Our sod house in our early days on a Colorado homestead had deep windows. Mother stored utensils and staple foods at one end of a windowsill near the stove, while Dad kept his tobacco in a coffee tin at the opposite end of the sill.
On one particular winter morning, he opened his tobacco tin.
“Where in thunder is my tobacco?” he growled. “Heaven sakes!” Mother gasped, as a nose-tingling odor wafted up from the coffeepot. “I made coffee out of your tobacco!”
For years, Dad told the story of Mother’s peculiar way of making coffee, but at the time he didn’t think it funny. He was “tobacco broke” and the store where he could buy a new supply was nine miles away at Arena, Colorado.
Irene Jackson
Kit Carson, 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.
