Author: Museum Staff

In March of 1925, the new bridge over the Arkansas at Deerfield opened to much fanfare.  A parade was formed going out to the bridge where Commissioners George B. Martin and Thomas Williams took down the bars and the long procession passed over. After the bridge’s inspection, Rev. H. J.  Karstensen of the Deerfield Lutheran Church gave a superlative speech suitable to the occasion. This was followed up by more speeches and then a free dinner at Deerfield’s theater. Over 500 meals were served, and the Kearny County Advocate reported that the crowd was one of the largest that Deerfield had experienced in a good many years.

According to the March 27, 1925 Lakin Independent, the bridge was 630 feet long and consisted of seven spans of 90 feet each. Twenty-five-foot piling was driven into the river bed as a foundation for the concrete pillars to rest upon. They reached the solid ground below the sand and cut off eight feet below the surface to prevent rotting. Steel strings with steel banisters were built to span the distance between the pillars upon which a concrete floor was laid. A one-lane structure with a width of only 16 feet, the bridge was considered wide for that period of time and was one of the most substantial structures across the Arkansas River in Kansas. Engineer R. B. Glass said the new bridge would hold up a Santa Fe train. The entire cost of the bridge, according to the paper, was $48,902.25.

In November of 1976, The Lakin Independent reported that the contract for a new bridge at Deerfield had been awarded to L & M Construction Company of Great Bend, Kansas, on a bid of $285,988. Load capacity of the old bridge had been limited to passenger vehicles and light trucks, and the Kearny County highway department constructed a temporary crossing in the river bed the previous year so that farm trucks and heavier industrial loads could cross the river.

Former Kearny County Historical Society president Foster Eskelund wrote to O.D. Turner, Secretary of the Kansas Department of Transportation, in hopes that the old bridge would be deeded to the KCHS which would preserve the historical landmark, and a petition was circulated to this effect.

Eskelund received his answer in March of 1978 when Raymond E. Olson, engineer of secondary roads for the State of Kansas, replied to Foster’s request. Because the new bridge across the Arkansas River was constructed immediately adjacent to the old bridge with only about an eight-foot clearance between the two, and the spans between piers of the bridges were of different lengths, there was no line-up of the piers. “This has the effect of providing many obstacles in the river that tend to collect trash and trees which the Arkansas River is famous for during periods of flood. There is a good possibility that the piers of the old bridge will collect and build up debris until it deposits in the piers of the new bridge. We do not think this would be a good thing for the new facility,” wrote Olson. “It is the matter of debris that becomes the primary reason to remove the existing bridge.”

Although Olson said that the KCHS might be able to negotiate with the contractor to dismantle a span of the old bridge for assembly at another place, there is no evidence in the society’s records that this was ever done. Dismantling of the old bridge began in April of 1978.

SOURCES: Museum archives and archives of the Advocate, Independent and Garden City Telegram.

In June 1921, the Pueblo Flood swept the Arkansas River Valley and left much destruction in its wake. Heavy rains began west of Pueblo at Dry Creek on June 2, leading the river to swell to more than thirteen feet on the gauge at Pueblo’s Main Street Bridge. Then intense rains began in the city on the afternoon of the 3^rd. By midnight on the 4th, the flooding peaked at more than 24.5 feet. Levees broke in several spots and inundated a large part of Pueblo’s downtown covering the business district with water that reached a depth of 20 feet in some places.

Raging waters rushed down the Arkansas, and torrential rains exacerbated the problem. On June 3, Lakin’s Independent praised the much-needed and long-hoped-for rain, but a week later it was a very different story.

“The long looked for rain arrived Thursday evening, and it was no gentle shower, a five-inch fall being recorded and this stands for all parts of the county.” With high water cutting off nearly all transportation, mail carriers had a flood-enforced layoff, and Lakin was left without power when a pole carrying the transmission line was destroyed. Portions of the Santa Fe Railroad tracks between Hartland and Sutton, as well as two miles east of Lakin, were damaged. A set of farm buildings was carried away between Deerfield and Holcomb, and irrigation canals sustained damage from the high waters as well.

At Deerfield, part of their bridge across the river was “some where else than here now the high water taking it out.” Later reports said that 160 feet of the bridge was taken out, cutting off the South Side and greatly inconveniencing its residents.

The Hartland bridge was swept away as well. Lakin’s new concrete bridge which had been completed in 1917 withstood the rampage; however, the road south of the bridge was left in very poor condition. Reports came in that three men who came down the Arkansas river on logs were rescued near Kendall, and at Sutton, Will Thompson and his wife were found sitting on the highest hill north of the river. The Thompsons had fled there after moving their household goods to the upper story of the headgate house.

On June 17, The Advocate reported that the water at the south approach to the Lakin bridge was still too deep for automobiles, and South Side farmers were forced to make the trip to town with “the old and reliable horse and wagon.” Teams of horses were required to help cars that attempted the trip across this stretch of road. While it took much longer to repair the bridges, passenger and freight traffic on the Santa Fe between Dodge City and La Junta was finally resumed after a 12-day tie up.

At the highest mark, the flood water of the Arkansas did not spread to more than a mile wide here. According to the Independent, damage done by the flood was hard to estimate, but Kearny County had not suffered as great a loss as had a number of counties in eastern Colorado and Western Kansas. At Syracuse, Stillman Hixson drowned after aiding a number of tourists who were trapped in the high water. Hixson was hit by a nearly eight-foot high wall of water that came rushing down upon him and swept him off the railroad track where he had gone to seek safety.

The flood was the worst in Pueblo’s history, and the number of casualties is still unknown. Many bodies washed up later, some much later than the initial aftermath of the tragedy. Many victims did not have family looking for them because they were poor, single immigrants; others were never found. The list of missing people was nearly twice as long as the list of the deceased, ranging from 50 in the days after the flood to nearly 300 in the following weeks. In addition, some of those who were missing were later found alive but were not reported as such.

Buildings collapsed at Pueblo, some because train cars that were swept up in the flood had crashed into them. The spark from a downed power line ignited boards at a local lumber company and created a fire that damaged many of the remaining structures. Telephone lines were destroyed affecting communication between Pueblo and the rest of the state, and there was no power. The streets were  littered with debris and mud, and decomposing bodies of livestock littered the Ark Valley. All told, the flood inundated 300 square miles and carried away more than 500 houses, along with 98 businesses or industrial buildings, 61 stores, 46 locomotives, and 1,274 railroad cars.

Prior to the Pueblo Flood, Kearny County had suffered its share of losses from Arkansas River flood waters, and the wooden bridges at Hartland, Lakin and Deerfield were frequently under deluge. On May 29, 1902, Thomas Hinsley drowned at Hartland while trying to save the bridge. The 52-year-old was taking up some flooring and was swept into the current. During that flood, Hartland’s bridge lost a span of 125 feet. In August of that year, the bridges at Kendall, Lakin and Deerfield all suffered damage “owing to the river being on a tare.”

Parts of the Hartland, Lakin and Deerfield bridges were taken out in early October 1904 when flood waters from Trinidad, Colorado flowed into the Arkansas at Las Animas and reached Kansas. Although the Kendall bridge was not damaged, Charles Johnson tried to cross the river there and lost one horse and a wagon in the rapidly swelling tide. By December 10, only the Hartland bridge had been repaired and was usable. Four years later, all three of Kearny County’s bridges were washed out when a cloudburst near Lamar, Colo., made the river rise rapidly. It was the most flood damage experienced here up until that time.

In May 1914, another flood washed away part of the Hartland and Lakin river bridges while the Deerfield bridge went unscathed. Then in September 1915, the Lakin bridge went out again. Word had been received that the Arkansas was out of its banks at Colorado, and this area was hit by the heaviest rainstorm of that season. “The flood reached this place at about 8 p.m.,” reported The Lakin Independent, “and the rush of the water was heard for miles.”

SOURCES: History Colorado.org; Colorado Encyclopedia.org; History of Kearny County Vol. II; archives of the Lakin Investigator, Lakin Independent, Advocate and Syracuse Journal; and Museum archives.

In section 5 in the northeast corner of the Lakin Cemetery stands a grave that has been veiled in mystery for many years. Was the man buried there Chinese or Japanese, a cook or a farmer? Over the years, various theories and translations of the foreign language on the marker have been offered, but they don’t add up to a neat and tidy airtight case.

As reported in Volume I of the History of Kearny County Kansas, the grave was thought to be that of a Chinese man who was an employee of the Garden City Land and Irrigation Company. The man was supposedly a cook for the construction gang during the making of Lake McKinney.

The second volume of Kearny County history stated the grave was believed to be that of a man of Japanese origin who died in Kearny County in April 1908. “One translation states that he was a man of 24 years by the name of Inutaro Miiyamoto.” There is no information provided as to where this theory was derived.

In 1976, Richard L. Spear, Associate Professor of Oriental Languages & Literature at the University of Kansas, translated the inscription on the tombstone and identified the man buried there as Rintaro Tokunaga. “Tokunaga is the family name, Rintaro the given name.  The characters are read down from right to left. They are clearly carved by someone unfamiliar with written Japanese,” wrote Spear. Spear further wrote that Tokunaga was of Japanese descent and was 33 years of age at the time of his death on April 4, 1908.

In the early 1980s, Verla Hancock of Springfield, Colorado made a rubbing of the gravestone while visiting friends in Lakin. She sent a copy of the inscription to the Department of State in Washington to have it translated into English to which she received the following reply, “We have translated the inscription as follows: “My dearest husband Takumago Taro Age 33, April 4, 1908.” Furthermore, the Department of State letter noted the name and the flag on top of the stone were both Japanese.

No mentions of a local Chinese man could be found in the papers; however, there were two mentions of a Japanese man dying at this time. On May 1, 1908, The Lakin Investigator reported that “Mr. Ritapunago, one of our Japanese farmers on the southside, was buried in the Lakin cemetery on Wednesday afternoon. He was 35 years of age.” A week later, the Advocate report was basically the same but did not list an age or name.

A few years ago, the Museum was gifted with the old Rolodex systems from the Lakin Cemetery. Curiously enough, the index card for the grave listed two names, Rintaro Tokunaga and Ritapunago.  “News” was cited as the source of the information. In 1960 when Vernon “Barney” Barnes became caretaker of the Lakin Cemetery, many of the graves were not marked nor entered in the records. Little by little, Barney and his wife, Betty, put together whatever information they could find, and it is very likely that the rolodex card was completed during this time.

Eventually Betty published a series of books entitled “Diggin’ Up Bones” which contains obituaries for those buried in local cemeteries. Betty’s entry for the mysterious grave reads, “Tokunaga, Rintaro – Sec. 5 NE Corner of Cemetery” but includes the May 1, 1908 article from the Lakin Investigator with Mr. Ritapunago’s name in it. Having his age and name wrong in the newspaper would not have been uncommon for that time, especially when the subject was a little-known foreigner and Japanese interpreters were scarce. Perhaps that is the conclusion that Betty Barnes came to and that she believed the two men were one in the same; however, she also included the Department of State’s translation in her entry.

In researching this article, the author could find no information or records for any of the names associated with the grave other than Tokunaga’s but did uncover a new piece of evidence. An article appearing in the Dec. 22, 1908 Hutchinson News reported that the M.L. Grimes monument company had just completed a gravestone to mark the grave of a native of Japan. “The stone is not large and it contains the darwing (drawing) of the Japanese flag and the Japanese letters spelling out the name of R. Tokunaga, who died on April 4, 1908.” The paper said the stone was ordered by a friend of Mr. Tokunaga’s who was living at Granada, Colo. Grimes said the gravestone was the first that his store had made for a foreigner and that the Japanese lettering was a new thing for the workmen in the shop; however, the article stated that Mr. Tokunaga had died at Granada and was buried there.

There are too many similarities in the Hutch News article to dismiss it. Research in the online archives of the Colorado papers, on findagrave.com and Ancestry came up empty for an R. Tokunaga in Colorado at that time. Japanese began settling around the Granada area in 1900, and it is possible that Tokunaga came to Kearny County from there. In 1907, the Garden City Reflector and Advocate reported that the sugar company (later known as Garden City Land and Irrigation Company) was leasing several sections of its land in Kearny County to Japanese farmers to cultivate sugar beets. Many of the businessmen who invested in the sugar beet industry were from Colorado so it makes sense that they recruited Japanese farmers from that area.

T.J. Randolph of the Lakin Cemetery said that Rintaro Tokunaga is the name on the Cemetery’s data base. The author believes that the gravestone made in Hutchinson is the same small one located in section 5 of the Lakin Cemetery marking Tokunaga’s final resting place. The tombstone was broken in the 1980s and was pieced back together, but is showing its age. Randolph said he would like to see the stone replaced with a new one to appropriately honor the man buried there and is in hopes that donations will fund the project.

SOURCES: Diggin’ Up Bones by Betty Barnes; History of Kearny County Vols. I & II; ancestry.com; newspapers.com; findagrave.com; amache.org; Museum archives and archives of The Advocate, Lakin Investigator, Garden City Reflector, Garden City Telegram, and Hutchinson News, with special thanks to T.J. Randolph.

Memorial Day is just two short weeks away. Many of us will be trekking to cemeteries around the nation to lay flowers on the graves of our lost loved ones, but Decoration Day was originally established in 1868 to honor and decorate the graves of war-fallen soldiers. Monuments honoring the lives of those who died serving our country are a common fixture at cemeteries. This includes the one that was dedicated at the Lakin Cemetery on Memorial Day 1936.

In early 1935, the local American Legion and relief authorities completed plans to erect a monument for soldiers who died during World War I. The monument was part of a larger effort at that time to improve the Lakin Cemetery using township monies and cemetery dues as well as labor and funds provided by the Works Progress Administration (WPA), a program designed to provide unemployed Americans with work and income during the Great Depression. The cemetery’s roads were graveled, an oval drive installed, improvements made to the watering system, and the grounds beautified. This included the landscaping of a new park just inside the south gates.

The work was done under the direction of a sub-committee of the cemetery association whose members were association president J.J. Nash, secretary James Parker, Mrs. George Garrettson and Charles Loucks. Both Nash and Parker put in a tremendous amount of time planning and supervising the project, and a force of men, at times as many as 33, were put to work on the improvements.

The 16-foot tall monument, a concrete shaft with 10-inch thick sides and hollowed center, was erected in the park area facing south. A cap was placed on the top with the idea that it may one day be replaced by a statue. Engineered by A.K. Brown and Guy Harsha, the American Legion monument was dedicated on May 30, 1936, in conjunction with the annual decoration of the graves of all ex-service men. State Rep. Raimon G. Walters, first commander of Garden City’s American Legion post, was the chief speaker for the occasion. Previous to the erection of the monument, memorial services on Memorial Day weekend had been conducted over the grave of Earl McConaughey, a local WWI soldier who died in 1918 from pneumonia after contracting the Spanish Flu.

In 1954, Florence Streain Beiderwell provided funds to apply a brick rock veneer to the shaft. Beiderwell, the daughter of William and Eva Streain, grew up in this community and made her contribution in honor of her parents and family.

Wherever you may be this Memorial Day, please keep in mind that all who live in our country have profited by those who died defending it. Honor their sacrifices.

SOURCES: History of Kearny County Vols. I & II; Office of Veteran Affairs; archives of the Lakin Independent, Garden City Herald and Garden City Telegram; and museum archives.

On a clear April morning in 1958, United Airlines Flight 736 was struck in the Nevada skies by a United States Air Force fighter jet in training. Both aircraft fell out of control from 21,000 feet and crashed into unpopulated desert terrain southwest of Las Vegas. The dead included the two pilots in the fighter jet and all 42 passengers and five crew members aboard Flight 736. Among the victims were military personnel and civilian contractors involved with sensitive Department of Defense weapons systems, and the FBI was brought in to help identify human remains and to search for any sensitive documents pertaining to national security that may have survived the fiery crash.

First Officer on Flight 736 was former Lakin man Arlin E. Sommers, and the community was stunned upon learning the devastating news. The son of Edd and Bessie Sommers, Arlin was a 1940 Lakin High School graduate. In October of 1939, Arlin became the first scout in Lakin to achieve the rank of Eagle Scout, and he was also a senior patrol leader of Troop 35.

After completing his primary and elementary flight training, Arlin received orders to report for duty at Del Monte, CA in June 1943. That fall, he graduated from the United States Naval Pre-Flight School and reported to the U.S. Naval Air Station in Hutchinson for primary flight training. As a member of the Navy Reserves, Lieutenant Sommers was a pilot in the Naval Air Transport Service and flew DC-4’s on the NATS San Francisco to Guam flight during World War II.

Arlin returned to Lakin after the war and conducted an aerial spraying operation. He was appointed the first commanding officer of the newly organized Kearny County Civil Air Patrol in December 1948, but in early 1951, Arlin and his family relocated to the Denver area after he was hired by United Airlines as a pilot. With 3,700 hours of flying time, Sommers was well trained for the job, and he made rapid progress in the company with United rating him as one of their top flying officers.

On that fatal day of April 21, 1958, Flight 736 was enroute from Los Angeles International Airport to New York City with the first stopover scheduled at Denver. The fighter jet took off from Nellis Air Force Base near Vegas approximately eight minutes after Flight 736 left L.A. In the front seat of the tandem cockpit was Capt. Thomas Coryell, a flight instructor and safety pilot, and behind him was 1^st Lt. Gerald D. Moran. As part of Moran’s training, he was under a hood that blocked his view outside the aircraft but allowed him to see his instrument panel. Using two-way microphone communication, Coryell instructed Moran and monitored his performance. Coryell was also to maintain lookout for other aircraft.

The Air Force jet was practicing a maneuver that involved climbing to about 28,000 feet and diving almost straight down to simulate a rapid insertion into enemy airspace when its right wing clipped the airliner’s right wing. A frantic radio call from the stricken airliner came just moments after the collision at 8:30 a.m. “United Air Lines 736. Mayday. Midair collision over Las Vegas. 736.”

The crash remains the deadliest in the history of the Las Vegas Valley and was one of several mid-air collisions during the 1950s that ushered in widespread improvements in air traffic control and led directly to changes in the way airspace nationwide was shared by commercial and military flights. In August 1958, President Dwight Eisenhower specifically referenced the deadly collision as he signed the Federal Aviation Act which ordered the creation of what is now the Federal Aviation Administration.

The Civil Aeronautics Board determined that the probable cause of the collision between Flight 736 and the fighter jet was a high rate of near head-on closure at high altitude; human and cockpit visibility limitations; and the failure of Nellis Air Force Base and the Civil Aeronautics Administration to take every measure possible to reduce a known collision exposure. A trial court later found First Officer Sommers and Flight 736 Captain Duane Ward free from any negligence, and damages were awarded to their wives and children. Arlin Sommers was 36 years old. He and his wife, Noel Jean, had three children, ages 12, 8 and 6.

SOURCES: usarchive.org; casetext.com; bootcampmilitaryfitnessinstitute.com; Ancestry.com; Wikipedia; Archives of the Lakin Independent, Las Vegas Review Journal, and Los Angeles Times; and Museum archives.

When widow Sara Searle Madison learned that the Hartland, Kansas town company was offering free lots to anyone who would locate there and build a hotel, she accepted the offer. Ahead of her arrival in 1885, she shipped a train car load of lumber and hardware along with household goods to the town site which was just north of the Arkansas River about a 20-minute train ride west of Lakin. Accompanying Mrs. Madison to Kearny County were two daughters, Lena June Madison and Jessie Cochran, and the Cochran children. Sarah’s son-in-law, Henry Cochran, was already working at Hartland for the town company and had been the one to inform Sarah of the opportunity that awaited her in the up-and-coming community.

“The train slowed down right in the midst of the open prairie – an immense cattle pasture it looked like, with some lank, long-horned cows grazing on the buffalo grass or following the narrow trails down to the river. Not even a shack to be seen, not a human being. Just cows!” Sarah recalled years later. “You can imagine the look of consternation and disappointment that spread over our faces when the conductor stopped by my seat and said, ‘Lady, this is Hartland.’”

There was no depot there yet, and the train slowly chugged about a mile further west before stopping in the middle of a large patch of sand burrs. There stood Henry with some of the town company men who were ready to welcome the new arrivals and help them from the train with their baggage.

“I’ll never forget when the night came on that first time. It seemed just a vast expanse of loneliness and desolation with us at the center. But as we sat and talked, and the men told of the plans and projects, and a cool, refreshing Kansas breeze came up, we sort of caught the spirit of the west, and soon were enthusiastically planning our little part in the big development.”

The town lot that Sarah had been given was not nearly large enough for a hotel so she had to purchase another lot. The family lived in a large tent for a couple of months while the Madison House was under construction, and the lodge was finished none too soon as the people began coming to the small burg in droves, beckoned there through glamorous and alluring circulars and pamphlets advertising the benefits of settling at the “Rose of the Valley.” By February of 1886, the boom was on at Hartland.

“From every train alighted 100 or more passengers, eager and excited, anxious to see a real estate man and get located,” wrote Sarah. Some came on the daily stagecoach, and others made their way in wagons loaded down with their belongings. In a few months, Hartland’s population reached 1,000, businesses sprung up left and right, and a school and depot were erected. A large number of the arrivals went across the free bridge that had been built across the Arkansas there and took up homesteads in the sandhills and further south in the new town of Ulysses.

Sarah’s business boomed too as claim holders, travelers, cowboys, ministers and teachers found more than shelter at the Madison House. The atmosphere there was made as homey as possible as so many of the boarders were young men and women whose own homes and families were in some distant state. Musicians often provided entertainment to the guests, and visiting ministers delivered inspiring messages. Many young women who were proving up claims were glad to help cook for their board, and Sarah’s family worked hard to provide plenty of good wholesome food.

According to the Hartland Times, the Madison House was one of the best conducted hotels in this part of the state. Sarah was a hospitable and motherly hostess who formed lifelong friendships with many of her guests and acquaintances. Among those who stayed at the Madison House were Buffalo Jones, the irrigation king of this region and one of the founders of Garden City, and Logan Garten who later became a well-known newspaper man and was secretary of the park board and public utilities commission in St. Joseph, Missouri at the time of his death.

Just as she had witnessed Hartland’s growth, Sarah Madison was there to see the city fall. The town company abandoned its interests there when the salt industry drew attention back to Hutchinson where the company had been organized. Then the court house burned in 1894, and Lakin regained the county seat in the special election that followed. Hartland’s residents scattered in various directions. Sarah’s two lots were traded off for a sack of flour, and the Madison House was taken down and rebuilt in Lakin on the northwest corner of Garfield and Lincoln as a dwelling for the Cochrans and “Grandma Madison” as her friends called her. It was there that Sarah quietly passed away in her sleep in 1936 at the age of 97. Since then, the hotel that once offered respite to many a weary settler has sheltered various families. Many of the older residents of Lakin still refer to the structure as the Lucas house as it was occupied by the Dick and Mildred Lucas family for many years, but since August of 2008, the Jarrod and Jennifer Groth family have called it home.

SOURCES: Diggin’ Up Bones by Betty Barnes; History of Kearny County Vol. 1; “Looking Back 50 Years” by S.E. Madison and India H. Simmons; findagrave.com; archives of the Hartland Times and Hartland Herald; and Museum archives, with special thanks to Jennifer Groth.

Lumber and hardware have been sold at the store front located at 110 S. Main in Lakin since 1916, but the roots of the store can be traced even further back. In March of 1906, the Mosher & Armstrong lumber business was transferred to Joseph C. Hart. Joining Hart in the venture were Thornton N. Thorpe, E.R. Thorpe, George H. Tate Jr. (Harry), John Tate and Charles Loucks. The company began operations as Hart & Thorpe with Joe Hart and Thornton Thorpe as managers.

By August that year, the firm was advertising as Hart, Thorpe & Co. The business sold coal and farm implements in addition to carrying a full line of building materials including lumber, shingles, lathe, doors, paint, cement, windows, stoves and more. Hart, Thorpe & Co. operated out of a small frame building on the east side of Main Street near the railroad tracks, and everything was sold “at prices as low as honest trade principles” permitted.

The 110 S. Main location was completed in December of 1916, and the company celebrated with a grand opening on December 20. The event was largely attended and included refreshments and dancing with music furnished by the Bon Ton Orchestra. The new, larger building allowed Hart, Thorpe & Co. to expand its stock, and customers could buy anything from fine china to guns and ammunition.

When John Tate died in 1922, his interest was acquired by Cecil Tate. In December of 1923, the local papers announced that the Thorpes had sold their interest in the store to the partnership of J.C. Hart & Company; thus, the business name was changed to J.C. Hart & Co. Hart and J.R. (Ralph) Hutton managed the firm. Hutton had been working there since 1919 when he returned from serving during World War I. When Joe Hart died in 1933, his share went to his wife, Mabel, and two children, Bert and Thelma, and Hutton took over as sole manager. Under his leadership, the firm became one of the largest retail businesses in volume in the area and was one of the larger area distributors of oil and gas well drilling additives from about 1939 to 1959.

Harry Tate’s share was retained by his heirs after his death in 1944, and Hutton bought out Bert Hart’s share of the firm in 1949. When Mr. Loucks died in 1960, his interest was retained by his wife, Rhoda.

On February 1, 1965, the Tate family purchased the interests of all the other partners, and the name of the lumber, hardware, and appliance firm was changed to Tate and Company. According to the April 15, 1976 Independent, members of the Tate family who owned interests in Tate & Co. included Lakinites Brad Tate, Maude Tate, Peggy Davis, and Florence Fletcher; Violet Tate and her son, George Tate, both of Garden City; and Victor Tate, Missoula, Montana.

In November 1974, Don Hammons moved from Denver with his family to manage the firm, and in April 1976, he bought the business which continued under the name of Tate and Co. until January of 1977. Then it was given the name of Hammons Lumber and Hardware, Inc.

The building has gone by the name of Main Street Supply since 2001 when Shannon and Kelley McCormick purchased the enterprise along with Kelley’s parents, Les and Wilma Adams. Shannon said he and Kelley have been the sole owners since 2018 when Les and Wilma retired, and he has no immediate plans to sell or retire. Shannon thoroughly enjoys the work and his customers; plus, the business holds fond memories for him. His grandfather, Pete McCormick, was one of the managers for Tate & Co., and Shannon used to meander around the store on a Flying Turtle scooter as a kid in the 1970s. Tate & Co. sold the popular riding toy.

Shannon and Kelley’s daughter Brooke was three years old when they bought the business. She rode around the shop on her trike, and Shannon said they also sometimes pulled her around in the mop bucket to entertain her. Those rides were a rite of passage that their son, Bode, later enjoyed. Now a senior in high school, he works at Main Street Supply for his parents while Shannon and Kelley’s grandchildren venture about the store on the trike or in the mop bucket.

SOURCES: Diggin’ Up Bones by Betty Barnes; History of Kearny County Vol. I, and archives of The Advocate, Investigator and Lakin Independent with special thanks to Shannon McCormick.

A spell of sadness came over the Lakin community in August of 1939 when news spread that the youngest child of John and Mary V. O’Loughlin had taken his own life. Thomas Joseph O’Loughlin was born in Lakin on April 12, 1900. He attended Lakin Grade School and graduated from the eighth grade in 1915. In January of 1916, one month after his father’s death, young Tom left Lakin to attend St. Mary’s College at St. Mary’s, KS, just as his older brothers had. On Oct. 14, 1918, while still at St. Mary’s, he enlisted in the student army training corps. Having completed his term of service, he was honorably discharged on Dec. 20, 1918 and returned to Lakin. His excellent character was noted on his military record.

Tom attended to the ranch and farm work of the family enterprise and worked in his brothers’ store as well. He also worked harvest in eastern Kansas. For a time, he ran a successful restaurant venture, but his love of the outdoors lured him back into farming and stock raising.

Tom O’Loughlin was a much-loved, good-natured friend to all. He always remembered those he met, always spoke to all of high and low degree, and was willing and ready to help in times of trouble. He was known for his Irish humor and often participated in community and school events including skits and fairs. He particularly enjoyed dances.

Tom was a charter member of the American Legion Shepherd-Moore Post No. 208. He also held membership in the Old Settlers.

It was said that Tom spread sunshine wherever he went. Why then would a successful young man of good health take his own life? On June 28, 1933, Tom and his 10-year-old nephew, Billie O’Loughlin, were standing in the barn at the O’Loughlin property just southeast of the city limits. A bolt of lightning struck the barn and coming to the ground struck both Billie and Tom. Tom’s sister Helen saw both victims fall and ran to the barn. Although he had burns on his body, Tom quickly recovered from the shock, but Billie was killed instantly. Speculation is that Tom never quite recovered from the incident. It was in the same barn that Thomas Joseph O’Loughlin hung himself six years later.

Diggin’ Up Bones by Betty Barnes; History of Kearny County Vols. I & II; archives of The Advocate and Independent; and museum archives.