KENNETH'S BANDY ANCESTORS

We’re continuing to profile Kenneth’s ancestors, in this case the Bandy ancestors of Kenneth’s paternal grandmother, ANELIZA BANDY. The following stories were compiled in 1900 by Kenneth’s father, ELZUMER SCOTT, from information furnished by members of the Bandy family.

GEORGE BANDY (1758-1838)
Kenneth’s great-great grandfather, GEORGE BANDY was born in Virginia about the year 1758. He was of German descent. He was married to DRUCILLER MEADOWS about the year 1778 or 1780. His wife was of Scottish descent. He was a farmer by occupation.  They moved from Virginia to Kentucky in the year 1815. Mr. Bandy enlisted as a soldier in the Revolutionary War of 1776-7. He died about the year 1838.

RHEUBEN BANDY (1785-1861)
Kenneth’s great grandfather, RHEUBEN BANDY, was born in Botetourt County, Virginia, his occupation being that of farming. In 1810 he was married to Miss SIBBY ATKINSON and during this same year they moved from Virginia to Kentucky. The trip was made with pack-horses, a distance of 500 miles across the Cumberland Mountains, there being no railroads in this section of the country at that time. A small iron kettle which was used for cooking purposes on this journey is kept and preserved at this time [1900] by one of their children, Mr. George Bandy, of Galesburg, Illinois, who may well feel proud of his keepsake, as it must be almost, if not fully, 100 years old.

PASCHAL BANDY (1821-1900)
Kenneth’s grandfather, PASCHAL BANDY, was born in the state of Kentucky, of Irish descent. His occupation was that of farming.

Paschal Bandy was baptized and confirmed a member of the The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints in 1839 by Jehiel Savage.  He later affiliated with the Reorganized Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints by attending the Lamoni, Iowa Branch and the Cainesville, Missouri Branch. (“Early LDS Membership Data” from the LDS Collectors Library, Infobases, 1995).

At the age of 21 years he married Miss LOVICA HOLLAND (1824-1906) on March 10th, 1842 in Tazewell County, Illinois.

Paschal Bandy and Lovica Holland

Lovisa Bandy was baptized a member of the Reorganized Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints in 1850 at Knox County, Illinois by Gould.  She was confirmed by Jones.  She attended the Lamoni, Iowa Branch and the Cainesville, Missouri Branch (LDS Collector's Library, Infobases, 1995).

In the year 1857 Paschal moved with his family from Illinois to Missouri, traveling across the country in a wagon. He bought a few acres of land (I think from the government) in Harrison County about six miles S.E. of Eagleville and 2-1/2 miles South of what is now Blythedale, though there was no town there at that time. Upon this land he built a home where he spent the remainder of his life, except the last three or four years. Here each of his children grew up to be men and women and were married, most of them at the old homestead.

At the time he moved to Harrison County he found this section of the country practically unsettled, most of the land belonging to the government, which could be purchased for $1.25 per acre. The wild open prairie country afforded an abundance of good pasture which made stock growing a very profitable industry for those who had sufficient money to engage in it. Mr. Bandy saw this opportunity and took advantage of it. He was soon in possession of a large farm of good tillable land. Adjoining this was plenty of nice timber land which he also purchased.

Wild game was abundant there at that time, including deer, antelope, buffalo and wild turkey. He was very fond of hunting, and during the long severe winters while the ground was covered with snow he killed a great many deer and turkeys. His favorite fire-arm was a long barreled muzzle-loading rifle with which he became an expert marksman. Two faithful companions, “Old Charley” his saddle horse, and “Tige” his dog, always accompanied him on these hunting expeditions; and they too seemed to enjoy the sport fully as much as did their master. The scent of gunpowder to “Old Charley” was better than clover, and that of a deer trail to old “Tige” better than a warm breakfast. Mr. Bandy has told us that many times when there was plenty of snow or ice on the ground he has dragged a deer home ten or twelve miles on a bush or branch of a tree attached to “Old Charley's” tail.

[Elzumer Scott, Kenneth’s father, told the following to Kenneth when he visited Elzumer in San Jose, California, in 1959, a year before Elzumer’s death.

“Paschal Bandy, grandmother Aneliza Bandy Scott's father, lived about two and a half miles south of Blythedale, Missouri. He was a good farmer and an expert shot with a heavy, long-barreled muzzle loading rifle. During his lifetime, he killed seventy-eight deer for meat. (He wanted to make an even 100, but didn't.) He would drag them in, tied to a limb, tied to the tail of his horse. There were lots of wild turkeys in the county. Grandpa Bandy was such an expert shot, that he was always barred from participating in the annual turkey shoot when turkeys were given to the best shots.

Male Eastern Wild turkey.  Courtesy of www.KenThomas.us

He was a powerful man. He would hold his gun as steady as if it were in a vise. The old gun, which was kept in perfect condition by him, was kept by his son, Henry Bandy, for many years. One of Henry's daughters, Lily Bandy, threw it out of the upstairs window one day. The stock broke out and the gun was thrown on the junk pile where it rotted away. Paschal Bandy's family came from Kent Township, Illinois, and from Illinois to Harrison County, Missouri.”]

With the advance of years a flood of immigration scattered over the West, making pioneer life a thing of the past; during which time Paschal Bandy was planning and laying out what afterwards became one of the best equipped farms in the county. Success followed in his footsteps, as it always did with the sturdy advance agents of civilization. He lived to see his eight children grow up, marry and prosper, and prior to his death could point with pride to his four living generations.

He was a model of an industrious and systematic farmer. His land was cultivated as a garden spot, and gave evidence on every hand of being tilled by one who was master of the art. No part of the occupation which goes to make up a model farm was neglected. In springtime his rich gardens, vineyards and orchards were full of flowers and blossoms, and when harvest time came the broad fields of golden grain told their own story. He always raised plenty where others would often fail, and this resulted in his adopting a philanthropic custom of planting more than he needed so that he could aid a needy neighbor, an act for which he was widely known. His watchword was “No success without labor.”

He was a man who had little use for law. Not by way of failing to recognize its usefulness, but strongly opposed its application to settle disputes. He insisted that the law was made for dishonest people, and that neighbors should settle their disputes by arbitrations. Once in his life was he unable to agree with a neighbor who insisted on testing the merits of the case by law. To this he objected, but generously allowed his disputant to select three arbitrators to decide the point at issue. It was unanimously decided in Mr. Bandy's favor.

He looked upon pride as the enemy of mankind, and carefully avoided assuming any attitude that would bring such an accusation upon him. He was a great believer in practical education for children, but was firm in his belief that the coming generation was being given too much theoretical education and not enough practical knowledge. He often expressed regret at the inclination of young men to leave the farm and seek their fortunes in the city.

He took but little interest in newspapers and seldom read one. His lack of faith in the press began some years ago. One day he was looking over a paper and discovered an article, with bold headlines, announcing the painful injury of an alleged neighbor. He carefully read it, anxiously seeking an opportunity to help the afflicted, but suddenly threw down the paper in disgust when he found that the injured person had been promptly cured with St. Jacob's Oil.

A more God fearing man never lived; and his motto was the Golden Rule, the teachings of which always seemed uppermost in his mind when dealing with a fellow man. Early in life he professed Christianity in the belief of the Latter-day Saints, and was a faithful follower until death.  [NOTE:  Paschal Bandy was baptized and confirmed a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints in 1839 by Jehiel Savage. He and his wife, LOVICA HOLLAND, later affiliated with the Reorganized Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints by attending the Lamoni, Iowa Branch and the Cainsville, Missouri Branch.  Source: LDS Collectors Library, Early LDS Membership Data.]

The Bible he loved best of all books. Many times I have seen him, after a hard day's work, sit down and for hours read aloud from this book. For years the light he read by was produced by home-made tallow candles. His usual hour for rising in the morning was 4 o'clock the year 'round, and during the winter months it was his custom to begin the day's work by reading the Bible an hour before daylight. His patience and studiousness in this respect were rewarded, for the teachings of both the Old and New Testaments were indelibly stamped on his memory.

In 1895 Mr. Bandy decided that he and his wife were getting too old to any longer look after so large a farm and it was sold. They purchased a few acres of well improved land one-half mile south of Blythedale, Harrison County, Missouri, where they might enjoy the remainder of their days with less hard work.

Paschal Bandy in later years

It was indeed sad news, especially to we grandchildren, when we were told that the old home was to be sold, for we had learned from early childhood to love the place until it became to us a sacred spot. We loved it because it had been the home of our father or mother; a place where we always found a hearty welcome, and there was always a treat of some kind in store for us no matter how often we came or went. The quaint old fire-place, with its huge chunks of wood burning brightly, and around which we used to gather and eagerly listen to the hunting stories told by grandfather, was in itself enough to fill the heart of any ordinary youth with delight.

The following year after Mr. Bandy and wife moved to their new home he was stricken with paralysis, partially losing the use of one side of his body. From this time he was obliged to use a cane in walking. Most men would have given up further work entirely when such work on his part was unnecessary to maintain the comforts of life, but it was next to impossible for this man to be idle one day. I remember calling to see him one hot day not long after he had received this paralytic stroke, expecting of course to find him sitting in the shade somewhere about the house, but to my surprise I learned from grandmother that he was out in a hay-field nearby with his team and mowing machine. I found him there running the machine when he was scarcely able to move about on foot with the assistance of his cane.

He continued to look after and cultivate his truck patches and few acres of corn though he was almost without the use of one arm. The next year he had another slight attack of the same dread disease and this time he was left almost helpless. He now realized that further work on his part was out of the question, and would sit for hours in deep meditation. He suffered no physical pain, but we will perhaps never know what the mental suffering of one in this condition whose whole life has been so full of vigor and activity. However, he bore it all with patience and without a murmur, as one who had for years been preparing for that better and brighter home above. Within a few months he was stricken for the third time with paralysis which left him entirely helpless. In this condition he lingered for several weeks until the end came, February 18th, 1900.

How fitting the hour of his death. On the Sabbath day, just as the last rays of the setting sun cast their shadows across the approaching darkness, just as the light of day went out, so vanished the life of this grand old man. He had climbed the heights and left all superstitions below, while on his forehead fell the dawn of a grander day. We can feel that he who sleeps has but gone to receive the reward for which he has been striving all these years. May many such men be born.

Let us state here that every good and noble deed so fittingly bestowed upon Grandfather Bandy, was equally applicable to his helpmate, Grandmother Bandy, who must for a short time wrestle with life's billows alone. She has shared his joys and sorrows all these years, ever carrying her share of the burden, a true, a faithful and loving wife. Their lives have truly been a beautiful illustration of that most sacred obligation between man and wife. Surely the Father in Heaven will meet them with open arms and say “Well done thou good and faithful servants, thou hast earned thy reward.”

KENNETH'S SCOTT ANCESTORS

In this post we’re taking a break from Kenneth’s personal history to talk about his Scott ancestors.  Most of the information below is quoted (with some editing) from the book The History of Northwest Missouri, published in 1915, unless otherwise noted.

AARON T. SCOTT (1772-1862)
Kenneth’s great-great grandfather, AARON T. SCOTT, was Scotch-Irish and a soldier during the War of 1812.  He was born in 1772 on the Virginia - Tennessee border and died near Galesburg, Knox County, Illinois in 1862.  His wife's name was ANNA AJA [or AGA].  Aaron T. is the earliest Scott ancestor we know about.

MOSES S. SCOTT (1818-1888)
Kenneth’s great grandfather, MOSES SCOTT, was born just across the river in Ohio from Indiana on 3 December 1818, and died on his farm near Blythedale, Missouri on 3 February 1888, at age 70 years.  He spent his boyhood in Jefferson County, Indiana, and there was sparingly educated, in that he was able to do little more than to read and to write.  He was a brick maker by trade and made the first bricks from which was constructed the first college at Hanover, Indiana (www.hanover.edu), and worked at that and farming, both at his home in Missouri.  However, in Missouri he abandoned his trade that he might give his entire attention to farming.

MOSES SCOTT came to Missouri in the company of several families from Knox County, Illinois, where he had spent some three years as a farmer.  His outfit for the journey and effects comprised an ox team and a yoke of cows.  The journey took from June until September.  Among the families forming the caravan was that of JAMES CHAMBERS GRAHAM, his father-in-law, who settled in the same neighborhood.  MOSES SCOTT’S settlement was a mile southwest of Blythedale, Missouri.  The farm he improved and made it his final home. His old brick kiln was on Big Creek, west of Eaglesville, on the Williams' place.

MOSES SCOTT’S participation in politics was as a Democrat but he never held public office.  He was a Baptist of the missionary faith.  He lived up to the teachings of the church and was known to be strictly reliable in his dealings with others, paid his way as he went, and never allowed himself to get into debt.  The period of the Civil War did not materially affect him except as his own son Elzumer [Kenneth’s great uncle] entered the 23rd Regiment, Missouri Volunteers, Infantry Compound D, and went with General Sherman to the sea.

MOSES SCOTT married MARY ANN GRAHAM, daughter of JAMES CHAMBERS GRAHAM, and JEMIMAH TALBOTT of English descent, on 16 May 1843. 

MOSES S. SCOTT, 1817-1888

MARY ANN GRAHAM, 1825-1882

AARON GRAHAM SCOTT (1850-1922)
Kenneth’s grandfather, AARON GRAHAM SCOTT, was one of the ante-bellum [post Civil War] settlers in Harrison County, Missouri.  He came there in September 1858 with his father, MOSES SCOTT.  AARON GRAHAM SCOTT was a native of Jefferson County, Indiana, born near the city of Madison, Indiana, on July 18, 1850.

AARON GRAHAM SCOTT was a child when brought to Harrison County, Missouri and secured a somewhat limited education in the district schools.  Starting out as a farmer just before reaching his maturity, he worked for a time as a farm hand at the salary of $15 a month and his employer was PASCHAL BANDY, whose daughter, ANELIZA [or ANN ELIZA]  BANDY, Aaron Graham Scott married on 24 August 1871 at her father's home in Blythedale, Missouri. After several years they first rented a small property known as the Grist farm, located near Eagleville and later rented the Landy place.  Here he spent a short time.  Next he purchased 100 acres of raw land, now the Loveless place.  Thus, he improved them and exchanged it for the present place in section 14 township 65 range 27.  This was a settled place and he succeeded William Kincade here in 1888.

AARON GRAHAM SCOTT owned 260 acres and was engaged in stock and grain farming.  He embarked in short-horn cattle and Poland China hog breeding.  His short-horns came from the Kansas bull and he had his first exhibit for prizes in the fall of 1914.  In politics he was a Republican and for two years he was assessor of Marion Township.

AARON GRAHAM SCOTT and his wife, ANELIZA BANDY, had thirteen children.  She died at the age of 43 on 22 August 1897 of typhoid fever.

AARON GRAHAM SCOTT, 1850-1922

ANELIZA BANDY SCOTT, 1853-1897

Aaron Graham Scott and sons, 1893.  According to Mary's identification on the back of the photo:  L to R: Elzumer, Charles, Oscar (Nick), William (Oate), Zene (youngest), Aaron Graham

According to Mary:  L to R:  Aneliza Bandy Scott holding Ruth, Minnie, Edna and Eva (twins)

When Kenneth's son Wayne finished his mission in California, he visited his grandfather ELZUMER and obtained genealogical information on the Bandy family from him.  At about the same time, Elzumer's brother, Zene, told Mary that PASCHAL BANDY AND LOVICIA HOLLAND were Latter-day Saints.  However, they did not go west with the Saints, but affiliated with the Reorganized Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.  As their daughter ANELIZA was dying she asked her son, ELZUMER, to call the LDS elders for a blessing for her which he refused to do and ‘always regretted this decision.’   

After ANELIZA died, AARON  married EVA ALICE EYERLY, on 7 September 1898. They had five children, making a total of nineteen children for Aaron Graham!  He died on 11 June 1922 in Meridian, Idaho (near Boise).

LETTER FROM ANELIZA BANDY SCOTT
We have a copy of a very touching letter written by ANELIZA to her son, ELZUMER, Kenneth’s father, about a year before she died.  ELZUMER, age 22, was living in Desmoines, Iowa at the time.

July 27, 1896
Ridgeway, Missouri
Dear Zumer:
I write you a few lines.  It has been raining all morning.  The threshers were coming to finish.  They were here two nights last week–but very little done–it rained every night.  I am tired of them.
I was very much disappointed Saturday evening, as you did not come.  Some of the children were out on the style all the afternoon looking.  Charlie [age 20] came home Friday night and told us he went up after you.  Minnie [age 14] had her chickens dressed–all the work was done so we could hear every word that was said.  Charlie never got back until sundown.  Cal [Scott] came home with him.  I never was so disappointed.  Edna [age 7] cried and “wished every man up there was dead so Zumer could come home.”
Ralph [age 1 ½ ] is not well–has not been for several days.  The rest of the folks are well, as far as I know.  Your Uncle Ol [Scott] is coming back to Missouri.  They have failed again. Your Pa is trying to rent a place for him.  Pa is gone today to buy calves.  If you need money let us know.  Can you save any money?  I know it takes money to keep a fellow going.  Pa is coming up to the fair [at Desmoines].  I would come if you were keeping house.
The Valley singers are getting ready for the Blythedale Picnic.  Don’t know when it will be yet.  Maybe you can come then.  Am not going to look for you until I see you.
Am glad you had a good time the Fourth.  I did not go anywhere.  Pa and the children went to Ridgeway.  I was sick that morning....
Tuesday.  We are threshing today [and] it will take a half day tomorrow.  Ice cream supper at your Uncle Zumer’s tonight.  Pa took his bird dog out hunting last week. and got six prairie chickens–only one got away.  He thinks his dog is a dandy.  You will have to take a hunt when you come down.  Ralph is better today.  Eva, Edna [twins, age 7] and Ruth [age 5] got up sick this morning.  I think they will be all right in a few days.  I have lots of things to tell you before I am done with this life.  I must close.  It is time to get supper.  Your Aunt Mollie [Mary Scott Brinegar, age 35] is helping me.  She sends you her best respects, and said tell you she was making apple pies.
Love from all, write soon–
Your Mother and Father

KENNETH’S ACCOUNT OF HIS GRANDFATHER
The following account is in KENNETH’s own words, based on what his father told him:     

Grandfather [AARON GRAHAM SCOTT] bought (in l847) 100 acres native land--unimproved--in original sod for $1,000.  He started improving with a team of horses, and a plow.  They had a few chickens and a milk cow, sow and pigs.  He cut timber for the house and fencing from near Big Creek about 3 miles west of the farm.  He dug a well about 150 yards from the house at a spring.  The well was walled with native stone.  The water had to be hauled to the house on a sled--two barrels full at a time.  Grandmother [ANELIZA BANDY] often had to carry water to the house when they were busy in the field.  Fences were poor and the sow would get into grandmother's chickens.  One day after asking Grandpa many times to keep the hogs fenced up, she surprised the family by having a roast pig for dinner.  She had killed the hog with a club--cleaned and roasted it.  Grandpa could only say how good the pig tasted.

Grandpa Scott's father [MOSES SCOTT] lived on a 40 acre farm near Blythedale, Missouri also.  In later years he used to ride a medium sized roan horse named Dick to town.  Just before Grandpa Moses died, he gave Dick to Kenneth’s father.  Dad was very fond of him and rode him a great deal.  Dick liked to swim with dad in the pond. In fact, he would go swimming alone.  Dick was quite balky when they first harnessed him to work.  He had to be humored awhile to let him get used to the collar on his neck.  Dad traded old Dick for a real nice sleigh that he found in Bethany about the time he became interested in going with the girls.

Source:  Ridgeway:  Then and Now, 1880-1980, p. 47

Grandfather Scott gave a site for the Baptist Church at Pleasant Valley.  Grandpa and Grandma were the charter members.  Reverend Joe H. Burrows of Cainsville helped organize the church and for many years was the pastor at Pleasant Valley, coming out there once a month to preach.  He drove his team about 7 miles over old clay roads.  He never asked for a salary but gladly accepted any small amount the small congregation would give.  Grandpa A.G. led the singing.  He had a clear tenor voice and often sang solos.  Hester Caldwell Harrison played the organ—or tried to.  Much of the church was made of fine native walnut.  Grandpa always welcomed Baptist ministers to his home.  Often itinerant travelers who heard of this would get in posing as Baptist ministers.

Ridgeway high school class, including three A. G. Scott children:  Ruth, Eva and Edna (Ridgeway Then and Now, p. 66)

Grandpa’s children attended the Pleasant Valley school--one room--up through the eighth grade.

The following account is from a tape-recorded interview with Kenneth, found in the appendix to his and Mary's autobiographies: 

My grandfather Scott, I guess it was because he had a family of boys, and in that little town of Ridgeway, they had two drugstores that were pretty close together and there weren’t many stores in that town but they had these two drug stores and they sold liquor on the sly. Grandfather was poisoned on [against] this stuff. He was always trying to find something and he would move in on a...because of his family.

When I was about 10 or 12 years old, Grandfather Scott (he had a farm north of town about 5 miles) would bring a load of corn that he had raised to the mill which was not very far from our home in Ridgeway, and there he grew all that corn and whatever form he wanted--a rough grind or maybe some other grind that we ground into flour for use in the home. The rest of it might be ground up rough as feed for the cows. A dry corn meal or hominy. I guess he had a good watch dog and when my grandfather moved into town when this last family of children were old enough, some of them, to go to high school. They bought this house south of town and it was there when they had this little Dalmatian dog. I’d open the gate, the house sat back in the lot a ways and as I started to approach, the dog was watching and he’d come down and he’d listen. When I’d step to one side, he’d step over in front of me. When I’d step over on the other side, talking to him, he’d be over there. About the third time he did that, he would “Grrrrr”. You’d better start up or he was going to take a hold of you. Just as soon as someone from the house called, “Okay [Pooch?]. That was it.

I never met father’s mother [ANELIZA BANDY]. Grandfather Scott married a second time…[and] he had five boys and two girls in the [second family].

[Kenneth tells about memories of July 4th: going to his grandfather’s farm and shooting off dangerous fireworks, enjoying a band playing in their town, and making home made ice cream made with ice from their ice house.]

When Grandfather Scott got his crops all in--and he’d always feed out some steers--he’d have them already along just about the early fall for sale...then he was ready to go take a trip someplace. And he did take a number of trips...somehow or another he got off into the Boise Valley and was very fascinated with it. He bought a little 15 acre tract or orchard, apples mainly but a few peaches. And he wanted all his family around him. He even wanted Uncle Zene who had a job in Washington in the Interstate Commerce Commission and Uncle Zene got a year’s leave of absence and went out there with Aunt Myrtle and they had a little orchard tract. They got so disappointed out there with that job, trying to make a go of operating an orchard that they gave it up and came back to Washington before the year was up. Then is when my grandfather had this nice big home in Meridian out of Boise about 10 or 15 miles. I believe my grandfather died at that home because he enjoyed that home.  

AARON GRAHAM SCOTT MEETS JIMMY SKUNK
Here’s a fun story about his grandfather that Kenneth had in his papers.  I’m not sure of the source, but I’m guessing it may have been included in one of their family chain letters.

    There had been a heavy snow in the early part of the night, and then it had ceased and all the little folks of the forest and meadow had gone forth in search of food or to gambol in the moonlight, and the fresh snow that lay like a huge carpet over all, hung on bushes, draped over weeds and tufts of grass, making hiding places everywhere for those who must dodge enemies that ever seek to destroy them.  By morning Peter Rabbit and his folks had well-beaten paths to all parts of the thicket where they had played tag and hide-and-seek through the still hours of the night.  Here and there in the more open spaces could be seen the trail of Billy Mink and Jimmy Skunk where they had passed like dark shadows seeking some low roosting bird or a meadow mouse, or some luckless rabbit that they might surprise and capture.  And so it was that when daylight came there was a scramble among the little folks for hiding places.  The rabbits found shelter under thick clumps of bushes and under weeds and tufts of grass well covered with snow.  Billy Mink crept under a rick of cordwood that happened to be near by, and Jimmy Skunk, finding a small pile of brush well covered with snow, crept underneath, and having a full stomach from his catch, curled up and soon went to sleep, intending to continue his quest for food again when dark shadows returned in the evening.

Skunks.  Source:  www.birdphotos.com (via Wikimedia Commons)

    These were the conditions one cold winter morning a good many years ago on the farm of Graham Scott (probably about 1885) a few miles northeast of Ridgeway, Missouri.  Now, Graham liked to hunt, so after the chores were done and the stock all fed and watered and plenty of fuel wood laid in, Graham, accompanied by his cousin, Omar Hutton, set out to get some rabbits.  It was an ideal day to hunt.  It seemed that almost every clump of bushes or patch of weeds yielded a rabbit when kicked.  Being good shots, their game bags filled rapidly.  Everything was going lovely when Graham happened to come to that particular pile of brush where Jimmy Skunk was taking a nap.  He did not notice skunk tracks leading to the brush pile, and thinking only of rabbits, he poised himself ready to shoot and gave the pile of brush a tremendous kick that sent the sticks, twigs and snow hurtling high in the air.  Now, Jimmy Skunk is usually very peaceful, but being so suddenly and rudely awakened, and not knowing what it was all about, and seeing a huge form standing near, he immediately went into action and, without further investigation, turned his gas gun on the enemy and delivered a full charge, most of which struck Graham's boots, but the fumes enveloped him and spread far and near.  It is needless to say that Graham beat a hasty retreat, much to the satisfaction of the skunk and the amusement of Omar, who happened to be far enough away to escape.  This ended the hunt and the hunters returned home.

Clothes were sent out to the woodshed for Graham to change.  His coat and pants, which had not received a direct charge, were hung out on the line a few days until the perfume left.  But his boots had to go through a more drastic process of deodorization.  He had heard that burying in the ground would draw out the scent.  Did it?  Well, a few weeks afterward when Graham came to Sunday School at the Pleasant Valley Baptist Church (which he attended faithfully) and stood around the wood-burning stove with others warming themselves before services, Omar sniffed a little and looking down at Graham's boots, said, “Graham, I think you dug them up too soon.”  And maybe he did!!

Birth of Marvin, Military Service, Education, and Death of Winnogene

Brother Born
[Kenneth’s youngest brother, Marvin, was born 6 Jan. 1916.]

Kenneth's sister Winnogene holding Baby Marvin Scott

Military Service
World War I was in progress and young men had the option of being drafted or joining some phase of the services. I chose to enlist in the Students Army Training Corp (SATC) and was ordered to report to training quarters at the William Jewell College at Liberty, Missouri. That was quite an experience with Army training under West Point officers.  [Kenneth’s service record indicates he was inducted on October 21, 1918.]

Soldiers in Student Army Training Corps, Milliken Univeristy, Decatur, Illinois, ca 1918

The armistice on November 11, 1918 resulted in the SATC program being discontinued. I received an honorable discharge from the Army a little before Christmas 1918 and returned home.

The following account is from a tape-recorded interview with Kenneth, found in the appendix of his and Mary’s autobiographies:

One time after I had graduated from high school, I went down to William Jewel College in Liberty, Missouri, and I went to that business school down there for almost a year, I guess. This was at the beginning of the World War and they turned that over to some military officers who were training some young men to be officers in the army. That’s what I was taking training for to be a second Lieutenant, I guess it was. They then closed that particular training down and then I went back home. Yes, I was really in the military.

I volunteered to go into the Student Army Training Corps. That was a year before the war ended. It was down to William Jewel College at Liberty, Missouri. They’d get us out and we had uniforms and army rifles we trained with. I remember one time they took us out and made us walk at attention down a muddy road for a mile or so…because somebody in this dormitory, someone had taken a big tall cardboard container for trash and…they’d taken it in the shower and it was up on the third floor and they were having just some mischief with some of the soldiers down on the second floor and they had this all poised up there on the rail, full of water, so that when someone stepped out down there--one of their friends--they were going to tip this barrel over.  And the one that stepped out was the First Lieutenant, who was our training officer! They just soaked him with water.  So the next morning was when he got us all out, and he didn’t know who did it, but he got us out, and marched us at attention for about a mile or two down through the muddy road so that was a punishment that we remembered a good while. We didn’t want to get into that any more.

Pursuing Education and Career
I resumed my work in the Commercial State Bank which continued until the regular assistant cashier, Gerald Smothers, returned from the service.  I worked at the bank until I got through school about one more year in high school. Then Dad sold his bank and moved to Idaho. I was working for a Ford agency and I stayed on.

Chillicothe Business College.   Courtesy www.mainstreetchillicothemo.com

Following the example of my father, I enrolled in the Chillicothe Business College for a business course including bookkeeping, typing, and shorthand.

Thomas Edward Sallee (1841-1917)

Adelia Putnam Sallee (1846-1904), wife of Thomas E. Sallee

For a nominal monthly charge, I had a room and meals at the home of my Grandfather Sallee’s, who owned a feed and coal business. Delivery was made by an employee who drove the big Percheron horse “Bill” hitched to a brightly painted heavy wagon. As a young lad, when I would visit Grandfather Sallee with Mother and Winnogene, I would thrill at the opportunity to ride on the delivery wagon and hear Bill’s shod feet just “clank, clank” on the brick pavement.

Delivery wagon and horse, ca 1890 (Source:  http://kingstonpubliclibrary.org)

In those earlier days, it was necessary that we travel to Chillicothe by train–leaving rather early in the morning and getting off about 25 miles down the road at Darlington to transfer to another train that went east to Chillicothe. Darlington was just a crossing for two railroads and there were no accommodations there except the train station with hard seats.

Train at  Marceline, Missouri , ca 1915 (Source:  http://www.kchistory.org)

As we had to wait there about three hours, Mother would bring along a nice lunch. Presently the train going east would arrive and after riding it for about an hour and a half we would arrive at Chillicothe. Later when automobiles were in use, it was only about an hour’s drive from Ridgeway to Chillicothe–but before that the train seemed much better than the other alternative of a team of horses and a buggy requiring a long day’s journey.

This period of attending the Business College provided many opportunities to visit with Grandfather Sallee. He was a rather reserved person but one who had had many varied experiences and had traveled considerably including trips to Yellowstone Park, partly by stage coach. He was a captain in the cavalry during the Civil War and had a handsome sword from that experience. I was fascinated by the heavy gold chain that he always wore in his vest with a large silver watch on one end and the key he used to wind his watch each evening, on the other end.

Pocket watch and chain (Source: http://commons.wikimedia.org)

He wore a full white beard that extended probably eight inches below his chin. Like my Grandfather Scott, he could tell interesting stories of his travels. My grandfathers were good friends but Grandfather Sallee being a Democrat and Grandfather Scott being a Republican–they would have political discussions.

Thomas Edward Sallee

Death of Winnogene
I was called home February 27, 1918 by the startling bad news that Winnogene had died. She had been doctored faithfully by an old family doctor, Dr. Williams, for what he thought was an ear ache. Too late it was discovered to be a mastoid infection. Then she was rushed to the nearest hospital–in St. Joseph, Missouri–but the infection was so extensive that she couldn’t be saved. My dear mother never fully overcame the great sorrow of losing this beautiful and lovely daughter in her 13 year of age. Winnogene was buried in the cemetery in Ridgeway, Missouri.

Winnogene's headstone

Early Inventions, Jobs in High School, Graduation, and Piano Solo

Early Inventions
It was about 1915 when Ridgeway first received electric lights.  Prior to that time we used kerosene lamps including one that could be pumped up and with a very gradual mantle gave a bright white light.  The source of our electricity was a diesel engine house about a block from our house.  For the first few years we had current only during the evening and morning hours--from about sun down to ten o'clock and for about an hour early in the mornings.  Once we were having a nice Halloween party at our house and the lights went off at the regular time while our guests were still there.  My father called the man at the power station and asked him to keep the engine going another hour for which he paid $5.00.

Kenneth later added more detail and discussed other early inventions in a taped interview, partially transcribed and included in an appendix to his and Mary's autobiographies:

For a long time we didn’t have any electric lights. We just had coal-oil lamps. A plain coal-oil lamp wasn’t very bright....but then they had another fixture that came along about that time and sat on the table. They had what they called a mantle. It was a little cloth arrangement....You’d take a match and lift the bottom of that and then it was a very fragile light mantle. You’d had to be very careful or you’d knock that candle or mantle all to pieces and have to do it all over again. It would give a nice white bright light. It was kerosene.

I must have been about 18 or 19 when we got electric lights. They had a diesel motor in a little power house. It wasn’t very far from where we lived. It was a big motor and it provided the power for that whole little town. In the summer time, it only came on about 5 or 6 o’clock in the evening and run until about 9 o’clock....My dad was in charge of the choir in the church....It would come to about 9 o’clock and he’d call the power company to run the unit another hour or something like that and it didn’t cost him more than 4 or 5 dollars or something like that.

Telephones were put in use; they had single lines. They had a number of individual house lines hooked into it and they would get that number on that particular number by getting certain rings. In other words, if they were calling you, maybe your ring would be three little short rings and then a long one. The neighbors might be two little one and two short ones and they all had a little different rings.  When they’d hear a ring, there would be several of you taking the receiver off. They were going to eves drop on that conversation. [He remembered first telephone call in Ridgeway at about age five.]

“We didn’t have a bathroom [when he was young]. We had to go outside to one these outside toilets and when we wanted to take a bath why we had to warm a lot of water on the big kitchen stove and we just had one of the tubs my mother used to soak our clothes and we’d just get in the kitchen there and everybody would stay over in the living room and one at a time we’d take our bath. We’d have a whole big old tub of water, real hot on the stove and then we’d just take what we wanted in that tub and dump it in the sink and the next one would come along and take their bath.

My father got the first Ford Sedan that they had in that county. We were all so proud of that little Sedan. It was a nice little car. The gasoline tank was under the drivers seat--a square tank under the drivers seat--and when you wanted to fill the tank up you just had to get out and take the cushion off; it didn’t hold very much gas and it was one of these that you had to crank.

I remember I had to go out and crank those cars whenever I had to fill a tank up with gasoline. I was keeping the books in that agency but I also had to wait on that pump out there and was always afraid somebody would put the spark down too far when I’d start cranking that car--they all wanted it cranked, of course.

Man cranking a Model T Ford

You know those automobile tires were so poor and they were high pressure tires that we actually would have--there was no guarantee on them at all--and we actually had examples of where somebody that lived out in the country, not more than ten miles, would have one of those new tires blow out before they got out there and there was no guarantee at all. He just had to come back and buy a new tire. It was terrible.

Early Employment
My first job in Ridgeway was at a food store during the summer vacation from school.  In the rear of the building they had an area where fresh cream was brought in for sale.  I was trained to reserve the cream, take a sample, test it in a tube that was rotated in a hand cranked machine, then record the cream content and make a simple written report that the patron took to the store owner to receive payment.  Eggs were also delivered at the same door and after checking for broken eggs, I recorded the count for the patron to turn in for payment.

The store owner had a roaster for shelled peanuts that was operated at intervals during the day to keep a supply of freshly roasted, salted and buttered peanuts for sale.  During my first day of work, I was surprised to have the proprietor say, "Kenneth, you may help yourself to the peanuts if you would like them."  It wasn't until that evening when I had a terrible stomach ache that I discovered there was no better way to teach me to be very moderate in my indulgence at the peanut roaster.

During the summer of 1914, I worked at the Winkler and Young Cafe in Ridgeway.  They served hot meals and fountain dishes.  They had an ice storage shed in which they stored large blocks of ice cut from a pond, and stored in sawdust that would keep the cafe supplied with ice all summer for making ice cream.  Sometimes when I was tending the fountain, a party of school kids from Bethany, our county seat, would come in and try to "show off" by ordering a fountain dish I had never heard of.  I would mix up a conglomeration of ice cream and syrups and take it to them.  They would say, "What is that?  I ordered so-and-so."  I would reply, "That is the way we make it here," and leave.

The cafe had a large mechanical organ with various sound effects that was operated by coins, that was terribly noisy.  I worked from about 6 in the morning (when I swept the place) to about 9 or 10 in the evening--and midnight on Saturday for $1.00 a day plus meals.

During school vacation in 1915-16, I worked in the bank for my father as a book keeper for the canceled check statements of individual depositors.  We had an adding machine but all the ledger and individual statements were maintained by hand writing.  It was about this time that Father purchased a "Grandfather" clock that Father much later in life willed to me and which I shipped from San Jose, California to our home in Washington, D.C. after Father's death.  It still keeps good time.

Kenneth added more detail about his work at the bank in tape-recorded interviews, which were partially transcribed in the appendix of his and Mary’s autobiographies:

My father was a cashier of a bank that he had organized there, the Commercial State Bank. He would get me down there. First he’d let me do the janitor work--sweep out the place in the summer time and on Saturday. Later on he let me do the book work and we didn’t have anything but a simple adding machine--no book keeping machine--and everything would have to be written out longhand.

If a person made a deposit you’d go get their little book and when they’d come in with a check, you’d had to get the book and write it out again and that was a pretty slow way to work. Then I got so when the war came along in 1917 and the assistant cashier joined the army, my father said I could take over the books. So I was being real careful in getting them all added up.

For several weeks the books were nicely balanced, and one day, it was the Fourth of July, they had a big celebration there going up and down the streets, and my Dad said I had to go down there and get those books in balance. The books were off 10 cents and I couldn’t find that 10 cents. I worked and I worked and went over the figures and went over the figures and finally I went back and ran the tape on the figures on the day that the other young man finally closed the books and I found that 10 cents. It was his fault. But my Dad said, “If you’re going to be a banker, you’ve got to get your books all balanced and don’t be trying to get some special favors here.”

High School Graduation
In 1917, I graduated from the Ridgeway High School--there being twelve in the class: six girls and six boys.  I was president of the class and played a piano solo during the graduation exercises.

The First Scott Family Reunion in 1911

Kenneth's recollection of the first Scott family reunion
Grandfather Scott was very fond of his family. With the help of my father, he arranged the first reunion of his family at the farm about 5 miles north of Ridgeway. Uncle Charlie and his family came from Chicago, Oat and family came in an old Ford from Tourner, Colorado. Aunt Minnie, Ruthy, and family came from western Kansas. Zene and family came from Washington, D.C. and all others from nearby. Tents were provided for sleeping quarters (with the teenage boys including myself sleeping on blankets in the barn with hay as a mattress). There was a regular rifle target shooting gallery, ball games, kite making and flying contests, foot races, and croquet games. A wagon load of ripe watermelons was available to all. One day friends of the family were invited from the countryside. That made a big crowd and several brought their band instruments resulting in a brass band being formed. As the oldest grandson, I ran a race with my great aunt, Rachael Robb, Grandfather Scott's older sister--a great story teller--who could from the first time in our memory, tell stories about Grandfather Scott, to the joy of us children. This was the first of several Scott family reunions.

Aaron Graham Scott Family Reunion, 31 Aug 1911

The Scott Family Reunion, August 31, 1911
We have a delightful account of this reunion, though unfortunately we don't know who wrote it.  We feel confident the photo above is from this reunion, as the account below states "there were sixteen of us"--the same number of children in the photo.  The woman to the left of Aaron Graham Scott (center) is Eva Alice Eyerly, whom he married in 1898 after his first wife, Ann Eliza Bandy, died in 1897. Aaron Graham and Ann Eliza had 13 children (to his left and standing behind him), two of whom died as children.  The children to the right of Eva are the five children that she bore Aaron Graham. Elzumer, Kenneth's father, is standing in back just to the right of the tree.

Here's the account written shortly after the reunion took place:

    On Thursday and Friday of last week there was a reunion of the A. G. Scott family that will be remembered, by Graham and the children at least, for many years to come.  All the children were present, some not having been home for seven years, and it was the first time they were all together since fourteen years ago.  Six states were represented, as it were, by those who came from a distance.  There was Charley from Chicago, Illinois; Ota from Towner, Colorado: Minnie from Chase, Nebraska: Zenith from Washington, D.C.: Edna from Indianapolis, Indiana: and Eva from Topeka, Kansas; the balance of the family living here.  There are sixteen in all and every one is enjoying the best of health.  It was quite a treat to meet on the old farm again.  Other relatives who came from a distance were Mr. Jerome Traupel with his wife and daughter from Van Wert, Iowa, and Mrs. Rachel Robb, whose home is in Hoyt, Kansas.

    Eva was the last of the children to arrive.  She was met by the others on Wednesday, at Blythedale, from which place they all went to the cemetery to place flowers upon the grave of the dear mother who had left them just fourteen years before.

    On the following day they were at the farm home where every preparation had been made for the pleasure and comfort of all.  Tents were stretched upon the shady lawn; a large swing, a shooting gallery and games for both young and old.  Just before noon the children presented Mr. Scott with a large rocking chair with the wish that it might not only be useful to himself but to his wife also who had done so much to make the reunion a happy one.  At dinner time the table was filled with everything good, and for the first time in many years all were once more assembled at their father's table.  In the evening the boys played the fife and drums and marched up and down the road just as they used to do so long ago.  Every one enjoyed it immensely, especially Graham, who seemed to be the youngest of the bunch.  When the music began he stepped upon the porch and did an old time dancing stunt with surprising spryness.

    The next day, Friday, relatives and neighbors from far and near, gathered in, bringing well-filled baskets with them.  About 140 were present.  In the yard a long table heaped with all manner of good things to eat; great platters of fried chicken, meats, salads, pies, cakes, fruit, etc.  As a side issue there was a wagon load of ripe melons furnished by Oliver Scott.  Ample justice having been done to the sumptuous repast, the attention of the crowd was directed to the ball game which took place in the pasture just south of the house.  Players were quickly chosen and the game was on.  Battery for one side: Roy Scott and Hugh Brinigar.  The other: Less Bandy, Ruthy Jacobs and Guy Crosby.  Umpire E. Scott.  Our space will not permit of a detailed description of the marvelous and sensational plays which were made (to say nothing of the rank decisions of the umpire), but Ol Scott, in a heart-rending effort to make a home-rum, went down on all fours between third and home, his wind about gone.  He made a brave effort to reach the goal on his hands and knees but put out ten feet from the plate.  Omer Hutton played all over the field, his main object being to keep out of the way of the ball, and at bat the same motive prevailed.  Bill Loy completed a famous home run by sliding the last fifteen feet on his head.  Score 16 to 5.

    After the game a large crowd gathered in the house to join in the singing, and then came martial music.  In the midst of the fife and drum music, Uncle Bill Graham could remain silent no longer, and told the boys how he had marched into the battle of Gettysburg to the tune of “Smithton” which they had just played, and while he was now growing old, if another call was made for volunteers and he was to hear the strains of that music he would certainly have to “fall in” and shoulder arms in the defense of his country.  There were many other features of entertainment during the day, one of which was an interesting foot-race between Aunt Rachel Robb, age 82, and Kenneth Scott, age 12; Mrs. Robb easily won, and undoubtedly holds the record for one of her age.

    The reunion was an event that will long be remembered, not only by the children, but by all who were present.  A series of splendid pictures were taken during the two days by L. J. Wight and J. R. Day.  In a few days the children will have returned to their respective homes, and will carry with them a memory of that home-coming which years cannot efface.

    Charlie Scott returned to his home in Chicago Saturday after attending the family reunion at the home of his father, A. G. Scott, northeast of town.

A. G. Scott Family Reunion, circa 1917.  Elzumer and Carrie Mae are behind and to the right of Aaron Graham (center).

Childhood Highlights, Father's Business, Roland's Birth, and Family Memories

Red, White and Blue Sidewalk
While we lived at this home, my father decided he would replace the wooden sidewalk in front of the house with a cement walk.  He got some red, white, and blue coloring to put in the cement.  We had the only such walk in town--and maybe in the entire state of Missouri--of alternating red, white, and blue sections.  He did such a perfect job of smoothing the surface of the walk that when it rained or otherwise was slick, people walking were afraid to walk on it, since it was on a fairly steep little grade.

Spectacular Fire
While living here, I was awakened one night by someone running past, yelling "Fire!"  As my window was fastened over, and the light of the fire gave it a red glow, I first thought our house was on fire.  But I soon learned it was the three-story opera house on main street a few blocks away.  It was a spectacular fire; fortunately, the wind was blowing from a direction to keep it from spreading to nearby buildings.

In Ridgeway we had no fire fighting equipment other than a "bucket brigade," which consisted of people forming a line from the nearest well and passing buckets of water from one person to another, on up to the fire.  This usually was a futile exercise, except for a small fire.  It was a tragic sight to see a fire in a beautiful three story house.  We would rush in and start carrying things out into the yard.  There were actual cases of people being so excited that they would carry a load of clothes or bedding down the stairs and outside to safety and return and pick up a beautiful mirror or lamp and throw it out the second floor window--thus breaking it all to pieces.

Halley's Comet, May 4, 1910 (Encyclopedia Britannica, 1991, in public domain)

During this period of my life [age 11] I had the privilege of seeing for several nights, Halley's Comet--a bright star with a long tail of light.

Father's Business
After being cashier of the First National Bank a few years, my father, with the help of a few well-to-do farmers, organized the Commercial State Bank of Ridgeway and became the cashier.  The bank prospered and provided my father with an income of $100 per month, which was above the average income at that time.  Father also was secretary for the Masonic Lodge, which was the source of a little more income.

Another Home in Ridgeway
It was about this time that Father had an opportunity to purchase a large two-story house and more than a square block of ground, 2 1/2 blocks from Main Street.  It was rather near the depot of C931Rail Road, running between St. Joseph and Chariton, Iowa.  There was a two-car passenger train that went down to St. Joe in the morning, and returned in the afternoon to Chariton each day.

This may be the two-story house Elzumer bought

First Bicycle
It was about this time that I ordered my first and only bicycle from Montgomery Wards and Co.  That catalog was the source of many things for our family, as the small local stores had very limited stock of merchandise.  For several days, I watched patiently while things were unloaded from the baggage section of the first coach of the train.  Finally, my bike arrived nicely.  My father helped me get it home and I began learning to ride it--by having a box at each end of the seat, to help me mount the shining new possession.

The Perfect, 1910 (http://oldbike.wordpress.com)

My Bay and White Pony
Our new home site included an oversized pasture for our cow and a large garden area, in addition to a large yard.  Father bought me a bay and white pony about 2/3 the size of a regular horse.  Queen was the source of a lot of enjoyment for riding, pulling the garden implements, the four-wheeled spring wagon, and the attractive buggy with a second seat facing the rear.

Kenneth holding the reins, ready to take a group of children for a buggy ride.  It may be Roland seated next to him and Winnogene in the back.

I had "gas pipe" runners to convert the buggy into a sleigh with bells in the winter.  This was a popular rig and when several of my friends would take turns riding with me, Queenie would get tired.  Despite my efforts to keep her moving, she would go to the side of the road and lay over against a snow bank until she was rested.

The following account is from a tape-recorded interview with Kenneth, found in the appendix of his and Mary’s autobiographies:

When I was about your age, we lived back in Ridgeway, Missouri. We had a pretty good-sized place, the area equal to about a block-and-a-half of land. We had a big pasture and a big garden. So [my father] got a pony for me. The pony was named Queenie. She was about as big as a pony we had out to the farm in Maryland. My father also bought a nice little buggy and it didn’t have a top on it but it had a nice wide seat in the front. Right back behind was a smaller seat that faced the other way....That little pony was a real nice pony to drive and she’d just haul us around in that nice little buggy.

I also had a little spring wagon. It was big enough for a pony to haul. It was a pretty-good size wagon but just for one pony to pull it. I haul things around it on the farm and our big garden we had and go down there and gather the produce down there and have a lot of fun. We had a cow at that time that we milked. That was my job to milk that cow every morning and then I had to drive the cow down to a bigger pasture--down probably about six or eight blocks and I had the job of taking some neighbor’s milk cows down there too. They were all gentle cows. I would stop by one barn and get the cow out and go down the road and get another cow and take them on down there. Then in the evening, I’d go down there and get the cows and take one to each one of the neighbors. This pony [Queenie] that we had in the winter time, I had sleigh runners I’d put on that little buggy and they were little gas pipe runners that fit up at the top and went back for the back. My, that was a nice little rig. I had some sleigh bells, a string of sleigh bells to put on the pony, and I was pretty popular.

My friends would all like to go and take a ride with me in my buggy and one time we’d spent riding along for quite awhile weren’t thinking too much about Queenie and it was a pretty heavy snow. It wasn’t snowing then but it had piled up along the road where the grader had come along and pushed it out you know.

So Queenie got tired of hauling us around so she just insisted in getting over there to that big bank of snow along side of the side of the road and she just laid right down, right in the harness and everything. I had my whip and whipped her and got out there and got a hold on her bridle and tried to raise her up and she just stayed right there, just laying up against that big snow bank until she got rested and then she got up and we took another little ride.

Brother Born
My brother Roland joined the family circle on October 3, 1910, bringing joy and happiness to all of us.

Kenneth, Unknown woman, Roland, Carrie and Elzumer Scott

Memories of Family
Most of our neighbors kept a milk cow but in the summer they pastured their cow in a field about half a mile from our house.  With my pony, I arranged to drive 6 or 8 of the cows to and from the pasture each day for 75 cents each per month.  by this time I was old enough to go to my Granfather Scott's farm when the wheat and hay crops were harvested.  Grandfather's second family included three boys:  Howard, Russell, and Raymond.  I was about the age of Howard.

When we shocked the grain bundles, we four boys could easily keep up with the horse-drawn binder, so occasionally we would run to a nearby farm--partially undressing on the way--for a swim, until we could see my Uncle Ralph had made about three or four rounds with the binder.  Then we would hurry back and catch up with arranging the bundles into shocks of about eight bundles standing on end with one on top as the cap to protect the grain ends of the bundles.

Grain shocks in an Amish field (http://powc2c.files.wordpress.com)

This may be the farm of  Kenneth's grandfather, Aaron Graham Scott.

During the evenings, we would sit in the yard and ask my grandfather to tell us about his hunting trips.  (There were no TVs or radios and no daily papers.)  He was a great story teller.  Most every year after harvest, he would take a trip to western Kansas and Colorado where his son, Oat, and family, and daughter Minnie Jacobs and her husband Ruthy [Rutherford] and family lived in that newly settled area.  There was an abundance of wild game and my grandfather was an experienced hunter.

Thanksgiving was a day when my grandfather Scott always wanted all his family there.  My Aunt Minnie was still at home.  Aunt Ruth and Kenneth Weary came from Cainsville, Nick and Myrtle and children came from a nearby farm and Mother, Dad, Winnogene, Roland, and I joined the group.  Each family would bring pies, cakes, and other food.  Grandfather would have shot several wild quail that became a quail pie.  He would have killed one of his large turkey gobblers.  There would be pork and beef that he had butchered from the farm animals and pies and cakes in abundance.  After dinner the folks would gather around the organ (with foot pedals) and have a joyful time of singing church hymns.  My grandfather had a good tenor voice and my father sang well as did each of the others.

Early Chores, Birth of Winnogene, Close Call

When I became old enough to churn the butter in a barrel-type churn, I did that for my mother in the cellar.  That was also where we turned the ice cream freezer.  Once in a while during the hot summer months, there would be an alert by telephone from one neighbor to another that there was danger of a tornado.  On those occasions we would go down into the cellar until the winds died down.  The cellar had a four-inch tile vent that enabled us to get sufficient air to keep us comfortable while in the cellar.

Kenneth Leroy Scott, circa 1906

When I was old enough to care for them, my father got a pair of rabbits for me and presently I had quite a number of rabbits--until a neighbor's dog got to them.

It was when we lived in this house that my sister Winnogene was born on March 25, 1905.

Kenneth and Winnogene with their parents, Elzumer and Carrie Mae Scott, in 1908

Kenneth and Winnogene

Winnogene Leta Scott, 1905-1918

My bed in those days was a folding bed that could be raised from the front and extend vertical during the daytime to provide more space in our parlor.  The bed had a large mirror in the front when raised and was then a rather attractive piece of furniture.

Winnogene and Kenneth

When we were to go out to my Grandfather Scott's farm--about five miles away--my father would hitch our driving horse to a single-seated buggy with a top and we would all climb in, Winnogene on Mother's lap and I between my parents.  When we made that trip in the winter, we had heavy lap robes and some hot bricks to keep our feet warm.

One day, when we were going out to the farm in the buggy, my father saw a steam threshing machine coming down the road toward us with the smoke and steam puffing out.  We were rather sure that Prince, our horse, would be frightened as most horses were of a threshing machine.  That day we were following rather close behind a wagon load of hay; Father said maybe we could get by the threshing machine that way.  When Prince came abreast of the machine, he reared straight up.  Had it not been for Father's experience in handling horses, we might well have had a bad "runaway" with the buggy being turned over and some or all of us badly hurt--or worse.

Steam-driven threshing machine, Minnesota, 1882 (http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia)