The Palimpsest

Fredericksen, Mary K

«
Index for 1985
Adams, Bertrand, 6
Agriculture: article about the Ames corn 
mural, 14-16, 25-29; “The House on 
the Hill,” 115-128
Alexander, Archie Alphonso: photo of, 
May/June front cover, 82, 83, 84, 87, 
88, 90-92, 98. See "Alexander the 
Great, Bridge Builder,” 78-87, and 
He Opened Holes Like Mountain 
Tunnels,” 87-92, 97-100 
"Alexander the Great,’ Bridge Builder, 
by C harles E. Wynes, 78-87 
The Ames Corn Mural,” by Mary L.
Meixner, 14-16, 25-29 
Architecture, church and Gothic. See 
“Gothic Splendor in Northeast Iowa,” 
146-160, 169-173
Art. See article about the Ames corn 
mural, 14-16, 25-29
Artists. See article about Lowell Houser, 
2-13
Atkins (Iowa): growing up in, articles by 
Lenore Salvaneschi, 106-112, 216-221 
Bailey, Bert H., 46-47 
Baker, Jacob, 9
Ballinger, Richard A.: photo of, 31; 
political cartoons about, 32, 33, 
following 40. See “The Boonesboro 
Connection: Richard A Ballinger and 
Ray Lyman Wilbur, 30-40 
Barker, Olive, 143-144; photo of, 125,
143
Battle of Black River Bridge, 188-191, 
195-196, 215; map of battlefield, 190 
Battle of Pea Ridge, 187, 212 
Beineke , John A., “The Mark of Horace 
Mann on Iowa Education, 101-105; 
biog. of, following 112 
Biddle, George, 9-10 
Biology. See articles about Iowa Lakeside 
Laboratory, 42-56, 61-65, 66-68 
Birch , Brian P., Possessed of a Restless 
Spirit: A Young Girl's Memories of the 
Southern Iowa Frontier,” 174-184; 
biog. of following 184 
Bissell, F.E., 101
Bloomer, Dexter C., 196, 209, 210 
Boeding, Rev. Francis X., 155, 158 
“The Boonesboro Connection: Richard A. 
Ballinger and Ray Lyman Wilbur,” by 
T homas Tanner, 30-40 
Boulder Canyon Project, 36-37
Brandéis, Louis, 32-33 
Brinkmann, Rev. Joseph, 147 
Bruce, Edward, 10, 11 
Burroughs, Carl, 137-138 
Calvin, Samuel, 43-46, 49, 50; photo of 
42
Chariot, Jean, 5, 6, 7 
Chautauqua. See M iss Paul’ Hits the 
Glittering Chautauqua Trail,” 129-142 
Chichen-Itza (Mexico), 2, 4-7, 15-16, 26 
Church architecture. See “Gothic
Splendor in Northeast Iowa,” 146-160, 
169-173
Civil War. See articles about William H.
Kinsman, 186-193, 194-215 
Civil Works Administration, 9, 10 
Colleges and universities: early football at 
S.U.I., 79, 87-92, 97-100; Iowa 
Lakeside Laboratory, 42-56, 61-65, 
66-68
Colorado gold rush (1858-1859): 195,
199-203; map of route to, from Council 
Bluffs, 200-201
Co n e , Carl B., Those Wonderful Iowa 
Firehorses,” 69-76; biog. of following 
76
Council Bluffs (Iowa): 192-193, 196-200, 
203-204, 206
Council Bluffs Nonpareil, 187, 195, 
196-213, 215
Darling, J. N. “Ding”: political cartoons 
by, 32, 33, following 40 
Dean, Amos, 101-105; sketch of 103 
Dodge, Augustus Caesar, 203-204 
Dodge, Grenville M., 187-188, 191-193, 
196, 210, 213; photo of 189, 192 
Domeyer, Peter, 150 
Education. See “The Mark of Horace 
Mann on Iowa Education,” 101-105, 
"Miss Paul Hits the Glittering 
Chautauqua Trail, ” 129-142, and 
“School Davs,” 106-112 
Education, higher: early football at 
S.U.I., 79, 87-92, 97-100; Iowa 
Lakeside Laboratory, 42-56, 61-65, 
66-68
Eisenhower, Dwight D., 81-82, 86 
Entertainment. See Chautauqua and 
sports
Ethnicity: and church architecture, 
146-160, 169-173; and settlement of 
Iowa, 174-184
Farm life. See “The House on the Hill,” 
115-128
Federal Emergency Relief 
Administration, 8-10 
Federman, Rev. Henry, 160 
Firehorse racing, article about, 69-76 
“Five Generations,” by W ilma Lewis , 
143-144
Floete, F.G., 55-56, 61, 64 
Football: article about, 87-92, 97-100;
rules and changes, 1909, 87-88 
Fourth Iowa Volunteer Infantry 
Regiment, 187, 195, 210-213 
“Fuel,” by Lenore Salvaneschi,
216-221
Garfield, James, 31 
Glavis, Louis, 31-34 
Goerdt, Theodore, 147 
Gold rush, Colorado (1858-1859): 195, 
199-203; map of route to, from Council 
Bluffs, 200-201
“Gothic Splendor in Northeast Iowa,” by 
Loras C. Otting, 146-160, 169-173 
Grand Army of the Republic, 192-193 
Griffith, John G., 89, 90. 97-98 
Gross, Raymond, 97-100 
Hawke, Charlotte, 174-184 
Hawke, Hannah: article about her 
memories of the southern Iowa 
frontier, 174-184 
Hawke, Robert, 174-184 
Hawley, Jess, 89, 100 
“He Opened Holes Like Mountain 
Tunnels,” by Raymond A. Smith ,
J r., 87-92, 97-100 
Heer, Rev. George W, 147 
Hennessy, Bp. John J., 147 
Higbee, George F, 79 
Holiday celebrations, 126-128 
Holy Trinity Catholic Church 
(Luxemburg), 151-152, 170, 173 
Hopkins, Harry, 7-9 
Hoover, Herbert C., 36; photo of 38 
Hoover Dam, 36-37, 40 
Horse racing, article about firehorse 
racing, 69-76
The House on the Hill, by W ilma 
Lewis, 115-128
Household chores. See “Fuel,” 216-221, 
and “The House on the Hill, 115-128 
Houser, Lowell: photo of 3, 8, 9, 12. See 
“Lowell Houser and the Genesis of a
9 a
The Palimpsest 223
Mural, 2-13, and The Ames Corn 
Mural,” 14-16. 25-29 
Humeston (Iowa). See Five
Generations,’ 143-144. and The 
House on the Hill,” 115-128 
Iowa City (Iowa): early football at S.U.I., 
87-92, 97-100
Iowa Lakeside Laboratory: photo of 42, 
44, 46, 47, 48, 49, 50, 51, 52, 54, 55, 
56, 62, 63, 65. See ‘Thomas 
Macbrides Dream: Iowa Lakeside 
Laboratory,” 42-56, 61-65, and “The 
Okoboji Lakeside Laboratory,” 66-68 
Jackson, Everett Gee, 2, 4, 13
Johnson, Kirk M.: illustrations bv, 186, 
194-195
Jones, C. Durant, 139 
Jones Chautauqua System, 138-140 
Kay, George F., 46; photo of 62 
Keyes, Charles R.: photo of 62 
Kinsman, William H.: photo or
illustration of November/December 
cover, 86, 211. See 'Tell the Boys I Die 
Happy, 186-193, and Yours, in haste, 
W. H. Kinsman,” 194-215 
Kinsman monument, 192-193; photo of 
following 224
Kirkwood, Samuel J., 188, 196, 203-206, 
209-210, 212, 213, 214; photo of 205 
Kortenkamp, Rev. Anton, 147 
Kramolis, Rev. Bohumil, 158 
Kreutner, Willie: photo of 109 
Krug, Gerhardt: photo of 109 
Leland Powers School of the Spoken 
Word, 133-135, 137
Lewis, Walter C.: photo of 117, 127. See 
“The House on the Hill,” 115-128 
Lewis, W ilma, Five Generations,
143-144; biog. of following 144, photo 
of 143
Lewis, W ilma, The House on the 
Hill. 115-128; biog. of following 144; 
photo of 117, 122, 125, 127 
Loras, Bp. Mathias, 149, 151, 160 
Lowell Houser and the Genesis of a 
Mural,” by Mary L. Meixner, 2-13 
Macbride, Thomas H., “The Okoboji 
Lakeside Laboratory,” 66-68; photo of 
March/April front cover, 43, 52, 66.
^ee Thomas Macbrides Dream: Iowa 
Lakeside Laboratory,” 42-56, 61-65 
McConnell, Joseph J., 46 
McCowen, Jennie, 114
McGhee, Jiles and Minta, 116-121; photo 
of 119
McGinnis, Rev. Peter, 152 
Main, Elaine Carol. “ Miss Paul’ Hits 
the Glittering Chautauqua Trail,”
129-142; biog. of following 144 
Mann, Horace, 101-105; photo of 102 
The Mark of Horace Mann on Iowa 
Education, by John A. Beineke , 
101-105
Martin, George W., 54-55 
Mayan architecture, art. See “Lowell 
Houser and the Genesis of a Mural. 
2-13, and “The Ames Corn Mural,” 
14-16, 25-29
Maynard, William W, 195, 196, 207, 209, 
213
Mean, El wood: photo of 35 
Meixner, Mary L., “The Ames Corn 
Mural,” 14-16, 25-29; biog. of 
following 40
Meixner, Mary L., “Lowell Houser and 
the Genesis of a Mural,” 2-13; biog. of 
following 40
Mexican mural movement, 2, 9-10 
Migration. See "Possessed of a Restless 
Spirit: A Young Girl s Memories of the 
Southern Iowa Frontier, 174-184 
Mikota, Rev. Francis, 160, 169, 170 
Miller, Joseph, 150 
Miss Paul’ Hits the Glittering 
Chautauqua Trail,” by E laine Carol 
Main, 129-142 
Morley, Sylvanus G., 4, 5, 6 
Morris, Ann Axtell, 4, 5, 6, 7 
Morris, Earl, 4, 6, 12 
Myerly, J.C., 55, 61
Natural history. See articles about Iowa 
Lakeside Laboratory, 42-56, 61-65, 
66-68
Oberbroekling, Rev. Frederick William, 
151
“The Okoboji Lakeside Laboratory, by 
Thomas H. Macbride, 66-68
Ottinc, Loras C., “Gothic Splendor in 
Northeast Iowa,” 146-160, 169-173; 
biog. of following 184 
Pammel, Louis H.: photo of 62 
Paul, Margaret D.: photo of 128, 130, 131, 
133, 141. See " Miss Paul Hits the 
Glittering Chautauqua Trail, 129-142 
Penick, James, Jr., 31, 34 
Peterson, Richard W., “Tell the Boys I 
Die Happy,” 186-193; biog. of 
following 224 
Pinchot, Gifford, 31-34 
Possessed of a Restless Spirit: A Young 
Girl’s Memories of the Southern Iowa 
Frontier,” by Brian P Birch, 174-184 
Powders, Leland, 132-134, 137 
Public Works of Art Project, 9-11 
Reilly, Rev. J.F., 152 
Repass, Maurice A., 80
Riekels, Mrs. G.: photo of 220 
Rickels, Rev. G.: photo of 218 
Riekels, Robert: photo of 110, 221 
Rickels, Ruth: photo of 219 
Riehman, Lenore, 135-136 
Roosevelt, Franklin D., 8-10 
Rowan, Edward, 11-12, 27 
Rural life. See The House on the Hill,” 
115-128
St. Boniface Catholic Church (New 
Vienna), 147, 149-150, 170, 173; photo 
of 146, 150, 151, 153 
St. Francis Xavier Basilica (Dversville), 
146-147, 170, 173; photo of 148, 149 
St. John Nepomucene Catholic Church 
(Fort Atkinson), 156, 158-159, 170, 173; 
photo of 171
St. Joseph’s Catholic Church (Elkader), 
152, 170, 173; photo of 159 
St. Luke’s Catholic Church (St. Lucas), 
152, 155, 170, 173; photo of 160, 169 
St. Mary’s Catholic Church (Guttenberg), 
152, 170, 173; photo of 158 
St. Wenceslaus Catholic Church 
(Spillville), 159-160. 169-170, 173; 
photo of follow ing 184 
SS. Peter and Paul Catholic Church 
(Petersburg), 150-151, 170, 173; photo 
of September/October covers, 1.54,
155, 156, 157, 172
Salvaneschi, Lenore , “Fuel,” 216-221; 
biog. of following 224, photo of 218, 
219, 221
Salvaneschi, Lenore , “School Days,” 
106-112; biog. of following 112; photo 
of 111
Sassen, Rev. William, 151 
Schindler, George, 147 
“School Days,” by Lenore 
Salvaneschi, 106-112 
Schultz, Franz, 147 
Section of Painting and Sculpture, 11 
Settlement. See Possessed of a Restless 
Spirit: A Young Girl’s Memories of the 
Southern Iowa Frontier, 174-184 
Shiinek, Bohumil, 44-46, 49, 50-52, 56, 
61-65; photo of 61, 62 
Sluka, Joseph, 158
Smith, Raymond A., J r ., “He Opened 
Holes Like Mountain Tunnels,” 87-92, 
97-100; biog. of following 112 
Smith, Raymond A., J r., “Yours, in 
haste, W.H. Kinsman,” 194-215; biog. 
of following 224 
Spielman, Joseph, 159-160, 169 
Sports: firehorse racing, 69-76; football,
79, 87-92. 97-100 
Stephens, T.C.: photo of 62
224 The Palimpsest
Stoeckl, Joseph, 147 
Stone, Asalee, 143-144; photo of 143 
Straight, Joseph A., 189, 191-193 
Stromsten, Mrs. Frank A., 56 
Strömsvik, Gustav, 7 
Swing, Philip D.: photo o£ 35 
Taft, William Howard, 31-34 
Tanner, T homas, “The Boonesboro 
Connection: Richard A. Ballinger and 
Ray Lyman Wilbur,’ 30-40; biog. o£ 
following 40
“Tell the Boys I Die Happy,” by Richard 
W. Peterson , 186-193 
Temple of Chac Mool, 6 
Temple of the Warriors, 4, 5, 6 
“Thomas Macbride’s Dream: Iowa 
Lakeside Laboratory, by D ebby J. 
Z ieglowsky, 42-56, 61-65
“Those Wonderful Iowa Firehorses,” by 
C arl B Co n e , 69-76 
Treasury. Section of Fine Arts, 11 
Truitt, Jesse, 192-193 
Twenty-third Iowa Volunteer Infantry 
Regiment, 187, 188, 191-193, 195, 
213-215
"Two Iowa Women,” 114 
Urban, Rev. Anthony, 160 
Vawter, Keith, 132, 140 
Virgin Islands: Archie A. Alexander as 
governor of 81-86 
Votava, John, 156, 158 
Vrba, Rev. Francis, 158 
Watson, Forbes, 10 
Weeks, Carl, 11
Wilbur, Curtis: photo and biog. sketch of 
39
Wilbur, Ray Lyman: photo of 35, 37, 38. 
See “The Boonesboro Connection: 
Richard A. Ballinger and Ray Lyman 
Wilbur,” 30-40
Wood, Grant, 2, 6, 10-11, 12, 13 
Works Progress Administration, 11 
Wylie, Robert B., 46, 53-54; photo of 42 
Wynes, C harles E., “ Alexander the 
Great, Bridge Builder,” 78-86; biog. 
of following 112
“Yours, in haste, W.H. Kinsman, by 
Raymond A. Smith , Jr., 194-215 
Z ieglowsky, D ebby J., “Thomas 
Macbride’s Dream: Iowa Lakeside 
Laboratory,” 42-56, 61-65; biog. of 
following 76
Zoology. See articles about Iowa Lakeside 
Laboratory, 42-56, 61-65, 66-68


English

Index for 1985

Smith, Jr, Raymond A

Yours, in haste, W.H. Kinsman

Birch, Brian Patricia

Possessed of a Restless Spirit: A Young Girl's Memories of the Southern Iowa Frontier

Two Iowa Women
In an article published in the Annals of Iowa in October 1884, Dr. Jennie 
McCowen, of Davenport, Iowa, analyzing the Iowa census of 1880, found that 
over 80,000 Iowa women were working somewhere outside the cozy confines 
of their homes. She found women employed (or at least enumerated in the 
census as employed) as boilermakers, miners, pork-packers, blacksmiths, 
commercial travelers, stenographers, librarians, and teachers, as well as physi­
cians, pharmacists, and lawyers. I have mentioned only a small portion of the 
job classifications cited in her article, but I have done so to offer evidence of the 
changing status of women in this state as early as the 1880s.
In Iowa, as elsewhere in the United States, the 1880s and 1890s were 
decades in which the impact of urbanization and industrialization upon women 
in society was being most seriously felt. As machinery limited the traditional 
“fireside employments” of women, it was, as Dr. McCowen pointed out, 
“inevitable that women would adapt themselves to the changed circum­
stances, and . . . seek some outside occupation by which they might not only 
support themselves, but, also, if need be, provide for the necessities and 
comforts of those depending upon them.
All too often, in considering the place of women in early twentieth-century 
society, historians have been too much taken with the heady and very impor­
tant issues of woman suffrage and prohibition. Those issues were indeed noisy 
ones upon which gallons of impassioned ink were spilt. But continued empha­
sis on such problems has tended to draw attention from the place of women in 
society and from the career opportunities open to them at that time. Urbaniza­
tion continued well into the twentieth century and the movement of young 
people, women and men alike, to the cities was a continuing phenomenon. As 
industrialization continued apace, even further changes occurred in the home, 
the marketplace, and the industrial workplace which altered the terms of life 
for Iowa women.
1 he complexity of the scene in the second decade of the twentieth century is 
apparent in the lives partially documented in the two articles appearing in this 
issue of the Palimpsest. Mrs. Wilma Lewis, early in her life, made the decision 
to move from city to country, a career choice which cannot have been that 
uncommon in a still basically agricultural society. Miss Margaret D. Paul, on 
the other hand, after pursuing a high school and college education, went on to 
further academic work in elocution and then made a decision to become a 
professional speaker or elocutionist on the Chautauqua circuit. Subsequently, 
she put her experience to good use in a career in education in Gary, Indiana.
All too often when we reflect on the days of our grandparents youth, we are 
tempted to think of women as either homemakers or teachers. We should 
remind ourselves occasionally that all women in the first decades of the 
twentieth century were not homemakers or teachers. We need to remind 
ourselves also that those who were homemakers or teachers had often become 
so in very determined fashion. Perhaps we should remember that the deter­
mination ol women to live a life of their choice is an age-old trait in Iowa as 
elsewhere in this republic. It was certainly in evidence in the lives of Mrs. 
Wilma Lewis and Miss Margaret D. Paul.—Editor


Two Iowa Women

The Palimpsest, vol.66 no.4, July-August 1985

Beineke, John A

The Mark of Horace Mann on Iowa Education
by John A. Beineke
The quality of the public and private educa­tional institutions in the state of Iowa 
enjoys a highly regarded national reputation. 
The roots of this tradition can he traced to two 
prominent Easterners. One was a man whose 
influence was so notable that he has been given 
the designation “Father of American Educa­
tion — Horace Mann of Massachusetts. The 
other figure to give direction to early Iowa 
schools was a New Yorker, Amos Dean, who 
also served as the first president of the State
Universitv of Iowa.¥
In 1856 these two men were appointed by 
the Iowa General Assembly to serve as com­
missioners with the assignment of rendering 
suggestions for the revision of the state school 
laws. A third man, Judge F.E. Bissell of Dubu­
que, Iowa, was unable to serve. Therefore the 
nine-page report, submitted by Mann and
Dean, lacked what thev termed the “local*
knowledge so essential to all just and wise legis­
lation. Although they wrote their report from 
a perspective outside the Iowa experience, the
authors were certainly not strangers to educa­
tion.
Horace Mann (1796-1859) was the brilliant 
attorney and legislator who had relinquished a 
promising career in politics to become the first 
secretary to the state board of education in 
Massachusetts. The position had all the ear­
marks of a step into obscurity. But for twelve 
years, beginning in 1837, Mann led a bold 
crusade on behalf of the state s public schools.
Taking to horseback, Mann sought to con­
vince the parents, citizens, and taxpayers of his
® l°wa State Historical Department/Office of the State Histor­
ical Society 1985 0031 — 0360/85/0506 — 0101 $1.00
state that the older and informal modes of 
learning were no longer adequate. His 
reforms, documented in his Annual Reports 
between 1838 and 1849, called for numerous 
changes. They included proposals for teacher 
seminaries, improved school buildings, more 
taxation to support education, and better text­
books for the classroom.
At the time he coauthored the Iowa report, 
Mann was serving as the first president of Anti­
och College in Yellow Springs, Ohio. While in 
Ohio, he traveled to both Illinois and Indiana 
and vacationed on occasion in Michigan. It is 
doubtful, however, that he ever ventured as far 
west as Iowa.
Mann’s colaborer, Amos Dean (1803-1868), 
had visited Iowa twice in connection with his 
position as chancellor (president) of the State 
University of Iowa. As a youth, Dean had been 
a village schoolmaster in Vermont before going 
on to college and a career as an attorney. His 
educational experiences included both the 
teaching of law and the writing of several vol­
umes of history. Dean spent the summer of 
1858 in Iowa during which time he and the 
board of trustees decided that the university 
should close for a year due to financial prob­
lems. In 1860 he resigned. This was due, in 
part, to the concern of some Iowans over a part- 
time president for their university.
Iowa schools in the 1850s, which Mann and Dean sought to improve, were indeed in an 
underdeveloped stage. The first Iowa ter­
ritorial school law in 1839 authorized countv
J
school districts. But four years later John 
Chambers, governor of Iowa Territory, unhap-
102 The Palimpsest
pily reported how “little interest the important 
subject of education excites among us/
From statehood in 1846 to the constitution of 
1857 the legislature took some note of educa­
tion, but did little to advance it. Only a few 
schools during the pioneer era in Iowa were 
graded. At best, schools met intermittently 
throughout the year. The minimum legal 
school year was twenty-four weeks. Local offi­
cials were allowed to extend that period if 
finances permitted.
A combination of home instruction and the 
one-room schoolhouse was the norm for much 
of Iowa. A cadre of teachers was formed from 
local preachers and young men and women 
from New England who journeyed west to 
teach on the frontier. A few private academies, 
usually associated with religious or ethnic 
groups, also made positive contributions to
Iowa educational needs. Bv the mid- 1850s the
*
towns of Tipton and Muscatine claimed schools 
offering instruction beyond the eighth grade. A 
few private colleges had begun to appear by 
that time also.
But an increase in Iowa’s population, from 
192,214 in 1850 to 674,913 by the end of the 
decade, made alterations in the state’s educa­
tional system necessary. An examination of the 
state’s schools was an obvious first step in such 
a process. It was Iowa’s good fortune to secure 
for this task the knowledge and counsel of the 
nation’s foremost educational reformer — 
Horace Mann.
In the 1856 report of their findings, officially titled the Report of the Commissioners of 
Revision of the School Laws, Mann and Dean 
judiciously refrained from enumerating spe­
cific criticisms of Iowa’s schools. In one sen­
tence, though, they made the obvious 
comment that the state’s school laws were frag­
mentary in character, lacking in general aims, 
and “entirely wanting in unity or com­
pleteness.’ They then commenced the Report 
on a positive note concerning Iowa’s potential:
Here, for the first time, a great State, 
situated in the centre o f a mighty Union, 
possessing exhaustless resources of agri­
cultural and mineral wealth, binding 
together its various parts by a net-work of 
iron, demands a system of public instruc­
tion adequate to the full development of 
its great physical resources, and of the 
intellect and moral power oj its people.
With this preface, Mann and Dean pre­
sented four underlying principles that had 
served as standards and had guided them in 
their work:
I. Every Iowa youth was entitled to an 
education. The state would be the ulti­
mate beneficiary o f such training.
T h e  Pa l im p s e s t  103
>
• i j  • . . \ \
lit2. >••.»**«
J j .  ' ■*« V'- • » 3
.1 \ \ 'V\\\'TO
Amos Dean.
2. For education to be successful, it had 
to be considered a “distinct and sepa­
rate pursuit and business. Therefore 
school laws and educational agencies 
should be established.
3. That adequate funding had to be pro­
vided for education since property and 
material wealth “owes its existence to 
the mind.
4. Three elements were necessary to per­
fect a system of education: the organiz­
ing, the financial, and the educational.
Although coauthored, there were portions of 
the Report that could easily he traced to either 
Mann or Dean. Amos Dean, for example, sug­
gested that financial support for Iowa schools 
he patterned on the property tax system of his
native New York. Teacher training institutes, 
one of Mann’s successful innovations in Mas­
sachusetts, received special note and attention 
from him. In fact, both states were pointed to 
as stellar examples:
Your commissioners could not deem the 
educational system of any state complete 
without a liberal provision for Teachers, 
Institutes. This feature gives to the sys­
tems of Massachusetts and New York a 
decided superiority over those o f other 
States, and from its highly beneficial 
effects as there displayed, every new State 
should be admonished of the propriety, 
nay, necessity of its adoption.
Another idea from the East Coast stressed in 
the Report was the establishment of high 
schools. These schools were referred to as 
“high, Academic, or Polytechnic. ” It was sug­
gested that a high school be established in an 
Iowa county as soon as its population reached 
20,000.
One of the largest segments of the Report 
was devoted to patterns of school organization. 
The authors’ basic intention was to shift from a 
local or district school unit to something larger 
based on the township. They reasoned that 
such reorganization would require fewer 
school boards, create equalization of commu­
nity support for facilities, and lead to larger 
schools. Instructional motives for enlarging 
district boundaries included the potential for 
more graded levels and also the possibility of 
attracting better teachers.
To oversee the townships the commissioners 
suggested that the position of county superin­
tendent be created. Endowed with numerous 
duties, these powerful officers were deemed 
important components in the whole new 
scheme of school organization. It was even sug­
gested that the larger the county, the greater 
the financial remuneration for the superinten­
dent. A state superintendent of public instruc-
104 T h e  Pa l im p s e s t
tion was to be at the apex of the organizational 
pyramid with the understanding, however, 
that the actual authority for school supervision 
would reside with the county superintendents.
Mann and Dean made their strongest appeal 
on behalf of higher teacher salaries. They 
believed excellence in teaching was directly 
related to the level of compensation provided 
by the community. In no uncertain terms they 
stated their case:
No common school system can ever suc­
ceed, where the compensation is so mea­
gre as to encourage only those o f the most 
ordinary talents and attainm ents to 
embark in it. Although the teacher should 
have higher aims and objects than mere 
pecuniary recompense, yet it must be 
obvious that the grade o f compensation is 
not only important as furnishing a means 
of living, but also as indicating the high or 
low estimate which a community places 
upon the character o f the service.
An active and participatory role in the 
schools by those in control of the schools was 
also deemed essential. The “visitorial power 
was strongly endorsed not only as a way to 
expose and detect problems, but to provide an 
“approving smile when outstanding educa­
tional achievements were evident. Annual 
meetings involving several school districts at 
which directors might compare experiences 
were also encouraged.
Mann and Dean concluded the Report with 
an emotional flourish:
They desire to send into every family of 
Iowa, now, and through all future time, a 
spirit-stirring impulse, an animating 
principle, which shall penetrate the 
depths of every young heart, and arouse 
the latent energies of every young spirit, 
and thus carry forward the common 
school system into the fullest and com-
pletest realization of its glorious mission. 
They submit that the young State oj Iowa 
owes it to herself, after having rejected 
the clog o f human servitude, and ban­
ished the evils of intemperance, to adopt 
such an educational system as will devel- 
ope in harmonious proportions, and push 
to their extremest limits, both the intellect 
and the moral power o f each coming gen­
eration.
And as if to convey their own commitment to 
the task that Iowans would undertake, they 
closed by saying,
Your Commissioners now feel that their 
task is ended. In the spirit of their recom­
mendation to enlist in this great cause the 
unpaid services o f others, they beg to pre­
sent this result of their labors free of all 
charge, except for necessary expenses. It 
only remains for them to await, with no 
small solicitude, that legislative action 
upon which, in their judgment, hang such 
important consequences for the future.
While not all issues of educational impor­
tance were included in the Report, it is of 
interest to note which topics were left unmen­
tioned. Although Mann and Dean commented 
on moral, ethical, and social issues such as 
slavery, temperance, and the perfectability of 
man, they did not take up such questions as the 
role of private schools or the place of religion in 
the educational system. The phrase “education 
of young men appeared, but no similar refer­
ence to females was ever made. Agriculture, an 
essential aspect of Iowa society, received only 
scant attention.
Nor did the authors of the Report refer to the 
subject of phrenology. Phrenology' was a nine­
teenth century psycho-phvsiological phe­
nomenon that attempted to explain human 
behavior and mental development by measur­
ing various parts of the cranium. Horace Mann
T h e  Pa l im p s e s t  105
and Amos Dean were both devoted adherents 
of phrenology, but neither the study of the 
humps and knobs on the head of mankind, nor 
the use of such a science in education — or any 
other specific educational method — found its 
way into the Report.
The impact of the Report on subsequent school legislation is difficult to assess. 
Mann’s proposal for teacher training was given 
serious consideration by the Iowa General 
Assembly, but no positive action was taken. 
Preparation for a career in teaching continued 
to be undertaken in the state’s private colleges 
and academies. Within a decade after the Civil 
War, however, the General Assembly made a 
commitment to a state teacher training institu­
tion. Located near Cedar Falls and opened in 
1876, it was first known as the Iowa State Nor­
mal School and later as the Iowa State Teachers 
College. Today it is the University of Northern 
Iowa.
Other suggestions in the Report were 
adopted in due time. The constitution of 1857 
did create a state board of education which 
functioned well, although briefly, until it was 
abolished in 1864. The'commissioners'concept 
of a county superintendent found its way into 
law and remained a part of the Iowa education 
system well into the twentieth centurv.
But the consolidation of school districts, as 
envisioned by Mann and Dean, was to be a 
slow and protracted process. For years the one- 
r°om schoolhouse remained the norm except
in larger cities and towns. Yet, in 1870, Iowa 
had the lowest rate of illiteracv in the nation.y
At such a distance in time it is difficult to 
identify the direct impact of the 1856 docu­
ment. Certain changes, as noted, did take 
place. But the most significant feature of the 
report may have been the simple fact that Iowa 
sought out the nation’s foremost educator for 
advice, counsel, and direction when it became 
apparent that the state’s educational patterns 
had to be altered. The choice of Horace Mann 
demonstrated clearly the high priority Iowans 
placed on their schools.
Horace Mann died in 1859, three vears after 
the completion of the Report. A month before 
his death he gave his final commencement 
address at Antioch College. In that speech he 
issued his famous challenge to the students, 
“Be ashamed to die until you have won some 
victory for humanity. ” This was his charge to all 
Americans. His zeal touched Iowa education 
almost at the outset and its citizens have con­
tinued to cherish that legacy. □
Note on Sources
The most important source for the preparation of this 
article was the 1856 Report o f the Commissioners of 
Revision of the School Laws. Two issues of the Palimpsest 
dating from the early 1930s provided information about 
pre-Civil War Iowa schools. The biographical information 
on Horace Mann was drawn from a chapter in the author’s 
manuscript about famous educators, currently in prog­
ress. Material about Amos Dean was drawn, in part, from 
an Iowa Historical Record article published in 1895. Sev­
eral general Iowa histories were used to sketch out the 
educational setting in Iowa’s pioneer school era.


The Mark of Horace Mann on Iowa Education

Salvaneschi, Lenore

by Lenore Salvaneschi
Shoveling out the driveway from the old schoolhouse to the garage during the snowy winter of 1936. (G. 
Rickets Collection, SHS1)
It didn’t seem possible, but just as the bobsled came into view, it vanished. Strug­
gling in the drifting snow, the horses stumbled, 
the sleigh turned over, and the precious load of 
coal vanished into the snowbank.
Anxiously we watched as the men reap­
peared above the snow. To have this happen, 
only an eighth of a mile from home! Guiding 
themselves by the tips of the fence posts, the 
men plunged through the blizzard to our house 
to warm themselves, and to get fresh mittens 
and scarves which had been warmed on the 
oven door of the kitchen range. Frantically, in 
that — 8° temperature, with the snow whipping 
into their faces, my father and a neighbor man­
aged to scoop half the load out of the snow. As 
soon as the neighbor had delivered this load to 
his house up the hill, he hitched up a new team 
of horses and set out again for the lumberyard,
© Iowa State Historical Department/OfTice of the State Histor­
ical Society 1985 0031—0360/85/1112—0216 $1.00
a mile and a half away. Loading another ton of 
coal, he brought half to the teacher’s family and 
half to our house. By then both men and horses 
were exhausted, but the coal had to be brought 
in out of the snow. Just before the blizzard 
obscured the sun altogether, my father and 
brother managed to throw the wet lumps of 
coal into our basement and help the neighbor 
get the other half of the morning’s load out of 
the snowbank, into the sled. The temperature 
dropped to — 19°, the blizzard continued 
through the night and closed the roads again, 
but for a few hours there was a sense of respite 
in our house.
It was not that my father had been improvi­
dent in that severe winter of 1935-36. A man 
who thought it prudent to allow himself an 
extra half-hour “for a flat tire,” no matter the 
length of the distance he intended to drive or 
how carefully he had just checked the tires, 
would hardly have failed to provide enough
The Palimpsest 217
fuel for the season. As a matter of fact, his 
records showed that on September 4, 1935, lie 
had “laid down” four tons of Indiana coal at $7 a 
ton; then on December 18, had spent $23.62 
for another load of coal. If this was again Indi­
ana coal, presumably he bought about three 
tons; if Kentucky coal, it might have been only 
two. Adding the one-half ton of that blizzardy 
January / in 1936, and two more tons for which 
he paid $21.38 on March 2, he would have 
purchased at least eight and one-half tons for 
the winter season, and spent around $80 for 
coal alone. On a salary of barely $1,500 a year, 
this was a sizable sum.
From the entries of my father s diarv, the* j *
winter of 1935-36 was unexpectedly and 
crazily severe. One blizzard after another 
closed the roads. From December 14, 1935, 
until February 18, 1936, his entries listed 
thirty-four days of snow, much of it in the form 
of driving blizzards. From January 20, 1936, 
until March 4, there were twenty-eight days of 
temperatures below zero, sometimes descend­
north of the parsonage, by means of a pair of 
worses, a wagon, and sleds. (G. Rickels Collection,
SHSI)
ing as low as — 25°. The roads south and north 
of us were closed to all traffic, except pedes­
trian and sled, from January 20 until February 
23, the first warm day in 1936. At noon of that 
day, the temperature rose to 40°, and the snow­
plow almost made it through the one and one- 
half miles from our little town. One-fourth mile 
north of our house the plow broke down, but 
thirty-seven men spent the rest of the after­
noon clearing that last segment. By evening, 
the road was open to the village. On March 4, 
the snowplow came through the mile from the 
south, and once again we had access to the old 
Lincoln Highway and to our “metropolis, 
Cedar Rapids.
Not only was the weather a factor in nearly defeating my father that winter. The par­
sonage was old and very difficult to heat. Often, 
his diary had the terse statements, “can t get 
the house warm, “got up at one—at three [and 
almost invariably at five] to look at the fur­
nace, “banked the foundation [of the house] 
with snow, “the wind takes all the heat out. 
The main source of “centralized heating” in the 
parsonage was a coal furnace in the basement. 
The only source of coal was the lumberyard a 
mile and a half away, to which consignments of 
Indiana soft or Kentucky hard were always spo­
radic, if not erratic.
We were never wasteful of fuel in that house. 
In those days, conservation of energy was not a 
government program but a family necessity. 
Upstairs, only the bathroom received a 
modicum of heat early in the morning and 
again at bedtime. Our beds were provided with 
Amana blankets and homemade woolen quilts, 
and with a featherbed kept for the grand­
mother and the youngest child. Downstairs, 
the kitchen was the warmest place in the house 
because the cookstove was kept going through­
out the day. The basement furnace had to sup­
ply heat to only three rooms. In normal times, 
this could often be reduced to two, but in the 
winter of 1935-36 my mother became an
218 Tiie Palimpsest
A familiar mid-October scene at St. Stephens Lutheran Church in Atkins: chopping wood for winter. The 
Reverend G. Rickels and daughter, Lenore, by the woodpile at the parsonage in 1921. (G. Rickels 
Collection, SHSI)
invalid and the davenport in the parlor was 
made into her bed.
That winter the whole family often carried 
mattresses down the stairs and made beds on 
the dining room or study floors. Sleeping 
upstairs was both too cold and too dangerous 
when the winds were too strong to keep a very 
hot fire in the furnace. Our chimney tended to 
respond by “blowing out periodically, show­
ering the wooden shingles of the rather steeply 
pitched roof with a dangerous amount of sparks 
and tinder. One Christmas Eve, in fact, our 
family had returned from the children s service 
in the nearby church to find the attic crawling 
with young men from the congregation who 
were putting out a chimney fire. It must be 
confessed that so long as our precious 
Weinachtsbaum was safe in the parlor, my 
brother and I thought our Christmas celebra­
tion considerablv enhanced by the excitement.y *
Fuel, the lack of it and the danger of it, were lessons learned in childhood and never 
really forgotten, no matter how comfortable 
the homes I have lived in since. Retelling the 
incident of the coal sled that overturned in the 
snow brings back the images of wheelbarrow, 
cob basket, and coal bucket. All these were 
associated with my father’s never-ending con­
cern to keep his family warm, and with his 
children’s equally never-ending chore of keep­
ing those receptacles filled.
Every fall, before the colored maple and oak 
leaves had fallen, Father would have con­
tracted with a family in Iowa County, near the 
Amana Colonies, to have several loads of wood 
brought to our house. The wood was dumped 
unceremoniously beside the old schoolhouse.
The Palimpsest 219
Literally, it was the old schoolhouse of the 
congregation, converted into a garage and sev­
eral storage rooms for both summer and winter 
fuel for the parsonage.
The image of the wheelbarrow is always asso­
ciated with that woodpile. My father’s child­
hood in the Maquoketa timber had taught him 
how to split chunks of wood into perfect fire­
wood. As he did it, with a carefully honed axe, 
the job was both a practical and aesthetic exer­
cise. No golf professional ever coached a pupil 
with a better eye to perfect control in stance 
and swing than my father did in teaching my 
brother and me to chop wood. Moreover, in 
the art of splitting wood there was no sexual 
discrimination in our house. Nor was there any 
discrimination in the work of carrying the fire­
wood indoors. My brother and I loaded the 
stuff, armload by armload, from the pyramids 
of kindling into the wheelbarrow, hauled it to 
the old schoolhouse, and unloaded it into the 
bin. This was the reservoir from which we had 
to replenish, again armload by armload, the 
stack of dried kindling in the house. Just carry­
ing the wood into the basement, piling it up 
there, and carrying it up again to the kitchen 
could have provided plenty of demands for an 
allowance, had such a thing not been abhorrent 
to my father. Given to understand that such 
work was all part of honoring the Fourth Com­
mandment, my brother and I could only harbor 
our protests in silence.
In addition to having enough coal or wood on 
hand, there was the matter of providing corn-
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Mother was a stickler for drying clothes outside, whether the sun shone or not. ’ Ruth and Lenore Rickels 
long out the laundry on a cold day in mid-March 1923. (G. Rickels Collection, SHS1)
220 The Palimpsest
cobs, another form of fuel, useful for both 
winter and summer. After the periodic corn 
shelling, some farmers were generous in 
donating a load of cobs to the preacher, hauling 
it over in a wagon, and even cheerfully scoop­
ing the load into the cobshed. Other farmers, 
who couldn’t resist charging whatever the traf­
fic would bear, preferred taking our cash to 
having piles of excess cobs rotting in their barn­
yards. These farmers would also haul the pre­
cious source of energy to our yard, but often 
they simply dumped the cobs on the ground. 
From there, we had to carry basket after basket 
into the cobshed. Morning and evening, and 
often during the day, we hauled heavily-laden 
cob baskets into the house. Some of these bas­
kets were simply old wooden bushel baskets, 
left over from the season’s canning. These were 
easy to carry, but a great annoyance to our 
mother, for the cob dust sifted through the 
bottom of the baskets onto her clean linoleum 
kitchen floor. Her favorite basket, but not ours
because it was so much heavier to carry, was a/ *
big galvanized basket which fit next to the 
kitchen stove. Behind it, we piled the kindling 
under the faucet of the silvered hot water tank. 
As long as there was a fire going in the 
cookstove, that tank provided our one source of 
hot water. Lined up in orderly fashion on the 
other side of the cob basket was the metal coal 
bucket. This important item, always painted 
black, had a wide back and high handle, en­
abling one to pile in large chunks of coal; the 
front end tapered and sloped so that one could 
pour finer bits of coal into the stove top, and 
later empty out the ashes gathered from the 
grate of the stove.
here was an art to starting a fire in the cook- 
stove, and on the skill of the fire maker— 
and tender—depended the success of most 
country cooks. Just enough cobs below, with a 
few sticks of kindling, would start off the fire. 
Then more sticks of wood, topped off by a good 
shovelful of coal to get the kettle boiling for the
A typical winter evenings activity: Mrs. G. Rickels 
crocheting a rag rug. (G. Rickels Collection, SHSI)
first pot of coffee, and the water in the bottom 
of the double boiler hot enough to cook the 
cracked wheat which had been soaking since 
the night before. Later came the real firing-up, 
when the bread and cookies and maybe a roast 
had to be baked. Before that, as the oven 
warmed up, a tray of clothespins might heat 
briefly so that fingers wouldn’t freeze as they 
attempted to attach instantly-stiffened sheets 
to the outside line.
Mother was a stickler for drying clothes out­
doors, whether the sun shone or not, and some 
of the more grotesque patterns remembered 
from childhood were long-legged union suits 
and overalls distended into a ghostly frieze 
above the snow. By afternoon more cobs and 
wood were needed in the kitchen stove, this 
time to bake the corn bread and to fry the bacon 
and sliced apples which would serve as supper. 
Some towels and heavier underwear, still not 
thawed from lack of sun, probably hung above
The Palimpsest 221
the warming oven of the stove, giving off steam 
and absorbing a redolence which indisputably 
told our schoolmates the next morning what we 
had had for supper the night before.
After the supper dishes were washed, the 
oven served another purpose. With still more 
coal and wood added to the stove, the open 
door radiated an inviting warmth which drew 
all members of the household. Those whose 
legs were longer—my father s and my broth­
er s—kept their chairs on the outside; the rest 
of us, the shorter ones, drew up close. Then 
came the tricky business of resting one s stock­
inged feet on the oven door—not too heavily or 
the spring would break, or just inside the 
oven—but gingerly, or else the heels would be 
singed. Mother crocheted or mended; my 
brother and I did our homework; Father puffed 
bis pipe, and when the homework was done,
Another wintertime activity: Lenore and Robert 
Rickels listening to the radio in the dining room of 
the Peonage in late December 1927. (G. Rickets
Collection, SHSI)
read to us from his fairly well-stocked library. 
We did have a radio in the dining room, but the 
old Philco was so carefully wired and grounded 
that there was never any thought of its being 
portable. The party-line telephone attached to 
the wall, also in the dining room, might have 
provided further entertainment had we 
preacher s kids not been too well brought up 
[sic] to listen in on the delicious gossip pro­
vided by the various “rings.”
The blissful moments of warmth around the 
stove were welcomed by all before the clock 
struck nine and Father s inexorable rule, bed 
by nine o’clock, went into effect. Once he 
began winding his pocket watch we knew it was 
time to draw as much heat into ourselves as we 
could, run upstairs and shuck our daytime 
clothes in the bathroom, and make a dash for 
the Amana blankets.
The coal used in both the furnace and the kitchen stoves could be either soft Indiana 
coal or hard Kentucky anthracite. It was always
dirty. From the time it was thrown into the coal✓
bin until it went out in the form of soot through 
the chimney, it caused the despair of many a 
fussy housewife. By March the house was 
dingy, and while the windows could be washed 
from the inside, there really was not much else 
that could be done until the furnace no longer 
had to be fired. It is not difficult to understand 
why a fastidious housewife longed for the April 
showers which ushered in the annual orgy of 
spring housecleaning. That this orgy was usu­
ally extended for a full month was a point of 
honor with many housewives in the congrega­
tion. That it tended to stretch into at least a 
month and a half in our house was a sad indica­
tion that ours was the parsonage. With the 
annual Mission Festival coming the second 
Sunday in June, Mother considered it a point of 
honor as a preacher's wife not to finish the 
housecleaning until the Saturday before Mis­
sion Festival, the high point in the domestic, as 
well as the congregational, year. □


Fuel

Otting, Loras C

Gothic Splendor in Northeast Iowa

Lewis, Wilma

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Five Generations
by Wilma Lewis
ge is not measured by years — it is a state 
of mind. And I was remembering that as I 
looked at a picture on my desk. It is a pho­
tograph of five generations of women, taken in 
1903. All lived in the small town of Humeston, 
Iowa, within three blocks of each other. All sat 
together in the family pew in the little white 
church close by.
In those days it was quite fashionable to have 
family pictures taken by a good photographer, 
either singly or in groups. The five-generation 
photograph was decided on with October 5, 
1903, selected as the date of the sitting. Each 
woman was dressed in her Sunday best, with 
her hair carefully combed.
At the far right was the youngest of the five 
generations — a golden-haired girl of seven, 
named Wilma Barker. Her hair was long and 
straight with a ribbon bow on the right side. 
Her low-necked dress had a Big Bertha collar of 
embroidered muslin and she wore a chain 
necklace of tiny hearts around her neck. Her 
head was tilted as though she was wondering 
what it was all about.
To the left of Wilma was her mother, Ollie 
Barker, age thirty. She had skin as soft and 
creamy as satin, gray eyes, and long black hair 
that she wore piled high on her head in a 
pompadour. She was the most beautiful 
woman 1 had ever seen, and I desperately 
wanted to be like her. But only our eyes and
© Iowa State Historical Department/Office of the State Histor­
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mouths were alike, the rest was my dad. She 
taught a Sunday School class, sang in the choir, 
and worked in Ladies’ Aid. Her cream-colored 
and black waist had a high neck and wide 
lapels. The front was black velvet, trimmed 
with heavy ecru lace.
To the left of Ollie was her mother, Asalee 
Stone, age fifty, with hair parted primly in the 
middle, and with the same gray eyes as my
mother. Her dress was of ivorv taffeta that✓
rustled when she walked. The neck was high 
and the entire front was white, covered by 
homemade black Battenberg lace. Asalee 
raised six children — Ollie, Bertha, Sylvia, 
Floyd, Roy, and Jennie. Grandmother Stone 
was an ambitious woman who had learned to be 
a nurse. She traveled all around the county, 
assisting our old country doctor, riding in a 
buggy, and often through mud and snow. She 
cared for mothers and new babies and helped 
wherever she could. Mother stayed at home 
and cared for the family. In her spare time after 
supper, Grandmother Stone made patchwork 
quilts. She hoped to complete one for each 
child.
To the left of Asalee was Great-grandmother 
Taylor, age eighty. She wore her hair pulled 
back into a tight little knot in back, wore steel- 
rimmed glasses, and a very pleasant smile. Her 
family included Etta, Paulina, Clara, Asalee, 
and one son, Sylvester. Two of the children had 
married and moved away from Iowa — Paulina 
to California, and Clara to Kansas — while two
_
*
144 T he Palimpsest
of the children had remained in Humeston 
after their marriage — Asalee and Sylvester. 
That left Etta, an old maid who kept house for 
her mother and Great-great-grandmother 
Steele.
Great-great-grandmother Steele s house 
was big and filled with treasures collected 
through the years. The living room was large 
with long lace curtains at the windows and dark 
red drapes always drawn against the sun. The 
carpet was a dark brown with huge pink cab­
bage roses in it. Tall-backed horsehair chairs 
were there and an old-fashioned horsehair 
couch. I remember I always kept sliding off the 
couch when I tried to sit on it. Etta would give 
me a big seashell to hold to my ear so that 1 
could hear the sound of the sea. Paulina had 
sent it to her mother from California, so it was 
very special. In the exact center of this room 
was a big walnut table. On it was the big family 
Bible, containing a complete account of births 
and deaths throughout the years. Tucked away 
between the pages were articles about family 
and friends. It had an ornate brass clasp on the 
front. It was never read. There were smaller 
Bibles for that. The family Bible was held in 
reverence by the whole family group.
Etta kept the house immaculate and was a 
wonderful cook. She made the best old-fash­
ioned molasses cookies. xMother would take me 
to visit the grandmothers and I would sit on 
Great-great-grandmother Steele’s horsehair 
chair. Great-grandmother Taylor would spread 
a fine linen napkin on my knees, and Etta 
would bring me a plate, hand-painted and frag­
ile as an eggshell. On it were placed two 
molasses cookies, and there were no second 
helpings. Great-grandmother Taylor believed 
that two cookies were enough for a little girl. 
She never knew that I could have eaten at least 
six. I loved those visits to the big house and 
could hardly wait for the next time I would be 
all dressed up for another.
All this beauty belonged to Great-great­
grandmother Steele, age ninety-eight, and the
fifth lady in the photograph. Born in 1805, she 
was the only daughter among six sons. She 
walked tall and straight, and carried a gold­
headed cane. Her dress was a dull black alpaca 
with no trim except for a tiny white collar of fine 
linen. Her hair was snow white and, as in the 
photograph, she always wore a little black lace 
cap tied under her chin. She loved me and I 
adored her. She frequently sat in her old rock­
ing chair placed by the window in the big old- 
fashioned kitchen, and watched Etta baking 
cookies and getting meals for the three of them.
* * *
A ge is not a question of years — it is a state of mind. The five generations never 
thought of being old, they lived one day at a 
time, and never worried about tomorrow.
Great-great-grandmother Steele died at the 
age of ninety-nine and was still walking and 
wiping the dishes, then sitting gently rocking 
as she had done for so many years.
Great-grandmother Taylor died at the age of 
ninety-two and spent her time making lovely 
doilies out of plain string.
Grandmother Stone lived to be eighty-nine 
and made beautiful tatting. She fashioned her 
own designs, and could sell more than she 
could make. One year when they needed a 
wagon around the place, she had sold enough 
tatting to buy it. She said she was the only 
woman she knew who had ever tatted a wagon.
Ollie Barker lived to be eighty-seven, and 
spent her time crocheting gifts for her friends. 
Some were linen handkerchiefs with wide col­
ored edges, some were hot dish mats all white 
with colored borders.
And what about the last member of the five 
generations of women in the photograph? And 
why do I remember so much about each woman?
I am Wilma, that little girl with the long blonde 
hair. And now I am almost eighty-nine and I m 
remembering all the yesterdays. O


Five Generations

Main, Elaine Carol

Miss Paul' Hits the Glittering Chautauqua Trail

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