One of my grandfathers was a Confederate soldier, who was captured and taken to prison. In a few months, he was offered his freedom if he would swear allegiance to the Constitution and promise never to take up arms against the federal government again. This he gladly did, but because of the guerrilla warfare, or “bushwhackers,” he was never able to go home. He lived in caves nearby until the end of the war. Grandmother would take corn bread and fried pork in a sack and put it up in a tree every few days for him to get when he came out. Once a big snow storm kept him in for several days. Grandmother managed to raise enough corn for cornmeal, and the hogs were fattened on mast (acorns).
Once the bushwhackers took the featherbed from the children’s bed, cut the corner and scattered feathers for miles down the road.
Mrs. John Reagan
Waverly, Kansas
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.
