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Chapter 10: Fun And Games

← Before Today: A History of Holt County, Nebraska

Fun and Games Chapter Ten For today’s children, who wonder in all sincerity if Great-grandpa and Grandma, who had no TV, radio, stereo or cars, ever had any fun, this chapter should provide the answers. They did— and they made it themselves.

During the first forty years of Holt County’s existence by far the most popular passtime of the pioneers was cow pasture baseball. And it was exactly that— played in a pasture with cow chips marking the bases. Mineola Ball Team 1890 to 1900. Front Row: George Tomlinson, Ernest Henry, Hart Tomlinson, Arch Henry. Back Row: Lee Henry, George Hudson, Walt Pickering, Bill Carson, Johnie Carson. Courtesy Bob Tomlinson. Many of the earliest games (1870’s and 1880’s) were played barehanded because no one owned a glove. Every town and community had its ball team, sometimes two or three of them, and rivalry was extremely keen.

O’Neill had its famed “Irish Peelers. Atkinson, a red-hot baseball town, had three teams, the “Reds, ” the “Blues” and the “Young Upstarts.” For several years the “Atkinson Reds” won every game they played, up and down the line, and their reputation grew until they were rated the fastest team west of Norfolk. Harry Mathews, editor of the Atkinson Graphic, coached the team and spent much time and money arranging a town baseball diamond and keeping the team up to snuff.

Atkinson put its money and personal support behind its unbeatable Reds, flocking in droves to watch them sweep the diamond clean in game after game. Then came the game with Wisner, a hot team some one hundred and twenty miles to the east. Sure of a win, Atkinson folks as usual bet heavily on the Reds. When they went down in defeat the blow was too much to bear and the team disbanded. The town sort of lost interest in the game for several years. Then a young man, unnamed in the records, who had played Minor League ball in Iowa, came to Atkinson and revived the game. Under Tom Campbell’s management, the “Atkinson Ball Team” again became a threat to all surrounding towns. The “Irish Peelers” also drew big crowds wherever they played. One family made up a good share of the “Peelers” for as long as the five Donohoe brothers, John, Tom, Jim, Hugh and Patrick, from up north of town, played on the team. Another O’Neillite, Tim Hanley, Jr., merchant, became so expert that he was often hired to pitch for teams as far west as Chadron and east into Knox county. 80 O’Neill Rockets, active in the 1940’s. Seated: Kenny Ellingston, Kelly Saindon, Dick Tomlinson, Gene Wolfe, Ted Tomjack, Danny Helmer. Back Row: Lloyd Godel, Darrel Bright, unknown, Ed Smith, Joe Connaro, Ivan Pruss, Maynard Morrow, Max Grenier. Bat Boy, Georgie Tomlinson. Courtesy Mrs. Max Grenier Two other families in the county came near having all brother baseball teams— the Troshynski brothers and the Beckwith brothers, all of the Emmet area. There were seven Tro-shynski boys, who boasted three fine pitchers among them, Tom, Bill and Hank; and six Beckwiths, who claimed a top pitcher, Dean, in their ranks. In 1928 the two teams were matched against each other. In the two games they played the Beckwiths won both, five to three. They never got around to playing the rub. The Troshynskis filled out their team with Jim and Eddie O’Donnell and the Beckwiths with Bill Coleman, Carl and Elmer Lorenz.

Dean Beckwith pitched two years in the State League and was one of the best. He next pitched for the Sioux Falls “Canarys,” a traveling team. Then Barney Burch of the Omaha Western League tried to get him to pitch for Omaha, but he was making more money where he was. He was the fastest hundred yard dash runner in the League and only one man could run the bases faster. He was the only pitcher to win four games in the Denver tournament. He played quite a few different states against the best— pitching against Babe Ruth, Lou Gehrig and other big league players in exhibition games. He pitched against Satchel Paige several times when Satchel was with the Monarchs, the House of David and other teams barnstorming the country.

Four miles east of O’Neill, on Dry Creek, there was an early ball team important enough to have uniforms. To be sure they were homemade, by the players’ sisters and girl friends who sewed the white “Dry Creek” emblems onto the dark blue cloth of the suits. West of O’Neill lived three families whose land adjoined, the John Coffeys, the Ryans and the Hollands. The sons of the three families had their own team, a good one, which played other teams in the area. If the score was very close, or some other point of dispute came up, “a big fight followed and Irish Atkinson Ball Team. Dr. McKee in front. Others named are, left to right, Bob Ford, Darley Raymer, Wes Kirkland and Frank Weber, also Cracker Miller. Courtesy A. G. Miller tempers decided the outcome.” Inman, too, had a top notch team An Inman Ball Team. Delbert Sholes, Rupert and Lyman Arkfeld, Jim Gallagher, Pat Carney, Eddie Boyle, Hugh Bittner, Henry Fowler, Lafe Tague. Courtesy Sarah Michaelis and rivalry was especially intense between it and O’Neill. The Inman team did so well that the boys got to thinking they were pretty good, said Harry Clausen, “and they were, until they played a Negro team that was touring the country.” John Cook coached the team and Henry Fowler was its catcher. Once, in the heat of a very important game, all activity had to be halted for the team to gather around Henry while he changed into pants that weren’t so badly ripped. Even as Atkinson had its junior ball teams under the supervision of Dr. McKee and Al Frost, so O’Neill had its East and West Kid Ball teams. Gene Leahy told how the teams played each other every Saturday. “We played with ‘string balls,’ he said, “made by winding string around a small rubber ball. The string was then stitched to keep it from unwinding. Clear Golden and I were the most expert at making balls, so we were in great demand in the 1905-1908 era. “The teams got to be pretty good, and after each tilt the East Siders and the West Siders went around town, hitting up the businessmen for donations. They were good sports and none turned us down. We used the proceeds to buy bats and gloves. We could buy a good glove for a dollar or a dollar and a quarter. M.F. Harrington, O’Neill’s great lawyer, was one of our best contributors. Every town had its ball team and Dad used to finance us on trips to Atkinson, Ewing and Page. Opposing team members ‘roomed’ us away from home and we reciprocated when they came to O’Neill. It was great sport.” In pioneer times every holiday inspired some kind of a community celebration, with Christmas and the Fourth of July the ones most eagerly looked forward to. In most towns the Fourth started with a big BANG, very 81 F MA & Ballagh Ball Team, Chambers area. Left to right: Will Rowse, Ernest Rowse, Walter Graves, Austin Chambers, Robert Ballagh, Hamilton, Ballagh, George Rowse, Howard Krab, Jake Howe, Arthur Rowse. George Rowse is the only one of this team now alive.

early in the morning, and stayed noisy all day. The bang came from the customary “shooting of anvils.” A few enterprising young men arose with the dawn and hied themselves to the blacksmith shop, (if there were two or three shops in town there would be that many bangs) where they placed a hefty charge of gunpowder on an anvil. Cutting a fuse long enough to reach from the powder to the outer edge of the anvil, they put it in place and turned a second anvil upside down on top of the first and lit the fuse. The resulting roar rousted everybody out of bed to start the day. Thousands of fire crackers of all sizes kept the noise at a high level until long after dark. The country people drove to town, or to a central grove or other popular picnic spot to celebrate. Everybody got up much earlier than usual to get the chores done and breakfast over, then sprigged up in their best clothes and got into the rigs that were to take them to the celebration. For some the conveyance was a lumber wagon with hay in the bottom and quilts on top; for others spring wagons, buggies or fancy carriages. A wash boiler or two of picnic food was a part of every outfit.

All town celebrations included a parade down mainstreet. The program followed. Patriotism was the keynote for all Fourth of July observances. The region’s best elocutionist always read the Declaration of Independence with deep feeling. Singing and one or more Orations of the Day followed, then the general picnic dinner occupied everybody until time for the afternoon program of baseball, horse races, races and so on.

A long feature Mineola Sun for foot races, sack carried in the July 11, 1888, describes a typical celebration at Apple Creek, now Dorsey. The editor writes that he was invited to ride from 8 Mineola to Apple Creek, a distance of several miles, in the carriage of Judge Roberts of O’Neill. The Judge was to deliver the oration of the day. “We gladly accepted,” wrote the editor, “and accordingly cast our lot with the staid and sober portion of the community that went to Apple Creek. Our delegation was one of importance, as it not only contained the Judge but also M. T. Elliott as marshal and the Trullinger boys who were to furnish the martial music. Our procession arrived on the grounds about ten o’clock. Very shortly afterward the exercises commenced.

“After prayer by the chaplain and singing by the glee club, the Declaration of Independence was read by Dr. Hoover of Walnut Grove; then followed by Judge Roberts’ masterly effort as orator of the day. The Judge has had twenty years experience as a Fourth of July orator and is familiar with every incident in our country’s history that renders it sacred to all lovers of American Institutions. “At twelve noon the assembly adjourned for dinner and gathered in groups in the cool shade of the 30 Bliss Ball Team, before 1910. Back Row: Henry Frady, manager, Ray Lienhart, Jess Wheatland, Ben Oetter, Dellie Fauquier,sitting or kneeling: Frank Lienhart, John Lienhart, Jody Honeywell, Dan Honeywell, Mike Oetter, John Oetter. Courtesy Elsie Oetter beautiful trees and partook of the substantial things of life. The most exciting event of the day was the baby show. Fifteen mothers came forward and registered their offspring for the contest. M. W. Richardson, Dr. Hoover and Squire Postlewait were appointed judges, and after carefully reviewing the entries, they awarded the premium to Carlie Connelly of Dorsey. In addition to the premium of $2 the parents of this child will receive this great moral family paper, (Sun) for a year. The balance of the afternoon was spent in playing ball, dancing, swinging and other amusements.” Many Holt Countians had gone to Paddock that day, for the big celebration there, and our editor relates that very early in the morning teams began arriving in Mineola from all points of the compass, where they had formed into two processions, one bound for Apple Creek, the other for Paddock. That village, being three times as far from Mineola as Apple Creek, the editor notes that “Mineolians arrived too late for oratorial exercises” delivered H. J. Hall. However Paddock had the the by “an immense crowd and a general good time.” O’Neill reported a grand celebration in 1893. A part of the opening paragraph in the Frontier of July 6 reads, “The din of the firecracker, the light of the pyrotechnics and the sonorous tones of the speaker have died away to the echo and the shadow . . .” A good rain on the night of the third tempered the elements and the program was carried out without a hitch. The celebration opened with a parade headed by Marshal of the Day, B. A. DeYarman, four special policemen in uniform and the O’Neill Silver Cornet Band. Next came the Liberty Float (a hay rack festooned in red, white and blue), where Goddess Allie Slattery presided over the forty-two states, each rep- 82 Atkinson Band, playing for 1898 Fourth of July Celebration. Left to right: Will Murphy, Lazelle Sturdevant, George Brown, Mr. Fisher, Dr. Blackburn, Olivia McKee (little girl), Brantley Sturdevant, Harry Gallagher, George Sturdevant, Will Miller, Ira Burlson.

resented by a small boy or girl. The town’s pride and joy, its fine new Fire Department, and a long line of citizens in gayly decorated buggies and carriages followed.

After the parade the “vast throng” repaired to the bowery for the program. It was long: band music, singing, prayer, reading of the Declaration and many speeches. Mayor Dickson made two and the Orator of the Day, the Hon. T. J. Mahoney of Omaha, made one, “which was well received and interrupted frequently by applause.” The first event after the picnic dinner was an exhibition by the new fire department. An old building, previously splashed with coal oil, was set afire and the alarm sounded. The two hose companies then made good runs from the fire station. Hercules Company arrived first but Liberty Company got the first stream of water on the fire.

Horse, pony and bicycle races for boys and men came next. Then a tug of war that ended in a tie. There was a foot race for fat men, a “free for all” and a boys’ race, a putting stone (Irish style) and a stick pulling contest, wrestling matches, standing jump, high jump, running jump and a “hop, step and jump” contests. An exhibition foot ball game, with eleven men on a side, took the place of the base ball game in O’Neill that year. The official program closed with “a magnificent display of fireworks, the grandest ever witnessed in this part of the state.” Dancing in the bowery until far into the night completed the great jubilee day.

Getting ready for such a celebration must have been almost as much fun as putting it on. Early in June, 1893, the citizens were notified, by means of handbills all over town, that there would be a meeting in the city council chamber to plan the program. At 8:30 in the evening the O’Neill band marched down the street to the door of the council room, rendering a lively tune to call the people together. The mayor then appointed his committees, one on finance, one on program, another on speakers, and so on. The big bowery was built on “Fahy’s Corner” and neither money nor pains were spared, anywhere. Liberal prizes were advertised and the Frontier urged, “Come and celebrate with us. Bring your wife and children and all your wife’s people. Boys, bring your best girl, and if you have none bring some other fellow’s girl.” Inman was another highly patriotic town, and Archibald Tompkins, born on the Fourth of July, was one of its most enthusiastic citizens. For every celebration he lavishly decorated his buggy and harness with many small American flags and drove in the parade. At the close of each celebration he thanked everybody for putting on such a fine party in honor of his birthday.

Christmas was both a family day and a public event. The public part took place at churches and schoolhouses. Much time and preparation went into the making of a church or school program, with children diligently “practiced” for their speaking and singing parts. For those who lived close enough to the Niobrara River there could be a cedar Christmas tree. For all others a substitute was in order. A bare limbed deciduous tree would do, or a “pyramid” built of wood and covered with green or white muslin. At school houses the Even the ladies sometimes had an active part in the fun, as proven by this “Young Ladies’ Foot Race” at Getter Lake in 1909.

teacher and children decorated the tree. In churches the mothers usually did it. In either case homemade paper chains and strings of popcorn and cranberries festooned the tree, real wax tapers or candles lighted it. Santa Claus, in a homemade suit and cotton whiskers, handed out hard candy and popcorn balls. Nuts and peanuts, scarce and expensive, were seldom included. Fruit, too, was usually in short supply in the wintertime, although a merchant or some other prosperous citizen sometimes contributed a barrel of apples to a Christmas program.

From the beginning, country school houses were social centers for the surrounding settlers. They were the polling places for most elections; community sings and dances, basket suppers and pie socials were held in them. For these last the girls and women brought ornate and fancy boxes, with the name of the owner hidden inside. Men and boys bid on the boxes, the bids going up a nickel or a dime at a time. The men delighted in finding out which box belonged to the girl half of a courting couple, then “running the bid up” on her boy friend. Or, if two young men were interested in the same girl, the bidding rivalry could be keen— and the school treasury enriched by quite a sum. Wives, too, enjoyed keeping their husbands ignorant of the identity of their boxes, and so got to eat supper with some other woman’s husband, or the neighborhood bachelor. Literaries were other favorite entertainments held in school houses. The programs were lively, varied and interesting, with everybody, old and young, taking part. Debating was popular and every community had several top debaters. Many a weighty national or political issue was settled in country school houses by this means. Sometimes the debate was purely for fun, the subject being “resolved that red pigs make better bacon than spotted pigs,” or “Resolved that the cattle industry is more profitable than the sheep industry.” There was great variety of talent among the participants of the old time literaries: fine singers, excellent “Elocutionists,” accomplished musicians, some of whom played by note, others by “ear.” There were popular family singing groups and some fine harmonizing quartets. In time the “literary” evolved into the P.T.A. and much of its early entertainment value was lost in the process.

Decoration Day, on May 30, was another holiday for which the people turned out in great numbers. Programs similar to those on the Fourth of July comemorated the day in a 83 The Binkerd Family Band. This picture was taken about 1900 in front of Dr. Skelton’s drug store in Page. The occasion was Memorial Day. The band played for Fourth of July celebrations and for many other affairs. It played for the last time at the Old Soldiers Reunion and Bean dinner in Meek. Left to right the players are: Archie, Hearley, George, Elizabeth, Judith, and the father, James Binkerd. All are now deceased. Courtesy Mrs. Howard Marsten, Lynch. church or hall before the crowd moved on to the local cemetery to decorate the graves of its war dead. In O’Neill in 1893 the Frontier reported that the procession from the Knights of Pythias Hall to the cemetery was the largest ever seen on Decoration Day. All business places, although “beautifully decorated” for the day, closed from one to four o’clock so that everyone could take part in the exercises at two o’clock. The band led the procession, with the O’Neill G.A.R. Post next in line, then many citizens, on foot and in carriages, following. There was a long pause at the courthouse where the glee club sang and several orators made speeches. At the cemetery “the graves of all departed heroes were strewn with flowers.” Little girls in white dresses were usually selected to carry the flowers to the soldiers’ graves, and most of them treasured the memories of those Decoration Days the rest of their lives.

In popularity dancing was just about on a par with baseball. Dances could be planned and advertised in advance, or held on the spur of the moment whenever and wherever a few people and a fiddle or some other musical instrument were together. The people danced in homes, schoolhouses, hay mows, new barns, empty stores or boweries built for special occasions. Fiddles most often provided the music, but in the Page area Mrs. Duran Hunt frequently had her little organ loaded into a wagon or sled and hauled to some soddy home, to which all the neighbors had been invited, for a “surprise” on someone. Dancing, singing and feasting, from baskets brought along by everybody, filled many an evening “out on the lone prairie.” Most communities boasted some outstanding dancers, both couple and singles. Catherine Wabs had been a prize waltzer during her girlhood in Germany and her neighbors of the Niobrara country came long distances to see her dance at gatherings in the isolated sod homes.

In the Bohemian community the farm folk came in their native dancing costumes. “Three or four times during an evening,” one old- timer recalled, “all others would leave the floor and these wonderful people would dance their ‘Old Coun-try’ dances. It was something to see. The ladies wore about ten petticoats and their colorful skirts bulged like balloons. The men wore tight pants and gay shirts with neckerchiefs.” Getting to and from these homemade entertainments was almost as much fun as being there, especially for the young folks. In winter when there was enough snow everybody bundled into hay-filled sleds, with plenty of robes, quilts and hot foot-stones. On moonlit nights when the prairie turned into a crystal fairyland a good, fun-loving driver could put a keen edge on the excitment by dumping all his passengers into a snowbank without hurting anybody. And then there was chautauqua, that fine old summertime entertainment. Chautauqua, founded in 1874 at Chautauqua Lake, New York, began as an adult educational program. It caught on quickly, spread throughout the United States and was highly popular in Nebraska. A week- long series of programs, it drew huge crowds from the surrounding countryside. It featured a different program every afternoon and evening. The performers were nationally prominent speakers, singers, actors and “variety” artists, most were professionals and some even came from Europe and other parts of the world.

The Chautauqua Companies, Red-path Horner and others, furnished the huge tents that sheltered the spectator crowds and the performers; each town furnished the lighting for evening shows and sold the tickets— or made up the difference out of town funds. The performers traveled from town to town, playing at one town one day and at another the next. Poor roads, rain storms and floods made travel in the early type cars hazardous and uncertain for these people. Walter Sire of the Chambers-Inman area, who worked for the Associated Chautauquas of America for two seasons as assistant superintendent, wrote that the troopers surely lived by the old axiom “The show must go on,” and somehow made it work. On one occasion, when an electric storm knocked out the power line, he stood on the stage and held a flashlight for forty-five minutes while a speaker finished his lecture. On another, a five girl troupe had an automobile Memorial Day Celebration in Page before the turn of the century. Courtesy Verna and Cordes Walker 84 Knights of Columbus Initiation March, O’Neill, 1910. accident that put three of them in the hospital. The other two put on the entire program. This was chautauqua at the grass roots and the people loved it.

For years Holt Countians drove long distances to take in Chautauqua, bringing along their tents and camping equipment and staying for the entire session. But after World War I, when better roads, cars, movies and radios changed their way of life, attendance at the summer entertainments declined. The advent of talking pictures and the Great Depression ended the traveling shows.

Keen on getting together whenever possible, the settlers enjoyed a variety of other fun and games: taffy pulls, card parties and play parties, where Spin The Platter and dancing games such as Skip To My Lou were popular. Skating parties in the winter, on mill ponds, lakes and streams, and swimming parties and fish frys in summer drew good crowds. “Fish Day” at the Lofquests up on the Niobrara meant a big time for the neighbors from miles around. They came in wagons loaded with food, kettles, ten gallon cream cans (for taking fish home), a tent, and rocking chairs and kitchen chairs for the older women. Pitching the tent in a grassy clearing, they built a campfire and set up for an eighteen- hour picnic.

While the women cooked and cared for the babies, the men and older children seined fish from the swift waters of the Niobrara. Besides all they could eat, each family took home a several days supply of finny food. “Fish Days” were held annually, just after corn planting, for several years.

The settlers enjoyed weddings, too. Minnie Alfs Martens tells of one in the O’Neill area in early times. While the bride and groom were driving into the county seat to get married, the neighbors gathered at the bride’s home to prepare dinner and supper for all. That evening a big wedding dance took place in the granary, where there was more room than in the house. Mrs. Alfs chorded on the organ, which had been moved from the house to the granary, and Mr. Alfs and Jack Gordon played violins. Two Steps, waltzs, polkas and square dances made the night hours fly. Wrestling matches were an ever popular sport for the men folks. The Frontier describes a match in O’Neill in July, 1893. O’Neill had a “gladiator,” Gus Doyle, who had “stood in the amateur ring for twenty years without a fall.” When a traveling wrestler, one Zimmerman, drifted into town, looking for a match, he found it. The rules were simple: the best two out of three falls, three points to constitute a fall.

The ring was set up west of the engine house and three hundred men surrounded it. Doyle quickly secured the first fall, but could not again get more than two points on his op-Summer Fun south of O’Neill. John Davidson in the buggy in the light hat Courtesy Edith Davidson.

ponent. After another ten minutes of hot work he offered Zimmerman a “draw,” which was immediately accepted. “Gus is a powerful man,” summarized the Frontier, “handling his two hundred pound antagonist as an ordinary man would a ten-year-old lad, but Zimmerman, being a professional, would wriggle like an eel and persist in landing wrong side up every time. When Gus got out of it on a draw and one fall in his favor, they all went wild with delight.” The pleasant memories of many Holt County people center around one building or another. The “Rink” at Atkinson was such a building. Erected by Frank Bittney in 1882 at a cost of $2,800, it served as an entertainment hall for forty-five years. Built prim- marily for roller skating, it was well patronized by old and young. Now and then someone fell and broke a bone or two, “but that didn’t stop them. As soon as they were able they tried it again.” The Rink had many other uses.

Highschool classes graduated there, ministers delivered their Memorial Horse Play. On Sunday afternoons neighbors gathered at one ranch or another to watch cowboys do a bit of rodeoin’. This scene took place on the Lee Prentis Ranch in the 1920’s. Left to right: Henry (Shorty) Banz, Hank Pierce, Clyde Hershiser, Sam Storts, unknown.

Day addresses from its stage, after which everyone went to the cemetery. On the Fourth of July the old hall was submerged in flags and bunting while from the stage rolled the imperishable words of the Declaration of Independence and parts of the Constitution. Republicans and Democrats 85 used it, each desclaiming its own virtues and disparaging those of the other party.

The Catholics held their big Fairs in the great hall. Over the years hard-working women prepared and sold tons of food to the populace. Other church groups held conventions there. It was the scene of Atkinson’s big Easter Balls, and St. Patrick’s Day, Fourth of July, Thanksgiving and Christmas dances. The firemen staged their annual New Year’s Balls there, the occasion for “many of the old- timers to get out their best clothes and celluloid collars and try to loosen up their knee joints and shake a leg.” Settlers from the Niobrara to Burwell, from Long Pine to O’Neill came and prizes were given for the best walfzs, schottisches and cake walks.

Many a local talent show took place in the Rink. Some still remember the melodious voice of Brantley Sturdevant singing “Many Brave Hearts Are Asleep In The Deep,” and the night when Willis Murphy played a difficult classical piano selection. When he had finished, the Negro, Blind Boone, came to the stage, sat down and played the same piece all the way through. Blind Boone was an enigma of his time. A sightless Negro who traveled a great scope of country with various “one night” show troupes, he was one of the rare possessors of perfect pitch, and had only to hear a tune once and, no matter how complicated, he could reproduce it perfectly. Masquerade balls reached the height of their popularity during the era of the Rink and many a fantastic costume was paraded on its floor. And for all that, the “ordinary” dress clothes of the turn of the century period seem rather fantastic. Hy A pair of Inman Nabobs, Frank Fowler and Earl Watson.

Young America— 1890. Atkinson, Nebraska. Back Row: Mike Cross, Willie Ripp, George Brown. Center Row: Herb Bitney, Tom Jennings, Jim Nightingale, Dell Fisher, and Robert Alsworth. These young men would get together each week and entertain the people of the town with songs of the days. Nightengale describes the dress of the modish young man of his day as follows: he wore “spike-toed” shoes laced with red, green, orange, or whatever color strings suited the wearer’s fancy. Socks were varicolored and barred, striped or polka- dotted.

His stylish grey trousers had lengthwise stripes, his coat was a three- button sack style or, if he went really “high-style,” a swallow-tailed affair with pockets in the tails. Vests, and all men wore vests, had four pockets and a belt in the back, to take up the slack and make them form-fitting. Shirts were striped and collarless, with a button hole at the back of the neck for a collar button. A larger collar button in front enabled the wearer to fasten on a celluloid collar. As styles changed, the fashionable young man adopted a three-inch standup striped collar and a big bow tie. A Derby hat, called a “Peccadilly,” finished off his daring outfit.

For the people who knew the old Rin * k in its hey day, the magic words “Do you remember . . . ?” instantly bring back the graduations, fairs, home talent contests, traveling shows, hypnotists, the first movies, and a thousand other events that happened under its roof.

A few unwritten rules governed some of the foregoing activities. There were no Sunday ball games and no hunting or fishing on Sundays. Most dances were held on Friday nights so there would be no temptation to dance on into Sunday morning. But if a dance was held on Saturday night, many young people were allowed to go only on the condition that they come away at midnight. No lady attended a public dance without a male escort.

Other popular amusements were medicine shows and corn shucking contests. The former rolled from town to town in gayly painted little houses on wheels, pulled by patient teams. Crowds collected wherever the wagon stopped, to watch the owner put on some kind of a show, magic et cetera, then ballyhoo his medicine, which came in fair sized bottles and would cure any and all ailments. Mostly water, alcohol and flavoring, the stuff sold surprisingly well. Probably because any average crowd represented most of the infirmities named on the bottles.

Nearly every community had a crack cornshucker, and now and then these whizzes with the husking hook got together to see which one could shuck the most bushels in a given time. Will Spindler said that his father, George, “an expert shucker in his *The old Rink was sold to Tom Salem in 1927. He moved it to Amelia, where it still stands. 86 youth, was still taking part in contests when he was past fifty, and “laying most of the other contestants in the shade.”* It would seem that every period of history has its own particular brand of intentional miscreants. Inman’s group, self-styled counterparts of today’s hippies, in 1895 organized themselves into the A.O.H. (Association of Hooligans), and rented the Opera House for an Athletic Club. They put in trapeze rings and bars and a mat for wrestling. A. N. “Ornery” Butler was president, “Whitey” Leidy vice president, Harry “Bugs” Clausen secretary and “Happy” Sprecker treasurer. Dues set them back fifty cents a month. No one was admitted to membership until he had “taken a licking” from the school principal, Professor Malone. In time, under this rule, “Bucky” Watson, “Razor” Chase, “Pistol” Goree, “Knipper” Knifer, ‘Dirty” Davis, Chuck Downey and “Stink” Gans came into the club.

Then a Mrs. Sprecker came to town and organized a Literary Society, and was astonished at the talent she found in the A.O.H. “Then came square dancing,” wrote “Bugs” Clau-sen. “Our fiddlers were Charles Fowler and Lige Babcock, our pianist Lena “Primmy” Fowler. Jim Boyle was our caller and our biggest event of the year was the cake walk Jim and Lizzie Colman put on. We developed some mighty fine waltzes, too. Then we took in “Red” McDermott, “Coon-ey” Colman, “Pie-Eyed” Green and “Uncle Della” Davis. Our gang put on some fine amateur shows and box Will Spindler, Echos from Old Nebraska, p. 4. socials. Jess “Slim” Hancock was our ’emcee’ and our theme song was Red Wing. Many of our members played on Inman’s crack ball team, too. “When Wilbur Wilson organized and directed a community band, A.O.H. members Green, Butler, Fowler and Goree played in it. The band played every week all summer in the old bandstand that stood in the middle of the street where the flag pole now stands.” From this account it would seem that the worst the “Hooligans” ever managed were the difficulties they gave their teachers to get themselves sent to the Professor to obtain the necessary “licking.” All in all, in spite of their bad intentions, they must have done their town far more good than harm.

Then, as now, card parties were a favorite form of amusement. Out north of O’Neill a group of homesteaders used to meet every Saturday night for cards. One night one of the players failed to arrive, although the others knew he had started out. Before long a storm moved in and the men became concerned for their friend. At daylight they set out to look for him, and stopped at the sod home of a widow to ask if she had seen him pass her house the evening before. She said she hadn’t.

Actually the man had gotten as far as the widow’s house and had stopped in for a bit. When the storm caught him there, he stayed for the rest of the night. Seeing his friends coming that morning he hastily crawled under the bed, hoping to save the widow any embarrassment. All would have been well— except that the search party tarried to talk over their next move and the man under the bed had to shift his leg into a more comfortable position.

As he did so he heard a hissing sound and felt a stinging sensation on his ankle. “Rattlesnake,” he shouted, scrambling out from under the bed. “I been snake bit and I don’t care who knows I’m here,” and he pulled up his pants leg to examine his bite. It turned out, however, that the widow had set a couple of hens in boxes under the bed, and one of them had ruffled up, hissed, and pecked the moving leg.

And finally there was the carnival in Ewing where G. Ezra Moor had his runaway. A big carnival had come to town and set up in a roped-off section of the business district. Ezra, a successful cattleman, had just traded some of his fine Angus steers for his first automobile. Since few people in the county had cars then he thought it would add to the celebration if he parked his horseless carriage by the ropes for all to see.

Ezra drove up to the lot in all his glory— but just as he was about to stop someone hollered at him, causing him to forget the breaking procedure. So he drove right on through the rope, and the carnival, for half a block, knocking over several sideshow tents and coming to a stop against the merry-go-round. All during his half-block runaway he was pulling back on the steering wheel with all his might and yelling “Whoa” at the top of his voice.

When the first settlers came to Holt County they found a sea of grass, stretching on for miles and miles. Although these native grasses were sparse on the uplands, the valleys and “bottoms” were heavily grassed natural hay meadows. These first inhab- atants, however, were primarily farmers and, as soon as they had provided themselves with shelter, they turned their attention to farm crops, corn, millet, rye, oats, sorghums and some wheat.

James Deming of northern Holt County described the first farming: “We plowed furrows about three inches deep and dropped corn in every fourth furrow. This was not much better than planting it on top of the ground. For cultivating we used a harrow and a ‘hop-jack.’ This was a wooden beam with plow handles on

← Chapter 9: Horse Business In Holt County | Table of Contents | Chapter 11: Plows And Cows →

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