AUTOBIOGRAPHY
OF
SAMMY LEE BARNETT TANKERSLEY
June 1, 1938
Part 3, Homesteading in Oklahoma:
The land rush of 1893 aka as the Cherokee Strip.
Then the news came that
the land known as the outlet strip of the Cherokee Strip in the
Territory of Oklahoma, would be opened for settlement in April 1893.
We were in shape by this time financially to go and try to get us a
home (editor's note; Also, Rush's next older brother, Benjamin Robert, had
homesteaded in the run of 1889 not too far from where this run was to
take place and would help us get our land and get settled). We
stored our furniture and all our belongings that we did not need.
Rush got his wagon ready for travel, loaded with farm machinery. We
got the horses shod and starts for the new country in February of
1893. I took our little daughter and went to my old home in Neosho
to stay with my father and sisters in June. The time of the opening
was changed to 16, 1983, but I went down in June anyway.
The Cherokee Strip was
6,000,000 acres divided into three divisions, the west third to be
sold for $1.00 per acre, the middle third for $1.50, and the east
third for $2.50. I left Neosho in June at 1:00 o'clock and went to
Joplin, left there at 3:00 and changed again in one hour, going to
Cherryville, Kansas. I arrived there at 1:00 a.m. And stayed there
until 7:00 a.m. And went to Arkansas City, where I changed trains to
Mulhall, Oklahoma, arriving at 12:00 (o'clock) midnight. Rush was
there to meet us (editior's note; here, she changed from singular "I" to
plural "us", she did not leave Vesta with her father and
sisters, but carried her along on the trip) and we were so tired
from travel that he wanted us to go to a hotel. I said no because
the wagon was all ready for travel with a bed, so we slept there that
night. At 4:00 a.m. We were awakened by a wind storm and rain and
the cover blowing off the wagon. We got up and I got Rush's overcoat
on and he wrapped Vesta in a blanket. We got out in the rain and
walked across the street where some folks were living in a tent.
They let us in and they made a fire and we dried things the best we
could and ate breakfast with them. They were typical Oklahoma people
and that was my first introduction to Oklahoma.
At 9:00 a.m. We started
out to the farm (editor's note; belonging to Rush's brother, Ben), arriving
about noon. What I saw of the country during the drive made me ready
to start back home. We drove down hill to a little cabin that didn't
look very much like a home, but as we had planned to do this together
and never look back, I made the best of it and stayed. Everyone I
met was fine and I liked the people who were all striving to make
homes for themselves.
On the Sunday after my
arrival I went with Rush's brother and family to Sunday School
convention three miles away, held in a big log schoolhouse known as
Paradise. It was very different from anything I had in mind about
Paradise. We rode in a farm wagon with a pair of yoke oxen. They
had horses, but I found out later that brother Ben just did that to
see how I would like that style of traveling. I didn't say anything,
much to their surprise. When we got to Paradise there were five or
six yoke of oxen grazing around the little school house. I never met
a finer lot of people than were there that day, people from almost
every state. There was a morning, afternoon, and evening session and
a basket dinner and supper. Everyone enjoyed the day.
That summer was filled
up with visiting and getting plans made for the run. Everyone spoke
of the opening. Rush trained the little brown mare he was going to
ride in the big race for a home. There was a lone tree we could see
from our door just a half mile away, and three times a day I would
hold the watch while Rush raced the horse to that tree and back to
see just how long it took him to run a mile. Rush got all our things
ready as we had to go thirty-five miles to the place to make the run
or enter the race. The part of the strip where we wanted to settle
was what is known as the Flatiron country, a three cornered section
of land which lay between the Arkansas and Cimarron rivers, all
bottom land, and was in the $2.50 section. On the 13th of
September we had things ready. Brother Ben was going with us to stay
with Vesta and me in the wagon, follow the race as near as he could,
and carry an ax in case he could locate Rush. Uncle Henry Kimball
and son Algie went with us aa Algie was going to make the race, too.
We had to go to a place
four miles north of Stillwater, which was in Pawnee County. It had
been opened for settlement in 1889 when brother Ben had got his farm.
There the men had to register. We got in late in the evening of
September 13th and camped for the night. There were
thousands camped there that night, all with covered wagons. I will
never forget the noises, men yelling, mules braying, horses neighing,
horses chomping corn, wagons rattling. The night was hideous.
People who came in late were cooking their meal on camp fires, men
waving lanterns. Every five minutes we would hear some one say "Oh
Joe, here's your mule," and then someone down the line would yell
the same thing, and so an all night long. There was very little
sleeping done that night.
We were up early next
morning and had breakfast. Rush and Algie went to the land office,
which was in a large tent, to register. They were there at 6:00 a.m.
But there were so many there before them that they waited all day,
standing or sitting on the ground. I carried water to them all day
for which I paid 10 cents per bucket. They finally got to register at
6:00 p.m. And the office closed with hundreds still in line. We ate
supper, drove eight miles out of town and camped, all dead tired. We
rose early next morning and drove the rest of the thirty-five miles.
The road was right along the land we were going to try to get. All
day we could see the prairie fires over the Promised Land, as the
wild grass was waist high. The wind was in the south and kept it
burning slowly.
We arrived at the point
where the race was to be made and hundreds were camped there already.
Algie and his father began preparing supper which was biscuits baked
in a dutch oven covered with coals, coffee, bacon, and potatoes with
a few apples and peaches brought from Payne County. By the time we
had supper ready the wind had changed and was blowing a gale from the
north (editor's note; must have been the famous "blue norther" of
Oklahoma but a bit early in the season.). The fires were coming
toward us at a terrible rate. This caused a panic and the teams were
hitched up and all things loaded. All of the men got together and
started burning around us and further south as fast as it could be
done. The wagons were moved over where is had burned off, but we
thought for a time that we would all be burned up. The smoke was so
dense we could hardly see or breath. That was the narrowest escape
we ever had from fire. Everyone was so excited and upset that no
one slept that night until after midnight.
We slept late the next
morning as the race wasn't to begin until noon. Things grew very
exiting as the hour drew near. All the men and many women were lined
up. When the gun was fired by a Government Official the race
started. What a sight! Wagons, buggies, horses, a sight never to be
forgotten. I stayed at our covered wagon and watched. After
everyone was gone I saw a woman go across the line about a hundred
yards and drive a stake. She had staked her claim! I will tell more
about her later.
Rush rode a little brown
pony and brother Ben followed him riding a white pony and carrying an
ax, trying to keep Rush in sight. Rush ran two and one-half miles
northeast, crossing a big creek and came out in open prairie bottom.
He said, "This looks good enough for me." and stopped. Ben
rode to the creek and rode up and down trying to find a place to
cross and yelled as loud as he could. Rush answered, as he was quite
close on the north side of the creek. Ben found a place to cross and
took the ax. Rush cut down a few trees and drove stakes. Ben came
back to camp and we drove to the place that was to be our home for
eighteen years. Algie Kimball ran two miles farther north and got a
fine piece of land. At this writing, after forty years, he is still
living on his homestead.
All day Sunday,
September 17, 1893, the men put in their time looking for corner
stones. We were camped in a beautiful spot on the bank of the creek.
The name we found later was House Creek. Sunday evening Rush
started to Perry on the little brown pony to register his claim on
the land. He rode all night, forty miles, and slept a few hours in a
bed of hay near Perry. Ben and I started back to his home on Monday
morning and it took us two days. One of his horses gave out and we
tied that horse behind the wagon and Ben held up one side of the neck
yoke with the gray pony on the other side and I drove. We did that
for two miles. We stopped at a farm house for the night. Our horse
was better in the morning and we drove ten miles that day and camped.
Vesta and I stayed alone while Ben went to a farmer he knew, as we
were in Payne county, and borrowed a span of mules to take us on
home.
Rush was (editor's note; already) there
when we got there, and we put in the rest of the fall getting things
ready to live on and improve our claim. Rush gathered the corn and
took the crop of sorghum to the mill and had a half barrel of sorghum
made. We sold enough to buy ten sacks of flour. I made piemelon
butter to take the place of apple butter. We gathered the black eyed
peas, and after they were hulled we had two bushels, and one bushel
of White Lady peas to cook for on Sunday when company came. We had
raised six bushels of peanuts and would grind them and make peanut
butter. We took two bushels of corn meal. I made vinegar out of
sorghum molasses. Such were the preparations made for living in the
new home.
Rush would go to the
claim for a few days at a time until February, 1894, when we loaded
our household things, supplies for living, farm implements, and with
Ben taking one load with an ox team and we with the horses, we were
three days going thirty-five miles. We borrowed a tent and we put it
up on the same site where we had camped at first. We had sent back
to Auburn for our household goods, but all our tent would hold was a
stove, bed and table, and cover our provisions. Ben stayed with us
for two weeks and he and Rush set to work building a log house. They
cut logs, hewed them on one side, hauled them up and they made clap
boards to make the roof. They put in one day going around to find
neighbor men to come and help put up the house. Ben knew just how it
was done as he had done the same thing four years before over in
Payne county. The men came and put up the house, eighteen square
feet (editor's note; must mean 18 ft. square, 324 square feet) in one day,
all bringing their dinners, and I made coffee. The next day Ben and
Rush put the roof on. We had no floor, but I had a new Carpet and put
it down and fastened it with pegs. We moved in just two weeks after
we arrived. We had no gables or doors or windows. We had brought one
window but put is under the bed.
Ben had to go home and
Rush took the team and went to Perry, fifty miles, to get lumber for
gables and doors, and nails and other things needed. He was gone
four days. Vesta and I stayed alone through the day. Algie Kimball
came and stayed nights and worked on his claim through the day. We
had used the borrowed tent to cover one gable and some old blankets
for the other end until Rush come home. I had plenty of sheets so
tacked them up on the walls and soon had things looking comfortable.
I had no place for my dishes, so we got big bulk cracker boxes and
stacked them up on top of each other and made a lovely cupboard.
Well, final Rush got gables fixed and made a door and put the latch
string outside. Every door we ever had, we put the latch string
outside.
From that time until
April, Rush cut wood for the summer use, and got many new logs ready,
as we had much big timber on the place. Sam and Albert Treece,
father and son from Joplin, Missouri, had claims adjoining ours on
the north and brought a saw mill which was located on our creek very
near where our house stood, so we had a great amount of lumber saved
for years and built barns and sheds and the frame timber, and lumber
for another house and to make all the improvements necessary. Rush
bought a yoke of oxen to break up the sod and borrowed his brother's
yoke of cattle also and began breaking the sod in April. I am
writing a piece of poetry that I have read that fits our case exactly
and tells it much better than I can:
"A man went to get him a farm and he drove an old white ox,
He had a wife and child and an old yellow dog,
An army gun and a long nosed hog, strapped on behind in a box.
He took a claim and went to work
And plowed up the virgin sod.
He fought the gophers and garden things and fourteen kinds of potato bugs,
And the snakes he smashed with a clod." |
In May, after a number
of acres had been cleared and broken, we planted kaffir corn, as that
was a new land crop and needed very little care. Things seemed to
be going fine until one of our oxen fell in a ditch and was hurt and
died. Rush then traded the other oxen for a Jersey cow, just fresh,
two pigs and one dozen hens. We raised the calf on skimmed milk.
The second year we had two cows. We raised a few chickens and a fine
crop of kaffir corn and millet hay, and had plenty of eggs. There
was plenty of work to be done, but our money gave out. For one whole
year we had neither sugar nor coffee in the house. The second year,
1894, Rush would quit work for four days and go to Perry and haul
freight for a little general store in our town of Jennings, which was
two and one-half miles from us. Then we would take his pay for the
trip out of the store in groceries and dry goods and nails and
fencing wire. So we lived! We ere young and really enjoyed
everything we did. We didn't seem to think we were losing out on
anything or having hard times at all. We really had lots of fun as
we went along.
Our little town of
Jennings was started in September, 1893, but until the next July we
didn't have a Post Office. All the mail we had came by way of
Ingalls in Payne County, which was twenty-five miles away. When
anyone went to Ingalls they brought back mail for all who left their
names at the general store. Everyone was so pleased when we got our
Post Office and had mail every day.
The winters were very
mild and men worked in shirt sleeves all winter. Our house was full
of cracks. When it rained or snowed, though it didn't snow very
often, it would sift in and we had to have an oil cloth over our bed.
Once a big rain came and water come up in our house several inches.
We had to climb on chairs to get in bed. By morning the water had
gone down, but my carpet was so wet and it took so long to dry that
it rotted. We took it out in July and had a floor put in and a
window, and really we were quite stuck up.
From 1894 to 1896 were
very hard years for all of the money we got had to go for
improvements. There were so many things we did without. The first
money Rush made after we were on the claim was made putting up a
small log house for some people named Hewitt who came from Kansas and
took a claim just east of Jennings. He got twenty dollars for
putting up the house. When he went to the railroad for freight he
bought ten sacks of flour for $10.00, and we kept the other $10.00 to
use as we needed it. I walked two and one-half miles to Jennings
many times with a few eggs and a little butter to trade for thread,
tea, and soda, and small articles we needed. It was in 1994 that
Rush built the Hewitt house. They built a very nice house later and
Grandma Hewitt and her son Will are living there still after forty
years. Here is a poem written by Grandma Hewitt for the Mutual
Helpers:
"My name is Nancy Hewitt and that is all there is to it.
If you won't accept my rhyme, I'll just give you my dime."
Grandma Hewitt is now past eighty years of age.
(this ends PART III
Next is PART IV Building the Community: the land rush of
1893.
|