I thought I was going to have to spend the night in the outhouse, and I didn’t have my pillow or toothbrush, or any room service or telephone.
Our outhouse was far enough away from the house that no one could hear my calls when I got locked in.
Our four-year-old, unbeknownst to me, had snuck up and turned the board that we had nailed on for a lock. I yelled and kicked and shoved, all to no avail. I couldn’t believe I couldn’t get out of this predicament until someone missed me and came to my rescue.
At last my husband came outside, and I had climbed up on the seat and was wiggling my finger thru the half moon and yelling, trying to get his attention. He thought it was hilariously funny, and I did, too, after I got out. But I still didn’t want to make any future reservations.
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.