Colorado woman recalls taking care of milk cows and a heifer on her family farm
In the 1930s my folks lived on two different family farms just three miles north of Denver.
I was 10 or 11 when my dad would turn old Bossie and her yearling heifer calf out on the country road to graze all day. Towards evening she would head back home, but to hurry her up, I would have to go after her. After a few tries, I had gotten Daisy the heifer tamed so I could get on and ride her home.
Later, when I was 12 to 18, I worked in the fields with Dad until dark most days. After work, I would leave to walk a mile or so out in the pasture for the four or five milk cows. I always took my big, old yellow tomcat. He would follow along meowing and talking to me as we went. At times he would stop and sniff a gopher hole. Then, all of a sudden, he would come running past me, and then stop to wait for me. I don't know why, but I was never afraid of the dark as long as I had Tommy with me.
Theresa Stingerie Bainbridge
La Salle, Colorado
Back in 1955 a call went out from the editors of the then Capper’s Weekly asking for readers to send in articles on true pioneers. Hundreds of letters came pouring in from early settlers and their children, many now in their 80s and 90s, and from grandchildren of settlers, all with tales to tell. So many articles were received that a decision was made to create a book, and in 1956, the first My Folks title – My Folks Came in a Covered Wagon – hit the shelves. Nine other books have since been published in the My Folks series, all filled to the brim with true tales from Capper’s readers, and we are proud to make those stories available to our growing online community.
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