The most embarrassing outhouse experience I had occurred when I was twelve years old. I was attending a little one-room rural school, where outhouses for boys and girls were discreetly erected some distance from each other, and also from the schoolhouse. It was during the noon recess. The students decided to play hide-and-seek. I had to pay a visit to the outhouse and my best friend, Louise, slipped in to hide in there. She watched through a crack while the boy who was "it" counted. When she saw her chance to get to base without getting caught, she flung the door wide and ran as fast as she could! Well, Louise happily made it to base without getting caught, but there I sat, on the throne, in full view of everybody. My skirt was not long enough to cover my bloomers, and I could not get up to close the door without exposing even more. All I could do was sit there, mortified, while all of the kids stared, and then went into hysterical fits of laughter. The girls doubled over from laughing so hard, and the boys rolled on the ground.
Finally, after what seemed like a century, Louise 'came back, slammed the door quickly, and beat a hasty retreat before I could get my clothes rearranged and take after her. I wonder why I was the only one who was not amused?
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.