. Mom was a good practical doctor, unexcitable and fearless of applying home-prepared remedies.

While my hands were being treated, Uncle Charley, Aunt Jennie, their daughter Grace and her future husband, Marion Mathis, drove their team and wagon into the yard. The has come from Auburn.

Dad had erected a shed-like structure to the house, closed off from the house with a homemade comforter. The room had no window, no light. Vesta, Lois, and I slept in that room. I was terrified of the dark and balked at going to bed.

Another homesteader brought a saw mill with him to the territory. For some unknown reason it was set up for operation on our land in the midst of good timber. Dad felled the trees, sawed and planed the lumber for the house.

The first church I remember was in our house. Dad sawed big logs into about two foot lengths, set them upright, placed planks on them for the neighbors to sit on. Each Sunday afternoon, neighbors from nearby (there were not many who lived near enough to come) came in lumber wagons, spring wagons, and buggies to attend religious services. Most of them knew how to pray and would kneel in prayer. Mom led the singing of old familiar hymns.

In the fall of 1902, the Frisco Railroaders set up camp near the creek crossing, about ½ mile from our house. They had a corral of large work horses, a lot of machinery and equipment, a number of regular workmen and a St. Bernard dog as tall as I, very gentle, and he would follow me home when I would run and go to the camp.

On January 17, 1903, Dad awakened us very early in the morning, long before daylight. He told us to dress hurriedly. We didn't see Mom. Without breakfast, we went by lumber wagon to a neighbor's, Bob and Nanny Reece, about a mile from home. Grandma Reece lived with them. They had no children. It was cold, a trace of snow had fallen, there was ice on the road, the wagon wheels creaked and squawked every turn they made. The Reece house was larger than ours and much nicer. They had rag rugs on every floor. They had an upstairs, the first any of us had ever seen. Vesta was a lady and didn't seem to notice the unusual, Lois sat in awe, and I was fascinated and said so.

Grandma Reece smoked a corn cob pipe. I was only five so Bob showed me a lot of attention and love. He held me on his lap, let me smoke his pipe, told us whopper stories and laughed with real gusto. Lois and Vesta tattled on me for smoking Bob's pipe.

Nanny took the three of us upstairs to show us many pretty things they brought from St. Louis, such as fancy dresses she had worn to the opera and other exciting places. She described the operas, the Mississippi River, the ferry for crossing the river, and other things. I liked the operas best; St. Louis must have been an exciting city.

Nanny had pieced and finished several quilts made of silk and satin pieces from her dresses. One quilt had a piece of blue satin, brilliant and shiny. It was the prettiest thing I had ever seen. Ever after that when Lo and I played make-believe, I wore my blue satin dress, just like the piece in Aunt Nanny's quilt.

Incidentally, we had breakfast, dinner, and supper with them. Dad came for us after dark. It was much colder than when we left home in the morning. Lo and I stood in the back of the wagon, jumping up and down trying to keep warm. We had experienced the best day of our lives.

When we arrived home we found a bed from the bedroom had been moved into the parlor. Mom was in the bed, all smiles. Aunt Ganz, who called me her little papoose, was getting supper by lamp light. After we knelt in prayer and were seated at the table, Mom called me to come and see her for a minute. I climbed up on the side of the bed. She turned the covers back and there was a little baby, a real live baby doll. Mom told me not to tell anyone. I went back to the table, climbed on a rung of Vesta's chair and whispered what I had promised not to tell. So ended a happy day.

End of part 1

Next part 2 tragically, death knocks at our door.
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