Verna Opal Kurtz was the 4th and youngest daughter of Christian Gingrich Kurtz and Hannah Jane Puterbaugh.
Bring a thimble!
In 1909-1910, my father Fred Coulter was one of two suitors of Verna Kurtz, who taught in a one-room country schoolhouse in Marshall County, Iowa. She lived at home with her parents, as did Fred, several miles away at Coulterdale Stock Farm.
Verna's older sister Mary Kurtz, also a country schoolteacher, hosted a quilting bee, inviting neighborhood ladies to come on a Sunday afternoon and help quilt a quilt-top. She sent out invitations---with the admonition to "bring your own thimble," and as a joke, she sent one to Fred, as a subtle way of informing him he wouldn't be able to court Verna that Sunday, as the Kurtz farmhouse would be full of ladies sewing.
Well, the joke was on Mary! Fred accepted the invitation, and on Sunday afternoon he showed up in his 1909 Jackson horseless carriage, wearing his Sunday-go-to-meeting best suit and tie, with a starched and ironed white shirt courtesy of his mother, and her best silver thimble in his vest pocket. I suspect he was a big hit, being the only male in the otherwise female group!
And about that other suitor of Verna's... one Saturday, Fred had to work later than usual in the field. But wanting to see his sweetheart, he shaved and bathed and threw on his best clothes and motored over as fast as the 1909 Jackson would go. It was late in the evening, but Verna was still up, having just said goodbye to her other suitor. Fred hadn't taken time to eat any supper, he was in such a rush to get there. He was hungry, and he recalled half a century later how much he had enjoyed eating the box of store-bought candy left by his rival for Verna that evening!
Fred asked Verna to marry him a number of times before she finally said yes (we Coulters are persistent!), and they wed in the new parlor of her parents' farmhouse in Taylor Township, Marshall County, Iowa, on September 14, 1910. Fred's parents retired to a fine house on the east end of Conrad, Iowa, with their young daughter Lois; and Fred and Verna set up housekeeping at Coulterdale Stock Farm in Liscomb Township, where Fred had been living.
In the second photo, Verna & Fred are pictured not long after their marriage. The top photo was taken in Chicago, where the bridal couple motored on their honeymoon in Fred's 1909 Jackson. They stayed with cousins Jack & Eva Coulter Conlan. They attended a stage play starring famed beauty Lillian Russell.
I remember my father, Fred Coulter Sr., recalling over half a century ago the beautiful chestnut-colored hair of his first wife, Verna Kurtz. It was so long that when she took all the hairpins out and let it down at night just before going to bed, she could sit on it. What she did do every night after her marriage in 1910 was sit at her dressing table and her devoted husband would take her hairbrush and give the lush tresses one hundred strokes, while they discussed the events of the day and planned for the following days. Thus was life on an Iowa farm a century ago.
How romantic! Every wife should have such a caring husband!
A skilled seamstress, Verna sewed her own beautiful wedding dress. Ten years later, she was buried in it, after lingering a week with ptomaine poisoning from pork she ate in the New Virginia Pure Food Cafe in Marshalltown, Iowa. She had gone to town to visit her eight-year-old son, Junior, who was hospitalized after having had his tonsils removed. She went uptown to the cafe for a quick lunch. Later, she said she thought the pork tasted a bit "off", but she was in a hurry to get home, so she ate it anyway. She had driven herself in the family's 1909 Jackson. By the time she got to Coulterdale, her sister-in-law Ella Coulter Diller's place nine miles north of town, where she had left her two-year-old daughter Doris on her way to town, she was feeling ill and throwing up. She picked up Doris and pressed on five miles to her own home, The Elms, northwest of Conrad, Iowa. She felt worse and the Kurtz long-time family doctor, old Doc Kaufmann was summoned. She continued to decline for several days, and my father called in another doctor for a second opinion. Young Dr. Spain correctly diagnosed the problem as ptomaine poisoning and recommended pumping Verna's stomach. She refused, since she was "in a family way," and feared the procedure might harm her unborn baby. She continued to decline, and in the end, both mother and child were lost. Verna was only 30.
When bedfast Verna realized she was dying, she asked for pen and paper, and she wrote each of her children---Junior, 8, and Doris, 2---a letter, to be given to each child when he or she came of age. Would that we could read today those letters from Mother, penned nearly a century ago.
Some of Fred's friends urged him to sue the New Virginia Pure Food Café where Verna had eaten the deadly pork, but he replied, "What good would that do? Money won't bring back my dear wife."
Bring a thimble!
In 1909-1910, my father Fred Coulter was one of two suitors of Verna Kurtz, who taught in a one-room country schoolhouse in Marshall County, Iowa. She lived at home with her parents, as did Fred, several miles away at Coulterdale Stock Farm.
Verna's older sister Mary Kurtz, also a country schoolteacher, hosted a quilting bee, inviting neighborhood ladies to come on a Sunday afternoon and help quilt a quilt-top. She sent out invitations---with the admonition to "bring your own thimble," and as a joke, she sent one to Fred, as a subtle way of informing him he wouldn't be able to court Verna that Sunday, as the Kurtz farmhouse would be full of ladies sewing.
Well, the joke was on Mary! Fred accepted the invitation, and on Sunday afternoon he showed up in his 1909 Jackson horseless carriage, wearing his Sunday-go-to-meeting best suit and tie, with a starched and ironed white shirt courtesy of his mother, and her best silver thimble in his vest pocket. I suspect he was a big hit, being the only male in the otherwise female group!
And about that other suitor of Verna's... one Saturday, Fred had to work later than usual in the field. But wanting to see his sweetheart, he shaved and bathed and threw on his best clothes and motored over as fast as the 1909 Jackson would go. It was late in the evening, but Verna was still up, having just said goodbye to her other suitor. Fred hadn't taken time to eat any supper, he was in such a rush to get there. He was hungry, and he recalled half a century later how much he had enjoyed eating the box of store-bought candy left by his rival for Verna that evening!
Fred asked Verna to marry him a number of times before she finally said yes (we Coulters are persistent!), and they wed in the new parlor of her parents' farmhouse in Taylor Township, Marshall County, Iowa, on September 14, 1910. Fred's parents retired to a fine house on the east end of Conrad, Iowa, with their young daughter Lois; and Fred and Verna set up housekeeping at Coulterdale Stock Farm in Liscomb Township, where Fred had been living.
In the second photo, Verna & Fred are pictured not long after their marriage. The top photo was taken in Chicago, where the bridal couple motored on their honeymoon in Fred's 1909 Jackson. They stayed with cousins Jack & Eva Coulter Conlan. They attended a stage play starring famed beauty Lillian Russell.
I remember my father, Fred Coulter Sr., recalling over half a century ago the beautiful chestnut-colored hair of his first wife, Verna Kurtz. It was so long that when she took all the hairpins out and let it down at night just before going to bed, she could sit on it. What she did do every night after her marriage in 1910 was sit at her dressing table and her devoted husband would take her hairbrush and give the lush tresses one hundred strokes, while they discussed the events of the day and planned for the following days. Thus was life on an Iowa farm a century ago.
How romantic! Every wife should have such a caring husband!
A skilled seamstress, Verna sewed her own beautiful wedding dress. Ten years later, she was buried in it, after lingering a week with ptomaine poisoning from pork she ate in the New Virginia Pure Food Cafe in Marshalltown, Iowa. She had gone to town to visit her eight-year-old son, Junior, who was hospitalized after having had his tonsils removed. She went uptown to the cafe for a quick lunch. Later, she said she thought the pork tasted a bit "off", but she was in a hurry to get home, so she ate it anyway. She had driven herself in the family's 1909 Jackson. By the time she got to Coulterdale, her sister-in-law Ella Coulter Diller's place nine miles north of town, where she had left her two-year-old daughter Doris on her way to town, she was feeling ill and throwing up. She picked up Doris and pressed on five miles to her own home, The Elms, northwest of Conrad, Iowa. She felt worse and the Kurtz long-time family doctor, old Doc Kaufmann was summoned. She continued to decline for several days, and my father called in another doctor for a second opinion. Young Dr. Spain correctly diagnosed the problem as ptomaine poisoning and recommended pumping Verna's stomach. She refused, since she was "in a family way," and feared the procedure might harm her unborn baby. She continued to decline, and in the end, both mother and child were lost. Verna was only 30.
When bedfast Verna realized she was dying, she asked for pen and paper, and she wrote each of her children---Junior, 8, and Doris, 2---a letter, to be given to each child when he or she came of age. Would that we could read today those letters from Mother, penned nearly a century ago.
Some of Fred's friends urged him to sue the New Virginia Pure Food Café where Verna had eaten the deadly pork, but he replied, "What good would that do? Money won't bring back my dear wife."
Verna Opal Kurtz was the 4th and youngest daughter of Christian Gingrich Kurtz and Hannah Jane Puterbaugh.
Bring a thimble!
In 1909-1910, my father Fred Coulter was one of two suitors of Verna Kurtz, who taught in a one-room country schoolhouse in Marshall County, Iowa. She lived at home with her parents, as did Fred, several miles away at Coulterdale Stock Farm.
Verna's older sister Mary Kurtz, also a country schoolteacher, hosted a quilting bee, inviting neighborhood ladies to come on a Sunday afternoon and help quilt a quilt-top. She sent out invitations---with the admonition to "bring your own thimble," and as a joke, she sent one to Fred, as a subtle way of informing him he wouldn't be able to court Verna that Sunday, as the Kurtz farmhouse would be full of ladies sewing.
Well, the joke was on Mary! Fred accepted the invitation, and on Sunday afternoon he showed up in his 1909 Jackson horseless carriage, wearing his Sunday-go-to-meeting best suit and tie, with a starched and ironed white shirt courtesy of his mother, and her best silver thimble in his vest pocket. I suspect he was a big hit, being the only male in the otherwise female group!
And about that other suitor of Verna's... one Saturday, Fred had to work later than usual in the field. But wanting to see his sweetheart, he shaved and bathed and threw on his best clothes and motored over as fast as the 1909 Jackson would go. It was late in the evening, but Verna was still up, having just said goodbye to her other suitor. Fred hadn't taken time to eat any supper, he was in such a rush to get there. He was hungry, and he recalled half a century later how much he had enjoyed eating the box of store-bought candy left by his rival for Verna that evening!
Fred asked Verna to marry him a number of times before she finally said yes (we Coulters are persistent!), and they wed in the new parlor of her parents' farmhouse in Taylor Township, Marshall County, Iowa, on September 14, 1910. Fred's parents retired to a fine house on the east end of Conrad, Iowa, with their young daughter Lois; and Fred and Verna set up housekeeping at Coulterdale Stock Farm in Liscomb Township, where Fred had been living.
In the second photo, Verna & Fred are pictured not long after their marriage. The top photo was taken in Chicago, where the bridal couple motored on their honeymoon in Fred's 1909 Jackson. They stayed with cousins Jack & Eva Coulter Conlan. They attended a stage play starring famed beauty Lillian Russell.
I remember my father, Fred Coulter Sr., recalling over half a century ago the beautiful chestnut-colored hair of his first wife, Verna Kurtz. It was so long that when she took all the hairpins out and let it down at night just before going to bed, she could sit on it. What she did do every night after her marriage in 1910 was sit at her dressing table and her devoted husband would take her hairbrush and give the lush tresses one hundred strokes, while they discussed the events of the day and planned for the following days. Thus was life on an Iowa farm a century ago.
How romantic! Every wife should have such a caring husband!
A skilled seamstress, Verna sewed her own beautiful wedding dress. Ten years later, she was buried in it, after lingering a week with ptomaine poisoning from pork she ate in the New Virginia Pure Food Cafe in Marshalltown, Iowa. She had gone to town to visit her eight-year-old son, Junior, who was hospitalized after having had his tonsils removed. She went uptown to the cafe for a quick lunch. Later, she said she thought the pork tasted a bit "off", but she was in a hurry to get home, so she ate it anyway. She had driven herself in the family's 1909 Jackson. By the time she got to Coulterdale, her sister-in-law Ella Coulter Diller's place nine miles north of town, where she had left her two-year-old daughter Doris on her way to town, she was feeling ill and throwing up. She picked up Doris and pressed on five miles to her own home, The Elms, northwest of Conrad, Iowa. She felt worse and the Kurtz long-time family doctor, old Doc Kaufmann was summoned. She continued to decline for several days, and my father called in another doctor for a second opinion. Young Dr. Spain correctly diagnosed the problem as ptomaine poisoning and recommended pumping Verna's stomach. She refused, since she was "in a family way," and feared the procedure might harm her unborn baby. She continued to decline, and in the end, both mother and child were lost. Verna was only 30.
When bedfast Verna realized she was dying, she asked for pen and paper, and she wrote each of her children---Junior, 8, and Doris, 2---a letter, to be given to each child when he or she came of age. Would that we could read today those letters from Mother, penned nearly a century ago.
Some of Fred's friends urged him to sue the New Virginia Pure Food Café where Verna had eaten the deadly pork, but he replied, "What good would that do? Money won't bring back my dear wife."
Bring a thimble!
In 1909-1910, my father Fred Coulter was one of two suitors of Verna Kurtz, who taught in a one-room country schoolhouse in Marshall County, Iowa. She lived at home with her parents, as did Fred, several miles away at Coulterdale Stock Farm.
Verna's older sister Mary Kurtz, also a country schoolteacher, hosted a quilting bee, inviting neighborhood ladies to come on a Sunday afternoon and help quilt a quilt-top. She sent out invitations---with the admonition to "bring your own thimble," and as a joke, she sent one to Fred, as a subtle way of informing him he wouldn't be able to court Verna that Sunday, as the Kurtz farmhouse would be full of ladies sewing.
Well, the joke was on Mary! Fred accepted the invitation, and on Sunday afternoon he showed up in his 1909 Jackson horseless carriage, wearing his Sunday-go-to-meeting best suit and tie, with a starched and ironed white shirt courtesy of his mother, and her best silver thimble in his vest pocket. I suspect he was a big hit, being the only male in the otherwise female group!
And about that other suitor of Verna's... one Saturday, Fred had to work later than usual in the field. But wanting to see his sweetheart, he shaved and bathed and threw on his best clothes and motored over as fast as the 1909 Jackson would go. It was late in the evening, but Verna was still up, having just said goodbye to her other suitor. Fred hadn't taken time to eat any supper, he was in such a rush to get there. He was hungry, and he recalled half a century later how much he had enjoyed eating the box of store-bought candy left by his rival for Verna that evening!
Fred asked Verna to marry him a number of times before she finally said yes (we Coulters are persistent!), and they wed in the new parlor of her parents' farmhouse in Taylor Township, Marshall County, Iowa, on September 14, 1910. Fred's parents retired to a fine house on the east end of Conrad, Iowa, with their young daughter Lois; and Fred and Verna set up housekeeping at Coulterdale Stock Farm in Liscomb Township, where Fred had been living.
In the second photo, Verna & Fred are pictured not long after their marriage. The top photo was taken in Chicago, where the bridal couple motored on their honeymoon in Fred's 1909 Jackson. They stayed with cousins Jack & Eva Coulter Conlan. They attended a stage play starring famed beauty Lillian Russell.
I remember my father, Fred Coulter Sr., recalling over half a century ago the beautiful chestnut-colored hair of his first wife, Verna Kurtz. It was so long that when she took all the hairpins out and let it down at night just before going to bed, she could sit on it. What she did do every night after her marriage in 1910 was sit at her dressing table and her devoted husband would take her hairbrush and give the lush tresses one hundred strokes, while they discussed the events of the day and planned for the following days. Thus was life on an Iowa farm a century ago.
How romantic! Every wife should have such a caring husband!
A skilled seamstress, Verna sewed her own beautiful wedding dress. Ten years later, she was buried in it, after lingering a week with ptomaine poisoning from pork she ate in the New Virginia Pure Food Cafe in Marshalltown, Iowa. She had gone to town to visit her eight-year-old son, Junior, who was hospitalized after having had his tonsils removed. She went uptown to the cafe for a quick lunch. Later, she said she thought the pork tasted a bit "off", but she was in a hurry to get home, so she ate it anyway. She had driven herself in the family's 1909 Jackson. By the time she got to Coulterdale, her sister-in-law Ella Coulter Diller's place nine miles north of town, where she had left her two-year-old daughter Doris on her way to town, she was feeling ill and throwing up. She picked up Doris and pressed on five miles to her own home, The Elms, northwest of Conrad, Iowa. She felt worse and the Kurtz long-time family doctor, old Doc Kaufmann was summoned. She continued to decline for several days, and my father called in another doctor for a second opinion. Young Dr. Spain correctly diagnosed the problem as ptomaine poisoning and recommended pumping Verna's stomach. She refused, since she was "in a family way," and feared the procedure might harm her unborn baby. She continued to decline, and in the end, both mother and child were lost. Verna was only 30.
When bedfast Verna realized she was dying, she asked for pen and paper, and she wrote each of her children---Junior, 8, and Doris, 2---a letter, to be given to each child when he or she came of age. Would that we could read today those letters from Mother, penned nearly a century ago.
Some of Fred's friends urged him to sue the New Virginia Pure Food Café where Verna had eaten the deadly pork, but he replied, "What good would that do? Money won't bring back my dear wife."
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