Rocks are often given a bad rap. No one wants to be between a rock and a hard place, and phrases like “hitting rock bottom” and “as smart as a box of rocks” reflect such negativity. Still, there are some people who actually think that rocks rock. They have pet rocks, rock gardens, and rock facades on their homes and fireplaces.

To say that Don and Joan Shaw loved rocks would not be hyperbole. They were well known rockhounds and started a gem and mineral business in their home five miles west of Lakin in 1979. Their business was known as “Shaws’ From the Land of Oz.”

Don and Joan Shaw in 1983 with their 3’10” double-trunk araucarioxylon from the Triassic Period, Chinle Formation of Arizona.

For years, the couple’s home had been open by appointment to individuals, groups and school children who were interested in viewing their large collection of petrified woods, minerals, fossils and Native American items. With the opening of their business, the Shaws offered items for sale including jewelry made from natural materials and decorative items made from geodes, natural minerals, fossils and petrified wood.

Joan’s interest in rock collecting was piqued when daughter Cindy began picking up stones from the back of their property and bringing them to the house to show off. Joan began filling the basement of their house with rocks, and in 1960, she and Don became charter members of the Southwest Kansas Gem and Mineral Society. Joan wrote that they “had not the faintest inkling their newly chosen hobby would grow into a private collection.” The Shaws soon found themselves making jewelry. Don became an accomplished silversmith while Joan cut and polished the stones and designed their pieces. They won many trophies for their work.

In 1967, a polished agate that Joan submitted to the American Federation of Mineralogical Societies was used in a brooch presented to Lady Bird Johnson. The brooch contained one stone from each of the 50 states. Joan had fashioned her stone from a small piece of “rough” material Cindy found in the canyon behind their home.

Very early in their participation in the SWKGMS, the Shaws began a collection of fossil woods from many areas in the Western U.S. The collection broadened in later years to include specimens from world-wide locations. With such a broad selection of materials, Joan thought it wise to learn something of pale botany and structure of early day plants. Using textbooks and a binocular microscope, she learned to make a cursory identification of many of the specimens. Knowledge also brought about the collection of plant parts other than the hardened trunks and stems, and the family soon had collections of leaves, cones, and seeds. Many of these were collected personally in the locations where they fossilized.

In order to display their collection of fossil plants, the Shaws constructed a four-tier pyramid with the bottom measuring twelve feet square and with subsequent tiers tapering to the top. This enormous display was shown at several shows in Western Kansas and Oklahoma. At the Rocky Mountain Federation Show in Colorado Springs in June 1978, it received one of the 25 special ribbons awarded by the Japanese International Rock Appreciation Club for best exhibits at the show.

Both Don and Joan held various offices in the SWKGMS. The organization disbanded in 1985, but during the years the club was active, it sponsored the 4-H Club geology project. The Shaws guided 4-H groups to areas where they could collect specimens such as sharks’ teeth, ammonites, and fossil clams. Many collectors sought the Shaws’ help in identifying and labeling their specimens. For several years, Joan traveled to county fairs to judge geology exhibits using the rules she helped establish in the early years of the state 4-H geology project. They were based on those used in the Gem and Mineral Society.

Many cases of rocks, minerals and fossils were assembled by the Shaw family and given to area schools. Science teachers who attended rock swaps were surprised to receive boxes of identified specimens from the Shaw collection to use in their classrooms. These activities, along with the groups and individuals who viewed the collections in the Shaw home, resulted in hundreds of thank-you notes. A count of names in five guest books kept through the years of the hobby after the middle of 1963 showed that 2,549 students, scouts, 4-H members and adult organizations signed in. In addition, 1,764 individuals viewed their collections. Visitors from 15 foreign countries enjoyed the hobby in the Shaw’s home.

The Shaw children were involved in the hobby too. Cindy was the perpetual rock collector. In adult life, she spent part of ten years doing underwater photography in the Bay Islands, Honduras where she became an expert on the corals, soft-bodied animals, fish, and larger oceanic creatures. This led to writing a book, “Diving Bay Islands.”

Shawn found her first Indian point at an early age and soon claimed all those collected by the family. Later as the Native American collections came to include pottery and weavings, her interest graduated to include them. Alison was drawn to modern-day corals and sea-shells. As a world traveler, Terry collected treasures from many areas of the globe.

The two youngest, Jane and Lex, displayed cases at the yearly SWKGMS shows with Jane specializing in miniature minerals and Lex collecting fossil fauna. Lex also served as club photographer for several years. Both later graduated with degrees in geology from Kansas State University.

After the winter of 2006-2007, Don and Joan moved to Texas where they were closer to family. Joan’s passion traveled with her, and she soon had a new house to fill with rocks. Visitors were entranced by her collection. Joan passed away March 24, 2014, at Georgetown, Texas. Don died a month later on April 24. They had reached their 70th wedding anniversary that January.

Joan with part of the Shaws’ collection of fossil wood in 1983.

SOURCES: Lakin Independent, History of Kearny County Vol. II, and information/pictures provided by the late Joan Shaw.

Mayhem & Murder

On a Saturday night in August of 1892, four masked men held up a passenger train near Augusta, Kansas. As the train crossed a bridge one mile east of the Augusta depot, the engineer was startled by the sight of a masked man climbing down over the coal in the tender of the engine. The man shoved a revolver in the engineer’s face and commanded him to stop the train. A revolver was also aimed at the train’s fireman.

The engineer brought the train to a standstill, and accomplices in the rear uncoupled the Wells Fargo express car. Then the engineer was forced to pull ahead about a mile with the car and stop. While two of the robbers watched the crew of the locomotive, the others went to the express car door, demanded admittance and commenced shooting through the sides of the car where two more employees were barricading the door. The crewmen had no choice but to admit the masked men to the car where the safe was opened and ransacked. The robbers then made their escape into the surrounding woods.

Earlier in the week, the sheriff of Cowley County had been informed by a would-be fifth member of the gang that such a scheme was afoot. While the sheriff did not discover exactly when the robbery was to take place, he had a posse in waiting. As soon as he caught wind of the hold-up, he knew right where to put his hands on the robbers. He went to Douglass with several deputies where they surrounded the robbers’ homes and arrested Fred Livingston, A.A. Bailey, Rollin Moffat and Ezra Carter without a fight. Indisputable evidence of the men’s guilt in the form of masks and the money was found. The robbers were transported to the Winfield jail, and all of the stolen money except a few dollars was reportedly recovered. None of the men had ever held up a train before, but one paper reported that they had done their work like pros with the only mistake being that they captured the westbound Frisco instead of the eastbound which would have had a much larger amount of money onboard.

Now the names of Livingston, Bailey and Moffat probably bare no meaning to those who reside in Kearny County, but Ezra Carter just might ring a familiar bell. His father, John H. Carter, was the first man charged with keeping the peace in our area having been appointed undersheriff of Kearny Township in 1879 when what is now Kearny County was part of Ford County. What would possess the son of a lawman to get on the wrong side of the law?

The prosecuting officer entered into an agreement with the attorney for the defendants to prosecute only one of the men for train robbery. If there was a conviction, then the others were to plead guilty to larceny. If there was no conviction, then the others were to be set free. Ringleader Moffatt turned state’s evidence upon a promise that he would not be prosecuted, but Bailey, Livingston and Carter drew straws to see which would stand trial. As luck would have it, Ezra drew the long straw.

The trial, considered one of the hardest fought cases ever tried in Butler County court, lasted a week with the jury convicting Ezra to 14 years in the penitentiary while Bailey and Livingston were each given five. In 1895, the latter two were pardoned, but Carter’s request for a pardon was denied with the board of pardons claiming the case was a sort of “tails I win and heads you lose” scenario. Carter plead that he was guilty of no more serious a crime than the others and felt discriminated against. Then, in 1898, Kansas Governor Leedy commuted Carter’s sentence after Ezra produced affidavits to show that the other two men had robbed the train and that he only took a minor part in the crime.

Carter made his way back to Kearny County, moved in with his father and began living the life of a reborn man. He was soon serving as director of the Lakin band and was elected county commissioner for District #1 in 1905. He married Grace McConnon, the daughter of another local lawman, in April of 1901, and the two welcomed sons in 1903 and 1908. But Ezra couldn’t completely escape his criminal past.

When seeking re-election in the county commissioner race, Ezra approached a neighboring farmer in the Hartland area by the name of George W. Clark to solicit Clark’s support. Clark told Ezra that “there were just as good men who had no penitentiary record.” The feud between the two men continued to brew and came to a head in December of 1910 when Clark hired a man to sink a well on his farm. That man employed Ezra Carter, but Clark ordered Ezra off his place with the warning that he would kill him if he returned. Ezra came back to the well with six others to work. Clark rode from his house up to where the men were working. When about 75 yards from them, Clark, without saying a word, turned and rode back to the house about 400 yards away. Witnesses reported that Carter said Clark was probably going to his house to get his gun and shoot him. That is indeed what happened. Clark returned to the men, and ordered Carter to leave. Ezra jumped behind another man for protection and reportedly said, “I’ll go” and “Don’t shoot.” But when Ezra stuck his head out, a deadly shot struck his skull, and Clark rode away without saying another word. He was captured later that evening.

Clark’s case was the first murder trial in Kearny County. Both he and Ezra had many partisan friends, and after the jury had been out for more than 24 hours, the verdict was returned. Clark was found not guilty by reason of insanity and sentenced to the wing for the criminally insane in the state penitentiary at Lansing. Clark was the first person to be sent to the asylum, but the Topeka State Journal reported that prison officials said Clark’s mind was normal from the time he was received there. In 1914, Clark escaped while clearing brush on an island in the Missouri river. He was located in Heavener, Oklahoma but refused to be returned to Kansas. Since Clark was not convicted of murder, he could not be classed as a fugitive from justice and could only be arrested while within the state of Kansas. Nine years after his escape, Clark died near his home in Heavener from uranic poisoning. Ironically, the Heavener Ledger reported that Clark, like Ezra Carter, had also been living the life of a reborn man, was considered upright in his business dealings, and was popular among all who knew him.

Ezra and Grace Carter with their eldest son, Elmer. Ezra and Grace were also the parents of Leland “Billie” Carter.
Ezra Carter and son Elmer at a pumping plant south of Hartland around 1910.

SOURCES: Archives of the Kearny County Advocate, Junction City Weekly, The Evening Kansan, Rock Island Daily Argus, Harrisburg Telegraph, Kansas City Journal, Topeka Capital-Journal, Topeka State Journal, Heavener Ledger, and Leavenworth Times with special thanks to Charlotte Carter Isaacs.

 

When a picture is worth a thousand words

From the June 12, 1908 Lakin Investigator

A Marvelous Demonstration.

We, the undersigned, witnessed a marvelous demonstration on our streets on May 23rd, 1908. A.S. Nelson & Son, assisted by H.S. Darr, exhibited a Spiral Bearing Wagon that was fitted with shafts. The wagon was loaded with 5,000 pounds of chop and driven on to the streets and six boys and two dogs put on top the load.

Making a load of 5,700 pounds, besides the weight of the wagon. To this heavy load a burrow owned by Mr. Wilkinson was hitched to the wagon and this little animal drew this load (equal to 95 bushels of wheat) besides the weight of the wagon, down the streets between the banks where a picture was taken. Weight of the burrow was only 452 pounds. Then a small horse belonging to D.O. McColm, a farmer who lives near by, was hitched to the wagon and more than twenty men and boys climbed onto the load, and were driven onto the scales, and the load weighed 8,870 pounds, and after deducting the weight of the wagon, it left a net load of 7,605 pounds, heavier than 126 bushels of wheat. A picture of this load was also taken.

And when we take into consideration that this bearing runs without lubrication, it seems the more marvelous, but the inventor seems to have combined a perfect rolling action without static friction, and its saving to the “wheel world” is almost beyond comprehension.

E.O. McDowell, county treasurer; F.L. Pierce, county clerk; C.E. Warthen, register of deeds; E.S. Snow, coal dealer, weighed the burrow; R.Sewell, clerk, weighed wagon load; Dr. S.W. Downing, H.G. Stocking, George Eyeman, J.L. Hilyard, M.A. Mosher, J.M. Judd, cashier; C.B. Campbell, assistant cashier; G.W. Thornbrough, photographer; T.N. Thorpe, H.S. Darr, grain and seed; C.F. Bastion, Mrs. H.S. Darr, J.E. Shinkle, L.G. Eyman, L.P Kimball, justice of the peace.

The above testimonial in connection with various other evidence we have, should convince any one of the great merits of this extremely valuable invention.

Remember that “One truly good investment is worth a life time of hard labor.”

Now, while you have the opportunity is the time to secure some of this valuable stock. You can buy on the installment plan if desired. See A.S. Nelson & Son, or call on H.S. Darr, local representative, Lakin, Kansas.

Since the demonstration referred to above, I have talked with quite a number of people who are acquainted with Mr. Nelson, and have had numerous letters from stockholders in this company, and they all speak with entire confidence of the merits of the invention and the integrity of the officers, and predict that within two years this company will pay its stockholders more than 100 per cent in dividends annually. The saving in power, when applied to the street cars of one large city along (New York) will amount to over $20,000,000 annually, and this company should receive half of this saving, which would make over two hundred per cent on the entire capital stock. I will take your orders for any amount of stock you want, from $10 to $10,000, on the same terms as Mr. Nelson or the secretary of the company at Hannibal, Mo.

H.S. DARR

Wagons leveraging the Timken Tapered Roller Bearing or a variant of a self-oiling, continuous-angle assembly (often referred to by farmers as a “spiral” pattern due to how the rollers wrapped the axle cone) were heavily marketed for their mechanical advantage. Merchants and grocery firms across the Midwest frequently upgraded their heavy-duty delivery wagons to these new bearing axles because it drastically reduced the physical strain on the horses pulling heavy loads of cargo or groceries through muddy roads. According to the May 29, 1908 Advocate, sugar beet growers were greatly interested in the wagons. “for it would mean 50 per cent or more in the delivery of their beets to the railroad or sugar mill. These wagons are never oiled. The bearing having spiral grooves running its entire length, turns on steel rollers and its cost is but little more than the ordinary bearing.”

25 years after 9-11

This September 11 marks 25 years since the Twin Towers of the World Trade Center were struck by hijacked commercial airplanes in the worst terrorist attack on U.S. soil. Nearly 2,800 lives were lost in the WTC attack. According to 911memorial.org, 100 million Americans are too young to remember the day that changed New York City and our nation forever, but former Lakinite Joel Neff, son of Martin and Donna Neff, has not forgotten.

Joel and his wife, Tenille, were living in Larchmont, NY at the time. They had moved there so that Tenille could attend graduate school, and 9-11 took place on the very day she was to begin classes. Joel was working in Manhattan at A.I. Friedman, a long-standing independent art supply and graphic materials department. He traveled to work on the Metro North, and as he boarded the train bound for Grand Central Station that morning, news of a plane hitting the WTC began circulating on the train. Joel and other passengers assumed that a small private plane had probably hit the buildings because that had happened before.

Joel’s 30-minute ride into the city went smoothly, but upon arriving at Grand Central, news was spreading that two large planes had hit the WTC. Thinking that all was under control, Joel boarded the subway for the rest of his journey to work. The subway stopped somewhere between 20th and 14th Street at about 9:45 AM, not at a scheduled stop. It was pretty intense underground with no light or air conditioning and only speculation of what might really be happening above. Joel made it to 14th Street around 11 a.m. and entered onto the street above to a chaotic scene. Only then did he begin to comprehend the magnitude of the devastation. His work place was 10 blocks from the WTC, and the building had been evacuated. Joel used his cell phone to let his wife know he was okay and began his long walk back to Grand Central Station where he was able to catch the last train leaving the city for that day.

“I walked back to Grand Central and caught the last train back home, the whole time in a daze of visual reality fighting the unreality in my head.”

Joel wasn’t able to go back to his job in Union Square until the following week. “Although we were open, for the next month we really didn’t have any sales but we stayed open so people would have a place to just go and be.” The area around Ground Zero was blocked off with National Guard units stationed at barricades with NYPD.

Although Joel didn’t personally know anyone who lost their life in the attack, most of his co-workers lost someone they knew that day. Still, Joel couldn’t help but be impacted by the tragedy. “The weeks following were really just a daze, where nothing felt real. I never experienced any sense of fear in those days, but a profound sense of sadness and connectivity with the greater community. It also seems that very shortly after, the memorials began popping up with anti-war and a real sentiment for peaceful resolution.”

“Even though I had just been living in NYC for three months when the towers were attacked, the thought of leaving never really crossed my mind, even though several people from back home made the statement, “when are you going to move back?” To me, there was nothing more amazing than seeing the people of NYC pull together and deal with this traumatic event in a very real and meaningful way. Feeling somewhat of an outsider at that moment I was never treated that way by the people I knew or met at that time. I know there is the stereotype of the mean, cold New Yorker that is often portrayed on TV, but I did not find that to be even remotely true having gone through such a tragic event with my fellow New Yorkers.”

The Neffs remained in NYC for 13 years but moved back to the Midwest after having their first child. Their Missouri home is a far cry from the skyscrapers, subway, and hustle and bustle of New York City life, but memories of the terrorist attack still linger.

“Looking back, as with most tragedies, seeing the whole country unite as a community where we were all just Americans, no matter your politics, race or ethnicity, rallying to support one another as we all struggled to make sense of this senseless tragedy was an amazing thing.”

Neff added, “Unfortunately, the following war and politics since then seem to have used the attacks as a catalyst to begin to divide the country over the last 25 years. I guess thinking back to that time, I wish that sense of togetherness that we had as a country was more prevalent in today’s society and that we could have used that moment to foster in 25 years of country and worldwide unity helping to bring greater stability through the world instead of the insecurity that seems to be so prevalent in today’s society.” That’s a sentiment we can all relate to.

 

Special thanks to Joel Neff and his mother, Donna Neff. The accompanying pictures were taken by Joel 12 days after the WTC attack.

Joseph & Josephine Zubeck’s Quest for the American Dream

During the first decade of the 1900s, tens of thousands of Czech and Slovak immigrants came to the United States in search of the American dream. They hailed from the Czech lands of Bohemia, Moravia and Slovakia which were all part of the Austro-Hungarian Empire before 1918 and World War I. From 1900 to 1910, official U.S. immigration records did not list “Czechoslovakia.” Instead, these immigrants were categorized by their language or broader empire of origin and were often listed under Austria or Hungary. Many had been encouraged by fellow immigrants who sent glowing letters home about American jobs and land availability. Hoping to escape poverty, religious discrimination, the military draft and political and cultural repression, they arrived on American soil ready to roll up their sleeves and get to work.

 

Josephine Horcik was born in Prague, the daughter of a railroad worker. She had learned about the glowing prospects in the U.S. from rich Americans passing through her European country.  At the tender age of 17, she sailed to America and landed at Baltimore where she was to meet a family who had paid her passage and for whom she was to work as a maid. Josephine spoke both Bohemian and German but not English. She was not able to communicate and became bewildered and lost in the city. A friendly German police officer guided her to an American family who hired her to do household work. The year was 1905.

 

Two years earlier, Joseph Zoubkova had immigrated to America aboard the Koenig Albert to the port of New York. Joe, as he was familiarly known, was a native of Moravia. He Americanized his surname to Zubeck, and according to the 1910 census, he did speak English.

 

As fate would have it, the two met at a party of Bohemian immigrants and were soon married. Son Frank was born in Michigan. Thomas was born in Pennsylvania, and Joe Jr. in Ohio. Another son died soon after birth. In 1911, the Zubeck family came to Southwest Kansas, answering the call of the U.S. Sugar and Land Company (later Garden City Company) for people to work in the sugar beet industry. Both Joe and Josephine had worked similar fields in their home country. Joe was hired and placed in charge of maintaining irrigation pumps in addition to farming.

 

When they arrived at the Deerfield train depot, they were greeted by the sugar company’s people who took them first to eat and then to the house near Deerfield where the family would live. Josephine was amazed that not only was the house furnished but even the beds were made up with sheets and blankets. Sons Jimmy, John and Bob were added to the fold, but another son and two daughters died in infancy. In 1912, Joe applied for his naturalized citizenship.

 

Joe excelled at farming. In June of 1926, the Garden City Telegram gave the following report on his beet crop, “A PROGRESSIVE FARMER: Finney County residents who have taken a trip up the valley along the trail have remarked frequently about a field of beets on the hill just beyond Deerfield. These beets are fully a month in advance and most beet fields, are a good stand, well cultivated, and in fine condition – the kind that makes the big yield when the digger digs.” According to the article, factory people said that Joe did that kind of farming with all his crops. He also grew alfalfa, wheat and sorghum and raised cattle too.

 

Joe’s successful farming was also mentioned In Conquest of Southwest Kansas. He reportedly had 10 acres of beets that averaged 18 tons an acre and 10 that averaged 15 tons per acre in 1930, exceeding the overall average in the area of 12 tons per acre. Then came the Great Depression. According to granddaughter Pam Zubeck Cunningham, the family went to Ohio to work and had been there less than a year when they returned to gather the rest of their possessions in 1937. They never made it back to Ohio. Instead, Joseph met an untimely demise that October when he was killed almost instantly in a head-on collision on HWY 50 east of Deerfield. He was only 52.

 

Josephine and her sons stayed and continued to work the farm. The rains returned, and in a 1944 letter written in her native tongue to a Chicago Bohemian newspaper called, “Hlasatel,” Josephine wrote about their abundant crops. “Yields were good: barley yield was from 25 to 60 bushels and wheat from 30 to 50 bushels so that there will be plenty of bread.” But she also talked about hunger. “Here is how my son writes to me from Italy: “Mommy, you have already seen enough, but you have not yet seen so many hungry people like here. As soon as we sit down somewhere, we have children around us, they beg for food, we give them what we have, including potatoe peelings, what we throw away from the kitchen. The children eat everything. May the wheat or flower be shipped to them.” John was serving during World War II and was injured twice in battle as an infantry soldier but was treated in field hospitals and remained in the service. He received the Purple Heart with one bronze oak leaf cluster, bronze arrowhead, the Good Conduct Medal and American Defense Service Ribbon. After his tour of duty, John returned to Deerfield and worked for Harley Rector and the Santa Fe Motor Co. before moving to Garden City where he was a welder for East Side Iron.

 

In addition to farming, Frank worked for Santa Fe Motors as a mechanic. Jimmy was a lifetime farmer and also a Lynx corn seed dealer. Joe, Jr. farmed and was a carpenter. Thomas never married but lived with his mother until her death. He and Bob farmed together, and Bob also raised hogs and cattle on a small farm a half mile south of Deerfield. That operation was moved to their farm north of Deerfield in 1965 when the great flood came roaring down the Arkansas River and covered the valley with flood waters. Bob later worked for Central Power Inc. and a John Deere dealership in Garden City.

 

Although Josephine Zubeck never became a US citizen, she did teach herself English. She was shy and reserved and kept mostly to home where she cooked with vegetables grown from her garden and baked fresh bread. The simple pleasures brought her joy, and she relished long walks in the country, referring to the trees and skies as her church. She died in 1963 a few months before her 77th birthday.

Josephine Zubeck and son Bob circa. 1927.
Joseph Zubeck holding his infant son, Bob, in 1926.

SOURCES: Diggin’ Up Bones by Betty Barnes; Harvest of Memories by Pam Zubeck Cunningham; Czech Immigration to America by Magda Jurčíková; Conquest of Southwest Kansas by Leola Howard Blanchard; museum archives; newspapers.com; Ancestry.com, and steveszabados.com. Special thanks to Pam Cunningham and Ann Zubeck Brink.

 

Horace Stocking, man of many talents

During the first decade of the 1900’s, Lakin experienced a building boom. Among the contractors/carpenters at this time was Horace Grant Stocking, Jr. Stocking was a man of many talents: performer, one-room school teacher, barber, Modern Woodmen of America deputy, county surveyor, appraiser, store keeper, representative for the Aetna Building and Loan Association, election judge, and highly active Presbyterian Church member.

Horace Grant Stocking, Jr. 1872-1942

Born in 1872 in Indiana, he came to Kearny County in 1887 with his parents, Horace Grant, Sr. and Melvina Lovelace Stocking. He first taught in the rural schools, but in 1892, after spending the summer at Anthony, Kansas learning the barber trade, he returned to Lakin and opened up his own barber shop on Main Street. The following year, he married Sarah Edna Long, daughter of Benjamin and Lou Long. The couple had four sons: William, Clyde, Max, and Glen who was the youngest and died just a few months shy of his second birthday.

By the early 1900s, Stocking had partnered with his nephew, Will Bailey. The duo did carpentry work, painted, papered and performed general repairs. In 1905, they purchased a cement stone and brick-making machine. Stocking bought out Bailey’s share of the business in 1907. Horace and his crew not only built the city jail but several houses in town and even did some work in Deerfield. He was responsible for a good portion of the sidewalk work in Lakin not just for residences but for Main Street, along Waterman Avenue, and at the school.

The early settlers had to depend upon their own talents for much of their entertainment and recreation, and Horace had a great deal of musical talent both as a vocalist and as an instrumentalist. He played the mellophone and cornet, performed in vocal groups, and served as music director at church. He was also known to act in local productions. He and his sister, Alice, even did a stint touring with the Ellis Dramatic Company. In 1900, The Lakin Investigator reported that Stocking had returned from a tour where he gave “elocutionary entertainments in several towns west of here with flattering results. Mr. Stocking has given a great deal of attention to his art and deserves success.”

Stocking identified with every movement to make Lakin a better city to live in. He was an active church and Sunday school worker, member of the Knights and Ladies of Security, and also served as president of the Board of Education. According to The Independent, Horace did much to make our schools successful, and his untiring effort in that line was much appreciated by the community.

In December of 1915, the Stocking family moved to Texas. Horace had been ill for nearly a year and was hoping that the Gulf breezes would improve his health. Their time in Texas was short-lived. The following year, they returned to Kansas and settled at Winfield, but Horace frequented Lakin often. He died in 1942 in Florida at the home of his son William.

While he may not have lived in Lakin as long as some of the old settlers, Horace Stocking did leave his mark on this community, and some of his handiwork remains. For example, he was the contractor on the building where Golden Plains Credit Union is located. One of the residences he built, located on the southeast corner of Lincoln and Garfield, is currently on the market. Many know this house as the Speer home, and just across the alley to the east is the home that Stocking built for his family.

Horace G. Stocking, Jr.’s rendition of a vagabond, circa. 1892.
Horace and two of his sons were both members of the Lakin Band in 1908. Front row L-R: William Stocking, Clyde Stocking, George W. Thornbrough, Roy Thornbrough, Earl Dearth, Fleet Thomas. Middle row: Dick Sewell, Roy Menn, Glenn Thorpe, Bill Bailey, Forrest Thomas, Horace Stocking. Back row: Fred Thomas, Charles Loucks, Bern Nash, Clarence Parcells, Carl Campbell and Arnold Chandler.
Horace Stocking, left, and Roy Thornbrough sit atop the Lakin bridge, circa. 1908.
Located at 110 N. Garfield, Horace Stocking and his crew built this home in 1907. The residence is currently for sale.

 

SOURCES: History of Kearny County Vol. I & II; Diggin’ Up Bones by Betty Barnes; Museum archives; and archives of The Lakin Investigator, The Advocate, The Lakin Independent, and Miami News

Kearny County celebrated Kansas Centennial in style

Sixty-five years ago, communities all across Kansas were celebrating our state’s 100th birthday. Kearny County was no exception. Thursday, August 17th through Sunday, August 19th of 1961 was dubbed “Centennial Weekend” here, and residents had a full slate of activities to partake in.

A three-day arts, crafts and antique show was held at the Veterans Memorial Building. Elizabeth Edwards was in charge of the event, and everyone was invited to bring their handiwork and/or view the creations of their neighbors and friends. The display of local talent was a worthwhile project and attracted considerable attention.

Thursday and Friday were the final days of the annual Kearny County Free Fair, and residents were encouraged to attend the 4-H livestock sale as well as view the impressive exhibits. According to The Independent, the fair enjoyed even more exhibits and “the quality was tops.”

The rodeo, also held that weekend, took on a Kansas Centennial flavor and included the added attractions of a cutting horse demonstration and quarter horse show on Friday afternoon. Competitors vied on Saturday and Sunday evenings in front of estimated crowds of 1,500 persons each night. A rodeo dance was held at the fair building in Loucks park following Saturday’s competition. Rodeo Queen Pat Schulz reigned over the events, and her attendants were Linda Claar and Pat Bolinger.

Lakin business firms closed their doors from 12:30 until 3:30 on Saturday so that employees and customers could attend a buffalo barbecue and parade. More than 1,400 people turned out for the free barbecue served at Loucks Park. Plenty of western-style sides were served alongside the buffalo. Members of the Lakin Rotary Club, Deerfield Lions Club and VFW helped with serving and cleanup. Funds for the barbecue were contributed by many Kearny County folks. The buffalo came from the Garden City Game Preserve with Tom Wright and B.C. Nash making the kills, and Alvin Michel, Vernon Barnes, and Bob Coder assisting the two hunters in dressing them. A huge pit was dug to cook the main entrée with the fire being lit on Thursday at midnight. Jack Rice was the chairman for the Centennial Committee, and his son Earle D. Rice recalled, “Not being a very adventurous meat-eater, I was not sure if I was going to like this unfamiliar buffalo meat. However, I tried it, and it wasn’t too bad!” The paper reported the food as excellent and many compliments were received by those who prepared it.

The kiddie parade, which preceded the main parade on Saturday, left Earle with plenty of memories too. “My mother, Ruth Rice, and Bonnie Plummer, mother of Stan Plummer, planned the construction of a buffalo costume for us made mostly from a large cardboard box and dark brown burlap with Stan and me supplying the legs and power to walk down Main Street. Unfortunately, when we had a trial run on the curving sidewalk in front of our new house at 110 North Hamilton, we found that Stan and I couldn’t see a thing from inside the buffalo! It was decided to ask our neighbors and friends Kenny and Dennis Speer, sons of John and Jo Speer, to guide us down Main Street. They wore their blue Cub Scout shirts and cowboy hats to act as soldiers leading the buffalo in the parade. Jo Speer and Bonnie Plummer turned their daughters, Pam and Beverly, into sunflowers for the parade. I don’t know what they wore, but the mothers made something to surround the girls’ faces, causing them to look like sunflowers. These costumes were simple but very effective.” Pam and Beverly claimed second place while Earle and Stan’s buffalo costume took third. Earle said he and Stan divided their earnings four ways with the Speer’s boys getting an equal share each.

A band, composed of grade and high school musicians and directed by Kay Loeppke, led the main parade. Earle recalled, “My dad and grandpa were members of the Lakin Rotary Club as was John Plummer. The Rotary contribution to the parade was to be two couples riding on tandem bicycles dressed in period clothing. As I remember, Mr. and Mrs. Erickson, who lived in the Kansas-Nebraska plant housing on the river road between Lakin and Deerfield were one of the couples to ride the two-seater bikes representing the Lakin Rotary Club.” One of the floats in the rodeo parade that seemed to take the eye of many of the old timers was the Friendship Grange float which depicted an old-fashioned pioneer home. According the The Lakin Independent, “Cliff Moyer, besides doing the churning, kept the old topsy stove fired up with authentic cow and buffalo chips. Iman Wiatt made the remark that those were some of the most perfect chips he had seen since as a boy he scouted the prairies looking for fuel for the winter.” The paper reported the parade as the best one seen here since 1948’s Diamond Jubilee.

The Kearny County Historical Society served free coffee and doughnuts to 400 persons Saturday afternoon at the Memorial Building where they were also selling a limited supply of Volume I of the History of Kearny County and taking reservations for more. Virgil Patterson won the championship in a horseshoe pitching contest with Carl Jones placing second and Paul Gilleland, third. The contest was sponsored by the VFW on their newly installed horseshoe pitching court on the Tate lot north of the courthouse.

In other competition, Ralph Holden won the longest beard contest with Floyd Schwindt winning the most becoming and Russell Shankle the meanest looking. All men in the county were encouraged to grow a beard to get into the spirit of 1861. The official growing period began May 1, and as a fundraiser, a $2 shaving permit was sold to those who didn’t want to grow out their facial hair.

Capacity audiences participated in the activities which were pronounced as some of the best ever held in the community.

Posing on the Kearny County Courthouse lawn in their pioneer garb are L-R: Maylene Williams, Thelma Oakley, Jane Baker, Margaret Englert, Naomi Burrows and Bertha Adams.
Marvin Penick was in the Centennial spirit when he posed for this picture outside this sod trading post that was built by the father/son duo of Oliver and Bob Coder. The soddy sat 1/2 mile west of Lakin beside the round barn which is now part of the Museum Complex.

A few mementos from the Kansas Centennial.
Kearny County page in the Kansas Centennial book published by Centennial Press of Salina. There was not a separate entry for Deerfield.

SOURCES: “The Kearny County Kernels” by Monte Canfield, Sr.; “Kansas Centennial”; Museum archives, and archives of The Lakin Independent. Special thanks to Earle D. Rice.

A Look at Prairie View School

Summer break is over for Deerfield and Lakin students, but there was a time when our young ones wouldn’t have been trudging off to school until September. In the late 1800s and early 1900s, the need for a child’s labor on the family farm took precedence over his or her education. Schools ran from September until April, and during planting and harvest, it was not unusual for children to miss for weeks at a time. To meet the educational needs of farm families, one-room schoolhouses were built in rural areas.

District No. 3 was the first school district in this vicinity and was organized December 3, 1884 as part of Finney County. Prairie View school, situated about five miles north of Deerfield and on the east side of section 13-23-35, was part of this district. The little one-room schoolhouse was built in early 1887, and as one could surmise, a person could sit upon a horse at the schoolhouse and get a long-distance view of the prairie in any direction. After 1888, Prairie View was part of the Deerfield District No. 20.

Mabel Stringfield, teacher 1908-1909

Located in rich irrigated country, Prairie View’s attendance was fairly large, and the school was described as progressive with good teachers. As was typical of rural schools, Prairie View served the first through eighth grades. One teacher taught all the grades, and the older children helped with the younger ones. A county superintendent, appointed by county commissioners, oversaw all the rural schools in the area and visited each one at least twice a year to observe the teachers and classrooms. Like other rural school students, pupils from Prairie View had to take their county diploma examinations in town at either Deerfield or Lakin.

Prairie View students typically walked to school or rode their horses, and in 1909, a barn was built at the school to accommodate the children’s rides. Aside from school work, the one-room school was also a community gathering place. Worship services, literaries, pie and box suppers, oyster suppers and Sunday School conventions were frequently held there. News of these gatherings frequently made the Prairie View section of the local papers.

By 1916, Prairie View patrons had grown dissatisfied with Deerfield District No. 20 and began to complain about what they felt was mistreatment. In 1917, the school’s patrons were allowed to form their own district as Prairie View Joint 21. Joint 21 encompassed most of the sections of township 23, range 35 in Kearny County and sections 18 and 19 in township 23, range 34 of Finney County. In 1924, the schoolhouse was enlarged and remodeled, adding cloak rooms and installing a modern heating system.

By 1945, Kansas had over 8,000 tiny school districts. Kearny County had 22 even though only 11 of the schools were still operating. Things had changed greatly on the farm scene. In addition to machinery replacing much of the manual labor, small farmers were selling out to bigger farm operations. This led to fewer and fewer kids in rural areas. Transportation had come a long way as well with bussing more readily available. Small districts lacked the funding that the town schools had, and there were concerns that rural students could be at a disadvantage because many small schools lacked modern equipment and could not provide broader curriculums.

The Kansas Legislature passed the 1945 Kansas School Reorganization Act to consolidate smaller districts into more organized and efficient larger districts. According to the May 18, 1945 Independent, schools with less than 10 pupils were to be eliminated with very few exceptions.  A committee for reorganization in this county was appointed by the board of county commissioners and was made up of Leland Waechter, Frank Hoss, Charles Kuhlman, B.C. McCue and Glen Steward. Prairie View was once again consolidated with Deerfield, and the little one-room school, one of the oldest in the county, was closed to students. Although the Kansas Supreme Court reversed the Reorganization Act in 1947, Prairie View’s fate had already been sealed.

SOURCES: History of Kearny County, Vol. I; Museum archives; kslegistlature.org; and archives of Lakin Pioneer Democrat, Lakin Investigator, Kearny County Advocate and Lakin Independent. With the exception of the oldest photograph pictured, the remaining photos are from the collection of former Prairie View teacher Ethan McCue and were made available to us through his son, Michael.

 

 

 

 

Looking thru the lens of Ethan McCue

Ethan McCue’s photographs are a treasured and nostalgic nod to days gone by. Behind the lens of his camera, the Kearny County native captured the spirit of rural America during the 1930s and 40s.

Born April 13, 1917 in a farmhouse in Southside Township, McCue was the son of Elbert and Mary Alice Keys McCue who had moved from Finney County to Kearny County the previous year. Ethan was educated in primary grades in a one-room school on the South Side. When he was 14 years of age, his family moved to a different farm south of Deerfield. His father bought him a Model T Ford to drive into town for high school, and he graduated from Deerfield High School in 1934 in a class of five.

Upon the recommendation of his father who was serving on the school board at the time, McCue took his first salaried work as a teacher at the one-room Prairie View School. This school was located north of Deerfield next to the Amazon Irrigation Ditch. While teaching, Ethan purchased his single-lens reflex camera which used a mirror and prism system allowing him to view through the lens and compose exactly what would be captured on the film negative. Besides his local reputation as a capable young educator and impressive baritone singer at public events, Ethan became known during the following decade as a creator of images around Kearny County. Small prints from his black and white negatives were given as gifts and sent in letters. McCue carefully mounted his best prints in a leatherette album grouped by theme, but none were labeled or dated. None of his negatives from 1937 to 1947 survive.

Ethan’s album also contains a handful of prints made by other photographers, including one undated studio portrait of Ethan. In 1939, the Greyhound Bus line offered an unlimited travel deal on the national system for $99. That summer, Ethan traveled coast-to-coast with his camera visiting the New York World’s Fair, Atlantic City, Niagara Falls, his mother’s birthplace in Appalachian Ohio, the San Francisco International Exposition, and the McCues’ long-time hired man Anthony Lumsden who had returned to his native Virginian mountains after two decades working in agriculture in Kearny County.

Most of the historical value of Ethan McCue’s album is his documentation of rural agriculture in southwest Kansas when horsepower was being replaced rapidly by motor-driven equipment. He had a great interest in engines and was celebrated for his ability to analyze problems and to get them up and running again after breakdowns. Ethan’s photographs during that era often depict state-of-the art farm equipment and new techniques. He was not interested in romantic image-making that depicted old-fashioned practices. Curiously, McCue presented no images celebrating irrigation with water drawn from the Arkansas River. Ethan’s nights spent out alone as a teenager controlling the waters to irrigate the high-value crops must have encouraged him in his studies to forge his own desired career outside of agriculture.

Primary sources don’t inform Ethan’s descendants about many details of McCue’s life during his decade as a southwest Kansas photographer. For example, his family does not know where he spent one summer, between teaching terms, horseback as a cowboy on a ranch. He did get teaching positions at Sharon Springs and in Cimarron, and in 1947, he finally earned his four-year degree at Kansas State Teachers College in Emporia. This enabled him to move to Denver where he remained the rest of his life as an educator in the public schools. In June 1948 at Emporia, he married his college sweetheart, Mildred Haag of Lyon County.

After Ethan and Mildred settled in Denver, his passion for documentary photography cooled and he went on to explore other interests. McCue continued to use his SLR camera for recording family activity, but he did not use it in the ways he had back in Kansas. He became most interested in horticulture, carpentry, and in audio recording using reel-to-reel tape recorders. Those were his most notable creative outlets during his life in Colorado. McCue died at his Boulder home in 2005.

This week’s story comes to you from Ethan’s son, Michael, of Asheville, NC. Mike kindly reached out to the Kearny County Museum and graciously provided us with an album of Ethan’s photographs. The photos are in the public domain and may be used when respectfully credited with the following credit line: Ethan R. McCue (1917 – 2005) photographer, Kearny County album 1937 – 1947. The photos pictured here are a few samplings from the album.

 

Lakin Man was the Stevens Bandshell Murderer

On the morning of June 25th, 1949, Garden City law enforcement discovered a blood-covered scene in the rest room at the Stevens Park bandshell. They were told that a person had been carried from there to a car and concluded that a scuffle had taken place; however, a check with area hospitals revealed that no fight victims had been treated. Then Garden City Police Chief Lee Richardson received a tip that a murder had been committed.

Officers questioned persons who had been in the vicinity of the bandshell the night of June 24, and this led to the July 2 arrest of 22-year-old William Stebens at the Garden City Experiment Station where he worked. William told law enforcement that his younger brother, Wilmer, had forced him to help bury 40-year-old John Walter Mooney, and then William took them to a site on the edge of a wheat field north of the Experiment Station to retrieve the body. Only freshly turned earth was found upon their arrival. The body was gone.

The following day, Wilmer Lee Stebens was apprehended at Lamar, Co. He told officers that he had reburied the body on the afternoon of June 26 because of his brother’s involvement with the first burial. Wilmer led authorities to the second grave, marked crudely with the lid of an empty can, in a summer fallow field 14 miles north and two miles east of Garden City. Officers probed the ground with two shovels and within a couple of minutes, they located Mooney buried only inches below the surface. The corpse was badly decomposed, and the left arm had been severed apparently by a plow as the field had been plowed since the grave had been dug.

Wilmer was charged with second-degree murder and William with accessary after the fact. Neither of the Stebens brothers could post bond, and both were committed to the Finney County jail. While awaiting trial, Texas authorities arrived on the scene trying to link 20-year-old Wilmer to the murder of Tex Thornton in Amarillo on June 22. Although the out-of-work old field worker admitted to making a long trip through oil fields of Kansas, Oklahoma and Texas to find work, Wilmer said he could produce witnesses to prove that he was not in Amarillo at the time of Thornton’s murder. That investigation into Wilmer “fizzled” out according to newspaper reports.

The Mooney murder charges, however, stuck. According to Wilmer, he and some other men had had a few beers at a tavern north of Stevens Park on June 24, and they bought a beer for Mooney, a 40-year-old transient farm worker from North Carolina. Mooney said he had hid a bottle in a bush at the park so they went to the park to look for it. Unable to locate the bottle, Mooney and Wilmer went to the bandshell where Mooney reportedly pulled a knife on Stebens and threatened to sexually assault him.

Stebens told officers he hit Mooney with his fist and knocked him down the stairs into the women’s rest room. When Mooney rose, Stebens hit him again and seized his knife, throwing it as far as he could.  Stebens said he thought that Mooney was only stunned so he left the bandshell, but then he returned an hour later and found Mooney’s cold body. Stebens panicked and forced his brother William to help bury Mooney.

Stebens’ mother told authorities that Wilmer told her he held Mooney’s head under water in the band shell toilet for 45 minutes and tried repeatedly to crush his skull against the concrete floor of the restroom. Charges were changed to first-degree murder as the investigation “gave reason to believe that robbery was the main motive.” Wilmer was found guilty and sentenced to life imprisonment. Charges against William were dropped in exchange for testifying against his brother.

Wilmer was taken to the state penitentiary, but in the fall 1950, he was transferred to the Larned State Hospital to be treated for a hyperthyroid condition. On November 4, he and another inmate jumped a guard and escaped then stole a car. They were picked up near Inverness, Fla., a week later after a nation-wide manhunt, and Wilmer was returned to the state pen in Lansing.

In September of 1951, papers reported that Stebens had confessed to the slaying of George Seahorn who was found deceased in his car near Lakin in March of 1948 with a wound in his left leg. At the time, no foul play was suspected, and the Kearny County coroner ruled that Seahorn had probably died as a result of exposure. The 56-year-old Kearny County landowner had also reportedly been suffering with heart attacks. It was believed that Seahorn had used his leg to break out a window in his car which was found in a snow-filled ditch south of the tracks near the stockyards.

Stebens saw Seahorn’s unattended death as an opportunity and made up an elaborate story as to how the murder took place. Wilmer later admitted that he concocted the tale in order to be brought back to Southwest Kansas where two former prison buddies were going to help him escape the night before his hearing. Those buddies failed to show, and Stebens went on to plead innocent. Suspecting foul play on the day of his arraignment, security at the Kearny County court house was beefed up with peace officers from seven neighboring counties, the highway patrol and Lakin police. Wilmer was later subjected to a four-hour lie detector test which cleared him of the Seahorn murder charge, but that was not the end of Wilmer’s shenanigans.

In October of 1969, Stebens escaped from the Kansas penitentiary and abducted a female student at the Kansas Medical Center. The 21-year-old woman told police she had just parked her car when a man approached her, pulled a knife and told her to start driving. Stebens did not hurt the girl but forced her to drive to Clinton, Mo., and then back to Kansas City, Kans., where he released her. Wilmer was captured near Greensburg following a chase three days later. He was given an additional 20 years in prison for kidnapping.

According to newspaper articles, Wilmer Stebens was rated as one of the toughest young men ever to go to the state penitentiary. He was 73 years old when he died at Kansas City, MO, in December of 2002, having outlived his brother William, ex-wife and a daughter.

Wilmer Lee Stebens was convicted of first degree murder in the June 1949 death of a 40-year-old transient farm worker from North Carolina.
Wilmer Stebens (back to camera) leads Garden City Police Chief Lee Richardson and Highway Patrolman Gerald Murray to the shallow grave where he buried the body of John Walter Mooney.
Sheriff Al Dewey of Finney County points to the lid of a can which marked Mooney’s grave. Police Captain Martin Craig is at right with shovel, and Finney County Attorney Dale Corley is in the background to the left.

 

SOURCES: Ancestry.com and archives of the Lakin Independent, Hutchinson News, Garden City Telegram, Emporia Gazette, Jefferson City, MO Daily Capital News, Jefferson City, MO Post Tribune and Evening Eagle.