michaeldexterhankins

AMERICUS, KANSAS

“The card message was somewhat cryptic to me, although probably not to the sender and recipient.”

A cute picture postcard sent from Americus, Kansas, to Dunlap, Kansas, in 1911, spoke to me in several ways. The picture on the front shows a Pekingese dog standing calmly beside a kitten.

The face of this dog reminds me of Simon, our little Pek. The kitten is a reminder of Fluffy, a cat I once had in Lubbock, Texas. Sadly, both animals are now gone. Beloved pets don’t seem to stay with us very long.

A phrase underneath the picture says, “A Fig For The World.” I had to look up the definition for such.

The phrase “a fig for the world” is an old-fashioned expression meaning to care very little about what the world thinks or to dismiss the opinions or concerns of others.

Saying “a fig for the world” implies a sense of independence or defiance, as if to say, “I don’t care what others think.” The word “fig” in this context refers to something of little value, so the phrase as a whole expresses disregard for worldly judgment or conventions.

A message on the card was written on September 19. That’s the date of my wedding anniversary. The number 911, taken from 1911, is my late mother’s birthday. Truly significant, Joleen’s father, Herman Freeman, taught at Dunlap Elementary in the 1960s and was also the school principal there.

The card message was somewhat cryptic to me, although probably not to the sender and recipient.

“Americus, Kas

Sept 19, 1911

Dear friend,

By the time you get this it will nearly be time to close our two week work won’t it.

J.G.”

Americus and Dunlap both have interesting histories, with Dunlap’s perhaps a bit more so than the other. Founded in the late 19th century, Dunlap became well known as a settlement for African American families during the Exoduster movement of the 1870s and 1880s.

Many formerly enslaved people migrated from the South to Kansas, seeking new opportunities and freedom, and Dunlap became one of their key destinations.

The town grew into a vibrant community with churches, businesses, and schools serving its residents. Although Dunlap’s population has declined over the years, its historical significance as a haven for Black settlers remains an important part of Kansas heritage. Today, Dunlap might be considered a ghost town.

Americus, Kansas, was founded in the 1850s during the early days of statehood. The town was named after the Italian explorer Amerigo Vespucci and played a role in the westward expansion of the United States. Located in Lyon County, Americus became a hub for agriculture and railroad activity, connecting local farmers to broader markets.

Over the years, Americus established itself as a close-knit rural community, with schools, churches, and small businesses serving its residents. Like many small Kansas towns, it has seen changes in population and industry, but its history as a center for farming and community life continues to shape its identity today. As of 2024, approximately 776 people live in Americus.

Miss M.E. McCaw is Margaret Elizabeth McCaw. She lived in Dunlap for a short time yet hailed from Americus. Margaret was born on April 10, 1885, in Americus, to parents, Sgt. Samuel Porter and Cornelia McCaw. While in Dunlap, she worked as a stenographer for the Poehler Mercantile Company.

On September 7, 1911, Margaret Elizabeth wed Thomas Curry Oyler. This was almost two weeks before she received the postcard. The reference to work by her friend must have meant preparation for the wedding, which was an elaborate one.

Thomas and Margaret had one daughter, Kathryn Irene Oyler. The family moved to Brookfield, Missouri, where, over time, Dr. Oyler became a chiropractor, superintendent of schools, and then mayor. Sadly, Margaret Elizabeth Oyler passed away unexpectedly on October 8, 1924, at the age of 39. She’s buried in the Rose Hill Cemetery.

There were several possibilities for the person writing this postcard, with the initials J.G., yet I could never positively identify which one.

QUINCY, KANSAS

“Today, Quincy is considered an unincorporated ghost town community.”

Quincy, Kansas, is a small unincorporated community located in Greenwood County, in the southeastern part of the state. While never a large city, Quincy’s story is reflective of many rural Midwestern communities: one of settlement, development, and gradual change, shaped by agriculture, transportation, and local enterprise.

Quincy was established in the late 1860s, during a period of rapid expansion in Kansas as settlers moved westward following the Civil War. The town was named after Quincy, Illinois, which in turn was named for John Quincy Adams, the sixth President of the United States. Like many towns of the era, Quincy was intended to serve as a local trading and supply center for farmers and ranchers moving into the region.

Greenwood County itself was organized in 1855, and the land that became Quincy was originally inhabited by various Native American tribes before white settlers arrived. The availability of fertile farmland, along with the Homestead Act of 1862, encouraged families to establish homesteads in the region.

Quincy grew as a rural hub, with its own post office established in 1869—a critical lifeline for communication and commerce in 19th-century Kansas. The community had a general store, blacksmith shop, schoolhouse, and, at times, a church, serving the needs of its residents and surrounding farms.

In 1898, two strangers rode into Quincy. They put out a notice that they wanted to talk to Bud Gillette. Finding him, they challenged Bud to a foot race. Gillette was known as one of the fastest runners in the country.

As word spread, the race was on, with most townspeople placing their bets on the local boy. One of the strangers held the betting money, while the other openly bragged about how he was going to beat Gillette.

Some farmers even sold their cows to have extra money for wagering. The race began on the appointed day. The runners were racing toward a hedgerow on the course when they both jumped over it and ran to a waiting motor car driven by the shyster holding the race purse.

The crooks disappeared from sight only to be eventually caught. Apparently, Bud Gillette was a participant in the scam from the git go. There was no winner, yet there were many losers that day.

Unlike some Kansas towns, Quincy did not benefit from a direct railroad connection. Railroads were instrumental in the growth of many towns, but Quincy’s relative isolation limited its potential for rapid expansion. Nonetheless, it persisted as a close-knit agricultural community.

The 20th century brought significant changes to Quincy and similar communities. Agricultural mechanization reduced the need for large rural populations, and many small towns saw their populations decline as families moved to larger cities in search of economic opportunity. Quincy’s post office closed in 1975, marking the end of an era for the community.

Despite the decline in businesses and population, the community identity remained strong. The surrounding area continued to be used for farming and ranching, and the legacy of Quincy lived on in the memories of its residents and their descendants.

Today, Quincy is considered an unincorporated ghost town community. Few, if any, businesses remain, and much of what once made up the town has reverted to farmland or open space. However, Quincy’s place in the tapestry of Kansas history remains significant as an example of rural development, resilience, and the changing patterns of American settlement.

While Quincy, Kansas, may no longer be a bustling center of activity, its history is a testament to the challenges and triumphs of rural communities in the Midwest. From its founding in the 19th century to its quieter present, Quincy reflects the enduring spirit of those who settled and built communities across Kansas.

In 1911, David Artz of Halstead, Arizona, received a picture postcard featuring a main street photograph of Quincy on the front. The sender of the card was a man named Pearl. The interesting message reads as follows.

“Oct 2, 1911

Well I have not fell down and killed myself yet on these rocks yesterday. But surely thought I would drown yesterday where we forded the river. My cousins sure laughed at me. It is raining here this morning. Will go to Yates Center on Wednesday and come back Thurs. I think I will come home Saturday night but not sure. Thank you very much for the birthday card. Pearl”

Dave Armandus Artz was born on October 26, 1880. He probably didn’t know it at the time, but he’d eventually marry the sender of his postcard. Pearl Dovie Dutton became his bride on January 31, 1915. They remained together until Dave died on November 4, 1952. Pearl passed away 29 years later on April 5, 1981, at the age of 91.

The Neosho River is probably the river Pearl was talking about in her writing. It’s fairly close to Quincy. Pearl and her cousins must have been traveling on foot for her to mention tripping over rocks. She would’ve only been 22 at this time. Dave was 31. The couple eventually left Kansas for Texas, taking along their two children, Marjie and Ralph.

FAMILY TIES

“I always had good communication with my parents and brother after we went our separate ways.”

My mother occasionally talked about her family, using the words, family ties, in a conversation. I seldom hear this term anymore, with families perhaps not as close as they were back in the day. I can’t say that about all because I believe ours is, for the most part.

Family ties refer to the strong connections and relationships that exist among members of a family. These bonds are often based on shared experiences, love, support, and a sense of belonging, which help keep family members united across generations and through life’s challenges.

Countries with the strongest family ties are often found in regions where extended families play a central role in daily life and cultural traditions. For example, nations in Southern Europe, such as Italy, Spain, and Greece, are well known for their close-knit family structures, with multiple generations living nearby and frequent family gatherings.

Similarly, many countries in Latin America, such as Mexico and Brazil, emphasize family loyalty and support, with strong intergenerational bonds remaining a cornerstone of social life.

In parts of Asia, including India, China, and the Philippines, family ties are also deeply valued, with respect for elders and communal decision-making being common practices.

These cultures often prioritize family obligations above individual pursuits, fostering a sense of unity and mutual support among relatives. The Western world, which includes the United States and Canada, appears to lack the same close family bonds as other regions.

My mother had four sisters. One of them, Opal, died in 1930 at age one. Cazaree was only 21 when she passed away from leukemia in 1948. The other two, Katrulia and Flavius, lived long, bountiful lives. Perhaps the death of Opal and Cazaree is why my mom and the other siblings remained so close.

If they weren’t writing each other letters, they were sending postcards. In the 1960s through 1970s, long-distance phone calls from Alaska to Alabama could be expensive. Mom devised a way to let her sisters know that all was okay without spending a dime. She’d dial and let the other phone ring twice before hanging up.

As time went on, the phone rates went down. At this point, they’d talk to each other for hours. I don’t know what they found to yak about. Mom and her siblings had their disagreements, yet that never stopped them from communicating.

I suppose you could say that their family ties overrode any hostility. Mom believed in following the Bible verse, Ephesians 4:26. Simplified in my own words, this verse means, “Before the sun sets, let peace rise.” I especially like that verse because of the numbers alone. Only a few close friends will get the meaning here.

I always had good communication with my parents and brother after we went our separate ways. I try to talk to Jim at least once a month, if not more. We email, as I don’t text and never will. My fingers are too big to touch the right keys. Mom would be proud that our family ties, which she so expected, have not wavered.

I try to keep the same going with my two grown children and five grandchildren. It’s tough because they all have active lives, and we live too far away for weekly visits. I tune in to our grandson, Decker’s, hockey games when they’re live-streamed, always rooting for him and the Eden Prairie Eagles.

I’ve also watched several of the grandchildren’s school and church programs on the internet. Perhaps that separation in distance has made our family ties that much stronger, much like Mom and her sisters.

Hopefully, Gunnar and Kay, along with Miranda and Dennis, including grandchildren, Kevin, Grace, Decker, Reece, and Mykah, adhere to Ephesians 4:26 should conflict ever come between any of them. “Never let the sun go down without resolving a family conflict.”

Their departed grandmas, Bonnie and Tallulah, would wish the same!

Family differences are being settled before nightfall

BROWNELL, KANSAS, DEMISE

“Brownell is on my list of places to see.”

I decided to do a postcard story on Brownell, Kansas, even though the 1910 postcard I have access to was never used. The history of the place is quite interesting, as it’s now a ghost town with around 23 people living there.

A black and white picture on the front of the card shows a bank and store building with nicely dressed townspeople walking in the dirt. I was able to find a photograph of that same location today. The change is quite significant.

Brownell, Kansas, is a small rural community nestled in Ness County, in the western part of the state. Known for its quiet streets and close-knit atmosphere, Brownell offers a glimpse into the history and development of rural America.

Brownell was founded in the early 20th century, during a period of westward expansion and rural development in Kansas. The town was officially established in 1880 as a stop along the Missouri Pacific Railroad, which played a pivotal role in its initial growth.

The original settlers were primarily farmers and ranchers, drawn to the area by the promise of fertile land and access to transportation. The town was named after a railroad official, J.M. Brownell, reflecting the influence of the rail industry on its origins.

The founding of Brownell was driven by the need to support agricultural communities and provide a hub for trade and communication. Early settlers built homes, businesses, and community institutions, including schools and churches, laying the foundation for the town’s future.

During its first decades, Brownell experienced steady growth as the railroad brought new residents and opportunities. The construction of grain elevators, general stores, and other businesses supported local agriculture and ranching, which remained the backbone of the community’s economy. Infrastructure development included roads connecting Brownell to neighboring towns, further integrating it into the regional economy.

Population growth peaked in the early 1900s, with the town serving as a local center for education, commerce, and social life. The establishment of a post office in 1880 provided essential services and helped solidify Brownell’s status as a community hub.

Brownell has witnessed several notable events throughout its history. The arrival of the railroad marked a turning point, transforming the settlement into a thriving town.

During the Dust Bowl era of the 1930s, Brownell, like many rural Kansas communities, faced severe challenges as drought and economic hardship affected residents. Despite these difficulties, the community persevered, adapting to changing agricultural practices and fluctuating markets.

Other significant moments include the consolidation of local schools and the closure of the Brownell post office in 1967, which reflected broader trends of rural depopulation and economic change in the region.

The demographic profile of Brownell has evolved over time. In its early years, the town’s population consisted mainly of farming families of European descent. As agricultural mechanization increased and economic opportunities shifted, Brownell experienced a gradual population decline, a trend common to many small towns in Kansas.

Census data from the mid-20th century onward shows a steady decrease in residents, with younger generations often moving to urban areas in search of employment and education. Today, Brownell is characterized by a small, aging population, with a strong sense of community and tradition. Younger people have flocked to the larger cities.

Agriculture has always been the cornerstone of Brownell’s economy. Wheat, corn, and livestock production provided the primary sources of income for local families. Over time, changes in farming technology and market conditions led to larger, more efficient farms and a reduction in the number of small family operations.

The decline of rail service and closure of local businesses further impacted the economy, leading to a reliance on regional centers for goods and services. Despite these challenges, Brownell’s agricultural heritage remains a source of pride and resilience for its residents.

Brownell’s history is enriched by the contributions of its residents. While the town has not produced widely known figures, many local leaders, educators, and business owners have played vital roles in shaping the community. The original Brownell schoolhouse, bank, churches, and grain elevators are among the town’s historic landmarks, symbolizing its enduring agricultural roots.

The nearby Ness County countryside offers scenic vistas and historic farmsteads, providing a tangible link to the town’s past. Local events, such as community gatherings and celebrations, continue to foster a sense of identity and belonging.

Today, Brownell is a quiet rural community with a small population. While many of its original institutions have closed or consolidated, the town remains a testament to the resilience of rural America. Residents maintain strong ties to their agricultural heritage and enjoy the peace and camaraderie of country living.

Community life in Brownell is marked by neighborly support, shared traditions, and a commitment to preserving the town’s history. Although challenges persist, Brownell’s legacy endures through the stories and memories of its people.

Brownell, Kansas, stands as a representative example of the rise and transformation of rural communities in the American Midwest. From its founding as a railroad town to its present-day status as a small agricultural community, Brownell’s history reflects broader trends in settlement, development, and adaptation.

The town’s enduring legacy is found in its people, landmarks, and the spirit of resilience that continues to define its character. Brownell is on my list of places to see.

WOODRUFF, KANSAS, BLUES

“Mabel Parker lived in Woodruff.”

Woodruff is an unincorporated community located in Phillips County, in the northwestern part of Kansas. Like many small towns in rural America, Woodruff has a unique history and character that reflects the broader patterns of settlement and development in the Great Plains.

A region known for its rolling prairies and agricultural heritage, the community is situated near the Nebraska border, making it part of a network of small towns that historically supported farming and ranching in the area.

Woodruff was established during the late 19th century, a period when many small towns and settlements sprang up throughout Kansas as the railroad expanded and agriculture flourished.

The town once had its own post office, which was established in 1882 and operated until it was discontinued in 1990. This post office served as a hub for the local community, connecting residents to the wider world.

As an unincorporated community, Woodruff does not have a municipal government or defined boundaries like a city or town would. The population of Woodruff has fluctuated over the years, following broader trends of rural depopulation as people moved to larger towns and cities for economic opportunities.

Today, Woodruff remains a quiet, rural area surrounded by farmland, where residents enjoy a peaceful lifestyle typical of small-town Kansas. There are 13 people currently living in Woodruff.

Mabel Parker lived in Woodruff. A postcard she received in 1912, from a nameless sender, postmarked in Alma, on April 1, was quite serious in nature to some, yet humorous to others. The picture on front shows a young lady sitting with her back to a tree. She’s evidently having relationship problems because the nomenclature on this card says:

“After the quarrel: Ah! I thought he would return. I hear his footsteps.”

Someone wrote in pencil underneath that:

“Live in hopes he will.

The footsteps the gal hears are actually those of a donkey.

Mabel Emma Parker was born on August 6, 1881, in Fort Scott, Kansas. Her parents were Howard and Elizabeth Parker. The quarrel Mabel might’ve been having was evidently resolved, because she married William Sherman Low on November 11, 1913.

A write-up on the wedding in a Fort Scott newspaper overflowed with grand detail on the event. Mabel was described as having blond hair and being very beautiful. The lone photo I found of her confirms that.

William Sherman Parker and his wife, Mabel, had three children. She died on December 18, 1964, in Los Angeles, California, at the age of 83.

Woodruff, Kansas, still survives, but seems to be on life support.

KICKS

“When I first met my future wife, I didn’t have the financial means to woo her like some guys could.”

A 1966 song by Paul Revere & the Raiders. “Kicks” was one of my favorites and still is. I never really knew what kicks they were singing about, yet the beat alone was uplifting. That tune made #4 on the USA Billboard chart of that year.

Wondering what my AI (artificial intelligence) personal assistant, Miss Purdy, had to say about kicks, I asked her.

“In the context of the song ‘Kicks’ by Paul Revere & the Raiders, the term ‘kicks’ refers to thrills, excitement, or short-lived pleasures—often associated with risky behaviors or experimentation, especially with drugs or rebellious activities.

The song’s message is cautionary, urging listeners not to chase fleeting highs or “kicks” at the expense of long-term well-being. So, the lyrics are essentially a warning about the dangers of seeking quick thrills to fill an emotional void.”

Miss Purdy, for being so young, is quite insightful in her explanation. I wasn’t one to seek kicks in the bad sense of the word, yet I did more on the lines of getting my kicks on Route 66. That term is quite popular here in Arizona. Desiring to know the full meaning of this line, once again, I turned to my Girl Friday, Miss Purdy.

“To ‘get your kicks on Route 66’ means to have fun, enjoy yourself, and experience adventure while traveling along the famous Route 66 highway. The phrase was popularized by the classic song “Get Your Kicks on Route 66” by the King Cole Trio.

This hit tune celebrates the freedom and excitement of road-tripping across America on such an iconic route. It’s about savoring the journey, discovering new places, and making memories along the way.”

When I first met my future wife, I didn’t have the financial means to woo her like some guys could. I had to rely upon creative romancing and the ability to take Joleen to McDonald’s for a meal, and on simple sightseeing trips in Alaska, much like the Route 66 definition of kicks.

Our second date was a drive to Bird Creek, where we walked the railroad tracks while holding hands. We both had fun as it was one of those beautiful Alaskan summer evenings. This was in October, and it was just starting to get chilly.

An indicator of things to come in my life, and I didn’t know it at the time, was on the front cover of my 1972 East High yearbook. It featured railroad tracks trailing off into the distance. I didn’t see the connection until just recently.

With an early snowfall in 1973, I gave her a trip on my snowmachine through a part of the back country of Anchorage, along with portions of the city itself, somewhat illegally at this time, although in previous years it wasn’t.

To me, that’s what made this date even more exciting. Joleen didn’t think as I did, wondering if we’d get in trouble.

Since that time, we still do simple things to get our kicks. Hiking the desert, walking in Rotary Park here in Havasu, are two activities we take part in, although, since falling off a ladder, the lingering pain has temporarily slowed me down.

Before closing here, in the Paul Revere & the Raiders song, there’s one line that goes like this.

“Kicks just keep getting’ harder to find.”

That might be true for some, but not for my wife and me. The only thing that’ll slow us down is bodily ills. Seventy-one years have taught me this much: the most valuable thing a person can have next to salvation is their health.

Exactly where we walked in 1973 – Photo by Dave Blazejewski

TALMAGE, KANSAS, DILEMMA

“During the early days, in rural Kansas, settlers relied upon wood, coal, and buffalo chips to burn for heat.”

When I lived in Alaska, I recall one winter in the 1980s when the winds caused a widespread power outage, including our neighborhood, that lasted for several days.

We still had natural gas to run the furnace, but no electricity to turn on the blower fan. Thankfully, I had a small generator installed the summer before to run it, including the refrigerator, lights, and even a television set.

During the early days, in rural Kansas, settlers relied upon wood, coal, and buffalo chips to burn for heat. Buffalo chips are remnants of buffalo dung containing mostly grass. These chips were gathered up in the summer when it dried out.

The winter of 1909 – 1910 was an especially bad one, lasting through March. Wood must’ve been scarce, with buffalo chips no longer found. The beastly animals been pretty much killed off by then. A postcard mailed from Talmage, Kansas, to Mr. Walter School in Lawrence highlights the trouble a couple of guys were having rounding up coal. I transcribed it as written:

“Sam and I came to Talmage looking for coal and every body is out so we will have to go on to Manchester. You will have to excuse writing as my hand is numb. We just now got here. We got 42 + 3 cottons coming to town. I will be home when I return so don’t look for me.”

There was no signature to the letter, and I had to do some digging in an attempt to find out who Sam and the other guy were. More on that later. Talmage, Kansas, is a place where I’ve been several times, but I know little about it.

It’s a small unincorporated community located in Dickinson County in the central part of the state. Established in the late 19th century, Talmage owes its origin to the expansion of the railroad, which played a significant role in shaping many rural Kansas towns.

The arrival of the railroad brought new opportunities for settlers, allowing local farmers and ranchers to transport their goods to broader markets. Over the years, Talmage became a modest hub for agricultural commerce, supporting grain elevators, general stores, and a post office that served the surrounding farming community.

While the population has remained small, Talmage has witnessed the evolution of rural life in Kansas, from the era of buffalo chips and coal heating to the modernization brought by electricity and improved infrastructure.

The town’s resilience can be seen in stories like the winter of 1909-1910, when settlers struggled to find fuel and faced harsh conditions, relying on resourcefulness and community ties to get through difficult times. The winter of 1912 was even tougher.

Today, Talmage stands as a testament to the perseverance of Kansas’ rural communities and their ability to adapt to changing times.

Walter Adam Schaal was born in Abilene, Kansas, on April 14, 1888. His parents were Adam and Elizabeth Schaal. Walter attended business college in Lawrence, Douglas County, and worked there afterwards in the banking industry.

On June 25, 1919, he married Goldie Fern Hyre, with no record of children. Walter passed away at the age of 70 on December 2, 1958. He’s buried in Lawrence. Goldie Fern Schaal died on February 26, 1974. She was 83.

Try as I did, I could not identify Roy, one of the two people searching for coal. I assume the travelers were friends of Walter, from Abilene, and knew that their pal would be concerned after not hearing from them.

The winter of 1909 – 1910 resulted in considerable snow, so it’s logical they eventually had to hunker down somewhere until the storm passed. Abilene is 11 miles from Talmage, with Manchester only 8 miles away, but either town would be quite a journey via horse and wagon in frigid weather.

If that was 45 pounds of cotton they were also picking up, the two guys could’ve sheltered under it.

ST. PETER, KANSAS

“There aren’t many people living in St. Peter today, with the latest count showing 47.”

The earliest white settlers to Kansas came by covered wagon, settling in places close to water and having fertile ground to plant their crops. A postcard mailed from St. Peter, Kansas, to Jamestown, Kansas, in 1910, was sent by one of these earliest pioneers. The message this elderly woman wrote in shaky handwriting was very simple:

“I am getting along OK. I was up last night. R.L.”

The card recipient is Mrs. E.M. Taylor. She, too, was an early-day Kansas resident and one of the first families in Cloud County. I had no problem identifying Taylor, but the two initials took some Dick Tracy sleuthing to solve.

I finally nailed things down with only two people having those initials in the St. Peter area. One of them had died before 1910. I’ll fill you in on Mrs. E.M. Harris and R.L. after telling a bit about the towns they lived closest to.

Hoganville, or St. Peter, Kansas, is a small rural community located in Graham County in the northwestern part of the state. Like many towns in western Kansas, its history is deeply intertwined with the expansion of the American frontier during the late nineteenth century.

The area that would become Hoganville was settled by European immigrants, primarily of German-Russian origin, who were drawn to the region by the prospect of agricultural opportunities and the availability of land following the Homestead Act of 1862.

The community was officially established in the late 1800s, named Hoganville, with the founding of a Catholic parish—St. Peter’s Church—serving as the focal point for the settlement. The church provided not only spiritual guidance but also a sense of identity and unity for the early settlers.

As more families arrived, the town developed around the church, with homes, a school, and essential businesses forming the nucleus of the community. Hoganville was eventually changed to St. Peter.

In its early years, St. Peter thrived as an agricultural center. Wheat, corn, and other crops were cultivated, and farming remained the backbone of the local economy. The town’s population consisted mainly of farming families, and daily life revolved around the rhythms of planting and harvest, church services, and communal events. The schoolhouse played a vital role in educating the children of the area, preparing them for both farm life and the broader world.

St. Peter’s residents maintained strong cultural ties to their European roots, especially through religious festivals, traditional foods, and language. The community’s German-Russian heritage influenced everything from church architecture to holiday celebrations. Social gatherings, often centered around the church or school, provided opportunities for neighbors to support one another and foster a sense of camaraderie.

Like many rural communities in Kansas, St. Peter faced challenges such as droughts, economic downturns, and the gradual migration of younger generations to urban areas.

Over time, improvements in transportation and technology changed the way people lived and worked. As the population declined, some institutions—such as the local school—were consolidated or closed, but the church often remained as a symbol of continuity.

Today, St. Peter is a quiet, close-knit community that continues to honor its heritage. While the population is smaller than in its early days, the legacy of the original settlers endures through the enduring presence of St. Peter’s Church and the memories of generations who called the town home. St. Peter stands as a testament to the perseverance and faith of rural Kansans and remains a cherished part of Graham County’s history.

Jamestown, Kansas, located in Cloud County, was established in the late 19th century during a period of rapid settlement throughout north-central Kansas. The town was officially founded in 1878 and named after James P. Pomeroy, an early settler and prominent figure in the area’s development. Like St. Peter, Jamestown quickly grew as families arrived to farm the fertile prairie lands, with wheat and corn becoming staple crops that supported the local economy.

The construction of the railroad was a pivotal moment for Jamestown, boosting commerce and helping the town thrive as a center for trade and agriculture. The community developed around institutions such as churches, schools, and small businesses, all of which played vital roles in shaping daily life. Residents of Jamestown often gathered for social events, religious festivals, and communal activities, fostering a strong sense of unity and shared heritage.

Throughout its history, Jamestown faced challenges typical of rural Kansas, including droughts, fluctuating crop prices, and a gradual decline in population as younger generations moved to urban centers in search of new opportunities.

Despite these difficulties, the town has remained resilient, adapting to changes in technology and transportation. Today, Jamestown continues to honor its agricultural roots and community spirit, standing as a testament to the perseverance of its residents and the enduring legacy of small-town Kansas.

Mrs. E.M. Harris was Hulda Sarah Beatty-Harris. Her husband was Edwin Maxwell. Edwin, born in 1848 in Mansfield, Ohio, came to Kansas in 1871 with his brother. In 1874, Edwin married Hulda Sarah.

The newlyweds moved to the Jamestown area in 1878. Like most settlers, they undoubtedly lived in a sod house at first until finally constructing a simple one of wood.

Despite the hardships inflicted upon them by drought, weather, and pests such as grasshoppers eating their crops, the couple endured, raising six children. Edwin Harris was out working in his garden one day with one of his daughters when he fell dead of apoplexy or a cerebral hemorrhage. The most common name, stroke, is most often used here. This incident happened on April 3, 1906. Edwin’s buried in the Fairview Cemetery.

Edwin’s wife, Hulda, was born on September 9, 1844, in West Virginia, before her family relocated to Iowa. It was only five years later, on May 4, 1911, that she too passed away, leaving the children to run the farm. This was only one year after receiving the postcard.

R.L. is Rachel Bennett Lank. Several history books show it as Lang, but they’re incorrect. Rachel was married to Elza Samuel Lank. Elza was born on September 28, 1856, in Dallas, Iowa. He married Rachelle Bennett somewhere around 1883. The Lank’s are on a list of the first white settlers coming to the Hoganville/St. Peter’s area. An Iowa connection is probably how the Taylors and Lank’s knew each other.

Rachel was born in Dunkirk, Ohio, in October 1857, although the exact date is unknown. She died on April 8,1936, at the age of 79, while her husband, Elza, had passed 12 years earlier, on April 21, 1924. The couple had four children, two of them died during their early years: Blanche at two years of age and Kenneth at three.

There aren’t many people living in St. Peter today, with the latest count showing 47. There are a few vacant and crumbling buildings left, including the St. Anthony Catholic Church. A once beautiful building, neglect, and a leaking roof have doomed the structure.

Unless the St. Anthony Church of St. Peter Preservation Society is successful, it will eventually be razed like hundreds of other Kansas churches of all denominations have suffered. Should that happen, all that will be left of this town are memories and a few picture postcards.

St. Anthony Catholic Church – St. Peter, Kansas

CARNIERO, KANSAS

“The history of Carniero revolves around sheep.”

A postcard sent by Myrtle Harris on May 15, 2015, to her friend, Effie Bruck, in Wilson, Kansas, has three Kansas town connections. On the front of the card is an unusual saying,

“You won’t be bashful long if you come to Carniero, Kansas. It’s a sure cure.”

There’s a humorous picture at the bottom showing a young fellow dressed to the hilt attempting to kiss or hug some young gal. She’s smiling, so all must be okay. This card was postmarked and mailed from Kanopolis, Kansas. Carniero is only 11 miles from Kanopolis and 30 miles from Wilson. These three towns were all connected by rail.

Kanopolis is a small village-like locale located in Ellsworth County, in the central part of the state. Known today for its proximity to Kanopolis Lake and the scenic Smoky Hill region, Kanopolis has a rich and unique history shaped by its role in the development of the American Midwest.

The area that would become Kanopolis was originally inhabited by Native American tribes, including the Pawnee and Kansa. In the mid-19th century, settlers began moving into central Kansas, attracted by the opportunities presented by the Homestead Act and the promise of fertile land.

Kanopolis was officially founded in the late 1800s, with its plat filed in 1886. The city was named after the state (“Kan”) and the Greek word ‘polis’ meaning city, symbolizing aspirations for growth and civic pride.

The arrival of the Union Pacific Railroad was a pivotal moment in Kanopolis’ history. The city became a hub for commerce and transportation, serving as a shipping point for agricultural products, cattle, and supplies. The railroad also spurred population growth and the development of new businesses, schools, and churches.

In the mid-20th century, the construction of Kanopolis Dam and Lake transformed the area into a popular recreational destination. Built by the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers and completed in 1948, Kanopolis Lake offers fishing, boating, camping, and hiking opportunities, contributing to the city’s identity and local economy.

I’m not familiar with Kanopolis, but I am with Wilson, stopping there several times to pick up jars of their local honey.

Wilson is located approximately 30 miles from Kanopolis, a small town with its own distinct and vibrant history. Established in the late 1860s, Wilson became known as the “Czech Capital of Kansas” due to the significant number of Czech immigrants who settled in the area, bringing with them their cultural traditions and community spirit.

The town’s growth was closely tied to the expansion of the railroad, which made Wilson an important stop for commerce and transportation in central Kansas.

Throughout its history, Wilson has maintained a strong agricultural base, with farming and ranching serving as the backbone of its economy. The community is also celebrated for hosting the annual After Harvest Czech Festival, which honors the town’s heritage with music, food, and traditional festivities.

Today, Wilson is recognized for its historic limestone architecture, friendly atmosphere, and commitment to preserving its unique cultural legacy. Effie Bruck evidently went to school in Wilson, while the postcard sender, Myrtle Harris, attended a Kanopolis school. The two girls only lived 21 miles apart.

I’m very familiar with Carniero, Kansas, having spent some time there photographing the old buildings. It’s a ghost town these days and has been for quite a while. In the 1990s, the Carniero School was in good shape, with someone living there.

Today, the roof has caved in and is no longer inhabitable. A photograph I came across shows a large owl looking out of a classroom window. The history of Carniero revolves around sheep.

Carniero is a small, now-abandoned place with a history closely tied to agriculture, particularly sheep ranching. In its early years, Carniero thrived as a rural community, with its residents engaged primarily in raising sheep and supporting related agricultural activities.

Over time, however, population decline and changes in the agricultural industry led to Carneiro’s gradual abandonment, turning it into a ghost town. The only thing left of it are those old buildings, a cemetery, and a few mementoes like Effie Bruck’s postcard. Effie’s friend, Myrtle Harris, must’ve picked the card up while stopping in Carniero.

Myrtle Mae Harris was born in Empire, Kansas, in 1902, to parents Marida and Katie. She attended various schools during her early life, including the one in Kanopolis, where she finished her education in the 8th grade. Myrtle had eight siblings. The fledgling teenager was 13 in 1915 when mailed her card.

Myrtle Mae married Clifford B. Lindquist in 1921, moving to Ellsworth, Kansas, where “Cliff” was a farming implement salesman. It appears the couple divorced around 1940, with Myrtle resuming her maiden name. Myrtle Mae Harris died in 1990 at the age of 88. She is buried in Brookville Cemetery with a majority of her family.

Myrtle misspelled the last name of her friend. It’s Effie Brack instead of Bruck. Effie was born on April 13, 1903, to George and Elizabeth Brack. Like her friend, Myrtle, she also came from a large family, having 6 siblings. Effie was 12 when she received Myrtle’s postcard.

In 1919, at the age of 16, Effie married Emanuel Schlegel, who was a farmer. The couple had three children. When Emanuel passed away in 1957, Effie wed G.C. “Willie” Clymer. Effie died in 1967 at the age of 64. She’s buried in Garden City.

Returning to the postcard that Myrtle sent Effie, with Carniero identified during my research as a sheep town, I couldn’t help but think of a more fitting saying regarding shyness than the one used. Mine would read like this:

“You won’t be baaa-ashful long if you come to Carniero, Kansas. It’s a sure cure.”

MOTORING ALONG

“The Coachlight has left a lasting impression on all who have passed through its doors.”

My wife and I enjoy driving the back roads and trails of Arizona, searching for interesting things to see and places to eat. Our Jeep is currently enabling us to comb the desert in comfort, not having to breathe dust like the open-cab ATV, which is a big plus. Desert dust is bad for the lungs, with desert fever a possibility.

Arizona is a great place for tooling around the country, but I like investigating Kansas just as much. The small towns there are full of old buildings to snap pictures of, with the people generally polite and nice. Heeding “No Trespassing” warnings while on their turf keeps them happy.

Some of the best places to eat are the mom-and-pop diners. Alta Vista has a good one, as does Simpson. Trapper House restaurant in Simpson serves the best ribeye steak I’ve ever had, next to the ones my friend, Tom Doupe, grills. The building is nostalgic, which adds to the ambiance. A restaurant in Longford tops them all in my book.

Nestled in the heart of Longford, the Coachlight Restaurant has served as a beloved dining destination and a social hub for both locals and travelers. Over the years, it has become more than just a place to eat; it stands as a testament to small-town hospitality, tradition, and community spirit.

The Coachlight Restaurant was established in 1976, during a period of growth and optimism in rural Kansas. The governor was there during the opening. Its founders sought to create a welcoming environment where families and friends could gather for hearty home-cooked meals.

The restaurant’s name, “Coachlight,” evoked an era of horse-drawn coaches and the warm glow of lanterns, reflecting its commitment to traditional values and comfort.

From its inception, the Coachlight became a gathering place for Longford residents and others. It hosted countless celebrations—birthdays, anniversaries, and community meetings. The restaurant’s staff, often local residents themselves, fostered close relationships with regular customers, further cementing its role as a community anchor.

The Coachlight Restaurant is renowned for its classic American fare, including fried chicken, homemade pies, and generous breakfast platters. Recipes were often passed down through generations, and the menu reflected the agricultural heritage of the region.

Seasonal specials and local ingredients ensured that the offerings remained fresh and relevant. People also come there from throughout the world, as I can attest to. I thumbed through their guestlist one evening and saw several from Canada.

Like many rural establishments, the Coachlight faced challenges over the decades, including economic downturns and changes in dining trends. However, through adaptability and the steadfast support of the Longford community, the restaurant continued to thrive. Renovations and updates to the dining area were made while preserving the charm and character that patrons cherished.

Today, the Coachlight Restaurant is remembered as a symbol of Longford’s heritage and resilience. For many, it evokes fond memories of family gatherings and friendly conversations. Even as times change, the spirit of the Coachlight lives on in the collective memory of Longford and continues to inspire pride in the community.

The history of the Coachlight Restaurant is intertwined with the story of Longford itself—a chronicle of tradition, perseverance, and the enduring power of shared meals. Whether through its inviting atmosphere or its home-style cuisine, the Coachlight has left a lasting impression on all who have passed through its doors.

The year 2026 marks the 50th anniversary of its opening. Our plans are to help them celebrate, while also celebrating my brother-in-law’s long-awaited retirement. I believe Calvin’s been with the United States Post Office for over 40 years. Hopefully, we can make a month of it.

While plans for next summer are currently being put on the calendar, we’ve still got lots of places to see and things to do this year in Arizona, with Skinny Al’s on our current list of places to eat, along with Roadkill Café. Of course, we pray daily that our health allows us to keep motoring along, as well as the same for our family and friends.