Recovered from a dusty cardboard box in my garage was an old photocopy of handwritten notes on lined paper. The writings were those of my grandfather's brother, Alvin Barnett Cook. With some minor exceptions, the transcribed text (below) is intended to preserve the author's understanding of grammar and spelling. Alvin's writing style may also reveal a trace of his family's Quaker heritage. Where some of Alvin's written words may be indiscernible, brackets [ ] will contain either my best guess or be marked as [illegible]. However, I have provided a PDF file (8.4MB) of the photocopy for the reader's examination. The photocopy also contains a few notes and comments written my by mother, Dorothy F. Fisher, whereon she attempted to add clarification to Alvin's writings. At the conclusion of the text are various photos intended to aid the reader's imagery of the people and events of that time. It is not known when Alvin actually wrote these notes. Alvin died in 1958 in Banner, Kansas at the age of 93.

(1)

In the Spring of 1871. I think in April. My Father John R. Cook decided to move from Earlham Iowa & file on a Homestead in Lyon Co. Two or Three other families also in Company with us made the trip. The Lure for free land & a home being the main factor in the emagration.

One day on the Road I was driving the gentle Team my Bro. Robert beside me. Mother in the back part of the covered wagon with Bro. Irvin in her arms. Father for a short time was riding in one of the other wagons. When some way Robert tumbled out Head first onto the Double Tree and then down to the ground. I was only six yrs of age but pulled on the lines & called out "Whoa" to the Team & the scream from Mother stoped the Procession Pronto. But Robert was between the wheels unhurt & loaded back into the wagon & the march resumed. If the Wheel had struck Him the Result could hardly been other than Death. Or Broken Bones. & us away out from help. Miles out on the Broad Prairies.

One morning the Horses all broke loose someone guess that they had gone for enough. At any rate they Started on the back trail for Home apparently. So one man mounted the only Horse left and started in pursuit of the Deserters.

(2)

I can recall yet the utter sense of loneliness that came over me as I saw the last Horse disappear in the distance. & my Boyish fancy pictured not finding the Runaways & us starving for food & water on the great expanse of grassy plains. Not a tree or Building in Sight anywhere. But after several hours of suspense waiting the Horses were returned some missing & the Journey continued. And we arrived in the neighborhood of Gov. Claims. 80 acres to the Head of a Family unless to Soldier where it was 160 acres. Father filed on the South ½ of the N.E. Qr.[quarter] Sec. 24 Dale Twp. The latter being the S.E. corner of Lyon Co Iowa.

A crude sod house was constructed 12' x 14' for our Summer Home. Father went to the Big Rock River some 20 or more miles distant for timber to make the Rafters. These were covered with willow poles & grass on the willows & the grass covered with plowed chunks of sod. Some land was plowed or broken (in the vernacular of the day). Some few bus [bushels] of good potatoes were grown. Some inconvenience of course. It was 40 miles to P.O. But the R.R. was building & the Survey was only about 3 miles from us (& later a town was Established about 4 miles away) is now Ashton.* As the Autumn drew on the folk concluded it wise to return to [illegible] to Iowa to spend the winter. The trip back of near 175 miles was accomplished with no great mishap that I can recall Save One. Young as I was I greatly desired the Possession of a gun. So one afternoon as the wagons sauntered along my Uncle Joseph C. Cook took his gun intending to try to get a buck or Prairie chicken near the Road & I was permitted to accompany him. He failed to get the game. But in the meanwhile we had fell some distance behind the wagons and I was feeling somewhat weary in our attempt to overtake them. When Uncle Joe C as we called him complained of feeling sick a Happy thot struck me. "Would he get worse." Yes He spoke of it again. This is my time I soliloquized so rather seriously. "Say Uncle Joe C. If thee should die can I have thy gun." His answer blasted all my hopes. When with suspicion of a smile He said, "O, I guess its not so bad as that." Many years later he remembered the incident and laughed about it. So that Winter of 71 and 72 we camped on the Bank of the Racoon River (* was first St. Gilman) in some hastily made dugouts & the men cut wood & hurried to market. Some of the time driving the teams on the ice on the River. The Spring of 72 we were again on the Road back to the claim. The grass was starting well & we late at night arrived at the House of El Huff a neighbor some 3 miles from our Claim. The wind came up from the north and was very cold. The clouds increased and in a short time was snowing rapidly & we were getting our introduction to a N.W. Ia blizzard. The men ran the wagons end to end South of the House & turned the Horses loose in the enclosure fearing they might Perish if tied up close with no exercise. The House rather large for the country was only a one room affair and 3 or 4 families and 2 or 3 Bachelers to make beds for. The bedding was put down along the walls. Man & wife then the youngsters (no kids then) coming next to those of another Family. Then man & wife. In this way the Process could go indefinitely excepting the capacity of the building. At last all were down. Joe Reagan a man of over 300 lbs wanted another feather under his hip. Another wanted Joe to please move over ¾ inch to give room as he was a Small Man. The wind howled. The Horses squealed and hobbled. Gnawed on the weather boarding of the House. It was a night long to be Remembered. But the next P.M. the wind had fallen. The snow melted so we drove over to the little Soddy on the Claim. One of the first things Father did was to dig into the Potato Pit where the fall before we had left them for this special time. And we were rejoiced to find most them O.K. Just a few on top were frosted. This time we had a few chickens with us. (Just one crower as Grand Mother Newlin would say) but one day in some way his leg was broken. So to save him if possible, Father set and splinted the leg & so far as I know was a success & Chanticleer filled his day of Roosterhood creditably.

Some time I think later a Hen one night was killed & partly eaten. This was serious. A [illegible] chicken cottage to add to the danger. So Father got some steel Traps, attached them to a log chain that encircled the dead Hen. Next morning a large Horned owl was in the trap. No more chickens were taken near the time. The winter of 72 & 3 we wintered with Uncle Martin Cook living with them in their commodious dugout.

(Second section)

Homesteading in the 70's continued

(1)

The Pioneer of those early days had problems to solve in plenty. To keep from freezing being not the least of them.

A Mr. Hall who lived some miles from us went with his son (a young man) after a load of wood. While returning they were overtaken by a severe snow storm & very cold which increased so fast they felt compelled to leave the sled & load. So loosing the oxen they started on. Walking behind the oxen still yoked together and dragging the ever present log chain. They had gone some distance when in the blinding snow the son discovered his Father was missing. Stoping the team he shouted many times well knowing the danger if he should fail to make him hear. But at last he was forced to start on alone & let the oxen choose the way. But soon found he was in danger of the cattle leaving him. So stoping them he hooked the chain securely around his body & again started on but still walking. Later cold & numb he fell & the oxen dragged him the rest of the way home. By the House the Family saw them, got him in, & he recovered tho hands & feet frosted. Next Spring the dog carried home Mr. Hall's hand. The snow was melting & the Body found.

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