Soapweed
Well-known member
OLD SETTLERS REUNION memories by Vi Cady. This letter was handwritten by Vi Cady and given to Bob Moreland.
Copied by Steve Moreland, July 14, 2015
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Bob,
I think Harry Beck was the originator of Merriman's "Old Settlers Reunion." They didn't last long after he left town, either.
They always slow roasted a big cow in a pit. In my opinion, it was a wonderful meal. They served huge slices of meat on a bun and baked beans. I think they just had a lot of Campbell's pork and beans. They also had a huge kettle of soup. There were quite a lot of Indians present. I always understood it was supposed to be dog soup. My dad always went and ate soup with them.
There were always the carnival rides and all sorts of foot races and other activities and games going on.
The year of the huge rain was 1933. We always called it the year of the flood. It started pouring rain about 4 o'clock in the afternoon. Dad rounded us up—there were six of us kids—and we headed for home, which was south of the river. The road was then two trails—typical Sandhill roads. It had rained so hard there were many washed out places. We hit a washout, and in the process knocked the battery out of the car, so we were stalled.
John Malone, who was a neighbor, came along and offered help. Dad told Pearl and me to go along with them and get the cows in and milk them and do the chores.
We lived southeast of the Rockford Bridge. When we got to the Rockford hill it was so badly washed out we couldn't drive down it. We walked down to the bridge.
When we got down to the bridge, the river was really high. The water was up to about a foot below the floor of the bridge, which was about 12 to 14 feet above normal. The approach to the bridge was washed out. The washout was eight to ten feet deep and at least ten feet across. There wasn't any way to get to the bridge. We walked back up the hill to the car and went back to town. It was still raining.
Mom and Dad and my three younger brothers stayed at your grandparents' house. (I've always understood that your grandfather, Gary Fairhead, and my grandfather, Horace Gardner, walked from Valentine to Gordon about 1886. Valentine was the end of the railroad then. Your grandfather homesteaded on Pole Creek and mine settled northwest of Gordon.) I don't remember where my two sisters and I stayed—probably at our aunt's.
Next morning Dad got a new battery and got someone to take us to the car. We headed home again, this time by way of the Madison Bridge. When we got there, the water was about eight inches below the floor of the bridge. Huge trees, branches, and all sorts of garbage was floating down the river. The water was also going around the north end of the bridge. The land there was lower than the bridge. That water was around ten or twelve inches deep and 50 feet wide, but we crossed it and also the bridge. The river hill was washed out some, but we could get around the washed out places and up the hill.
We lived about six miles east. There were signs of more rain as we went east. At least 12 inches had fallen, and there had also been hail. Our roof had been riddled by hail. Everything in the house was soaked. Besides the hail, the water must have been at least on the level or above the floor of the house. Mom had a big wooden box full of blankets and quilts, and it was covered by a cowhide robe. We did have dry bedding, but our beds were soaked.
I got on a horse and went to look for the cows. They were north of the river. I rode up the river a ways—across from Frank Rathburn's and hollered. He came to the river bank, and I asked him to push the cows across the river or milk them. The cows heard me and came across on their own. I took them home, and we milked and milked—they hadn't been milked for two days. There were ten or twelve cows.
We slept in the granary in the corn and wheat bins for several nights while we dried our mattresses and the house.
The next year at the reunion they had square dancing on horseback in the streets. They had three sets of dancers. My older brother Ralph asked me to dance with him. I rode his horse, Slim. I really thought that was fun and one of my most pleasant memories. I remember all the reunions as very pleasant times.
Our name is spelled Gardner. Rich told me about you and him waking up in the same bed. Just thought this might be of interest.
Vi Cady
Copied by Steve Moreland, July 14, 2015
************************************************************************************
Bob,
I think Harry Beck was the originator of Merriman's "Old Settlers Reunion." They didn't last long after he left town, either.
They always slow roasted a big cow in a pit. In my opinion, it was a wonderful meal. They served huge slices of meat on a bun and baked beans. I think they just had a lot of Campbell's pork and beans. They also had a huge kettle of soup. There were quite a lot of Indians present. I always understood it was supposed to be dog soup. My dad always went and ate soup with them.
There were always the carnival rides and all sorts of foot races and other activities and games going on.
The year of the huge rain was 1933. We always called it the year of the flood. It started pouring rain about 4 o'clock in the afternoon. Dad rounded us up—there were six of us kids—and we headed for home, which was south of the river. The road was then two trails—typical Sandhill roads. It had rained so hard there were many washed out places. We hit a washout, and in the process knocked the battery out of the car, so we were stalled.
John Malone, who was a neighbor, came along and offered help. Dad told Pearl and me to go along with them and get the cows in and milk them and do the chores.
We lived southeast of the Rockford Bridge. When we got to the Rockford hill it was so badly washed out we couldn't drive down it. We walked down to the bridge.
When we got down to the bridge, the river was really high. The water was up to about a foot below the floor of the bridge, which was about 12 to 14 feet above normal. The approach to the bridge was washed out. The washout was eight to ten feet deep and at least ten feet across. There wasn't any way to get to the bridge. We walked back up the hill to the car and went back to town. It was still raining.
Mom and Dad and my three younger brothers stayed at your grandparents' house. (I've always understood that your grandfather, Gary Fairhead, and my grandfather, Horace Gardner, walked from Valentine to Gordon about 1886. Valentine was the end of the railroad then. Your grandfather homesteaded on Pole Creek and mine settled northwest of Gordon.) I don't remember where my two sisters and I stayed—probably at our aunt's.
Next morning Dad got a new battery and got someone to take us to the car. We headed home again, this time by way of the Madison Bridge. When we got there, the water was about eight inches below the floor of the bridge. Huge trees, branches, and all sorts of garbage was floating down the river. The water was also going around the north end of the bridge. The land there was lower than the bridge. That water was around ten or twelve inches deep and 50 feet wide, but we crossed it and also the bridge. The river hill was washed out some, but we could get around the washed out places and up the hill.
We lived about six miles east. There were signs of more rain as we went east. At least 12 inches had fallen, and there had also been hail. Our roof had been riddled by hail. Everything in the house was soaked. Besides the hail, the water must have been at least on the level or above the floor of the house. Mom had a big wooden box full of blankets and quilts, and it was covered by a cowhide robe. We did have dry bedding, but our beds were soaked.
I got on a horse and went to look for the cows. They were north of the river. I rode up the river a ways—across from Frank Rathburn's and hollered. He came to the river bank, and I asked him to push the cows across the river or milk them. The cows heard me and came across on their own. I took them home, and we milked and milked—they hadn't been milked for two days. There were ten or twelve cows.
We slept in the granary in the corn and wheat bins for several nights while we dried our mattresses and the house.
The next year at the reunion they had square dancing on horseback in the streets. They had three sets of dancers. My older brother Ralph asked me to dance with him. I rode his horse, Slim. I really thought that was fun and one of my most pleasant memories. I remember all the reunions as very pleasant times.
Our name is spelled Gardner. Rich told me about you and him waking up in the same bed. Just thought this might be of interest.
Vi Cady
