The Life Story of Thomas Jefferson Bender

1846-1939

Family heritage is more than dates, statistics and fallible memories. When these elements are enhanced by the faded handwritings found in old family papers and documents, you are taken back by the word pictures to the time before the ink faded and the paper became so fragile. You are enabled to read between the lines of history, creating your own footnotes as it were, by piecing together the scraps and fragments that serve to correct the errors of memory that have been repeated often enough to be accepted as fact. You are transported into the lives of your forebears and, for a moment, time hangs suspended while you relive the fruition and disappointments of their hopes and dreams.

This treatise is a record encompassing over 92 years of one pioneer and his life's pathway from deep in the Allegheny Mountains of southwesters Pennsylvania to a grave on the eastern edge of the south central Nebraska prairie. It has been compiled by a granddaughter from the notes of her brother, taken from family records, from Grandpa's stories, great Aunt Miriam's book, and great Uncle Peter's word of mouth, supplemented by information from other relatives.

Part I

Pennsylvania Background

Thomas Jefferson Bender was born in Somerset County, Pennsylvania on December 3, 1846. He was the first of eleven children born to Benjamin Franklin and Sarah Jane (young) Bender. This tiny baby had a heritage too. The name itself was bestowed on his ancestors because they were "benders of iron". His forebears hand come to this country from Holland, had served their country under General Washington in the Revolution and later in the War of 1812.

Soon after the Revolution, several Bender brothers built a two-story log house to protect their loved ones and their new family sawmill and milldam from Indian raids and renegades. The end of the ware had not ended the depredations of the Tories. In the remote reaches of the Alleghenies they damaged or destroyed the property and homes of discharged Federal soldiers whenever they thought it safe to do so.

The Benders were experienced in Indian warfare and Troy raids and made the building as nearly impregnable to attack and siege as possible. It had double walls of logs forty foot long and a foot in diameter with only one door, which was made of planks more than six inches thick. The second story living quarters were built of slightly smaller logs (that would stop a rifle bullet) and the floor logs of this part extended outward two foot all around to support a walk-way which in turn was protected by a three foot parapet six inches thick. Gunports in the floor and the parapet commanded all sides of the structure and the entire clearing. It was built over a small flowing spring that had no apparent source. Thus they had an ample water supply that could not be polluted or poisoned by the enemy.

The "fort" was still occupied as a dwelling, sheltering some of the Bender descendants 180 years later. A picture taken in the 1960's showed that the heavy parapet on the second story had been replaced by a pole handrail and the great plank door had been replaced by a walkin door and a couple of windows. The slab roof had been changed to shakes but the building was upright and solid.

Since the country was becoming more civilized and less dangerous Benjamin took a homestead near the old "fort". this is where Jeff and his brothers and sisters were born and raised. A picture taken over 100 years later in 1947 shows only the foundation of the house built at that time still standing. However, the rocks on one side were nearly twice as high as a man's head and it was evidently a large place. Great aunt Miriam said it was a story and a half with a summer house added, a shop for weaving, a springhouse and a dug well. There were two bedrooms upstairs and a small kitchen and big living room downstairs.

I don't know exactly when they emigrated by somewhere about the time Jeff was born or at least when he was very small, his grandparents, Emanuel Peter and Suzannah (Wilt) Bender (who were married in 1812) and all that were living of their seventeen children with the exception of three, moved with a colony of others to the verdant timberland of Wisconsin. The three who stayed were married. Benjamin, a brother Joseph and a sister Margaret whose name was now Shaffer.

When Jeff was little there were other relatives but neighbors were scarce and seldom seen except as they came to the mill or when a few came to prayer meeting or Sunday School, which was usually held at their house. There was no school to go to- schools came later. At best there was little time for schooling except in bad weather. His mother taught the children to write their names and to cipher. But until his younger sisters were big enough to learn to count and say the alphabet, about the only contact he had with learning was the family worship time and the daily reading of a chapter of the Bible.

At five years of age the boys were taken over by their fathers to being regular work with a hoe and a hatchet, do outdoor chores, shuck ears from the corn-fodder shocks, glean heads of rye, barley and wheat form the freshly cradled grain patches and learn to be a man. the girls were taught as early as possible to patch and piece quilts, bake, churn, milk, cook, scrub and knit stockings. They all had to do their tasks right. If they didn't they had to do them over.

The winter that he was six Jeff was given a long, slim, hickory prod and put to work urging the ox team that dragged logs to the mill pond. Winter was the time that they cut, hauled and stocked up in order to have a supply of logs to saw when there was plenty of water to run the mill in the spring. Settlers were now coming into the valleys with money to buy sawed timbers, boards and slabs to roof cabins.

There was no church in the community but every evening before going to bed family worship was held and every one of the children carried this practice over into their own homes. A preacher would come along now and then and stay for a week at the time and preach and hold a prayer meetings. The Bender home was always open for this. A bush meeting was held every summer and people would come and stay over night or several nights.

When Jeff was nine one of these camp-meetings took place in a neighboring valley led by a Free-Methodist exhorter. For the first time in his live he saw a "great crowd" of fifty or sixty people. He heard praying for forgiveness of the people, for sins he had never even known existed. He heard shouting in condemnation of hypocrites, money-changers, liquor, servants of the devil, and slavery in the South. He saw the exhorter fall to his knees and with arms upraised implore to the people, shouting, "If ye art men, put aside your selfish ambitions. Go ye forth and in the name of God smite down those demons of Satan who hold people of another race in human bondage! Go ye forth with Jehovah's mighty army and turn ye not back nor falter until ye shall have destroyed these minions of Hell and struck forever the bonds of slavery form all the people of this nation. Do ye succeed, God will smile upon thee and then forever. But, if thee hesitate and there-from ye shall fail, Satan shall cast thee down even into the Pit, and Hell-fire and Brimstone shall fall upon thee for eternity! Onward Christian Soldiers!" (This made such an impression upon him that he remembered and could still repeat it word for word when he was 90 years old.)

At 10 years of age Jeff was driving oxen, dragging logs to the family's millpond. At 12 he could "sink an axe to the eye" cutting logs for the mill. At 14 he could handle logs with a pike and peavy and feed logs to the water powered six foot Sheffield circular saw to rip out timbers, planks, boards, slabs and battens; doing a regular full days work and earning a seat at the table reserved for men. at 15 he achieved the status of manhood, he was able to wrestle a full grown ox to its knees, and (the measure of a man in the timberland) sink an axe to the eye felling trees from sunup to sundown..

Part II

The Civil War

Also when Jeff was 15 the Civil War started and his father was conscripted. That left him to take care of the family. Benjamin was away for fourteen months altogether. When he came home on his second furlough he found that daughter Barbara had climbed up on the stove in the dry-house to check the fruit and her clothes had caught fire. She was so badly burned that it took a great deal of care for a long, long time for her to recover. He immediately began looking for a substitute.

Jeff told his father that although he was not old enough to be drafted, he was now a man and it was his Christian duty to join the Union Army. Benjamin objected because, although he hadn't been in the battles (he was a cook in one of the camps) he knew about the hardships of war. Jeff insisted that he just had to join up and his father finally agreed saying that only one could go. One must stay and provide for the family.

In 1862, just turned 16, Jeff enlisted. He joined Co. G of the 102nd regiment of the Penn. Volunteer Infantry. He was in actin at Chickamagua, Missionary Ridge, and the Shenandoah Valley Campaign till wounded a Cedar Creek October 19, 1864 and left behind in the Union retreat. He was saved from rebel capture and prison camp or death when "Little Phil" Sheridan rode in the same day from Winchester on his great horse Reinzi and rallied the retreating Union soldiers and cavalry, leading the charge that routed the Confederate forces and drove General Jubal Early's army from the Shenandoah Valley. Unbounded admiration for and gratitude to General Sheridan remained with Bender throughout his long life.

The wounded were given six weeks leave to recover. A minie ball was lodged in Jeff's thigh against the front of his hip bone and was never removed because; instead of going first to the army hospital, this homesick boy, not yet 18, who had already fought for twenty months, fashioned a crutch from a nearby tree limb and limped home, more than 100 miles through the mountains.

One morning his brother and sisters found a "poor soldier asleep on the porch". It was Jeff. By then he had not long to stay for he walked back again to report to his regiment on time (December 1) and to help General Sheridan. Because of his wound in later life he needed a cane to walk and in the last twenty years he used two canes. But he often said, "If Sheridan hadn't made that ride and charged right into those Rebs, I wouldn't be here and neither would you."

Grandpa considered it a great privilege when he was able to vote for the reelection of President Lincoln. Under the all soldier franchise, because he was in the service, he was allowed to cast his ballot even though he was not yet quite 18 at the time.

April 9, 1865 the war ended and Corporal Tom Bender came home permitting no one except his mother and sisters to call him Jeff because that was the name of the rebel president and it made "Jeff" a bad, even a dangerous name to call a Union veteran. He participated in the grad parade and review held in Washington in May when it took two days for all the soldiers to pass by the Capitol. Then he returned to Pennsylvania and the family sawmill.

Part III

Life Goes On

The war over, the family built a new house. It had a cellar-basement, a parlor-sitting room, five bedrooms, kitchen, dining room, clothes closets, two large halls and a large attic.

Nearly four years after the war, on February 4, 1869 Tom was married to Mary Jane Rouser of Bedford County by Rev. John Felix. In December of that year he wanted to make plans to go to Wisconsin the next spring with a colony of settlers. Several relatives had signed up. His father even wanted to go but Sarah Jane loved her new home and the country she knew so well and would not budge. Tom's first baby was due about the time the rest left so he delayed. Franklin Joseph was born in March of 1870. Another group wasn't going yet but after Isadora was born in September of 1871 some were ready and he was really fired up to go. Reports had it that Wisconsin was a regular garden of Eden.

Here fate took a hand. October 8, 1871 the Pestigo Forest Fire swept across Wisconsin, killing 3000 persons (more than the Chicago Fire) and it burned over much of the extensive timber-leases held by his great uncles in the hardwood forests. So Tom changed his mind about going.

However, logging and freight hauling with oxen in the Allegheny Mountains was arduous and hard on equipment. A trip to Johnstown for a load of steel required a heavy wagon, three span of oxen and at least a weeks time if the weather was good. Rain swollen creeks required waiting till they subsided. Logging off a clearing, sometimes took a month or more before time could be spared for a day or two at home. Tom was tired of rocks, hills, and long absences from his wife and children. He had seen the flatlands of Kentucky and Tennessee where a man could plow a furrow long and straight, and raise a crop within sight of his own house and sleep in his own bed at night. Besides, the country was becoming crowded. There was somebody living on every mile, in every valley and tales of the wide open west were spreading into this remote region.

Part IV

Prairie Pioneers

In 1872 settlers were offered a homestead of 160 acres if they would come to Nebraska and prove up on it. Anxious for a new home, Tom joined the Philadelphia-Nebraska Colony and, despite the tears of the rest of the family, who were sure they would never see or hear from them again; he, Mary Jane and their two children took several span of oxen, all their belongings and started out. It was a long, arduous journey across Ohio, Indiana, Illinois, Iowa and almost halfway across Nebraska to Dawson County where they filed on 160 acres near Plum Creek a few miles east of what is now Lexington. The land was certainly flat. You could see for great distances for there were no trees in sight. They made a soddie for the family and a pole shelter for the oxen after they dug a well.

Those oxen were just what was needed for pulling a sod-busting plow through the tough saltgrass and hard alkali ground that they found there. Tom broke some of his ground but it was too late in the season to plant a field crop so he broke ground for neighbors, put up prairie hay for the oxen and hauled freight for the railroad. His wife and children drew water from the well and coaxed a small garden to produce greens, turnips and green beans before frost. Meat was no problem as an antelope could be shot in the early morning within a few rods of the soddie whenever more was needed.

There was almost more demand for Tom and his oxen than he could take care of. Work for the railroad was for cash. Merchants and tradesmen was for cash and supplies. Sod breaking was traded for hay, forage, and some grain to fee the oxen through the next winter, also a small calf, a couple of little pigs and a few chickens had been acquired in payment from people who had neither hay nor grain to spare.

One time the oxen made him a little "extra cash". There had been a pulling match between a locomotive and a three team hitch of work horses. It was won by the locomotive. Tom had a tight chain match between that same engine and his yoke of oxen, Muley and Babe. This was won by the oxen. He took his prize money ($5) and told the surprised on-lookers, "K knew my oxen could pull that good. They earned this money for me. Your wagering was stupid. Horses are for hurrying. Oxen are for pulling." So it was that he proved his ox team could out-pull six horses.

In August of 1873 their second daughter Letitia joined the family. That year a larger fireplace was built with space inside at the ends to smoke and store meat. They also found that the midsummer heat and wind took heir toll of the garden but a good supply of beans, hominy, kraut, turnips and beets rewarded their efforts.

In 1874 the grasshoppers came. Everyone struggled against the drought, alkali dust and grasshoppers. Many of the neighbors gave up and either headed back east to "live with the wife's folks" or emigrated to Oregon (the new Mecca that beckoned). Instead of leaving, Grandpa worked on the Union Pacific R.R. section. Another boy, (my father) was born January 14, 1875. The parents, homesick for the beautiful green forests of Pennsylvania, named him Elwood (the trees).

The land was white with alkali dust. The wind and lack of rain seemed to foredoom farming so in 1876 Grandpa undertook to freight flour and other merchandise to Dakota Territory when the Black Hills gold rush was spreading from Custer to Lead and Deadwood and food prices were incredibly high. He estimated that if he could go straight across the flat country from Plum Creek to Custer (about 200 miles) the trip could be made in twenty to twenty-five days. He reckoned without the sandhills. It actually took three months. He took two wagon loads drawn by ox teams. Muley- 1200 lb. and Babe- 1500 lb. were his mainstay. H had four lesser oxen. On the way he picked up two wagons and the remains of four other wagon loads abandoned on the Kansas City route by drivers who rode their mules home. He had paid 25 cents for a hundred pound sack of flour. In Custer it brought $1.00 a pound. The extra oxen brought $1.00 per pound undressed weight. Nobody there had learned or took time to hunt game and meat was at a premium.

His unparalleled feat of freighting an expedition directly across the sandhills through buffalo Gap instead of around Sidney, with ox drawn wagons of supplies and his return through Indian country could provide another story of pioneer sprit and dogged determination.

However, he was not the only one who displayed courage and pioneer spirit. Our grandmother was left alone with three small children and a baby and while Indians no longer went on the warpath they stopped by in small parties, taking what they could get away with.

When the children whispered that the Indians were coming, Mary Jane hid the baby in the end of the enlarged fireplace behind some wood and smoked meat, praying that he wouldn't cry. She took down the rifle from above the fireplace and stood off the raiding party. One brave wanted the large butcher knife he saw lying on the kitchen table. As he started through the door she told him not to come any further. When he paid no attention, remembering what some Indians had done to other women and children and fearing what he could do with the knife if he got it, she shot him as he came forward. He fell backwards and she pulled the skins that were the doorway across between the dead one and the children who had been hiding under the be. She then spent the rest of the day and that night in fear and trembling, wondering what would be the consequences. Would they come back, overpower her and kill them all in reprisal?

After a sleepless night she gingerly looked outside to see if any Indians were lurking about. There were none. There was nothing. The dead one had been silently removed and all tracks obliterated by swishing and dragging something over them. Nevertheless she lived in mortal fear of the next time, praying for courage and for Thomas to return home. For all she knew he might never return. He could have been killed. But return he did and great washer joy when her prayers were finally answered.

In 1877 he decided to try one more year and did some more freighting. But as the year wore on he decided that he had spent six fruitless years there and would not waste the rest of his life feeding grasshoppers. He vowed he would find land that you didn't have to eat every time the wind blew. He considered going to Oregon as so many others had done but a wife, five children (Urbanus had come along in May of that year) and a persuasive land agent for the B&MR R.R. tipped the scales against Oregon to settling farther east in Nebraska.

Part V

West Blue Chapter

May 1, 1878, railroad land sale maps were published and 33,800 acres in Fillmore County were offered. There were 240 undivided parcels of land. 170 quarter sections (160 acres) and 70, 80 acre tracts. Tom bought the NW 1/4 of section 27 in West Blue township for $1056 and received his receipt.

So it was that in 1878 Tom Bender came to West Blue in a covered wagon bringing his wife, four small children, baby Urbanus, a bony cow, a Chester White sow and a sod-buster walking plow. The quarter was north of the railroad and the new home was put on high ground near the northeast boundary.

The original bill of sale failed to define the width of the right of way for the railroad but three and a half years later this was settled. When the C.B. & Q. took over the B. & M.R. the railroad reserved 200 foot along the track. They also issued guaranteed warranty deeds for the original ones. Grandpa's was dated October 28, 1881. That document is still in good condition today and ended the troubles he had with claim jumpers.

So many eager homeseekers and small investors came to Fairmont because of the sale that the railroad land office and authorized agents were swamped. This gave unprincipled land sharks, confidence men and other shysters a chance to come in and victimize impatient and unwary newcomers. The prospects were driven around in fancy livery "rigs' to see fine acres of unfenced grass and unbroken cropland. The crooks took high prices for ornately printed, but entirely worthless bills of sale for almost any unfenced grassland that the "sucker" saw and took a liking to.

How many times Bender's place was sold by these men can't be known but several times strangers brought phony papers and tried to claim the spring-fed water hole and green grass along the bottom of the west pasture draw.

One time Tom and oldest son Frank (then 11) were working in the field and discovered some people had started to make a dug-out by the pond. He stopped his oxen, took his bull whip in hand and went to confront the interlopers. He bade Frank to stay out of sight and run for Mama if need be. When he asked them to leave, telling them that he owned the land, one of the men leveled a rifle at him. Frank was horrified. He hardly knew whether to run for Mama and the Sharps 55 or attack with a pitchfork and scythe. T.J. stalked closer and closer, then suddenly with a deft crack of the whip the rifle lay in the pond useless. He turned on his heel and walked back to the oxen. The next morning the intruders were gone and never heard of again.

The Bender home was over a mile from #11 School. Frank, Dora and Letitia entered school that fall (1878) and Elwood went with them the next term even though he was only four. Satisfied that they had found a decent place to live, they stayed in West Blue township for twenty-seven years. Nine children were born there. Harvard N., Daisy (who lived only two months), Earl (who lived to be seven), Naomi, Alda, Archibald (who died an infant and his stillborn twin), Dwight L. and Hubert R.

Tom and Mary Jane raised their family to be devout Christians. Much of the time Sunday School and church were held in their home. All the children who survived were well known and liked in the West Blue and Fairmont communities. Eleven of the Bender children attended school at district #11. The boys and older girls went only when they could be spared from helping at home. Elwood was one of the older boys at school (he was 13) during the Blizzard of '88. A neighbor stopped by with a team and wagon and hey got all the children to another neighbor's home and safety.

In 1885 T.J. invested in the future he so firmly believed in. An investment that paid off many times over. He was one of the original stockholders in the Fairmont Creamery Company which started in the little brick building in the corner of the park. That company is now called Fairmont Foods and does a world wide business.

By 1888 Fairmont had grown to some 1800 people. The farmers had to contend with horse-traders, gypsies and other transient elements. The drought of 1890 greatly increased the number of railroad bums, migrants, and other human predators. Livestock and poultry was serious and costly to farmers especially along the railroad. There were even some murders committed. So a Vigilante Society was organized to cope with the situation. Frank was 21 in 1891 and eligible to join. He was a member from 1891 to 1907. During that time there were many prosecuted in Fairmont, West Blue, Geneva and Madison townships.

In 1890 in spite of the drought T.J. (as he was known now most of the time) decided to build a new house. He needed more room for his family. The children had to stand up to eat, and there were not enough bedrooms. A large two story frame house was begun in 1891 after bringing lumber from Nebraska City. It was all hand selected, no knots or crooked grain. The house still stands three mi. west of Fairmont. They also built and upright cistern at one time which afforded a more or less constant water supply and a measure of water pressure. That is still there too.

Grandpa owned and operated a horse-power threshing machine which had a raddle straw burning return flue steam engine. He built up a run limited only by the straw handling problems of stack threshing. In the 1890's he purchased the first coal burning steam rig in Fillmore county. That had a wind stacker.

After the regular threshing season, they stack threshed till Christmas and often till Easter depending on the weather. They extended the run from West Blue into Geneva, Fairmont, Madison, and Grafton townships. In 1891 T.J. walked home on Christmas Eve from Burros (about 12 miles) spent Christmas at home and walked back on Christmas night. Elwood (who was 16) slept on the bare ground under to machine to guard it and get an early start. Usually Wood slept in the straw pile.

Life was not all wok and no play for the Benders. Grandpa was a drum major of the West Blue and later the Fairmont band for some time. Elwood played the cornet, Harvey the snare drum and Dwight played the alto horn at first but later changed to flute and piccolo because they had to walk three miles to practice and those were easier to carry with him. This band was well known and played at many functions as well as presenting band concerts in the park. They also had nice red uniforms with gold braid.

A very dark period in the lives of the Benders came in 1893. One day Elwood and Harvey took a load of grain to the Fillmore Mill to bring back flour. The mill was located north of Grafton on the Blue River. The river was so named by the Indians because of the blue haze that nearly always hung over the trees along the river and could be seen for miles.

There were several in line when they arrived so Harvey looked around for something to do. by the mill pond he found a tub which had been used in making sorghum. It had wood sides and ends with a tin bottom that extended up a ways over the sides. It was shaped something like a boat so he thought to use it for one. But it evidently was dried out from lying around. It leaked badly and down he went. He could not swim, was terrified when his legs cramped and went down again and again. Elwood, who could not swim either, jumped in to try to help him. A neighbor, Shelley Heckman, who had come there that day too, could swim and rescued them both but it was too late for Harvey. He died May 20, 1893, not quite fifteen years old.

Mother Mary Jane was very ill at the time. She hemorrhaged an died on May 25, 1893. She was not yet forty five years old. She was a fine Christian wife and mother and was survived by nine of their children. Seven of them under 21 years of age.

The next five years were relatively quiet. Uncle Frank married Margaret Grone. Aunt Dora married a neighbor boy, Lewis Farrar, and settled on a farm just north of Fairmont. Later on Aunt Lettie decided to be an Adventist and married a form West Blue neighbor, George Rothwell, who was now a railroad man and they moved to Lincoln in College View. This left Naomi to be the "little mother" when she was 15.

Elwood went to the Spanish American War as a musician or bugler for Co. G. of the 1st Nebr. Volunteers. He left the 28th of April in 1898, stayed for the Philippine Insurrection and returned Aug. 23, 1899. On Nov. 8 of that year he married Lillian Barr of Lincoln and brought his bride to the home place so that Omie could marry John Miller and have a home of her own.

My mother said that Grandpa pored over his Bible day after day trying to decide whether he should marry again. finally March 8, 1800, nearly seven years after Mary Jane died he married Lillian Rundell Stiles, a widow who had lived in Fairmont but had moved back to Illinois.

Sometime during the next five years Uncle Urb also decided to be an Adventist and married Nana Rothwell (a sister to the man Aunt Let married) and went into the ministry. Grandpa didn't object although he couldn't see it himself, but one day when Urb came home and went out on Sunday to hitch up the horses, Grandpa said, "Nothing doing! You don't have to work on your Sabbath, I won't interfere there, but my horses are not going to work on my Sabbath! They need their day of rest too."

Aunt Alda started high school in Fairmont and walked the three and a half miles morning and night, in good weather. When it was bad she stayed in town and worked for her board and room. She was the first of the Benders to graduate from High school. This she did in 1905.

Part VI

Fairmont Finale

May 31, 1905 T.J. Bender bought the Fairmont waterworks from Bertise Aldrich for $2000. It consisted of a 100 ft. standpipe which was guaranteed for 100 yrs, two wells and a steam plant to operate the pump, with fire pressure rams capable of blowing the mains out.

Grandpa and Grandma Lillian moved into a house one block east of the post office in Fairmont which he bought from Margaret Aldrich Aug. 24, 1905. They lived in that house for thirty four years. Alda, Dwight and Hubert were still at home when this move was made.

In 1908 Grandpa added an electric plant and provided street lights and electricity for the town. At first it was just from evening till midnight on week days and till eleven on Sundays. Later on, electricity was furnished in the daytime on Monday and Tuesday for washing and ironing. Finally a small engine driven generator was added and electricity was available full time.

Frank was his right hand man in this venture but Dwight and Hubert both helped when Frank went to live in Lincoln. uncle Hubert often rode on his Excelsior Henderson Twin motorcycle to check the lines. (To me that was living dangerously.) Then Frank returned when Dwight and wife Selma (Peterson) Bender moved to a homestead about twenty miles from Burwell and Hubert enlisted in World War I.

Although I was not yet 6 I remember when the Armistice was signed the thrill I got when Uncle Frank held me up and let me pull the cord to blow the big steam whistle which usually marked only the noonday times of 12 and 1 and then 6 o'clock in the evening. That day after 11 o'clock it seemed the whistle blew every few minutes. Later the long troop trains came through with soldiers literally hanging out the windows and one of them brought home Uncle Hubert and my cousins, Lester and Lawrence Farrar (Aunt Dora's boys). They were actually older than "Unk" and liked to tease him about it.

Grandpa owned and operated the light plant until 1919 when he retired at nearly 73 years of age. His old war wound had forced him to use a cane to get around. That made it difficult to shovel coal to the boiler. His boys all had homes and lives of their own and it was hard to get good help.

Two years after he retired Grandpa bought a new Buick touring car, learned to drive and drove till he was 90. Even after that he drove to church and took the car to the garage a block and a half away to have it serviced.

One evening when I was coming home from teaching school near Geneva who should I meet but Grandpa, a mile out of town and going at a good clip, taking a "joy-ride' all by himself. He recognized me too and knew that I saw him but neither of us ever said a word about it. He was supposed to just be getting the car checked. His own garage was long and low, back by the alley. He had to turn into the alley and around a huge maple tree to get his car in there. The south end, as long as the car part, was his shop- a fascinating place- where he spent many busy hours.

I never had the privilege of driving him very many times and all of those were short trips. Uncle Frank took him. Uncle Hubert took him. My brother Paul and wife took him on several extended trips, and that is where and when he accumulated much of the information and material I am using here.

I was one of the few grandchildren who grew up near Grandpa, under his ever-watchful eye. In fact I have often said hat I grew up in the second pew from the front of the church. That was where he sat and since my folks were always in the choir, I sat with him. You didn't squirm nor get restless either. His approval and disapproval influenced my life a great deal. He was very interested and concerned about my welfare. Always came to hear me and applauded when I sang or played or whatever.

Here I want to add a few fragments that really had nothing to do with his life's progress but to me they're interesting.

H could crack pecans, filberts and English walnuts between his thumb and forefinger as easily as if they were peanuts. He could practically crush a man's hand in his when they shook hands if they tried a "gripping" contest, which some did. But his eyes twinkled and with women he was extra gentle and considerate.

I remember him spading his garden plot in town, although he used two canes to walk, using his powerful shoulders to push the spading fork down and turn the ground even when he couldn't stand on one foot and raise the other to step on the fork.

He had a big Victrola or phonograph that had a diamond point needle and a cabinet below to hold records. Those records were very thick and heavy. He had quite a few religious and patriotic ones but not all were that kind. He would wind it up and then sit there and sing with it. I especially remember him singing "I'm Forever Blowing Bubbles" because I thought that an odd one for him to be fond of. Another of this type that he sometimes played was "Pack Up Your Troubles". Then there was "Listen to the Mocking Bird", and he would whistle with the birds on that one. Another one he sometimes sang was "Ach du Leiber Augustine".

He had a big snowball bush that he was so proud of. Also a trumpet vine growing on the front porch (which had been brought from the farm). He could take the flowers, press the small end of the "trumpet" between his lips, blow and make it toot or squawk.

One highlight of his life was his 90th birthday celebration in 1936. There were so many relatives came that some of them necessity had to stay at our house. I was happy about that because usually everybody who came to visit stayed at his house. That party was a great one for him with his children, grandchildren and great grandchildren all around him. He was so glad that they could come. He also kept planning what he would do when he got "older".

The next summer in 1937 when his younger brother Peter cam t visit, Paul and Alyce took them on an auto trip to the Black Hills. Grandpa's rheumatism was bothering more all the time and he thought he might get relief at Hot Springs, South Dakota. Besides, Alda lived at Edgemont and Hubert lived at Deadwood and they could visit them as well.

They went to Custer and visited the Wax Museum. there they found prominently displayed a faded photograph "Ox-Train Arriving in Custer, 1876". Grandpa recognized his oxen by the distinctive pattern of their white marking, the unusual size of the team hitched to the lead wagon, and the four (two span) hooked to the next wagon. He pointed to the picture and said "That Babe was a mighty good ox. With his teammate, Muley, they weighted twice as much as the others and they could walk off with a load six big horses couldn't budge."

Now Custer South Dakota has a big Pageant every year and had used that photograph many times to advertise their celebrations but had never hand an identification. They committee persuaded Grandpa to ride in the "Gold Discovery Days" parade under a banner, "Bull-Whacker to Custer City, 1876".

He was very pleased by the invitation to ride in the parade again the next year and to be a permanent resident of Custer. His reply, "I won't stay, but I'll be back next year. I am only 90. We'll find the old route from Buffalo Gap to Custer City if it takes all summer." He cleared his throat, wiped his eye and said, "We'll go home now. May God bless all these fine people that have been so friendly and good to us."

He returned to the Black Hills the next year, taking Aunt Let in place of Great Uncle Pete. The search for land marks of the old wagon route was strenuous and not too rewarding. Many things had changed and deep sand does not leave permanent ruts like those found in rock in parts of the Oregon Trail. But we have copies of the Custer County Chronicle and the Rapid City Daily Journal for July 1937 that have replicas of the photograph and articles about Grandpa.

T.J. Bender was a rugged individualist. He was proud, self-confident, strong willed and self reliant. He was an indomitable and uncompromising parent. He believed idleness, alcohol and hypocrisy were some of the worst of sins. "What you may get for nothing is worth nothing," he often said. A solid citizen whose word was his bond, he believed in God, himself and the future. He made no compromise between right and wrong. His religious beliefs and morals were inflexible. He was intensely patriotic, devoted to his principles, and belief in the essential goodness of God-fearing people. He lived in and around Fairmont for some 61 years and earned the entire community's honor and respect.

He had always said that he was going to live to be 100 but when I was married on Christmas day in 1938 Grandpa was not able to come to the wedding. We went to the house afterwards and he was so happy for us but I hated seeing him not up to par. He had never been sick before and it threw him for a loop. That week he made up his mind and transferred his stock and pension and made arrangements to go to the Old Soldiers and Sailors home in Milford. (It was later moved to Grand Island). He seemed to know the end was near and wanted "Nin" to be taken care of. So, clear of mind and strong of sprit to the end, he made this move. But in my mind I believe it killed him to give up.

He was the last member of W.A. Webb Post G.A.R. He passed away January 2, 1939 aged 92 years and 30 days and was laid beside Mary Jane in Fairmont cemetery.

To My Grandfather

To be more loved no man could be

Excepting Christ who walks with thee

Your passing through, your many kin

The world a better place has been.

For those who grieve about your pyre

Who love you most my good Grandsire

Your wife, your children, my dear Mother

have God to trust, there is no other.

And should it be my lot in life

To match your years of ninety-two

I pray to God the good I can do

Can also match your efforts too.

And so you've sown the one great thought

Without which all would come to naught

You've left us with the most in life

To help us through this worldly strife.

I'm sorry I cannot come that way

To pay my last respects today

But none-the-less my grief is deep

I share with all our loss to sleep.

By Forrest Rothwell at Tulsa, Okla. on passing of his esteemed Grandfather

(This was read at the funeral.)

Part VII

His Children

Because their character reflects his I would like to tell a little of the things I remember about each of his children. I loved them all dearly and have no intention of trying to make anyone appear more important than the others, with the exception of my father, who of course was the most important to me and to those I am principally writing this for. However, I seem to know more about some than others. I really don't know why.

Uncle Frank had a deep dent and a scar at one corner of his forehead. I don't know how he got it but I often wondered if it was when he was a Vigilante. At one time he worked for the Woodruff Printing Co in Lincoln where he always kept the engines running smoothly. Later at the Richmond Candy Factory. He was also very adept at woodworking and anything mechanical.

He went to Powell, Wyo. because a good friend had a homestead there. HE bought a Fixit Shop in the town. Several relatives were a part of this project at one time or another. He finally sold it to Dwight. Late in life he married Maud (Dedmore) Haverson, spent his last years in North Platte and lived to be 91, almost 92. Those left of his five children live in California.

Aunt Dora was a beautiful person. So busy, but one day when I was out there I had a tiny rag doll about five inches long. It only had one dress. She said it must have more than one, else how could I change her clothes? She sat down and in abut 15 minutes I had dresses, slips and panties for that tiny doll. She had four children but died of cancer when she was not yet 51 and left daughter Dorothy (15) to care for three big brothers and their Dad.

Aunt Lettie visited oftener than most of the others because she could come on a R.R. pass to see her Dad. She was so comfortable to be around and probably knew more of the family history than any of the rest. She was one woman who became better and better looking the older she got. Leaving Nebraska they lived in Willmar, Minnesota for years and all but one of their six children were born there. Later they lived in Sioux City, Iowa. Uncle George was killed in a dreadful train wreck Nov. 15, 1929 when his train and another collided head -on. Aunt Let remained in Sioux City for some time but finished her long life (almost 91 years) in Tacoma, Washington tending her beautiful flowers and friends with part of her children.

My father, Elwood, learned to tune pianos at the U.N.L. and was a postal clerk in Lincoln for awhile but wanted to get back out in the country so took the civil service exams and passed with a 97% average. He then became a rural mail carrier out of Fairmont for over 33 years. At first he used a hors and buggy. In winter when the snow was packed, he used a sleigh replete with buffalo robe, long sheepskin coat, cap and mittens and a soapstone for his feet. He had to carry his dinner and eat on the way in bad weather for the route was over 28 miles long. Later more miles were added on. He had a model "T" roadster in 1914 and quit the horse altogether the next year. In 1917 he got a touring car. He would tear it down every summer and work it over and have it ready to go for another year. Later he had model "A's" that were closed in and a heater even!

He was very mechanical and meticulous. I think all the Bender boys had shops. I know he did, and could make just about anything. I have a big flat top desk which he made for me that I prize very much.

My mother died in 1943 and he was a ver lonesome man. Later he married Olive Rundell of Stafford, Kansas, a niece of Grandma Lillian and a close friend of Aunt Alda. She made a nice home for him for 13 years. He lived to be past 84 and was buried beside my mother and three of their five children in the same plot that Grandpa, Grandma, Harvey and the other children who died early were in.

He had a sweet tenor voice which he used mostly for others and he could play the cornet or trumpet beautifully. I never hear "Taps" but what my throat constricts. I heard him play it so many times at the cemetery on Memorial Day and at military funerals.

He was one of the kindest, gentlest men that ever lived and long after his death I got letters telling of how he had influenced someone's life and of how good he was. One minister wrote that if there were any saints in heaven, one of the greatest would be Elwood with his quiet unselfishness and service for the Lord. I know it was easy for me to understand a strict but loving and forgiving Heavenly father because of the earthly father I was privileged to have.

Elder Ubanus Bender and wife Nan served as missionaries for 40 years. They were in Jamaica from 1906 to 1913. Then back in this country to Montana for three years. In 1916 they took their small family, Thomas and June and wet to South Africa.

My mother told about how, when there were preparing to go as medical missionaries Uncle Urb was so intent on finding out as much as he could first hand about the body, that he carried with him a stomach pump and after eating would pump his own stomach at various times checking the length of time from ingestion to see how the digestive system worked and how various foods worked together, their rate of digestion, effects, etc. She didn't enjoy that particularly.

After serving ten years in Africa they were in N. Carolina another ten. Finally another ten years in parishes in Michigan until their retirement in 1946. Their last years were spent in Tennessee where they are buried on the Cumberland Plateau not too far from Chattanooga.

When the visited use I remember especially his keen interest in everything we did, the machinery we had, etc. He lived to be 82.

Aunt Omie was so pretty and sweet. She and my mother were especially close. She and Uncle John Miller first lived east of Fairmont but later moved to Missouri where she raised her three girls to be gentle and quiet little ladies. They lived in a log house, at least half of it was log but it had been added on to. I also believe that Jesse James hid o in a cave that was down in their pasture. One thing I know is that they raised bye best watermelons ever and shred them with all who stopped by.

She died of cancer when she was 53 not too long after Grandpa's 90th Birthday Party, but at least she got to come to that. He was so glad to have her there although it broke his heart to see her so frail.

After Aunt Alda graduated she taught school for awhile and then filed on a homestead of her own in So. Dakota in Haakon Co. and also taught school up there. She married Walter Kellogg and they raised four children.

I remember visiting there when I was quite small. On the way I was so thirsty but in the alkali country you had to buy water- 10 cents a glass and drink it in the establishment. When we got to their place I wanted to drink all the time but no matter how hard I tried I could only swallow a sip or two because of the bitter taste. It was hauled to the house in barrels form a well several miles away. Uncle Walt was killed in a soft shoulder accident on a nearby dam road but Aunt carried on.

She could draw pictures and was lots of fun to be around. She often forgot what she started to do because of getting caught up in the enthusiasm of the moment. She lived to be well past 91 and was known and loved in Edgemont for her kindness, her flowers and her garden. She spent the last few years with her children.

Uncle Dwight was so gentle and easy. I used to love the smell of cigar odor on his vest but I hated to smell the actual smoke. Also the gold in his teeth fascinated me when I was little. He never appeared to hurry but I am told that he never wasted a motion. He figured out ways to cut corners and make things easier and his output was tremendous and done father than those who seemed to be in a real rush.

He and his family left the Burwell homestead and went to Powell, Wyo. Again in search of a homestead. All were taken so he bought into Frank's shop. He later bought him out and added a plumbing department.

His first wife died in 1925 when their daughter, Doris was 6. Tow years later he married Della Rauchfuss of Powell. They had two children. He joined her brothers in beekeeping and spent many happy years at that, selling to Safeway and other large stores. He will be 91 this April '80. The only one still living. Last June they moved to Yakima, Washington to be near their children.

Uncle Hubert married Bertha Walker soon after he returned form W.W. I. They also went to Powell, Wyo. where he worked first for the electric company and later went into the plumbing department of Dwight's store.

When the shop was sold they moved to Marshalltown, Iowa. In later life Uncle Hube lived in Deadwood, So. Dakota but often wintered in Texas. He visited us every year or so. Sometimes for a short time and sometimes he would stay quite awhile, depending on what we had for him to fix or do. One time he figured out how to straighten up our garage which had become twisted by a 90 mi. per hour wind. It took a lot of engineering but he finally got the job done and that gave him a lot of satisfaction.

He had a little black book in which he kept the names and addresses of all his nieces and nephews and grandnieces and nephews. The one who had no children of his own adopted the entire family. When a member was added by marriage or a new baby was born into the family he was wont to write a letter of welcome, and such letters they were. He kept the whole family in touch with each other. The last time we went to see him in Deadwood I asked for somebody's address and he got tears in his eyes when he told me he had lost his little black book. He had hunted and hunted but couldn't find it anywhere. He lived to be 83.

And so we have descendents scattered form California and Washington state to Washington D.C.- from Minnesota to Missouri and Arizona and throughout the entire midwest. One man fathered a fine Christian family who in turn produced fine Christian families. Grandchildren and great grandchildren are nurses, doctors, teachers, agronomists, engineers, farmers, truck drivers, mechanics, ministers, students, secretaries- everything in the book except criminals, cheats and crooks.

"Train up a child in the way he should go and when he is old he will not depart form it." (Prov. 22:6)

He EXPECTED great things of us all!

In writing this I was not so much interested in the chronological or genealogical facts and dates, however interesting they might be, as I was in presenting the background and development of the MAN our grandfather was.

A devout Christian who maintained family worship every morning and impressed upon all his children the need for this strength. A man who knelt at that family worship even after having to use two canes to get around and who refused to be served in the pew but went forward and knelt at the altar to partake of the sacrament of holy communion.

The man who is responsible for our being here. Who was an example for all of his children- who shaped and colored our background- our inheritance. Who left us some of the finest, most valuable things possible. A sense of worth- a sense of responsibility- and a love of God, family and our fellow man.

This I wanted to do as a tribute to him and to my father. I also wanted to do it form my brother who revered them both so much. And I especially wanted to do it for my brother's and my children and grandchildren in the hope that they might become aware of the extremely rich HERITAGE that is theirs.

Elsie L. Fisher 3-31-1980

Appendix

Gen Name Born Died Married

3 Thomas Jefferson Bender 12-3-1846 1-2-1939

(1)Mary Jane Rouser 11-11 1848 5-25-1893 2-4-1869

(2)Lillian Rundell Bender 10-18-1859 3-29-1949 3-8-1900

4

Franklin Joseph Bender 3-13-1870 12-8-1961

(1)Margaret Catherine Grone 8-5-1874 11-9-1964

(2)Margaret Dedmore Halverson 9-13-1885 8- -1961

Durward Bender, Anna (Bender) Lee, Iva (Bender) Steele, Ruth (Bender) Bently, Ellis Bender

4 Isadora Norwood Bender 9-14-1871 4-10-1922

Lewis M. Farrar 12-29-1866 9-11-1940

Lester Bender, Lawrence Bender, Homer Bender, Dorothy (Bender) Lowe

4 Letitia Barbald Bender 8-14-1873 5-7-1964

George B. Rothewell 12-18-1865 11-15-1929

Stuart Rothwell, Francis Rothwell, Helen (Rothwell) Whitmer, Forrest Rothwell, Norman

Rothwell, Muriel Rothwell

4 Elwood Bender 1-14-1875 9-10-1959

(1)Lillian Dee Barr 1-16-1882 12-20-1943

Earl Bender, Paul Bender, Muriel Bender, Elsie (Bender) Fisher, Mary Bender

(2)Olive Edith Rundell 9-14-1885 5-8-1966 **see note (1)

4 Urbanus Bender 5-25-1877 6-3-1959

Annie Emma (Nana) Rothwell 9-24-1878 7-1-1965

Thomas Bender, June (Bender) Whitson

4 Harvard N. Bender 10-16-1878 5-20-1893

4 Daisy Bender 11-17-1879 1-17-1880

4 Earle Bender 1-20-1881 3-16-1888

4 Naomi Bender 9-7-1883 5-18-1937

John H. Miller 3-9-1882 8-4-1947

Mary (Miller) Neas), Ruth (Miller) Weltmer, Nelle (Miller) Hillier

4 Alda Bender 10-5-1885 5-15-1977 **see note (1)

Walter W. Kellogg 11-16-1885 5-13-1941

Virginia (Kellogg) Strassburg, Beth (Kellogg) McElroy, Marjorie (Kellogg) Francis, Donald

Kellogg

4 Archibald Bender 12-14-1887 12-14-1887

(also a stillborn twin)

4 Dwight L. Bender 4-22-1889 ?-1-1985 ** see note (1)

(1) Selma Peterson 4-2-1881 8-5-1925

Doris (Bender) Gras

(2)Della Rauchfuss 4-4-1900 6-12-1987 **see note (2)

Dorothy (Bender) Derry, Donald Bender

4 Hubert R. Bender 1-21-1891 1-28-1977 (74?) **see note (1)

Bertha Walker 10-26-1898 ?- 12-1986 ** see note (2)

** notes

From Social Security Death Index:

(1) Olive [Rundell] Bender, b. 14 Sep 1885, d. 15 May 1966, Residence: 67867 (Montezuma,Gray, KS), SSN: 514-46-6213, Issued: Kansas (1962)

(2) Alda [Bender] Kellogg, b. 5 Oct 1885, d. May 1977, Residence: 66203 (Shawnee Mission, Johnson,KS), SSN: 503-62-7074, Issued: South Dakota (1966)

(3) Dwight Bender, b. 22 Apr 1889, d. Jan 1985, Residence: 99203 (Spokane, Spokane, WA), SSN: 520-40-3393, Issued: Wyoming (1954)

(4) Della Bender, b. 4 Apr 1900, d. 6 Dec 1987, Residence: 99203 (Spokane,Spokane,WA), SSN: 520-40-7382, Issued : Wyoming (1954)

(5) Hubert Bender, b. 21 Jan 1891, d. Jan 1974, Residence: 57747 (Hot Springs, Fall River, SD), SSN: 484-07-7809, Issued Iowa, before 1951

(6) Bertha [Walker] Bender, b. 26 Oct 1898, d. Dec 1986, Residence: 93923 (Carmel, CA), SSN: 506-05-8084, Issued Nebraska, before 1951

Appendix II

Gen Name Birth Death Marriage

1 Emanuel Peter Bender 12-25-1791 1-3-1860

Susannah Wilt 4-29-1795 11-9-1884 12-12-1812

2 Benjamin Franklin Bender 1-6-1823 3-2-1897

Sarah Young 10-14-1826 5-20-1905 3-12-1846

3 Thomas Jefferson Bender 12-3-1846 1-2-1939

(1)Mary Jane Rouser 11-11-1848 5-25-1893 2-4-1869

(see Generation 4 for children of this marriage)

(2)Lillian Rundell Stiles 10-18-1859 3-28-1949 3-8-1900

3 Susannah Bender 6-1-1849 - -1930

Josiah Manges 5-8-1870

3 Barbara Ellen Bender 7-15-1851 - - 1936

Levi R. Shaffer 8-16-1870

3 Elizabeth Bender 9-25-1853 10-24-1854

3 Peter Austin Bender 3-17-1855 12-18-1939

Evaline Potts 12-30-1875

3 Miriam Bender 3-17-1857 5-11-1950

David Franklin Wonder 12-5-1875

3 Sarah Jane Bender 1-12-1859 11-23-1931

Lorenzo Dow Sine 8-9-1877

4 Margaret Ann Bender 1-22-1861 9-25-1924

Edward Fleegle 2-12-1880

4 Francis Siegel Bender 1-22-1863 11-8-1948

(1)Anna Miller 3-27-1927 12-2-1884

(2)Margaret Davis 11-2-1938

4 Mary Ida Bender 10-30-1865 10-29-1964

William Barnhart

4 John Sheridan Bender 11-30-1867 8-1-1926

Mary Jane Bailey

Appendix III

Prairie Progress in West Central South Dakota 1968.

Assembled and compiled by "The Historical Society of Old Stanley County"

Alda Kellogg

I, Alda Bender Kellogg, was born to T.J. and Mary Jane Bender on October 5, 1885, near Fairmont, Nebraska, in Fillmore County some 54 miles from the capitol of Lincoln. My great-grandfather came, when a boy, with his parents from Holland in the 1700's and lived in the Allegheny Mts. of Pennsylvania. He named his son, my grandfather, Benjamin Franklin Bender. The family name, Bender, is Dutch for blacksmith and means "bender of iron." My grandfather, in turn, named my father Thomas Jefferson and he was mostly known as T.J., and by my mother as Jeff.

After graduating from high school, I went to Wesleyan Normal, receiving a three-year elementary certificate, which would have been a life certificate if I had taught three years in succession. After my first year at Dorchester, Neb., in 1907-'08, I came to western South Dakota and took up a claim of 160 acres.

My first acquaintance of Philip was when the four-horse stage, taking me to my claim near the Smith Store and Post Office, stopped at the post office in Philip, two miles down Bad river in a dugout. Here we got supper and were given a room for the night. I was really tired after the ninety mile ride from Ft. Pierre. The room with a dirt floor and a feather bed was really a welcome sight! The next day, I rode the stage to my claim, which was bout 1.5 miles from the Smith Post Office. The Godfrey Griesels lived close by.

The railroad between Fr. Pierre and Rapid City was just being built (May), and on the following 4th of July, they connected the two with a big celebration in Philip.

Occasionally, I went with the Griesel family by team and wagon to Philip. I can remember Philip's Man Street to which we cam onto by a long steep hill. The street was lined on both sides by bare wooden buildings set about a step high from the sidewalk, which was of a couple of planks held together by a cross plank. Here I remember weeds were growing between the planks and store buildings. I remember once I lost a $5 bill and going back to find it among the weeds. I thanked God for taking care of it form me, as I didn't have very many in those days.

I left the vicinity of Smith when I proved up in July of 1908 and then went back to Fairmont, Neb., for four years.

Then after the four years, I cam back to help Miss Bannum run the Smith Post Office and store, which she had bought from Hartzell's. During the summer of 1912 I first met Walt, my future husband, who came to trade at the store.

That fall, Miss Bannum and her mother went to Florida to spend the winter, leaving me in charge of the store and post office. They returned in March and made arrangements to sell the store to Kurfman's. They advised me to apply for the South Schoening School. I taught this school form 1913 to 1916. But I had taught for five months during the year I was proving up on my homestead. I taught in an abandoned claim shack. My pupils were early settler's children, eight in number. I was paid twenty dollars a month in warrants. The school and district were named Bender after me, since I was the first teacher.

I lived in a homestead shack across the road from the J.D. Riddell family while teaching at South Schoening School. Miriam and Howard Riddell and I drove a horse and buggy to school.

It was during those years that I helped organize a Sunday school. I had always read form the Bible and had prayer each morning before the school session began. I woke one night seeming to hear someone say, "Alda, your children ought to have a Sunday school." So I told the pupils- Gladys, Cecil, Bert, Stanley Teeters, Miriam and Howard Riddell, and Verne Young- to come over Sunday. They came, and Monday morning Cecil said, "Teacher, Mom wants to know why the grown-ups can't come to your Sunday School?" I was surprised and pleased. Word was spread around. The next Sunday the schoolhouse was full of people. A Sunday school was organized and a superintendent and teachers selected.

On Christmas Day 1915 I was married to Walter Kellogg at the Martin Kellogg home. All my pupils and families and other close neighbors were in attendance. I had a lovely wedding. After supper, I went to my new home. Walt's homestead house was larger than most. It had a 14' x14' living room and kitchen combined, and a 10' x 14' bedroom. Grace Riddell was my first visitor. I was so proud of my little home with its packing-box kitchen cabinets, little cook stove, and a piano we had rescued from the mice in an abandoned claim shack. It was here on this place that Walt and I raised our four children- Virginia, Beth, Marjorie, and Donald.

In May, 1935, we left Haakon County and moved to near Edgemont. While on this place, Walt met with a fatal accident. I later moved into the town of Edgemont and it is here I still reside.