Outhouse Ruins Fourth of July Plans

The family car disappeared down the lane on the way to the big Fourth of July celebration at the county seat, leaving the two daughters of the family waiting for their young men to call for them.

The girls decided to make a final trip “down the path.” No more had they reached their destination than their swains roared in.

“If we had just come right on out,” they wailed later. “But we were embarrassed. And the longer we waited, the more impossible it was!”

So, peeking through a crack in the door, they watched as their escorts went to the house repeatedly to knock on the door, then returned to the car to wait.

Minutes dragged on. The heat was stifling. Finally, after a last trip to the door, the Model T drove off in a cloud of dust, and the wilted, tearful girls crept out. Not only did they miss the long anticipated Fourth of July celebration, but they had to think up a plausible explanation. Of course they had a long quiet day in which to do this.

The truth has never been told till now.

Ruth Boellstorff
Brock, Nebraska

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.