Horse charges at outhouse while it is occupied.
One evening after school when I was about to mount my horse to go home I noticed the owner of the barn, Mr. Stout, a man probably in his late sixties, was entering the outhouse that was a short distance from the barn. He had just about enough time to get well seated on the big hole when Joe, my horse, started backing like a runaway horse toward the gentleman in the outhouse, and before I knew what was happening there was a loud blast that sounded like crashing thunder after a big flash of lightning, and I could see the outhouse being raised up off the foundation with the old gentleman in it.
By the time I was in control we were already down the road heading for home. To tell you the truth I didn't know what to do -laugh or cry. I was so embarrassed that I didn't tell anyone for a long time, but the word did get around as there had been a witness. To this day I have wondered what Mr. Stout's reactions were and what he thought had happened.
Could it have been an earthquake in Wilmore, 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.
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