A barrel of crackers, a barrel of sorghum, a barrel of flour, a keg of kraut and some cured meat were some of the things we loaded into our two covered wagons in 1888 when we moved from Ohio to Arkansas where Father had bought a farm. We had three cows tied on behind and took our dog, Tige.
When we came through Indiana we stopped at a farm and asked if we could camp for the night. The farmer said we could, and Mother went about fixing supper. I was quite small and my older brothers thought it was funny for me to yell, "Hurray for Harrison!" He was a presidential candidate that year. I piped up with "Hurray for Harrison" in front of the farmer. The old fellow was very angry and ordered us to move on!
When we got to the place Father had bought, the rainy season had set in and the whole place was swampy. All of us took malaria, and one season was all we spent there.
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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