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?
Marie Swisher
Coldwater, 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.
