I like to write junk...

SMOKING

“I missed out on coolness in high school, being a relatively shy type of guy.”

I recently decided to take up smoking. Friends have been smoking for several years now without problem, yet I declined mostly because of the cost. I believe Tom Gildea was the first of the group to light up, and then came Jim Brownfield and Brian Holtrop.

Trying to be cool wasn’t the reason they joined the fray; taste had a lot to do with it. After driving around town and seeing more smokers than nonsmokers, I decided the time was right. Hey, if “cool” is part of the movement, then I desperately wanted in on the action. I missed out on coolness in high school, being a relatively shy type of guy.

Some HOA neighborhoods don’t allow smoking, and thankfully, we don’t live in one of those. I read where a man in Florida was approached by an HOA representative for smoking in his backyard. When he refused to heed the warning, he was fined.

Thankfully, most, if not all, Lake Havasu City neighborhoods do not have such restrictive regulations, at least I hope they don’t. I’ve observed NO SMOKING signs around town, but this pertains to another form of smoking, mostly tobacco-oriented, although I suppose it pertains to hemp as well.

Years ago, a group of tenants in a nearby apartment building were openly smoking crack behind their complex, along with doing other illegal things. Small children were present.

It didn’t take long for local police to get wind of this activity, and the culprits were all arrested. It was entertaining seeing these guys and gals hauled away in handcuffs, while on the other hand, there was sadness when child protection entered the scene.

The type of smoking I’m referring to is neither crack, pot, nor tobacco; it’s the smoking of meat and vegetables. These “smokers,” as folks call them, are nothing more than fancy BBQ grills, using wood pellets to create the heat and smoke rather than charcoal briquets.

Prices range from around $350 for an entry-level Pit Boss to over 7K for a commercial-grade Yoder. I wanted a fancy Yoder, but my wife insisted that I take baby steps first. Weight has a lot to do with the model we chose because it will be going with us on camping trips.

The wood pellets for smokers come in many different forms, with hickory, apple, and mesquite being the most popular. I’d like something that has the aroma of a Kentucky moonshine still on a cold January night, with hickory, oak, and maple being suggested by my artificial intelligence helpmate, Miss Purdy. She should know.

Our smoker was purchased locally, with this being the best way in case problems arise. A special blend of hickory, oak, and maple pellets was specially ordered. I can’t wait to try this thing out, with chicken breasts being the first meat smoked, along with zucchini, squash, and carrots to follow.

If things go as planned, and I become an expert smoker like my friends, Tom, Jim, and Brian, I may very well opt to move up to a Yoder in the coming years. One of their models has sweet-looking paint, mag-style wheels, and inflatable tires, making it look like a hotrod.

What sane guy or gal wouldn’t want one of those babies parked in their garage?

SKULL VALLEY

“The name “Skull Valley” is believed to originate from a battle between local tribes, where skulls were reportedly found in the area.”

Last year, my wife and I visited Skull Valley, Arizona, and we fell in love with the place—especially the mystique. Just the name alone conjures up all kinds of strange images. The late actor, Robert Mitchum, along with his deceased son, James, lived in Skull Valley on their ranch when they weren’t in Hollywood. I suppose the Mitchum family found sanctity there.

I knew more about Harper Valley than I did Skull Valley, thanks to an informative song performed by Jeanie C. Riley in 1968. That tune was labeled, “Harper Valley PTA.” For those younger folks having never heard this recording, it’s well worth listening to.

I’m not sure Harper Valley is in Arizona, but it could be. There’s a Harper Valley Acres located in our state that raises cattle and Red Wattle hogs. I couldn’t find a school listed there, so without question, there’s no Harper Valley Acres PTA.

As I mentioned earlier, I’ve been to Skull Valley, though perhaps only for 30 minutes. Joleen and I stopped long enough to snap pictures of a vintage gas station and a general store. The woman in the store where I bought a Coke was extremely nice.

I hear from friends living in Prescott and Chino Valley that the gas station is now a café and gift shop. Next time through, we’ll check things out. I’d actually like to find a small parcel of property in Skull Valley to park our camper on and spend a few weeks. That’d give me time to really check the place out.

For location, demographic, and historical sake, Skull Valley is a small, unincorporated community and valley located in Yavapai County, Arizona. Known for its rugged beauty and unique name, the area has a rich history shaped by the presence of Native Americans, pioneer settlement, ranching, and railroad development. This document explores the key events and influences that have defined Skull Valley’s past.

Before European settlement, the region now known as Skull Valley was inhabited by Native American tribes, notably the Yavapai and Hualapai. These communities utilized the valley’s resources for hunting, gathering, and traditional practices.

The name “Skull Valley” is believed to originate from a battle between local tribes, where skulls were reportedly found in the area. While the precise details are lost to time, this legend contributed to the valley’s distinctive name.

In the mid-1800s, American pioneers and prospectors began arriving in central Arizona, drawn by the promise of mineral wealth and grazing land. Skull Valley’s location provided fertile ground for agriculture and ranching, and settlers established homesteads throughout the valley. The area’s isolation made it ideal for ranching, and cattle and sheep ranches proliferated in the late 19th century.

The arrival of the railroad in the late 19th century was a turning point for Skull Valley. In 1894, the Atchison, Topeka, and Santa Fe Railway built a line through the region, establishing a depot that served as a vital link for ranchers, miners, and travelers. The railroad facilitated the transport of goods and livestock, connecting Skull Valley with Prescott and other Arizona communities.

Throughout the 20th century, Skull Valley remained a tight-knit rural community. The Skull Valley School, opened in 1926, became a local landmark, serving generations of children in the area. The community also established a post office in 1877, which remains operational today. Despite its small population, Skull Valley has maintained a sense of identity and continuity over the decades.

Today, Skull Valley is a quiet, scenic region known for its ranches, historic schoolhouse, and tranquil landscapes. It attracts visitors seeking a glimpse of Arizona’s rural heritage and serves as a reminder of the state’s frontier past. While the population remains small, the community’s history is preserved in its landmarks, stories, and enduring traditions.

Skull Valley, Arizona, stands as a testament to the resilience and spirit of rural communities in the American West. Its history, shaped by Native American presence, pioneer ambition, and railroad expansion, continues to influence the character of the valley. As Arizona evolves, Skull Valley remains a unique and storied part of its landscape!

OLD & BITTER

“Becoming old and bitter is not an inevitable part of aging.”

I’ve run into a few people these past few years who seem bitter at the world. Something as uncontrollable as the weather can set them off. I can’t really say that aging is the lone factor here, because some younger folks come across the same.

Twenty years ago, my daughter accused Joleen and me of being negative, especially when she rode with us in the car. Miranda was around 24 at that time. My wife and I sometimes openly vocalize at obstinate drivers, and our daughter heard us.

It’s merely part of our driving routine and a form of stress release. “Look at that idiot!” is the most common sentence. I recently heard from our grandson that his mom now does the same, especially after moving to the big city.

For the sake of this article, I’ll stick to older people getting bitter because I’m part of that generation. What causes some seniors to become ‘crochety,’ as many of my male friends jokingly call the symptom, is my research project of the week. I hope I never get to that point, and if I do, someone please poke me with a sharp stick.

Not being a psychologist, I had to cherry-pick information because there’s so much of it out there. Many of the medical terms were over my head, and I didn’t want to stop and look up every big word or lengthy term. A grassroots answer was all that I was looking for. Unfortunately, it wasn’t that simple.

As people age, their emotional outlook and personality can change in various ways. While many individuals grow older with grace, wisdom, and positivity, others may become bitter, resentful, or disillusioned. Understanding what leads to this transformation is important for fostering empathy and encouraging healthy aging.

Unresolved Regrets: Accumulated regrets from missed opportunities, poor decisions, or unfulfilled dreams can weigh heavily over time. The inability to let go of these regrets may lead to bitterness.
Loss and Grief: Aging often brings losses—of loved ones, health, or independence. If these losses are not processed healthily, they can foster resentment and a negative outlook.
Disappointment in Life Outcomes: When reality falls short of expectations, some individuals struggle to accept their circumstances, leading to chronic dissatisfaction and bitterness.
Personality Traits: People who are naturally pessimistic, rigid, or prone to rumination may be more susceptible to bitterness as they age.
Social Isolation: Lack of meaningful relationships or support networks can make older adults feel lonely and undervalued, contributing to resentment.
Ageism and Marginalization: Experiencing discrimination or feeling marginalized because of age can erode self-esteem and foster bitterness toward society.
Financial Hardship: Struggles with money and economic insecurity in later life can create stress and frustration, sometimes manifesting as bitterness.

How individuals cope with life’s challenges plays a significant role in their emotional well-being. Those who practice forgiveness, adaptability, and gratitude tend to age more positively. Conversely, those who dwell on past hurts, resist change, or lack coping skills may become increasingly bitter.

It is possible to counteract bitterness with self-reflection, supportive relationships, and professional help if needed. Encouraging older adults to stay engaged, pursue new interests, and maintain social connections can help foster a more optimistic outlook.

Becoming old and bitter is not an inevitable part of aging. It is often the result of a complex interplay between psychological, social, and environmental factors. By understanding these influences, we can better support ourselves and others in achieving a fulfilling and positive later life.

Having read the secular opinion on bitterness and not understanding it all, I turned to the Bible to get the ultimate and more simplistic answer. Hebrews 12:15: Paraphrased, this verse tells me that bitterness can take root in the heart, causing trouble and defiling others, creating relational strife, and causing one to fall short of God’s grace.

God advises believers to rid themselves of bitterness and anger, favoring forgiveness and love to avoid becoming consumed by resentment. Having read that and totally understanding, should I ever become so bitter that I’m consumed by it, someone please poke me with two sharp sticks!

FLAWED THINKING

“I was wisely taught early on not to make important decisions based entirely upon feelings.”

Decision-making is a complex process that often involves weighing facts, analyzing potential outcomes, and considering both logical and emotional factors. While feelings are a natural part of human experience, relying solely on emotions to make important decisions can lead to undesirable results.

In politics, decisions based primarily on emotions, personal feelings, or empathy—commonly referred to as “touchy-feely” decision making—can sometimes result in misguided or ineffective policies.

While empathy and compassion are important traits for leaders, relying too heavily on sentiment without considering data, expert advice, or long-term consequences can lead to negative outcomes.

Feelings are subjective, temporary, and often influenced by external circumstances or internal biases. Emotions such as anger, excitement, fear, or sadness can cloud judgment and distort the perception of reality.

When decisions are made in the heat of the moment or under emotional distress, there is a higher chance of overlooking critical information or making choices that are not in one’s best interest.

Impulsiveness: Decisions made based on strong emotions are often impulsive, lacking careful consideration of long-term consequences.
Bias and Subjectivity: Feelings can introduce personal biases, leading to choices that are unfair or not objective.
Lack of Consistency: Emotional states fluctuate, which can result in inconsistent decision-making over time.
Regret and Guilt: Choices made in emotional moments may later lead to regret, especially if negative outcomes were not thoroughly considered.

Rational decision-making involves evaluating facts, considering possible outcomes, and making choices based on evidence and reason. This approach tends to produce more consistent, fair, and effective results. While emotions should not be ignored, they should be balanced with logical analysis to minimize the risk of poor decisions.

I was wisely taught early on not to make important decisions based entirely upon feelings. My father said that doing so can lead to big problems, such as indecisiveness, ineffectiveness, and nonassertiveness. Can you imagine the coach of an NFL football team making decisions this way?

Coach Feely wouldn’t release nonproductive players who weren’t contributing to the team because they have mouths to feed at home. Before long, this team is in the basement where ratings are concerned. The team owner ultimately has no choice but to fire the guy.

The CEO of a large company keeps employees who don’t perform because she doesn’t have the grit to terminate their employment. Stockholders eventually see the ill of her management style, and vote to have the woman removed before the business enters Chapter 11 bankruptcy.

A good example of someone being fired for lacking good judgment and assertiveness is President Joe Biden. A majority of Americans saw that he was making unwise decisions and voted him out. One of those bad decisions was keeping the US borders open, and then lying and saying that they weren’t.

I don’t believe Biden’s actions were solely about being touchy-feely on his part or him having empathy or sympathy. It was a calculated move by people higher up in the Democrat Party to allow folks into this country illegally, give them “free” things, so that they’d always vote Democrat.

This was the perfect way to create a one-party system, until informed voters, having “common sense,” caught on to his underhanded tactics. Fortunately, those illegal alien criminals crossing the border, allowed so by Joe Biden and Kamala Harris, are being sent back home for the good of the US.

In conclusion, making important and tough decisions based solely on feelings can be problematic because emotions are often fleeting, subjective, and can distort judgment.

By incorporating rational analysis, common sense, and considering both emotional and logical factors, individuals can make wiser, more balanced decisions that serve their best interests in the long run.

Thankfully, for the 77.3 million citizens having legally voted for him, President Donald J. Trump is doing just that for the United States!

BISBEE, ARIZONA

“The Lowell Shaft was more than just an industrial structure—it was part of the daily lives of Bisbee’s residents.”

I’ve never been to Bisbee, Arizona, with it still on my bucket list. A picture postcard from 1908 shows the Lowell Shaft in Bisbee, with the photo revealing a huge mining operation, much larger than many I’ve seen, other than perhaps Kennicott near McCarthy, Alaska. I researched the history of Lowell Shaft first, and then the sender and receiver of my vintage postcard.

The Lowell Shaft is a significant landmark in the mining history of Bisbee, Arizona. Known for its deep ties to the copper industry, Bisbee has long been recognized as one of the most productive mining districts in the United States. The Lowell Shaft stands as a testament to the engineering prowess and industrial ambition that shaped the town and the broader region.

This shaft or mine was developed in the early 20th century, during a period of rapid expansion for the copper mining industry in Bisbee. The town itself was founded in the 1880s, following the discovery of rich copper deposits in the Mule Mountains.

As mining operations grew, so did the need for deeper shafts to access increasingly valuable ore bodies. The Lowell Shaft, named after the nearby community of Lowell, was constructed to meet these demands, enabling miners to reach ore deposits that were previously inaccessible.

During its operational peak, the Lowell Shaft played a central role in supporting the output of the Copper Queen Mine and other major mining enterprises in Bisbee.

Its depth and strategic location made it an essential part of the underground network that fueled the town’s economic growth. The shaft facilitated the extraction of copper, silver, and other minerals, contributing to Bisbee’s reputation as the “Queen of the Copper Camps.”

The construction and operation of the Lowell Shaft reflected ongoing technological advancements in mining. Powerful hoisting equipment, ventilation systems, and safety measures were implemented to accommodate deeper mining activities. These innovations not only improved productivity but also helped safeguard the lives of the miners working below ground.

The Lowell Shaft was more than just an industrial structure—it was part of the daily lives of Bisbee’s residents. The influx of workers and their families promoted the growth of the Lowell neighborhood, which became a vibrant part of the local community.

The presence of the shaft and associated mining operations shaped Bisbee’s social fabric, with local businesses, schools, and infrastructure evolving to support the mining workforce.

As the copper markets shifted and ore bodies were depleted, the Lowell Shaft, like many others in Bisbee, saw a decline in activity by the mid-20th century. However, its legacy endures.

Today, the shaft and its surroundings serve as historical reminders of Bisbee’s mining heritage. The area attracts visitors interested in industrial history, and preservation efforts aim to maintain the site as a tribute to the miners and engineers who contributed to Bisbee’s development.

The Bisbee postcard I purchased off eBay was sent to W.L. Marcy in Tucson, on January 2, 1908, by Mabel Watkins in Bisbee. Mabel’s short message reads as follows:

“Dear friend, we have word that Mabel A. has typhoid pneumonia. There seems no end of trouble for the family. I was very glad to get the pretty postcard & thank you. I now wish you a “glad New Year” (1434) from Mabel Watkins”

Mabel Esther Snyder was born on December 10, 1872, in Wisconsin. She married Bassett Treham Watkins on January 8, 1896. The couple had a son and a daughter, Lucile Esther and Vertice Orvill. A photograph of Mabel shows her to be a beautiful lady.

Mabel’s husband worked as a fireman in a copper mine, and in later life, at the age of 79, he was an assistant mortician. Mabel Snyder-Watkins died on February 24, 1941, at the age of 69. She’s buried in the town of Brooklyn, Wisconsin.

Mabel’s friend, William L. Darcy, was born in 1831. He lived an interesting life, being a mathematician, astronomer, engineer, and land surveyor. The aged man died on February 21, 1929, after being hit by a coal truck while crossing a street. Mr. Darcy was 90 and is buried in Tucson.

THE BIG PICTURE

“We parted ways, with the fellow saying, “Be careful out there!”

I was at Silly Al’s Pizza in Quartzite last week with my wife and some like-minded friends, feeling very patriotic and hungry. The joint was crowded, and the chatter quite loud, yet I knew our wait would be well worth it. Al’s Hawaiian pizza is the best in Arizona—per my taste buds.

We were boondocking in the desert near Bouse, Arizona, so time didn’t really matter to our group. For those who’ve never heard the term, boondocking is a relatively new camping term. I prefer camping instead, as boondocking sounds a bit hickish.

While we stood in line waiting for a table, a lady embarrassingly accused us of cutting in line, which was not true. It was finally pointed out by someone else that our group was ahead of hers. Ignoring the information, this Karen, still red in the face, continued to whine. I suppose she will be for quite some time.

Mark, Steve, Jim, Richard, Joleen, and I were attempting to carry on a conversation to no avail. I decided to perform a little ‘people watching’ as I often do in circumstances like this. A foursome sat at a table next to us, and after finishing their pizza and beer, they stood up.

I wasn’t sure which fellow the attractive brown-haired woman was attached to—my odds being 50-50 on getting things right. Seeing her suddenly clutch the tall, silver-haired guy’s arm, I picked wrong, once again.

It’s difficult to tell such with senior citizens, because some couples age differently. She appeared to be in her late 50s and he in his 70s, although I’d bet they were close to the same. Guessing how old a person is gets harder and harder with each passing year.

A large group of seniors across the room was talking so loudly that they drowned out those around them. Remembering a television commercial for Verizon, I abruptly yelled out, as loud as I could, “Can you hear me now!”

The place went deafly quiet, with people turning heads left to right, while a few grinned, searching to see who the loudmouth was. I innocently did the same. Joleen gazed down at the table, attempting to keep from laughing. Five seconds later, the verbal roar was back, louder than ever.

One table had a man sitting alone, and he appeared to be sad, with several in my group also noticing this. I felt sure the guy was a widower. It seemed logical that Silly Al’s was the place he and his wife always came before she died.

After 15 minutes or so, a group of three chatty gals walked in and sat down at this fellow’s table. The guy was suddenly all smiles. If “Lonesome Larry,” as I labeled him, was a widower, he no longer grieved.

Another customer and his elderly female accomplice caught my eye. The man, in his late 70s or early 80s, wore a Vietnam Vet hat covered in multicolored patches, so I knew he was a survivor of that unpopular conflict. It was good to see that some military members having served in Vietnam are not afraid to advertise the fact.

So many came back home to jeers and hateful language, with a sizable number unable to take it, eventually committing suicide. As I sat there in Silly Al’s, I wondered if this former soldier endured the same harsh treatment without incurring mental anguish.

I also pondered what he now thought of purple and green-haired anarchists and misaligned college insurrectionists violently protesting in the streets, full of hate towards military, immigration agents, and police, who are merely trying to do their jobs. Most likely, this seasoned warrior felt it was Déjà Vu — 1972.

Before leaving Silly Al’s, I walked over and thanked him for his service. He extended his right hand, with the man’s grip being solid and firm. We parted ways, with the fellow saying, “Be careful out there!”

If this country is to survive another 250 years, it’ll be because of patriots like him, and not from the obtrusive and destructive actions of clueless leftist agitators.

That uninformed group never seems to see the big picture. I’d surely hate to bank my children and my grandchildren’s future on their poor and unwise decision-making. Much like the five pizzas on our table that day, I’d love to see them totally disappear!

CABIN in the CITY

“For me, that dream is a small cabin sitting beside a stream in Greer, Arizona.”

Something that I noticed several years ago was that my relatives and my wife’s kin who resided in rural areas, wisely made plans once they reached retirement age, on moving closer to towns and cities with medical facilities. Those who did seem to have benefited from such.

Joleen’s aunts and uncles in Kansas are a prime example. I’m sure Lee and Joan Mills would’ve rather stayed on their Chapman farm, yet common sense dictated that they finally give up the serenity for closer access to the Abilene Hospital. This seemed to pay off for them as they both lived long, fruitful lives. Lee was 96 and Joan 94.

I decided to research the statistics of remaining in the country versus moving to a town or city. What I found made me glad that we haven’t picked up stakes and relocated to an oasis floating around in my head. For me, that dream is a small log cabin in the rugged White Mountains, sitting beside a stream in Greer, Arizona.

Studies show that access to timely medical care is crucial for the health and survival of older adults. One significant factor that can influence outcomes in emergency situations and chronic disease management is the distance an individual lives from a hospital.

For older adults, rapid access to healthcare can be the difference between life and death, especially in cases of heart attack, stroke, or other acute medical emergencies. Proximity to a hospital not only ensures faster emergency response but also facilitates better management of chronic illnesses through regular checkups and access to specialized care.

Several studies have examined the relationship between hospital proximity and mortality rates among older populations. While exact statistics vary by region and healthcare system, the general findings are consistent:

Older adults living within 5 miles of a hospital have improved survival rates following acute medical events. For example, studies suggest that the one-year survival rate after a heart attack is up to 15% higher for individuals living close to a hospital compared to those residing more than 20 miles away.
Emergency response times are significantly shorter for people living near hospitals, which is associated with better outcomes in time-sensitive conditions such as stroke. The likelihood of receiving life-saving treatments within the critical window is much greater for those closer to medical facilities.
Chronic disease management is more effective for older adults living near hospitals, leading to lower overall mortality rates. Regular access to healthcare providers helps in early detection, routine monitoring, and adherence to treatment plans.
Rural versus urban differences: Older adults in rural areas, who often live farther from hospitals, experience higher mortality rates for many conditions compared to their urban counterparts. The disparity is most pronounced for emergencies requiring immediate care.

While living close to a hospital generally improves survival odds, other factors also play important roles, such as:

Quality and capacity of the hospital
Availability of transportation
Socioeconomic status and insurance coverage
Presence of support networks (family, caregivers)

In conclusion, older adults residing near hospitals have statistically higher survival rates, especially for acute medical emergencies and chronic disease management. The closer proximity allows for faster access to life-saving interventions and ongoing healthcare, which directly contributes to better outcomes and longevity.

These findings highlight the importance of improving healthcare accessibility for elderly populations, particularly in rural and underserved areas, to reduce disparities in survival rates. I’m very thankful that Havasu Regional Medical Center (HRMC) is only 4.3 miles away from where we live.

Having been to the emergency room several times, had I lived in remote Greer and incurred the same medical problems, I wouldn’t be writing this column. Although there’s no stream or trees outside our front window like there would be in the White Mountains, I can still toss a couple of logs in the never-used fireplace, and jokingly refer to our house in Havasu as a cabin in the city!

SUTPHEN’S MILL, KANSAS?

“You might say we’re somewhat partial to the place, with Joleen’s dad and mom getting married in Sutphen Mill Church.”

A vintage lithograph postcard, circa 1910, was sent or given to Mr. Harry Trumpower of Independence, Kansas, by Olive Keller. There’s no stamp or postmark on the card. On the front shows an old grist mill, with a polite and thankful message from Olive, reading,

“Many thanks for the pretty birthday card you sent me. I was so pleased to think that you all remembered me. Your friend Olive Keller”

Olive A. Keller was born on May 8, 1889, in Winston, Kansas. Her parents were Oliver and Daisy Keller. The family moved to Independence, Kansas, soon after she was born.

Olive married Harry Elliott in September 1913. The couple had three children. Sadly, Harry and Olive divorced in 1939, with Olive, at the age of 61, having to work as a maid for the Charles McGonikie family. Mr. McGonikie was a wealthy business owner. Olive died on December 6, 1977, at the age of 88. She’s buried in Independence.

The postcard recipient, Harry Bailey Trumpower, was born April 24, 1893. He was four years younger than Olive. The young man evidently took a liking to Miss Keller and gave her a special card. Things didn’t go his way romantically, perhaps, because Harry was only 17 and Olive was 21.

With things not working out as he planned, Harry married Edith Johnson on May 29, 1926. They remained together for life until Harry passed away on July 27, 1977. Ironically, this is the same year that Olive died. Olive’s ex-husband, Harry Elliott, died in 1965.

The grist mill on the front of Olive Keller’s postcard isn’t identified, but I believe it could be Sutphen’s Mill in Dickinson County. There’s no way to prove this, because I am not aware of a surviving picture to compare it with. Even if it’s not, the photograph is representative of how this mill might’ve once looked.

I visited the Sutphen’s Mill location in the 1980s with my father-in-law, and all that remained was a stone foundation. You might say we’re somewhat partial to the place, with Joleen’s dad and mom getting married in Sutphen Mill Church.

Sutphen Mill is a small unincorporated community, a ghost town, located in Dickinson County, Kansas. Though little-known today, Sutphen Mill has a unique history tied to the rural development of central Kansas and the importance of water-powered mills in the 19th century. A church and cemetery remain.

Sutphen Mill was established in the late 1800s by W.H. Sutphen and Orville Sutphen, during a period of intense westward settlement and agricultural expansion in Kansas. The community was named for its most significant feature: the Sutphen Mill, a gristmill built along Chapman Creek. This mill processed local farmers’ grain, serving as a central economic and social hub for the surrounding rural area.

Grain mills played a crucial role in the development of rural Kansas, providing local farmers with the means to process wheat, corn, and other grains into flour and meal.

The presence of a reliable water source, like Chapman Creek, was vital, and the construction of Sutphen Mill attracted settlers seeking both economic opportunity and community. The mill’s location near transportation routes also contributed to its early growth.

At its height, Sutphen Mill supported a small but active community. In addition to the mill, the area featured homes, a schoolhouse, and a post office. Like many rural Kansas communities, life revolved around agriculture, with social events often centered at the mill or local school. Local residents formed a tight-knit community, relying on one another for trade, labor, and socialization.

Over time, technological advancements and the consolidation of agricultural processing led to the decline of small local mills. The rise of railroads, improved roads, and larger commercial mills in nearby towns reduced the need for small, water-powered operations like Sutphen Mill.

By the early 20th century, the mill ceased operation, and the community’s population dwindled as families moved to larger towns in search of new opportunities.

Today, Sutphen Mill stands as a reminder of the many small, rural communities that once dotted the Kansas landscape. While few physical remains of the mill or community exist, Sutphen Mill’s legacy lives on in local histories and the memories of the families whose lives were shaped by its presence.

Sutphen Mill, Kansas, is representative of the pioneering spirit that shaped the American Midwest. Its history reflects the critical role of agriculture, water-powered industry, and community in settling and developing rural Kansas.

Though small and now largely forgotten, Sutphen Mill played a significant part in the story of Dickinson County and the wider region.

HEPLER, KANSAS

“Hepler, Kansas, is a small rural community nestled in Crawford County in the southeastern region of the state.”

A picture postcard sent on July 23, 1954, from Hepler, Kansas, to Au Gres, Michigan, shows a cowboy riding herd over some cattle in “The Wheat State.” The card senders were Walter and Joyce, with their last name unidentified.

The message says,

“Hi – Having a wonderful time. The county down here is pretty dry. There hoping for rain. Hope to see you. Walter & Joyce”

The card recipient was Mr. and Mrs. Lindy Russelt of Au Gres. Lindbergh “Lindy” Russelt was born on June 27, 1927, to Peter and Meta Russelt. Lindy became a farmer like his father. Lindy married Marie Hohn in 1949, with her passing away on October 3, 1977. Seventeen days later, he married Romance Ernestine Slacker. Lindbergh E. Russelt died on June 23, 1986, at the age of 59.

There’s not a whole lot of information on Lindbergh Russelt. With me unable to positively identify who Walter and Joyce were, although I ‘believe’ them to be Walter and Joyce Miller from St. Clair, Michigan, the two towns on the postcard were more than interesting enough to research.

Hepler, Kansas, is a small rural community nestled in Crawford County in the southeastern region of the state. Though modest in size, Hepler has a rich and enduring history that reflects the broader trends of development, resilience, and community spirit found throughout Kansas.

Hepler was established in the late 19th century, during a period marked by westward expansion and the settlement of the Great Plains. The town was officially platted in 1871 and named after B. F. Hepler, a prominent early settler and influential figure in the region. Like many Kansas communities, Hepler’s early years were shaped by agriculture, with settlers attracted by the promise of fertile land and the opportunity for prosperity.

The arrival of the railroad was a pivotal moment in Hepler’s history. The Missouri-Kansas-Texas Railroad (often called the “Katy”) reached the town in the 1870s, providing a crucial link for transporting crops, livestock, and goods to larger markets. The railroad not only boosted the local economy but also facilitated the growth of Hepler as a trading and service center for surrounding farms.

In its heyday, Hepler boasted a range of amenities and businesses, including general stores, blacksmiths, schools, churches, and grain elevators. The town’s residents were known for their close-knit relationships and community-oriented activities. Social events, such as church gatherings, school plays, and local fairs, were central to life in Hepler and contributed to its enduring sense of identity.

Like many small towns in rural America, Hepler faced challenges as the 20th century progressed. Mechanization in agriculture, changes in transportation, and urban migration resulted in population declines and the closure of many local businesses. Despite these hardships, Hepler’s residents continued to demonstrate resilience, adapting to changing times while maintaining their community spirit.

Today, Hepler remains a testament to the enduring values of rural Kansas. While its population is smaller than in the past, the town’s history is preserved in its buildings, traditions, and the memories of its residents. Annual events and gatherings continue to bring people together, celebrating the town’s heritage and keeping its history alive for future generations.

The story of Hepler, Kansas, is one of perseverance, adaptation, and community. From its founding in the 1870s to the present day, Hepler reflects the broader narrative of many small American towns—rooted in the land, shaped by the railroad, and sustained by the strength of its people.

Au Gres, Michigan, is a small city located in Arenac County along the shores of Lake Huron in the northeastern part of the state. The area’s history dates back to the early 19th century, when it served as a stopping point for French fur traders navigating the Au Gres River. The city’s name, derived from the French “aux grès” meaning “with sandstone,” reflects the region’s distinctive geological features.

Settlement increased during the mid-1800s as lumbering and fishing became central to the local economy, attracting families seeking opportunity in Michigan’s burgeoning northern frontier.

As the lumber industry flourished, Au Gres grew into a vital community, with sawmills, shipping docks, and various businesses springing up to serve both residents and visitors. The arrival of the railroad in the late 1800s further spurred growth, making transportation of goods and people more accessible.

Over the years, as lumbering declined, the community transitioned to agriculture and tourism, capitalizing on its proximity to Lake Huron and the Au Gres River. Today, Au Gres is known for its recreational opportunities, annual events, and strong sense of community, all of which continue to honor and celebrate its rich historical heritage.

SCHWEITZER – PACKARD – FREEMAN – CONNECTION

“1930 – 1950 census records show that Ernst Rudolph “Rudy” Schweitzer lived next to the Packard mother and daughters for several years.”

Born in 1830, Augustus Franklin Packard was an influential individual in the early development of Enterprise, Kansas. While detailed records about his life are limited, available accounts recognize him as a significant contributor to the growth and character of this small Kansas community.

Little is known about Augustus Packard’s early years or his background before arriving in Enterprise, Kansas. Like many settlers during the late 19th century, he likely came to Kansas seeking new opportunities in agriculture, business, or community development as the state was rapidly expanding during this period.

Packard became associated with several civic and business endeavors in Enterprise. The town itself was founded in the 1860s and quickly became a center for grain milling and trade in Dickinson County. Augustus Packard reportedly played a role in supporting local infrastructure projects and was involved in the social and economic life of the community.

Augustus Packard’s impact on Enterprise is remembered through local histories and, in some cases, through family stories and records. He contributed to the establishment of lasting institutions and set an example of leadership during a formative time for both the town and the region. His legacy is intertwined with the growth of Enterprise from a frontier settlement into a stable and prosperous Kansas community.

The legacy of Augustus Packard is a testament to the spirit of early Kansas pioneers. While many specific details of his life may be lost to history, his contributions to Enterprise, Kansas, remain part of the broader story of the American Midwest’s development.

Packard’s 1913 obituary mentions him as being one of the first settlers in Dickinson County. The Dickinson County Museum bestows that honor to George Freeman, my wife’s GG Grandfather. They both moved to the area around the same time. These two settlers were likely acquainted with each other.

Augustus Franklin Packard’s obituary reads as follows, with several grammar corrections:

“Journal 16 Oct 1913; born 9 Nov 1830, Athens Co, Ohio; moved to Dickinson county 1856; was one of the first settlers here; served in territorial legislature and was first county clerk; married 29 Jan 1875 to Alice B. Tuton of Baltimore, Md; had 4 children, Anita, Helen, Alice & Augustus F., all of whom survive; married 2nd Mrs. Sarah Matt; had 3 children, Clarence E., Elmer L. & Pearl I., all of whom survive; died 10 Oct 1913 in Dickinson County; also survived by 2 sisters, Mrs. Annie Winters & Mrs. Mary Adams, both of Dickinson County; Mrs. Adams died 13 Oct 1913. Packard genealogy at DCHS, son of George Washington Packard & Elizabeth Oliver, was a half-brother of Thomas O. Floyd. Augustus divorced both his wives; he is buried next to his mother, Elizabeth Packard, and his sister Mary Adams.”

In all, Augustus had seven children. A picture postcard sent by one of these daughters to another in 1910 from Longford, Kansas, was thoroughly researched. The recipient was Alice Packard, with the sender only identifying herself as “sister.”

A picture on the front of the card shows a one-room Longford school, with the complete class standing beside it and their teacher. The postcard reads:

“March 25, 1910

Dear sister,

Here is a lot of children at our school. My four are here. Can you find them. Josie is here now. Yes, Birtre lives in Topeka. All are well. Will write more soon. Your sister”

Alice B. Packard was born in July 1880 to parents Augustus and Alice Belle Packard. Having her mother’s name made it difficult to research things. One of Alice’s brothers was also named after her father, making for a similar problem.

After Alice’s father divorced their mother and remarried, the three girls and their mom lived together for the rest of their lives. The message sent on that postcard regarding her four children was confusing because none of the Packard girls ever married or had kids, including their half-sister, Pearl. Perhaps they were adopted?

1930 – 1950 census records show that Ernst Rudolph “Rudy” Schweitzer lived next to the Packard mother and daughters for several years. Rudy Schweitzer is my wife’s GG Uncle on the Schweitzer side. It’s most likely he helped the Packard women out during this time.

Alice Belle Tuton-Packard died on March 30, 1931. Her daughter, Alice B. Packard, the postcard recipient, passed away on August 9, 1856, while Helen died in 1961, and Anita passed away in 1963. They’re all buried in Enterprise.

On a side note, Elmer Packard, a son from the second marriage of Augustus Packard, after coming into his share of inheritance money from the sale of his father’s estate, which was sizable, purchased a fast car (at that time) from Topeka. Soon after, he rolled the vehicle, with it killing him and injuring a passenger.