"Early Life in Custer County" by Gertrude EUBANK_WORLEY, 5018 Nall Ave. Kansas City, KS.

My parents, Richard and Elizabeth (WOOD)_EUBANK, emigrated by team and covered wagon from Illinois to Custer County in the year 1879. Along with them, in another covered wagon, came my uncle and aunt, Jone & Jennie (Jonas Specht & Virginia) ROTH and their three small boys (Clifford Ivan, Richard Edgar & William Bradley).

My uncle, Ed (Edwin Dozier) EUBANK, and his family had preceded them to Custer County by a year or so. My father was a southerner and a horseman, having been born and raised in Kentucky, and my mother was the daughter of a prosperous Illinois farmer. They were both quite young, my mother being only twenty years of age and my father twenty-three. Little did they realize the hardships they would have to endure the first few years in Nebraska. Father took a claim on Wager Creek, between Coburg and Comstock. He broke the sod with a plough brought from Illinois, and built the sod house, living in a small log cabin near Comstock while the house was being built. The walls of the house were three feet thick, so it was quite warm in the winter and cool in the summer. He only built one room at first but later added another room but with a dirt floor. the dirt floor became hard and packed and mother swept it just like any floor.

When the house was finished father built a sod stable and dug a well. Then they moved into their new home with only a few pieces of furniture brought from Illinois. Later they went to Grand Island and bought more furniture. The nearest mill was at Grand Island, a distance of 75 miles, and they had to go to Loup City or Grand Island for groceries. Later there was a mill at Sweetwater, 50 miles away.

When father went to mill, he would start before daylight in order to get there with the load of grain that evening, and start back the next morning before daylight , with flour, meal, etc. So through the long cold winters when the snow was deep and drifted, it was sometimes impossible to get there and they would run out of supplies. Then they would parch grain to make coffee and grind wheat in the coffee mill, brought from Illinois, for food. This coffee mill was loaned out for miles around for grinding wheat. Mother would cook the ground-up wheat and they would eat it with milk. Although wheat is a good food, I expect it grew rather tiresome without the fruit and vegetables they had been used to. So when a break came in the weather, how glad they would be to start out for Loup City or Grand Island for a fresh supply of canned goods and dried fruits.

My mother soon learned to can wild plums, chokeberries and gooseberries. And she would sometimes make sheep sorrel pie. But it was so sour it took too much sugar to have it very often.

One of the biggest problems was fuel. Father would go to a small island in the river and chop some wood. He would also gather big, dry weeds into bundles for burning. When crops were raised they burned cobs, and sometimes corn as it was cheaper to burn corn than to haul it so far and but coal.

The early settlers had difficulties in finding trees large enough to use for the ridge pole of the sod house. One time when my parents returned from a trip, they found the ridge pole broken and the roof on the floor. I think if they ever felt like starting back to Illinois, it must have been then.

His first year in Custer County, my father set out a number of cottonwood trees. In a few years they were fair sized trees. They would break off a limb to use as a fly bush while they ate as we had no screens. Later they used mosquito bar to keep out flies and mosquitoes.

For a good many years, prairie fires were a menace to the settlers. Father made a fire break by plowing all around the place then leaving a space which he kept burnt - then more plowing. But one time a fire came with such a high wind, it jumped the fire break and came through our place, burning the inside of the barn out, but missing the house. Father was away from home, but mother saw it coming. She ran to the barn and untied the two bronco ponies. They gave a snort and a lunge and were gone. It was six weeks before they found one of them. Father had acquired these broncoes after coming to Custer County, and he had to break them to drive and ride. He had brought a good saddle with him from Illinois so whenever he could spare the time he would saddle and mount one of these ponies and proceed to break it. The pony would buck and rear and plunge, but it could never throw my father. So by degrees they became more docile until he could ride and drive them. Once he threw his coat on the ground before mounting one of the bronchos. With a wild lunge the pony was upon it and powed it almost to pieces.

Once when my parents were returning from a trip to the mill, they found themselves almost surrounded by fire. Father awlays carried matches and I guess nearly everyone did in those days. So he hurriedly set a back-fire and burned as much space as possible in the time he had to do it. Then he drove the horses into this burnt space. They snorted and plunged as the fire roared by. The heat was intense, but they were saved from the fire.

One day when mother was alone, and Indian came to the door. She had never seen an Indian but had heard all the wild tales about them, so when she looked up and saw him standing there, she was almost paralyzed with fear. He handed her a paper and on it was written a request for bread. She got the bread and wrapped it up as quickly as possible for him. She said she was certainly glad to get rid of that loaf of bread. They heard later that a bunch of Indians were trapping on the river a few miles from there.

On arising early one morning my mother saw several deer about a quarter of a mile from the house. They soon disappeared but my father found a pair of antlers near the spot. There were a great many rattlesnakes in Nebraska also in those early days. One day my brother, Oscar, not yet two years old toddled out into the yard. Mother missed him and found him at the corner of the house looking intently at something and saying "sing, sing", When mother got nearer she saw a huge rattlesnake coiled up and ready to strike. She grabbed my brother and ran, at the same time calling to father who came running and put an end to the rattlesnake and his "sing".

When I was about six years old my mother traded a heller for an old-fashioned organ. Mother would play it and she and father would sing - "My Old Kentucky Home", "Nellie Gray", "When You and I Were Young, Maggie", "Home Sweet Home" and others. Sometimes my father would tell us stories about his boyhood days in Kentucky and about the horse fairs and horse races, etc. I was always thrilled anbd never grew tired if hearing them.

My first school was in a sod schoolhouse. The boys had to carry drinking water from my uncle's place about a quarter of a mile away. we also went to church in a sod schoolhouse at Coburg. Sometimes my uncle, Ed EUBANK, came there to preach. Among the families I remember were those of Lem WOODS, Kirk AMOS, VANDENBURGs, Frank CURRYS, COMSTOCKs, WESTCOTTs, GIBBONs, SPOONERs, LOVEs, Preacher KOPPS, Preacher MANNINGS, HELLERs, CLEVELANDs, ALBERTs and KONKELs.

Of all the harrowing experiences my parents had I guess the worst was the time my father almost lost his life in a snow blizzard on his way home from Sweetwater Mill. It happened in the year 1882 and I will tell it to you as it was told to me.

One morning early in February, father arose long before daylight and started on the trip to Sweetwater Mill, leaving mother alone with two litle children, my brother, Oscar (three years old) and myself (four months old). He had his wagon loaded with wheat and corn, part of it beloonging to my Uncle Jone. The trip to the mill was practically uneventful. It was cold, but the sun was shining and the horses made pretty good time considering the load. He arrived at the mill late that evening and spent the night at the miller's home. Before they went to bed the sky clouded over and the miller said, "I wouldn't be surprised if we had some snow." Father arose before daylight the next morning and began preparing for the trip home. In the wagon he now had flour meal, bran and shorts, instead of wheat and corn. The ground was covered with snow and it was still snowing steadily. The wind was rising, making the cold more piercing. The miller said, "Dick, don't try it." But my father said, "I must go, I left Elizabeth alone with the children and them sick and not much in the house to eat, either. I'll make it all right." And with that he was off.

The first few miles were made with comparitive ease. But the snow fell thicker and faster as the wind rose to a fury. Father grew so cold he jumped out and walked. He had saved some corn for his horses so now he fed them from his hand, giving first one a bite from the ear and then the other one. All the time he was walking. Then he thought of his lunch of biscuits the miller's wife had fixed for him so he found that and started eating. The biscuits were frozen hard, but he ate them anyway. He couldn't see a thing but whirling snow and the dim outline of the horses and wagon. He didn't know where he was or which direction he was going. So he gave the horses the reins and trusted to them to take him home. Mile after mile he walked almost frozen and almost exhausted. But he would shout encourageingly to his horses, "Go on Charlie; Go on Flora." He beat his hands back and forth on his breast to keep them from freezing. On and on he plodded wondering how many miles he was from home and if he could hold out. He became so numb he almost gave up. It would be so much easier to have wrapped himself in a comfort and lay down in the wagon to sleep. Finally going down a little gully the horses began to pull harder and harder and finally they stopped. Father soon discovered they were in a big snow drift. The horses tried again and again but couldn't pull out. So there was nothing to do but to unhitch and leave the wagon there. He mounted one of the horses and started the horses the way he believed toward home, but they refused to go. They whirled and went the opposite direction and right against the wind. So father, believing in horse sense, let them go and urged them on as fast as possible. About an hour later he saw a light and knew it was home, as the horses were going that way and faster now. Soon they were in the yard and the horses went right up to the door. Father unfastened them and they went to the barn. By this time mother had the door open and father stumbled in. He was covered with snow and icycles hung from his mustache and his scarf was frozen to his face. By degrees they got his things off and mother gave him hot coffee and food. He was sore and stiff and almost sick for several days. But the very next day he and my uncle went after the wagon. They had quite a time getting it out of the drift. They could barely see the top of the wagon and the snow was packed hard around it. But by use of shovels they finally got it loosened, so the horses and an ox team pulling together soon had it out of the drift. They were not many miles from home so arrived safely with the precious load of flour, meal and feed. In after years when father would tell that story he would laugh and say, "Well, I sure earned my bread that time."