Jacob married Nancy Elizabeth Gregg 15 Oct 1877, Huntington, Huntington County, Indiana.
SOURCE: Obituary for Jacob Bowers, Herald-Press, Huntington, Indiana, Friday 25 September 1942
JACOB BOWERS DIES AFTER A LONG ILLNESS
Funeral Services To Be Held Saturday Afternoon
Jacob Bowers, 88, died at 5:15 p. m. Thursday at his home in Bowerstown, Union Township, Huntington Route three, after being in failing health for one year and seriously ill for two weeks.
Mr. Bowers was born in Auglaize County, Ohio, August 12, 1854 to Daniel and Mary Bower. He came to Huntington County with his parents when he was seven years old and has resided here since. His first marriage was to Elizabeth Gregg, who is dead. His second marriage was to Alice Williams. Both are dead.
Surviving are two sons form the first marriage, William Oscar Bowers and Samuel Howard Bowers and one daughter, Mrs. Edith May Drabenstot, all of Union Township. there are 17 grandchildren, 15 great-grandchildren. One brother, Orlando Bowers, lives in this city.
Mr. Bowers was a member of the Church of God. He was a stone and brick mason for many years.
The body was removed to the Bailey Funeral Home where friends may call.
Funeral services will be held at 2 p. m. Saturday at the Bailey Chapel with the Rev. H. R. Shock officiating.
Burial will be at Zion Cemetery.
-------------------
SOURCE: Bash Newspaper Columns, V. 2 - 19
JACOB BOWERS TELLS OF ADVENTURES WHEN HUNTINGTON WAS NEW
Lives of Twin Brothers Are Coincident, Yet Without Flaw by F. S. Bash
The birth of a child is a momentous but startling to the whole neighborhood. We are told that the pathway of twins before birth is beset by perils and uncertainty, the more or less intimate relations
with each other bringing about a liability for malformation and amalgamation, or attachments as were true of the Siamese twins exploited when I was a boy. They were connected with a patent coupler of some kind which entered the body of each in the region of the vest pocket. They lived to reach the age of sixty-three if I remember correctly.
Of course such a bond of union was not only quite inconvenient but awkward and embarrassing because it threw Eng and Chang in each other's society too much for their own happiness. When boys, if Eng was fond of green apples, Chang had to suffer the same pangs of colic and trudge along with his brother to the doctor's office for paregoric. And as they grew up, think of their troubles and vexations over courtship and marriage! If one were inclined to religion and did not believe as his brother regarding baptism, in case Chang preferred immersion, Eng had to go under, too. Or, take it in lodge matters. If one wished to be initiated and the other not, how did they manage the password and secret work of the order.
Jacob and George Bowers are twins and were born normal, separate and distinct, with no sign of a link to prove cumbersome and irksome. While each has been free to go anywhere he chooses without the presence of the other, yet there seems to be a mysterious, subtle tie between them that has influenced them to cling closely to each other, share each other's joys and sorrows and always work on the same jobs all their lives. Their loyalty to each other has been phenomenal, not to say beautiful. Like Ruth and Naomi of old, they prefer to stay together. Jacob and George were born seventy-six years ago the 12th of August. The place was near Lima, Allen County, Ohio. When seven years old
the twins came with their parents and other members of the family to Huntington county, Indiana, settling near the "Ox Bow," in Little river, a few miles east of the county seat, where they founded the village of Bowerstown.
Bought the Whitestine Tract.
In speaking of his early recollections, Jacob said: "One of my earliest recollections was back in Ohio when I went with my older brother to the woods to search for the cows. We found them and just then a wild animal of some kind let loose a scream right near us that stampeded the cattle and just about scared us stiff. It must have been a panther. Holy smoke! How we did run for home! We moved out here in a covered wagon in the fall when peaches were ripe. We stopped at a place where a farmer had a peach orchard and he told us to help ourselves to ripe peaches. I'll never forget how good they were."
"That was in the fall of ‘61. My father was Daniel Bowers. He bought the Bill Whitestine land, only a little of which was cleared. The house was built of hewed, yellow poplar logs and is still in use right here in Bowerstown, but years ago was weather boarded and remodeled. Jim Edgingtion lives there. Some after we came here, Whitestine lost his life when helping to raise Charley French's house.
He was helping to push a big log up on the building and a skid broke, letting the log come back and it killed Whitestine. Everything was a wilderness of woods right around here and was so all the way to
Huntington except down at Murray's saw-mill, south of the river. My father had a hundred acres and he gave a mortgage for back payments. He depended on the sale of cordwood to the Wabash railroad company for the money to meet his notes. Old Bill told him that he would foreclose the mortgage right off if he failed to pay each note when due.
"Great guns! How we did buckle in and work to get the wood ready and deliver it to the railroad right of way across the river from us."
When Fishing Was Good
"The only time we were worried was when the water was high and could not be forded with the team and wagon. Before the river was ditched it spread out over a wide stretch and was deep in places. Say! Do you know how we managed it to get that wood across? We rafted it! You bet we did! It was a ground hog case. We had to have the money. Some of us would be over on the opposite shore with ropes fast to trees while the others would be on this side to load the raft and start
it over. They would pull it over and we'd pull back the empty raft. We would all be wet as muskrats, but that made no difference as long as old Bill couldn't close in on us. Every payment was met the day it was due until the last note was taken up. That was a happy time for my father. But he did not live to enjoy it long. He died of consumption at the age of forty-six."
"My brother Amos enjoyed handling a gun. Squirrels, pheasants and some wild turkeys could be shot without much trouble. I often went with Amos just to carry the game. He would kill as high as twenty five or thirty gray and black squirrels, then we'd jerk the hides off, take the whole bunch to town and sell them for ten cents apiece. People were always ready to buy at that price and the squirrels were so thick in the woods that we could make good wages killing, skinning and selling. You can believe it or not, but it is the truth that I remember one morning when Amos shot eight squirrels from an old snag a little ways from our back door before breakfast. I saw him do it!"
"Amos was the fisherman of the family, too. He caught a great many white pike in the river, some time that weighed from three to five pounds each. He and my uncle, Isaiah Schwartz, was having no luck. Then all at once he hooked one that was hard to handle.
All Isaiah could do was to keep the line tight and let one fish have its own way. In about twenty minutes it was tired out and was brought up near enough shore so that Amos struck it a stunning blow on the head and it was hauled out of the water. The pike weighed eighteen and a half pounds and had teeth like a wildcat. His head weighed two pounds and a half. But fishing is now bum. I tried it this summer and didn't get a nibble."
Barney Sutton A Hero
It was learned from Jacob during this conversation that only himself, Landa and George Bowers of the family are now living. In the old days the boys of Bowerstown and surrounding neighborhood were often chased out of town by the Huntington boys. Jake declares the town boys were hostile to the country lads and always had the advantage on the account of numbers. "Sometimes we couldn't escape a fight to do our best," said Jake, "but we had one guy in our bunch that was too much for the town boys. Barney Sutton was as quick as a cat and could fight like a demon. He made his home at my mother's for a long time," continued Jake, "and we all thought the world and all of him. His sister married Dr. Kemp, of Roanoke. Barney was a plasterer by trade. He was a kind of doctor too, and doggone if he couldn't do about as well as any in curing the shakes. Quinine was the chi remedy. I remember the last time I had the shakes and almost shook my joints apart. That time my mother made me tie a string around a tree three times and each time the knot was tied I had to say: Ague, I now give you to the tree! By jingo! I never had it after that."
SOURCE: Obituary for Jacob Bowers, Herald-Press, Huntington, Indiana, Friday 25 September 1942
JACOB BOWERS DIES AFTER A LONG ILLNESS
Funeral Services To Be Held Saturday Afternoon
Jacob Bowers, 88, died at 5:15 p. m. Thursday at his home in Bowerstown, Union Township, Huntington Route three, after being in failing health for one year and seriously ill for two weeks.
Mr. Bowers was born in Auglaize County, Ohio, August 12, 1854 to Daniel and Mary Bower. He came to Huntington County with his parents when he was seven years old and has resided here since. His first marriage was to Elizabeth Gregg, who is dead. His second marriage was to Alice Williams. Both are dead.
Surviving are two sons form the first marriage, William Oscar Bowers and Samuel Howard Bowers and one daughter, Mrs. Edith May Drabenstot, all of Union Township. there are 17 grandchildren, 15 great-grandchildren. One brother, Orlando Bowers, lives in this city.
Mr. Bowers was a member of the Church of God. He was a stone and brick mason for many years.
The body was removed to the Bailey Funeral Home where friends may call.
Funeral services will be held at 2 p. m. Saturday at the Bailey Chapel with the Rev. H. R. Shock officiating.
Burial will be at Zion Cemetery.
-------------------
SOURCE: Bash Newspaper Columns, V. 2 - 19
JACOB BOWERS TELLS OF ADVENTURES WHEN HUNTINGTON WAS NEW
Lives of Twin Brothers Are Coincident, Yet Without Flaw by F. S. Bash
The birth of a child is a momentous but startling to the whole neighborhood. We are told that the pathway of twins before birth is beset by perils and uncertainty, the more or less intimate relations
with each other bringing about a liability for malformation and amalgamation, or attachments as were true of the Siamese twins exploited when I was a boy. They were connected with a patent coupler of some kind which entered the body of each in the region of the vest pocket. They lived to reach the age of sixty-three if I remember correctly.
Of course such a bond of union was not only quite inconvenient but awkward and embarrassing because it threw Eng and Chang in each other's society too much for their own happiness. When boys, if Eng was fond of green apples, Chang had to suffer the same pangs of colic and trudge along with his brother to the doctor's office for paregoric. And as they grew up, think of their troubles and vexations over courtship and marriage! If one were inclined to religion and did not believe as his brother regarding baptism, in case Chang preferred immersion, Eng had to go under, too. Or, take it in lodge matters. If one wished to be initiated and the other not, how did they manage the password and secret work of the order.
Jacob and George Bowers are twins and were born normal, separate and distinct, with no sign of a link to prove cumbersome and irksome. While each has been free to go anywhere he chooses without the presence of the other, yet there seems to be a mysterious, subtle tie between them that has influenced them to cling closely to each other, share each other's joys and sorrows and always work on the same jobs all their lives. Their loyalty to each other has been phenomenal, not to say beautiful. Like Ruth and Naomi of old, they prefer to stay together. Jacob and George were born seventy-six years ago the 12th of August. The place was near Lima, Allen County, Ohio. When seven years old
the twins came with their parents and other members of the family to Huntington county, Indiana, settling near the "Ox Bow," in Little river, a few miles east of the county seat, where they founded the village of Bowerstown.
Bought the Whitestine Tract.
In speaking of his early recollections, Jacob said: "One of my earliest recollections was back in Ohio when I went with my older brother to the woods to search for the cows. We found them and just then a wild animal of some kind let loose a scream right near us that stampeded the cattle and just about scared us stiff. It must have been a panther. Holy smoke! How we did run for home! We moved out here in a covered wagon in the fall when peaches were ripe. We stopped at a place where a farmer had a peach orchard and he told us to help ourselves to ripe peaches. I'll never forget how good they were."
"That was in the fall of ‘61. My father was Daniel Bowers. He bought the Bill Whitestine land, only a little of which was cleared. The house was built of hewed, yellow poplar logs and is still in use right here in Bowerstown, but years ago was weather boarded and remodeled. Jim Edgingtion lives there. Some after we came here, Whitestine lost his life when helping to raise Charley French's house.
He was helping to push a big log up on the building and a skid broke, letting the log come back and it killed Whitestine. Everything was a wilderness of woods right around here and was so all the way to
Huntington except down at Murray's saw-mill, south of the river. My father had a hundred acres and he gave a mortgage for back payments. He depended on the sale of cordwood to the Wabash railroad company for the money to meet his notes. Old Bill told him that he would foreclose the mortgage right off if he failed to pay each note when due.
"Great guns! How we did buckle in and work to get the wood ready and deliver it to the railroad right of way across the river from us."
When Fishing Was Good
"The only time we were worried was when the water was high and could not be forded with the team and wagon. Before the river was ditched it spread out over a wide stretch and was deep in places. Say! Do you know how we managed it to get that wood across? We rafted it! You bet we did! It was a ground hog case. We had to have the money. Some of us would be over on the opposite shore with ropes fast to trees while the others would be on this side to load the raft and start
it over. They would pull it over and we'd pull back the empty raft. We would all be wet as muskrats, but that made no difference as long as old Bill couldn't close in on us. Every payment was met the day it was due until the last note was taken up. That was a happy time for my father. But he did not live to enjoy it long. He died of consumption at the age of forty-six."
"My brother Amos enjoyed handling a gun. Squirrels, pheasants and some wild turkeys could be shot without much trouble. I often went with Amos just to carry the game. He would kill as high as twenty five or thirty gray and black squirrels, then we'd jerk the hides off, take the whole bunch to town and sell them for ten cents apiece. People were always ready to buy at that price and the squirrels were so thick in the woods that we could make good wages killing, skinning and selling. You can believe it or not, but it is the truth that I remember one morning when Amos shot eight squirrels from an old snag a little ways from our back door before breakfast. I saw him do it!"
"Amos was the fisherman of the family, too. He caught a great many white pike in the river, some time that weighed from three to five pounds each. He and my uncle, Isaiah Schwartz, was having no luck. Then all at once he hooked one that was hard to handle.
All Isaiah could do was to keep the line tight and let one fish have its own way. In about twenty minutes it was tired out and was brought up near enough shore so that Amos struck it a stunning blow on the head and it was hauled out of the water. The pike weighed eighteen and a half pounds and had teeth like a wildcat. His head weighed two pounds and a half. But fishing is now bum. I tried it this summer and didn't get a nibble."
Barney Sutton A Hero
It was learned from Jacob during this conversation that only himself, Landa and George Bowers of the family are now living. In the old days the boys of Bowerstown and surrounding neighborhood were often chased out of town by the Huntington boys. Jake declares the town boys were hostile to the country lads and always had the advantage on the account of numbers. "Sometimes we couldn't escape a fight to do our best," said Jake, "but we had one guy in our bunch that was too much for the town boys. Barney Sutton was as quick as a cat and could fight like a demon. He made his home at my mother's for a long time," continued Jake, "and we all thought the world and all of him. His sister married Dr. Kemp, of Roanoke. Barney was a plasterer by trade. He was a kind of doctor too, and doggone if he couldn't do about as well as any in curing the shakes. Quinine was the chi remedy. I remember the last time I had the shakes and almost shook my joints apart. That time my mother made me tie a string around a tree three times and each time the knot was tied I had to say: Ague, I now give you to the tree! By jingo! I never had it after that."
Jacob married Nancy Elizabeth Gregg 15 Oct 1877, Huntington, Huntington County, Indiana.
SOURCE: Obituary for Jacob Bowers, Herald-Press, Huntington, Indiana, Friday 25 September 1942
JACOB BOWERS DIES AFTER A LONG ILLNESS
Funeral Services To Be Held Saturday Afternoon
Jacob Bowers, 88, died at 5:15 p. m. Thursday at his home in Bowerstown, Union Township, Huntington Route three, after being in failing health for one year and seriously ill for two weeks.
Mr. Bowers was born in Auglaize County, Ohio, August 12, 1854 to Daniel and Mary Bower. He came to Huntington County with his parents when he was seven years old and has resided here since. His first marriage was to Elizabeth Gregg, who is dead. His second marriage was to Alice Williams. Both are dead.
Surviving are two sons form the first marriage, William Oscar Bowers and Samuel Howard Bowers and one daughter, Mrs. Edith May Drabenstot, all of Union Township. there are 17 grandchildren, 15 great-grandchildren. One brother, Orlando Bowers, lives in this city.
Mr. Bowers was a member of the Church of God. He was a stone and brick mason for many years.
The body was removed to the Bailey Funeral Home where friends may call.
Funeral services will be held at 2 p. m. Saturday at the Bailey Chapel with the Rev. H. R. Shock officiating.
Burial will be at Zion Cemetery.
-------------------
SOURCE: Bash Newspaper Columns, V. 2 - 19
JACOB BOWERS TELLS OF ADVENTURES WHEN HUNTINGTON WAS NEW
Lives of Twin Brothers Are Coincident, Yet Without Flaw by F. S. Bash
The birth of a child is a momentous but startling to the whole neighborhood. We are told that the pathway of twins before birth is beset by perils and uncertainty, the more or less intimate relations
with each other bringing about a liability for malformation and amalgamation, or attachments as were true of the Siamese twins exploited when I was a boy. They were connected with a patent coupler of some kind which entered the body of each in the region of the vest pocket. They lived to reach the age of sixty-three if I remember correctly.
Of course such a bond of union was not only quite inconvenient but awkward and embarrassing because it threw Eng and Chang in each other's society too much for their own happiness. When boys, if Eng was fond of green apples, Chang had to suffer the same pangs of colic and trudge along with his brother to the doctor's office for paregoric. And as they grew up, think of their troubles and vexations over courtship and marriage! If one were inclined to religion and did not believe as his brother regarding baptism, in case Chang preferred immersion, Eng had to go under, too. Or, take it in lodge matters. If one wished to be initiated and the other not, how did they manage the password and secret work of the order.
Jacob and George Bowers are twins and were born normal, separate and distinct, with no sign of a link to prove cumbersome and irksome. While each has been free to go anywhere he chooses without the presence of the other, yet there seems to be a mysterious, subtle tie between them that has influenced them to cling closely to each other, share each other's joys and sorrows and always work on the same jobs all their lives. Their loyalty to each other has been phenomenal, not to say beautiful. Like Ruth and Naomi of old, they prefer to stay together. Jacob and George were born seventy-six years ago the 12th of August. The place was near Lima, Allen County, Ohio. When seven years old
the twins came with their parents and other members of the family to Huntington county, Indiana, settling near the "Ox Bow," in Little river, a few miles east of the county seat, where they founded the village of Bowerstown.
Bought the Whitestine Tract.
In speaking of his early recollections, Jacob said: "One of my earliest recollections was back in Ohio when I went with my older brother to the woods to search for the cows. We found them and just then a wild animal of some kind let loose a scream right near us that stampeded the cattle and just about scared us stiff. It must have been a panther. Holy smoke! How we did run for home! We moved out here in a covered wagon in the fall when peaches were ripe. We stopped at a place where a farmer had a peach orchard and he told us to help ourselves to ripe peaches. I'll never forget how good they were."
"That was in the fall of ‘61. My father was Daniel Bowers. He bought the Bill Whitestine land, only a little of which was cleared. The house was built of hewed, yellow poplar logs and is still in use right here in Bowerstown, but years ago was weather boarded and remodeled. Jim Edgingtion lives there. Some after we came here, Whitestine lost his life when helping to raise Charley French's house.
He was helping to push a big log up on the building and a skid broke, letting the log come back and it killed Whitestine. Everything was a wilderness of woods right around here and was so all the way to
Huntington except down at Murray's saw-mill, south of the river. My father had a hundred acres and he gave a mortgage for back payments. He depended on the sale of cordwood to the Wabash railroad company for the money to meet his notes. Old Bill told him that he would foreclose the mortgage right off if he failed to pay each note when due.
"Great guns! How we did buckle in and work to get the wood ready and deliver it to the railroad right of way across the river from us."
When Fishing Was Good
"The only time we were worried was when the water was high and could not be forded with the team and wagon. Before the river was ditched it spread out over a wide stretch and was deep in places. Say! Do you know how we managed it to get that wood across? We rafted it! You bet we did! It was a ground hog case. We had to have the money. Some of us would be over on the opposite shore with ropes fast to trees while the others would be on this side to load the raft and start
it over. They would pull it over and we'd pull back the empty raft. We would all be wet as muskrats, but that made no difference as long as old Bill couldn't close in on us. Every payment was met the day it was due until the last note was taken up. That was a happy time for my father. But he did not live to enjoy it long. He died of consumption at the age of forty-six."
"My brother Amos enjoyed handling a gun. Squirrels, pheasants and some wild turkeys could be shot without much trouble. I often went with Amos just to carry the game. He would kill as high as twenty five or thirty gray and black squirrels, then we'd jerk the hides off, take the whole bunch to town and sell them for ten cents apiece. People were always ready to buy at that price and the squirrels were so thick in the woods that we could make good wages killing, skinning and selling. You can believe it or not, but it is the truth that I remember one morning when Amos shot eight squirrels from an old snag a little ways from our back door before breakfast. I saw him do it!"
"Amos was the fisherman of the family, too. He caught a great many white pike in the river, some time that weighed from three to five pounds each. He and my uncle, Isaiah Schwartz, was having no luck. Then all at once he hooked one that was hard to handle.
All Isaiah could do was to keep the line tight and let one fish have its own way. In about twenty minutes it was tired out and was brought up near enough shore so that Amos struck it a stunning blow on the head and it was hauled out of the water. The pike weighed eighteen and a half pounds and had teeth like a wildcat. His head weighed two pounds and a half. But fishing is now bum. I tried it this summer and didn't get a nibble."
Barney Sutton A Hero
It was learned from Jacob during this conversation that only himself, Landa and George Bowers of the family are now living. In the old days the boys of Bowerstown and surrounding neighborhood were often chased out of town by the Huntington boys. Jake declares the town boys were hostile to the country lads and always had the advantage on the account of numbers. "Sometimes we couldn't escape a fight to do our best," said Jake, "but we had one guy in our bunch that was too much for the town boys. Barney Sutton was as quick as a cat and could fight like a demon. He made his home at my mother's for a long time," continued Jake, "and we all thought the world and all of him. His sister married Dr. Kemp, of Roanoke. Barney was a plasterer by trade. He was a kind of doctor too, and doggone if he couldn't do about as well as any in curing the shakes. Quinine was the chi remedy. I remember the last time I had the shakes and almost shook my joints apart. That time my mother made me tie a string around a tree three times and each time the knot was tied I had to say: Ague, I now give you to the tree! By jingo! I never had it after that."
SOURCE: Obituary for Jacob Bowers, Herald-Press, Huntington, Indiana, Friday 25 September 1942
JACOB BOWERS DIES AFTER A LONG ILLNESS
Funeral Services To Be Held Saturday Afternoon
Jacob Bowers, 88, died at 5:15 p. m. Thursday at his home in Bowerstown, Union Township, Huntington Route three, after being in failing health for one year and seriously ill for two weeks.
Mr. Bowers was born in Auglaize County, Ohio, August 12, 1854 to Daniel and Mary Bower. He came to Huntington County with his parents when he was seven years old and has resided here since. His first marriage was to Elizabeth Gregg, who is dead. His second marriage was to Alice Williams. Both are dead.
Surviving are two sons form the first marriage, William Oscar Bowers and Samuel Howard Bowers and one daughter, Mrs. Edith May Drabenstot, all of Union Township. there are 17 grandchildren, 15 great-grandchildren. One brother, Orlando Bowers, lives in this city.
Mr. Bowers was a member of the Church of God. He was a stone and brick mason for many years.
The body was removed to the Bailey Funeral Home where friends may call.
Funeral services will be held at 2 p. m. Saturday at the Bailey Chapel with the Rev. H. R. Shock officiating.
Burial will be at Zion Cemetery.
-------------------
SOURCE: Bash Newspaper Columns, V. 2 - 19
JACOB BOWERS TELLS OF ADVENTURES WHEN HUNTINGTON WAS NEW
Lives of Twin Brothers Are Coincident, Yet Without Flaw by F. S. Bash
The birth of a child is a momentous but startling to the whole neighborhood. We are told that the pathway of twins before birth is beset by perils and uncertainty, the more or less intimate relations
with each other bringing about a liability for malformation and amalgamation, or attachments as were true of the Siamese twins exploited when I was a boy. They were connected with a patent coupler of some kind which entered the body of each in the region of the vest pocket. They lived to reach the age of sixty-three if I remember correctly.
Of course such a bond of union was not only quite inconvenient but awkward and embarrassing because it threw Eng and Chang in each other's society too much for their own happiness. When boys, if Eng was fond of green apples, Chang had to suffer the same pangs of colic and trudge along with his brother to the doctor's office for paregoric. And as they grew up, think of their troubles and vexations over courtship and marriage! If one were inclined to religion and did not believe as his brother regarding baptism, in case Chang preferred immersion, Eng had to go under, too. Or, take it in lodge matters. If one wished to be initiated and the other not, how did they manage the password and secret work of the order.
Jacob and George Bowers are twins and were born normal, separate and distinct, with no sign of a link to prove cumbersome and irksome. While each has been free to go anywhere he chooses without the presence of the other, yet there seems to be a mysterious, subtle tie between them that has influenced them to cling closely to each other, share each other's joys and sorrows and always work on the same jobs all their lives. Their loyalty to each other has been phenomenal, not to say beautiful. Like Ruth and Naomi of old, they prefer to stay together. Jacob and George were born seventy-six years ago the 12th of August. The place was near Lima, Allen County, Ohio. When seven years old
the twins came with their parents and other members of the family to Huntington county, Indiana, settling near the "Ox Bow," in Little river, a few miles east of the county seat, where they founded the village of Bowerstown.
Bought the Whitestine Tract.
In speaking of his early recollections, Jacob said: "One of my earliest recollections was back in Ohio when I went with my older brother to the woods to search for the cows. We found them and just then a wild animal of some kind let loose a scream right near us that stampeded the cattle and just about scared us stiff. It must have been a panther. Holy smoke! How we did run for home! We moved out here in a covered wagon in the fall when peaches were ripe. We stopped at a place where a farmer had a peach orchard and he told us to help ourselves to ripe peaches. I'll never forget how good they were."
"That was in the fall of ‘61. My father was Daniel Bowers. He bought the Bill Whitestine land, only a little of which was cleared. The house was built of hewed, yellow poplar logs and is still in use right here in Bowerstown, but years ago was weather boarded and remodeled. Jim Edgingtion lives there. Some after we came here, Whitestine lost his life when helping to raise Charley French's house.
He was helping to push a big log up on the building and a skid broke, letting the log come back and it killed Whitestine. Everything was a wilderness of woods right around here and was so all the way to
Huntington except down at Murray's saw-mill, south of the river. My father had a hundred acres and he gave a mortgage for back payments. He depended on the sale of cordwood to the Wabash railroad company for the money to meet his notes. Old Bill told him that he would foreclose the mortgage right off if he failed to pay each note when due.
"Great guns! How we did buckle in and work to get the wood ready and deliver it to the railroad right of way across the river from us."
When Fishing Was Good
"The only time we were worried was when the water was high and could not be forded with the team and wagon. Before the river was ditched it spread out over a wide stretch and was deep in places. Say! Do you know how we managed it to get that wood across? We rafted it! You bet we did! It was a ground hog case. We had to have the money. Some of us would be over on the opposite shore with ropes fast to trees while the others would be on this side to load the raft and start
it over. They would pull it over and we'd pull back the empty raft. We would all be wet as muskrats, but that made no difference as long as old Bill couldn't close in on us. Every payment was met the day it was due until the last note was taken up. That was a happy time for my father. But he did not live to enjoy it long. He died of consumption at the age of forty-six."
"My brother Amos enjoyed handling a gun. Squirrels, pheasants and some wild turkeys could be shot without much trouble. I often went with Amos just to carry the game. He would kill as high as twenty five or thirty gray and black squirrels, then we'd jerk the hides off, take the whole bunch to town and sell them for ten cents apiece. People were always ready to buy at that price and the squirrels were so thick in the woods that we could make good wages killing, skinning and selling. You can believe it or not, but it is the truth that I remember one morning when Amos shot eight squirrels from an old snag a little ways from our back door before breakfast. I saw him do it!"
"Amos was the fisherman of the family, too. He caught a great many white pike in the river, some time that weighed from three to five pounds each. He and my uncle, Isaiah Schwartz, was having no luck. Then all at once he hooked one that was hard to handle.
All Isaiah could do was to keep the line tight and let one fish have its own way. In about twenty minutes it was tired out and was brought up near enough shore so that Amos struck it a stunning blow on the head and it was hauled out of the water. The pike weighed eighteen and a half pounds and had teeth like a wildcat. His head weighed two pounds and a half. But fishing is now bum. I tried it this summer and didn't get a nibble."
Barney Sutton A Hero
It was learned from Jacob during this conversation that only himself, Landa and George Bowers of the family are now living. In the old days the boys of Bowerstown and surrounding neighborhood were often chased out of town by the Huntington boys. Jake declares the town boys were hostile to the country lads and always had the advantage on the account of numbers. "Sometimes we couldn't escape a fight to do our best," said Jake, "but we had one guy in our bunch that was too much for the town boys. Barney Sutton was as quick as a cat and could fight like a demon. He made his home at my mother's for a long time," continued Jake, "and we all thought the world and all of him. His sister married Dr. Kemp, of Roanoke. Barney was a plasterer by trade. He was a kind of doctor too, and doggone if he couldn't do about as well as any in curing the shakes. Quinine was the chi remedy. I remember the last time I had the shakes and almost shook my joints apart. That time my mother made me tie a string around a tree three times and each time the knot was tied I had to say: Ague, I now give you to the tree! By jingo! I never had it after that."
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