Indian Pioneer Papers - Index
Indian Pioneer
History Project for Oklahoma
Date: April 15, 1938
Name:
Henry Patterson
Post Office: , Oklahoma
Date of Birth:
Place of Birth:
Father:
Place of Birth:
Information on father:
Mother:
Place of birth:
Information on mother:
Anna R. BARRY, Journalist
Volume 111--microfiche
#6016976
This article was written
by Henry PATTERSON about a year before he passed away and was never
published in any newspaper.
"IT DID HAPPEN HERE".
I came to Oklahoma for
the “run”, just as many thousands of other hopeful persons from countless
states did, and was successful in obtaining a good claim. Unlike hundreds
of others, I didn’t get into the Territory, until the night before the
opening, so missed a lot of the attendant excitement. But with the
dawn of the great day that was to go down in history as the greatest of
all deals in real estate, there was sufficient excitement for everyone.
If I live to a hundred, I’ll never forget the feeling that coursed through
me when I awakened before daylight on that momentous day of days. Little
cold chills ran up and down my back, leaving goose pimples in their wake.
What a grand and wonderful opportunity is mine, was my first thought, and
as I watched the rosy hues of the rising sun I knew I should fin[d] in
this new land, not only a home, but my life’s work, the fulfillment of
my dreams. I have not been disappointed. The piece of land I was fortunate
in obtaining, was a very good bit of property and yielded a fine living,
although I didn’t live on it myself a great length of time. We remained
out there until the drawing of 1901, when I was again fortunate, in that
I was able to purchase, at a bargain, some town lots. The man who drew
this property received word from his home that he must come there at once,
and had not the money for the trip, so offered me his lots cheap, if I
would pay cash. This I was only too glad to do, and so became the possessor
of some of the most valuable lots in El Reno. My drug store stands on part
of that land today. It wasn’t long after this little business transaction,
that I conceived the idea of building a store on the location, and since
my people in the north had been in the drug business, I naturally turned
to that branch of industry myself, having had quite a bit of experience
along that line in my father’s store.
But to return to the day
of the “run”. I was in the fourth or fifth line from the front when the
signal rang out on the air and lost no time in getting under way. The surge
and roar of the moving hordes was like the noise of a great hurricane at
sea. It gave me the feeling that I was being carried along without will
or volition and that I might at any time be hurled to my death on some
rocky shore. There were as many behind me as in front, and I doubt very
much my ability to have stopped my mad flight, had I wished and tried;
neither would it have been possible for one to have turned back, once he
was on his way. There was but one course open—to go steadily onward. Some
of the old “89ers had a pretty tough time of it that first year, but we
progressed as well as we could have expected and far better than most.
We did not come out here broke, as so many others did. Well, if not
broke, a lot of people had barely enough capital to get them here and keep
them a few months or weeks. They were forced to depend almost entirely
on what they were able to raise those first few month of summer.
The opening years was an unusually good year, weather conditions were favorable
for crops, and everyone was thus enabled to realize wonderful results from
the gardens. Most all were able to raise all he needed for immediate consumption,
and in nearly every case, had an abundant surplus to can. I believe every
settler had countless sacks of dried corn, peas and beans stored away for
winter. By peas, I mean the old fashion cow pea and they made good eating
too, very nourishing and cheap. I think they are known now, as black-eyed
peas. We managed to raise enough corn so as to have meal for the following
winter, and I ate more corn bread at that time than ever before or since.
White flour was scarce and expensive, as no one was able to raise any wheat
that first summer, but we all put in plenty the first fall we were here,
so that the next winter, we had an abundance of white flour, too. We had
turnips, carrots, potatoes and cabbage all winter. Owning two good
milk cows, we were able to have milk and butter the year around. The following
spring, we purchased another cow, besides old Betsy gave birth to twin
heifer calves, making us feel that was an omen of good fortune. We had
a nice flock of chickens, too, so had all the eggs we could use, and even
quite a lot of fryers during the first summer. However, there were those
who did not fare so well, those who brought no stock with them, and had
no money that first year with which to purchase anything. They are the
ones who needed courage and great fortitude to remain here and they buckled
on their armor and fought the battle through. It was a very small percentage
who gave up, sold or abandoned their claims and returned to the states
from which they originally came. It took a tremendous lot of courage and
character, to remain here fighting what looked at times like a losing fight,
to create a home from a wilderness and to maintain that home when once
created. Especially is this true of those who were practically destitute,
who had to undergo suffering from hunger themselves and worst of all, watch
their families suffer from lack of food and the bare necessities of life.
The diet of some of these hardy pioneers consisted of nothing but molasses
and a bread made from coarse meal which they had obtained by grating the
corn on a nutmeg grater, or maybe grinding it in coffee pots. For
their coffee, they would brown bread crumbs until they were burned, or
used some parched wheat and rye, when they could get it. Some did not even
have molasses for their bread. Others had better fare, they set a pretty
good table, so they thought, if they could have beans and si[d]e meat;
and the family who could afford real coffee, milk, eggs, a few vegetables
and bread made from real meal of flour, were the aristocrats in the neighborhood.
The greatest thing that
stands out on every mind during those first difficult years is there wasn’t
a man, woman or child, but was ready and willing to share anything he owned
with his neighbors. In time of sickness, the neighbors were at hand to
offer sympathy and assistance. One more fortunate in this world’s goods
shared his store with his less fortunate brother.
One such instance of neighborly
kindness comes to mind. Some distance from our home, but in our neighborhood,
lived a Polish family, there were the parents, five children and an old
grandmother. We weren’t very well acquainted with them, as they lived several
miles from us, and sort of kept to themselves. The man and his oldest son
had helped me during the summer several times, and he always requested
that he be given his pay in milk, eggs and butter or vegetables. This suited
me all right, and I really never thought much about the condition of the
family finances. He and the boy always ate their meals with us when they
were working for me, and I noticed that at times they looked a trifle peaked.
I didn’t give it any serious thought. About Christmas time, we were awakened
one night by the oldest KENEZEH boy who asked that my wife and myself come
to his home immediately, his grandmother had taken suddenly quite ill.
We of course wasted no time in questions, but went at once. When we arrived
[and] discovered the conditions existing in that home, we were shocked
and horrified. There was no food in the house, and they had been managing
to exist for days on nothing but bread made from course meal and water.
This Mrs. KENEZEH made into cakes and baked in the wood ashes of the stove.
The poor old grandmother had been literally starved to death. Fearing there
wasn’t enough of this poor fare for the rest of the household, she would
refuse to eat, saying she wasn’t hungry, or didn’t feel like eating, and
not really obtaining any strength, when she did occasionally eat, she starved
to death. They had made known their sad plight to no one, nor had anyone
the least inkling of their str?itened circumstances. We soon spread the
news of their needs and the neighbors rallied immediately with food and
clothing. The men folk went to work to construct a coffin for the
dear old lady’s burial, my wife and some other women insisted on padding
it and lining it with some pretty material so that her last resting place
wouldn’t be bare and devoid of all comfort. To me, somehow, it seemed a
poor gesture considering the cause of her death, but the womenfolk felt
better to make the little old lady’s last bed a comfortable one. Perhaps
they were right, who knows? Every neighbor was anxious and willing to do
his part; a grave was dug, the old lady reverently laid out and placed
in the home-made casket. Then we were ready for the funeral, but didn’t
know who we could get to conduct the services. My wife found out that the
KENEZEH family were Catholics. Since no priest was close, we again faced
another problem. Mr. GILBERT, a friend of ours, said he believed had heard
there was a priest in Kingfisher, or had been there a day or two before.
We was sure if told the circumstances, he would gladly come down and say
the burial services. Mr. GILBERT left immediately for Kingfisher, and was
lucky to catch the priest who was making ready to leave. He kindly postponed
his departure to come back with GILBERT and conduct the funeral much to
the gratification of the KENEZEH family. After the funeral all the neighbors
got together and each contributed food, etc., from their stores and all
a?r?ed to see that the KENEZEH family got along all right until the crops
came in the summer.
I’d like to tell a little
something about how the Indians hunt and dispose of land terrapins, or
how they did in those days. I don’t know if they ever hunt them now. They
would map out the territory they intended covering then would circle it,
and, armed with a stick something like a hockey club, would beat the bushes,
thus scaring out the terrapins and herding them into the center of a vast
ring. There the squaws and children would be waiting with a great bonfire
going and into this roaring fire, they would drive the terrapins. They
would keep pushing them back into the blaze until the terrapins were overcome
with the flames, then when they were roasted in the shell, they would eat
them. I never tasted any, but Indians have told me the meat is delicious.
It has always seemed a very cruel mode of preparing the terrapin and I
never had any desire to sample any of it. I asked one Indian why they didn’t
first kill the terrapin, but he said if they did, the meat was no good.
Possibly he was right, but I’ll stick to beef steak.
We finally moved into
El Reno, reared our family here and have owned and operated our drug store
for more years than I care to remember. I guess we are one of the oldest
industries in town.
Submitted to OKGenWeb by Gay
Wall <t31892@nidlink.com>
05-1999.