I not only attended a one-room school, but I taught in the same one for the handsome wages of $50 per month, which was good wages in Nebraska in the “Dirty Thirties.”
One of my memories is of a big snow, several feet deep, accompanied by the usual bitter cold wind. When it was time for me to walk the mile to school, my mother insisted that my older brother accompany me to help build the fire in the coal heater and carry drinking water from the neighboring farmstead.
With the wind blowing, the snow developed a thick crust on top. It would support my 98 pounds, but would break under my 6 foot brother’s weight. He floundered hip-deep in the snow while I walked on top, so by the time we reached the schoolhouse he was exhausted and had to rest while I built the fire, carried water and scooped paths to the outdoor “sanitary facilities” – otherwise known as the outhouse.
Ft. Collins, 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.