News, Events & County History

Carl Alonzo Miller left Oneida, Illinois, the place where he was born in 1882, and came to Deerfield in the spring of 1907. The real estate agent’s arrival was perfectly timed. Fueled by the sugar beet industry and all the amenities that came with it, the little village of Deerfield was soon to experience an explosion of growth.

In April of 1907, the Garden City Telegram reported that C.A. had bought a block of ground on Olive Street in Deerfield to erect his residence. Two years later, Miller’s beautifully built and spacious home was pictured in the Hutchinson Gazette as part of a PR pitch to beckon newcomers to the blossoming little burg of Deerfield. A picture of the Deerfield State Bank and write-ups on businesses and businessmen were also included in the campaign. As a partner in The Deerfield Land Co., Miller chauffeured would-be residents around to show them the properties that were for sale and those that had been sold and improved upon. But Miller wasn’t just a real estate agent. He also sold insurance, and crop insurance could be a profitable business in this agricultural community where an overabundance of irrigation water held at nearby Lake McKinney practically ensured the farmers’ success.

Deerfield was in the heart of the United States Sugar and Land Company holdings, and by 1909, papers referred to it as the fastest growing town along the Santa Fe Railroad. That same year, the Deerfield Land company bought two new touring cars as their business had grown to such dimensions that they were “compelled to get machines to show the many land buyers the property which they have for sale.” At least one of the vehicles could usually be found at the railroad station “to meet prospective land buyers and others interested in the Deerfield country.”

Deerfield residents were proud of their community and all the progress that had been made. “The people who live in a town, are, afterall, the town,” proclaimed the Deerfield News. “Alive, wideawake, resourceful and anxious to improve themselves, the people of Deerfield have the capabilities which will enable them to take hold of the advantages that surely are opening before their town.”

And taking hold of the advantages is just what Miller did. In 1908, he became the president of the newly formed Deerfield Telephone Company. C.A. served as vice-president of the Deerfield State Bank, he was elected to the Deerfield City Council, and by 1910, he was selling and renting new and second-hand automobiles as the local Ford agent. He also served as secretary for Deerfield’s Commercial Club and treasurer of the Arkansas Valley Commercial Association of Western Kansas.

In 1912, Miller moved to Garden City with his wife, son and daughter, but C.A. did not severe his ties to Deerfield. He started a land office at Garden City, and The Garden City Telegram reported that nearly every day his car could be seen “spinning between here and Deerfield, where he formerly lived and where much of his real estate and insurance business is still done. But he prefers more metropolitan existence.” Although Miller may have preferred city life, he didn’t forget the friendships he had forged along the way. Both the Garden City and Lakin papers frequently reported on social gatherings between Miller and his Kearny County pals. C.A. also retained his position on the board of directors for the Deerfield State Bank until health caused him to step down. His wife, Mary, then took his place and remained on the board until 1935 when the bank merged with Kearny County Bank. Mr. Miller died in 1936 at his 909 N. Sixth home in Garden City, and his wife passed there in 1947.

According to Museum archives, Dr. J.B. Watson, his wife and son moved into the Olive Street house after the Millers moved to Garden City. The good doctor built up a very extensive practice in Kearny, Finney and surrounding counties and was considered one of the best surgeons in western Kansas. Marjorie Futhey Streiff recalled that Dr. Watson took her on rounds with him in his horse and buggy when she was a young child recuperating from a bad bout of pneumonia. Watson became very involved in the Deerfield community, headed up the town baseball team and was a generous contributor to the Methodist Church. According to the Kearny County Advocate, “Every man, boy and child really loved him.”

But in March of 1916, the citizens of Deerfield were terribly shocked and grief stricken when they learned that the 39-year-old physician had died after being struck by a car in Chicago. The Rockford Daily Republic reported that heavy gales of wind, accompanied by driving cold rains, were sweeping across Chicago at the time of the accident. Watson, his head lowered, did not see the oncoming vehicle as he crossed the street. The doctor had gone to the Midwest to visit to his only son who was attending school there.

In October of 1917, the widow Watson packed up her belongings and left for Kentucky where she and the doctor had previously lived and where he was buried. Since then, various families have lived in the Olive Street home at Deerfield, a humble abode that was once used as an advertising tool to beckon newcomers to southwest Kansas.

 

SOURCES: Findagrave; ancestry.com; History of Kearny County Vol. I; Museum archives; and archives of the Hutchinson Gazette, Garden City Herald, Garden City Telegram, Deerfield News, Owensboro Kentucky Messenger, Rockford Daily Republic, Advocate and Lakin Independent.

Before customers were bellying up to the bar at Rosel’s Recreation, they were buying food and necessities at the Equity Exchange. Now known as the Cottonwood Coffeehouse, the building at 108 N. Main in Lakin was built by E.A. Masterson and opened in 1920 as the Equity Exchange with the top story utilized as the American Legion Hall.

Masterson, a local cement man and contractor, kept busy in Lakin in the early 1900s. Not only was he was awarded contracts for putting in culverts, bridges, sidewalks and sewers; he also made cement blocks, created monument stones, and worked on homes and business buildings. In September of 1919, the announcement came that Masterson had the survey made for his 50×100 foot store building on Main Street. He started the foundation soon after.

The February 13, 1920 Independent revealed that “the walls of the E.A. Masterson store building were up to the height of a man’s head and work is being pushed forward as rapidly as possible.” Masterson had made splendid progress on the second story by the time May rolled around, and in June, the Equity Exchange moved their grocery store into “their new home, the Masterson building” and had a very up-to-date room supplied with splendid equipment and plenty of space to expand.

The Lakin Equity Exchange had been organized in late December of 1917 for the purpose of doing a general merchandise business and also buying and selling all farm products. In addition to running a store, the Exchange also had an elevator and coal yard. Stockholders were allowed to purchase no more than two shares of $100 each. For the fiscal year ending June 30, 1920, the gross amount of business tallied up to $76,682.56 with $10,000 worth of stock having been sold.

From fresh fruits and veggies to clothing and shoes, the Equity was generally hailed as a “one stop for all one’s needs.” In December of 1929, the Equity started a closing-out sale after stockholders decided to get out of the mercantile business. Goods were marked down considerably, with everything being sold for cash. The final day of business was Saturday, January 24 of 1930 when a public auction was held to sell the remaining items.

The building stood idle a little over a year until a billiard parlor and barber shop opened there, but Dean Recreation Hall was short-lived. In March of 1932, Fred Dean moved his pool tables and fixtures to Greensburg where he planned to open another pool hall. In January of 1934, brothers Mark and Dan O’Reilly brought in new equipment from Denver and opened the O’Reilly Pleasure Parlor. Six years later, the O’Reilly brothers made the move to Caddoa, Colorado where business was expected to be very good due to the number of men there working on the Caddoa dam (John Martin Dam).

Frank Rosel of Satanta purchased the Lakin billiard hall from the O’Reillys. Known affectionately by friends and family as Deacon or Deke, Rosel was a fixture on Lakin’s Main Street for decades. He was a longtime sports enthusiast and was particularly fond of baseball – he played, umpired and managed teams in Southwest Kansas and Lakin. Rosel was also instrumental in getting lights installed when the ball field was first constructed in Loucks Parks. He ran Rosel’s Recreation up until his unexpected death at the age of 84 from a heart attack in October of 1978. In a May 1979 article, Deke’s son announced that the pool hall would continue to operate in honor of his father. Since then, the building has not only housed pool halls and taverns but also a daycare, quilting shops, carpet store, antique store, eateries and more. To jog the memory, here are a few of those business names: Kisel Recreation, Green Gorilla, The Red Rooster, In Cahoots, Meraki, Wooden Spoon and Jacked Up Barbecue.

In 2021, Lakin High School alumn John White, and his wife, Jenny, opened the Cottonwood Coffeehouse at this location. The couple wanted a place in Lakin where people could gather and enjoy a “cuppa” something. They remodeled the 1920 building and offered up well-crafted drinks and fresh-baked pastries in a spacious but cozy setting. In 2024, Johnny and Enny Teichroeb took over the business. The menu at the local hot spot has expanded, and the Cottonwood’s locally roasted coffee is the perfect complement to their breakfast and lunch items. In addition to catering, the shop regularly offers special “themed” drinks, has hosted special events such as Pie Night, and is often used as a meeting place. Customers may not be able to “belly up to the bar” here anymore, but they can sure get their bellies full of excellent food and tasty beverages.

SOURCES: Facebook, Museum archives, and archives of the Advocate and Lakin Independent.

Enola Vastine Feldman was a young child when her family moved to a farm northwest of Deerfield, Kansas in the 1920s. She read and re-read the magazines her family subscribed to, and her desire to write was awakened. Enola’s first published work was a poem in “Leghorn World” which yielded her a free 10-year subscription to the magazine. After graduating from Deerfield High School in 1930, she attended Ottawa University and earned a $10 gold piece for winning the short story contest for freshmen. Enola continued to write, and in 1942, she was named Kansas Poet Laureate by the American Poet Laureate Search Committee. Her poetry and short stories garnered her several awards from the Kansas Authors Club through the years. In 1988, Enola received the prestigious J. Donald Coffin Award for her first book, a historical novel entitled “Flame in the Wind.” She would go on to write two more fictional novels, “Long Shadow” and “Purple Rocks.” Enola passed away at her home in Garden City in 2000 at the age of 87. This poem, written by Enola, seems appropriate with our current season and with January 29^th marking Kansas Day and our state’s 165^th birthday.

Kansas Winter

When the mercury reaches zero and the autumn days are past

And you hear the coyotes yipp’ng like each cry would be their last . . .

And the baying of the hound-dogs so anxious for a run,

You’re scared they may break loose too soon and maybe spoil the fun . . .

Well, then is when a feller keeps a-grinning all the time,

For you feel as bright and husky as a newly-minted dime

As you jump astride Old Rocket … and his hoofs are beating fast

When the mercury reaches zero and the autumn days are past!

 

There’s something sort of bracing-like about the atmosphere

When the hazy autumn’s over and the days are cold and clear.

Of course, we miss the posies in the pasture and the trees

Are looking kind of barren-like without their rustling leaves,

But the air’s invigorating, and it makes your pulses thrill

At the sights and sounds that greet you from the top of Knobby Hill.

Sure, ‘twould make a startling picture, and I’d paint it if I dast

When the mercury reaches zero and the autumn days are past.

 

The soft-toned change of color from the blue to fluffy gray

Of clouds that roll up silent over stacks of winter hay . . .

The quiet falling snow flakes that soon cover all in sight

Keeps a feller sort of reverent-like from morning until night.

But when the wind starts howling from the north, you grin and say,

“How about a pair of skates and a lunch packed up today?”

Oh, it sets my heart to beating like a sail against a mast

When the mercury reaches zero and the autumn days are past.

 

The moon lays down a carpet from the world’s frozen edge

And bids the timid wood-folk leave the shelter of the hedge.

The lake has turned to platinum, smooth and granite-hard.

There’s diamonds in the treetops, and pearls in the yard,

And opals shine with moonstones in a wealth that can’t be spent.

Makes you feel as rich as Croesus if you haven’t got a cent!

Old Mother Nature really has the seasons all out-classed

When the mercury reaches zero and the autumn days are past.

 

Late at night you bring the buckets of the warm milk from the barns

And set around the kitchen popping corn and swapping yarns.

Your wheat has all been planted, and your women-folks are through

With their canning so there’s nothing but the quilting left to do . . .

I don’t know how to tell it, but if such a thing could be

As Saints a-wanting boarding and they called around on me,

I’d accommodate them proudly, from the first plumb to the last.

When the mercury reaches zero and the autumn days are past.

 

Around 17% to 21% of Americans made losing weight their 2026 New Year’s resolution, but by January 9, many of them had already abandoned their goals. Typically the second Friday in January, Quitter’s Day was coined from fitness app data and is the unofficial day when many people resign from pursuing their weight loss resolution. Perhaps some of these “quitters” could have kept going had they had a network of resources and the fellowship of others who were tackling the same goal.

For more than 75 years, TOPS (Take Off Pounds Sensibly) has helped millions of people to take off and keep off pounds. Founded in 1948 and headquartered in Milwaukee, Wis., TOPS promotes successful weight management with a philosophy that combines healthy eating, regular exercise, wellness education and support from fellow members. According to the organization’s website, the non-profit, non-commercial network of weight-loss support and wellness education groups is all about doing things by the book. “We have strong ties to the medical community and believe in healthy living from the inside out. It’s a holistic approach to wellness. No fad diets. No gimmicks. No shortcuts. With us, it all comes down to accountability, unwavering support and top-tier resources.” Included in those resources are retreats, both in person and through the world wide web, as well as other helpful tips and information through their website and regular chapter meetings.

TOPS was the brainchild of housewife Esther S. Manz. Manz was pregnant with her fifth child and participating in group sessions designed to prepare women for childbirth where she witnessed the power of mutual support in helping women stay within their doctors’ guidelines for pregnancy. She contemplated a weight loss group with a similar philosophy and discussed it with her doctor who encouraged her to follow through with the idea. Championing weight loss support and success, TOPS grew to about 2,500 members in six states by 1951. Manz’s story appeared in LIFE magazine in April that year, and by the year’s end there were chapters in every state and a total membership of over 6,000. By 1955, TOPS had gone international and had given birth to KOPS. (Keep Off Pounds Sensibly)

Tumbleweed TOPS Chapter #278 was organized locally in November of 1967 with 19 charter members. Weekly meetings and weigh-ins were integral to the program. Tips for counting calories, meal plans, activities, guest speakers, and encouragement were keys to its success. Members were rewarded when they lost weight for consecutive periods of time: for example, four weeks of consecutive weight loss earned a charm, 10 weeks earned a bracelet and 12 weeks earned a necklace. Likewise, minimal fines were paid by those who gained weight. In the early years of the organization, the member who gained the most during the week would have a mandatory (but good-natured) penalty imposed such as wearing a “Porky” pig lapel pin for a week. In time, chapters were discouraged from this practice as national leaders felt it hurt the organization’s image and could be embarrassing or misconstrued as demeaning.

Bringing women together with the common cause of losing weight, TOPS created a camaraderie between its members. Contests, picnics, rallies, and coronations were all part of local chapter happenings. Members attended themed State Recognition Days and conventions and met with other TOPS chapters in the area for fun and fellowship. TOPS proved that working together to lose weight could be fun.

Unfortunately, the local TOPS chapter decided to call it quits in 2020 mainly due to the looming threat of Covid-19. According to the late Geneva Williams, a charter member, the seven remaining members were also getting older and getting out and about was becoming difficult for them.

Williams received a 50-year certificate from the national office in 2017. She made many great memories (as well as dresses for Recognition Days) through the years. “The best thing about TOPS was the camaraderie. We always had a good time,” Williams said. Her favorite memory was when Lakin’s Mildred Yager was crowned queen of Kansas for losing the most overall weight in the state.

Williams donated scrapbooks, minutes and other artifacts from the local TOPS chapter to the museum before her passing. These will be put on display when the clubs and organizations section is revised and re-opened to the public.

SOURCES: TOPS website, Museum archives and archives of The Lakin Independent.

 

One hundred and forty years ago this month, two great blizzards descended upon Kansas. The first wave began New Year’s Day with heavy snowfalls, high winds and freezing temperatures. It arrived at Dodge City about noon and continued until the early morning hours of January 3. Although little snow accompanied the second blizzard which hit January 6, temperatures plummeted to well below zero with strong winds creating massive snow drifts. The wind combined with the brutally cold air made this one of the coldest periods on record.

Businesses were paralyzed, and passengers were stranded on trains. According to the January 9, 1886 Advocate, snow drifts along the railroad had to be removed with the slow process of pick and shovel. The train that came through Lakin on the 3^rd was drawn by three powerful engines and had a snow plow and a large number of laborers who had been “severely worked” clearing the track east of here. Several snow-bound trains stopped at Lakin, and local hotels and restaurants were kept busy. Over 100 people were served breakfast at the Commercial Hotel on January 5^th. Following the second storm, there were no trains here for two days. The January 16, 1886, Advocate reported that a call of arms went out to all available Lakin men to work on the snow drifts across the railroad tracks, and quite a number of these men got frostbit on their feet and ears.

An estimated 100 Kansans froze to death. Many of the dwellings on the open prairie had been quickly and cheaply built, and settlers were ill prepared to protect themselves from such cold. According to The Advocate, during the second storm, “the snow that fell the previous Saturday was taken up in one continuous cloud and blown into every crack and crevice of our houses and buildings” and for 24 hours, it was almost impossible to travel just 50 yards without getting bewildered and lost in the blinding snow. The Topeka Daily Capital gave accounts of the most harrowing of the snow stories: people who died within feet of their own homes which were obscured by snow, men and women who froze to death along with their horses, and people whose frostbitten limbs had to be amputated.

One amazing tale of survival involved George Hill and Charlie Nation who lived near Kendall. The twosome had decided to pick up a few dollars by gathering dry bones on the prairie as the weather was nice and the bone market was active. They hitched a team to a wagon with a large box and drove southeast to the vicinity of present-day Ulysses in Grant County where the blizzard came upon them. Realizing they would be unable to face the storm and reach home or other shelter, they did the next best thing. The men unhitched the team and tethered them securely then unloaded the wagon box. They turned it upside down on the ground with themselves and what supplies they had beneath it. George and Charlie remained there for 36 hours. When the storm abated, they emerged, put the box back on the wagon, hitched up the team which had miraculously survived the storm and proceeded homeward, little the worse for their experience.

Hogs being shipped by rail were froze solid as trains sat idle, prevented from moving forward by drifting snow. Animals out in the open with little to graze upon were caught hungry and without shelter. Alex Cross lost his entire herd of sheep, estimated at 1,300 head, at his ranch northeast of Lakin. An era of large, expansive cattle ranches was in full swing, and these businessmen felt the full wrath of the storm. Cattle wandered blindly in the terrific cold and finally dropped exhausted, perishing by the thousands. The Santa Fe Railroad had just completed fencing their right of way with heavy posts and six barbwires on each fence. Dead frozen cattle were piled against this fence on the north side so thick a person could supposedly walk from Dodge City to Deerfield on dead cattle, possibly even to the Colorado line. Some men were hired by the Santa Fe to dispose of the animals, but the task of removing the dead cattle was not an easy one and carcasses could be seen for months to come. That spring, W.H. Stutzman drove his team and wagon from about 25 miles northwest of Halstead to a homestead 15 miles north of Kendall. Later, his wife joined him with their one-year-old baby, coming by way of the Santa Fe. From the train’s windows, Mrs. Stutzman saw thousands of carcasses piled on top of each other in the river and along the north side of the railroad fence.

At Hartland, Nellie Cochran Tipton was safely held up during the blizzard in her grandmother’s unfinished hotel, the Madison House. She later wrote that she would never forget seeing those long-horned cattle crowded around the building for protection. They, too, froze to death piled up.

John Andress had better luck than most ranchers in the area. He and some other men on the south side of the Arkansas River had cut and stacked hay together. Their neighbors laughed at the storing up of feed, but when the blizzards arrived, Andress’ cattle stayed close to his shed. Because they had plenty to eat, all but one of John’s cows survived.

The storms wiped out at least 75% of the cattle population – the most unprecedented loss of livestock ever experienced on the plains. Cattle companies and most ranchers went bankrupt, but there was a silver lining for the hundreds of homesteaders who arrived in the area shortly afterwards. The enormous snows had left the soil soaked with moisture which led to the raising of bountiful, prosperous crops. These homesteaders felt they had reached paradise.

SOURCES: History of Kearny Co. Vols. I & II; Kansas State Historical Society; National Weather Service; Hathitrust.org; History.com; and archives of The Advocate.

 

Seventy-five years ago, Joe Eves was named as Speaker Pro Tem of the Kansas House of Representatives. Two years later, Eves was elected as the Majority Floor Leader. In all, he spent 16 years as a state representative and was largely responsible for much of the progressive legislation enacted during Governor Ed Arn’s two terms, and due in part to Joe’s efforts in the late 1940s, Lakin’s vo-ag program was approved by the State Board for Vocational Education which allowed USD 215 to receive federal and state funding.

Joe was politically minded from an early age. He was born in Holden, Missouri on January 1, 1900, the eldest child of David and Jessie (Potter) Eves. Joe’s father was a life-long Republican who ran for county recorder in Holden, but Missouri was primarily a Democratic state and the elder Eves’ bid was unsuccessful. When Joe was seven years old, the family moved to Kansas where Republicans did not so often get defeated. Joe’s dad got an “emigrant car” on the Missouri Pacific Railroad and loaded their household goods, together with two mares, a cow and calf, a dog, 50 chickens, a good new wagon and other farming equipment. The car cost him $125 and was unloaded at Leoti which was in closer proximity, though not much, to their homestead at Conquest nearly 30 miles northwest of Lakin.

As a boy, Joe attended political rallies nearby at the rural Prairie Center school. In 1912, his father sold his livestock and farming equipment and moved the family into Lakin. David Eves served as Kearny County Register of Deeds from 1917-1921 when the oil leasing was just getting started here. Many of the lease forms were not standard and had to be copied by pen in the records. Joe helped his father in this work and with his proofreading. From this time on and up until being elected to his first term in the Legislature, Joe Eves knew he wanted to be a state representative.

That opportunity came in 1942 when Ralph Miller decided not to run again for the office. On the last day to file, no candidates had filed by 9 a.m., and the deadline was noon. Joe approached the Republican County Chairman, Dr. Grant Hastings, who said he would be pleased if Eves filed and would back him all the way. Joe filed at 11 a.m., and his political career was on its way! That November, he defeated the Democratic candidate, Thomas Daniel of Deerfield, by more than 200 votes.

Lakinite Ed Stullken, a former representative, gave the newbie some words of advice. He said Joe might be somewhat disappointed in his first legislative session and that the legislators who had served a few terms did not care to have many opinions or speeches from “first-termers.” Stullken encouraged Eves to mainly listen, learn and build an appearance and reputation. Joe found Stullken’s gentle direction to be helpful. In 1949, Joe was given the chairmanship of the Fees and Salaries Committee. This committee turned out to be very successful and overhauled the entire salary structure of all county and state officers. At a night session of the Legislature during this time, Joe had the floor for three and one-half hours. He had a keen wit and “Missouri” drawl, both of which he used to persuade other lawmakers to follow his lead. After one of Joe’s more popular speeches, he was given a 15-minute standing ovation. He was referred to many times by his colleagues as “the much-loved barn-yard philosopher.”

The same year that Joe was named Speaker Pro-Tem, he was appointed to the Legislative Council. A seat on the council was a coveted position as only 15 members from the House and 10 from the Senate were chosen. As the Majority Floor Leader or Whip, Joe’s duties were to see that Republican policies and legislation were pushed through for action. He was appointed chairman of the Calendar Committee at that time too which enabled him to keep strict control of the House’s order of business. As a joke, the House presented Joe with a set of branding irons, one with a “Y’ and the other with an “N”, so that he would be able to separate the yes votes from the no votes. They had a lot of fun with those irons although Joe never used them. After serving as chairman on the committee to remodel the House Chamber, Rep. Eves was asked to overseer the work when the bill passed both the House and Senate in 1955 but Eves declined the offer because of the inconvenience of living so far from Topeka. He served 14 consecutive years before he made the decision to run instead for state senator. Joe failed in this bid, but in 1964, he secured another two-year term in the House. Eves became close with Governors Andy Schoeppel, Frank Carlson and Edward Arn, and while Joe was always a staunch Republican, some of his best friends in the Legislature were Democrats. Following his service in the Legislature, Joe maintained a strong interest in Republican politics and served as the Kearny County Republican chairman as well as other positions.

Joe was the Kearny County Farm Bureau Insurance agent for 25 years, and even after his retirement, he continued to handle hail and crop insurance. He also farmed. Joe was a member of the First Presbyterian Church where he served as an elder, deacon and treasurer. A member of the Emerald Lodge for over 50 years and a member of the Eastern Star, Joe served as District Deputy Grand Master for Kansas in 1951-52 and Grand Senior Steward in 1957. A World War I veteran, Eves served many years as an officer of the Shepherd-Moore Post.

Joe married Rosamond James in “a quiet wedding at the Methodist parsonage in Deerfield” in September of 1932. Rosamond’s parents, John and Elizabeth, had come to Kearny County with their family in 1910 settling north of Deerfield, and Mr. James eventually became a county commissioner. Rosamond attended school at Deerfield then Emporia College before teaching in rural schools and at Lakin. Like Joe, she was a member of the Presbyterian Church and was a past matron of the Lakin Chapter of the Order of Eastern Star. She was a life-long member of the 20^th Century Club and served as county chairman of the Kansas Republicans Women’s Club.

Joe and Rosamond had one daughter, Phyllis Hendrix, and four sons – Daryl, Raymond, Edgar and Donald. Don was killed on Christmas Day 1952 in an automobile accident nine miles west of Dodge City. The popular 17-year-old Lakin High School student was with his brother Daryl and three friends on their way to a Christmas party when their vehicle struck an icy spot on the highway, skidded out of control and hit a tree. The 1952-53 Bronc annual was dedicated in Don’s memory.

Rosamond Catherine James Eves died in 1978, and Joseph Milton Eves passed away in 1987. Their former home, a quaint cottage with gingerbread trim, is located on the northwest corner of Prairie and Western. Although the house was completed in 1904 for the Archibald Brooks family and was later owned by Clarence and Ella Thorpe, old-timers will always refer to the home as “the Eves house.”

SOURCES: Diggin’ Up Bones by Betty Barnes; History of Kearny County Vols. I & II; an article written by the late Phyllis Hendrix for Meadowlark Notes, newsletter of the Kearny County Senior Center; information provided by the late Dorothy Thorpe Weber; 1952-53 Bronc; property tax collection registers; Museum archives; and archives of the Lakin Investigator, Advocate, Independent, and Ulysses News.

This little angel is reaching out to say “Merry Christmas” and to let you know that the Kearny County Museum will be closed to the public from Dec. 24 until Dec. 30. Pictured is Donnie Bohl in 1945. Myrna Michel was to be the angel for the Christmas play at Columbia School, but she was sick with the flu so Donnie was her substitute. We think he looks pretty darling!

(This story was written by the late Helen Kysar and appeared in the December 7, 1975 Methodist LIFE. Helen Grusing Kysar was born in 1906 at Salem, Oregon, the daughter of John and Anna Grusing. She moved with her family to Kearny County as a child, and after graduating from Lakin High School, she attended Fort Hays State University. Helen taught school in Kearny County before marrying Preston Kysar in 1930. After a brief time in Ellis County, they moved back to the Lydia area in Kearny County and then into Lakin in 1971. Helen was a member of the Lydia United Methodist Church in rural Kearny County and attended the Lakin United Methodist Church after moving into town. She died at the age of 96 on Christmas Day 2002.)

Even though the times were hard and the going was rough in the early days on the plains, nearly twenty-five miles from town, there are many fond memories for me to remember. As I think back and remember how scant were the things which we now take for granted, it would seem we could not be as happy as children are today. But they were as happy (maybe, more so) than today. And, of course, Christmas time was the happiest time of the year.

One of the things that stands out in my memory of Christmas on the plains was the Christmas program at the small country church. The Christmas program was always on Christmas Eve. The church building set rather alone on the prairie and it seemed as if it could gather all the coldness there was to spare of the whole neighborhood. A large pot-bellied stove stood in the center of the building. When the day before Christmas arrived, my father would start the fire early in the morning so that the whole building could be warmed through and not have to have such a hot fire in the center of the room with the outer edges of the room freezing cold.

There would always be a tall Christmas tree decorated with a few beautiful ornaments (how they acquired them, I do not know), yards and yards of strung popcorn and real candles. While the candles were lit, two young men stood behind the tree equipped with long sticks, the tips covered with cotton. A bucket of water stood nearby. In case a candle burned down or caught the tree afire, the cotton tipped stick would be plunged hastily in the water and snuff out the candle. How beautiful was that tree to welcome the people in! Two kerosene hanging-lamps hanging from the tall ceiling and six bracket lamps on the walls, one at each window, added to the cheeriness and warmth of the welcome.

Because there was no other place to go, everybody went to church. The families came in lumber wagons and spring wagons, the father and mother and maybe a youngster or two on the front seat. Hay was put in the wagon bed and the rest of the children would sit on the hay with comforters put over them to keep them warm. The horses were tied to the long hitching rails near the church during the program and the comforters were put on their backs to keep them warm.

The Christmas programs were similar to today although in those days literature and program books were scarce and many times the recitations by the children were verses from the Bible pertaining to the birth of Christ. I remember one evening very distinctly when the whole program consisted of songs and reciting Bible verses. I was reciting some verses from Luke 2 in front of the Christmas tree when suddenly my father who was sitting in the front pew motioned to the boys behind the tree that a candle had gone rampant. I was just sure my hair had caught on fire, or worse yet, that my beautiful new ribbon bow on my hair was afire. I almost forgot what I was to say. Strangely, the next words were “Fear not -.” The songs sung to the accompaniment of a pump organ were some of the very songs we sing today. Always the program ended with all singing the song, “Silent Night.” How happy we children would be because we knew that now was the time we would get our sacks of candy and nuts and maybe an orange. This being the only time that we would ever get candy, it was a great expectation for us. Every one present got a sack, handed out from wash boilers carried around by two young men.

Even though the years have passed and times have changed very much, it always has been the same Christmas spirit and the same story of Jesus’ birth.

 

Hopes were high that Lakin’s Methodist Church would be completed by Christmas of 1907, but that was one wish that Santa could not fulfill. Instead, the church was completed and dedicated on March 1^st of 1908. The house of worship had been a long time in the making.

Just newly ordained, Rev. William V. Burns arrived in Lakin in time to preach the first Sunday of April 1886. The April 3^rd Kearny County Advocate announced the new pastor as “a young man, sent specially by the conference to this work and we trust our people will give him a warm welcome.” The first quarterly conference of the M.E. Church for this circuit was organized at the residence of B.C. Parcells later that month, and Rev. Burn’s salary was fixed at $600. In addition to his duties at Lakin, Deerfield and Hartland, Burns also often preached at Sherlock (Holcomb).

At Lakin, the fresh-faced man of God delivered his sermons in the town hall. On June 12, 1886, the Pioneer Democrat announced that “considerable interest is being manifested in the church services held by Rev. W.V. Burns, and the city hall is nearly always crowded when he holds service there.” That week’s Advocate reported that Rev. Burns had organized a Methodist Episcopal Sunday school with W.P. Haywood as superintendent. The school was to meet at 10 a.m. every Sunday, “and our Methodist friends will no doubt work energetically to build up a flourishing and promising school.”

After the town hall was destroyed by a cyclone that July, Methodists began meeting in Holmes Hall which was on the second story of the building at Main and Waterman that would later become the county court house. Later, services were held in the brick schoolhouse that was completed in the fall of 1886, but discussions were already taking place about building a church. According to the September 4, 1886 Advocate, “The necessity of erecting a building for church purposes is pressing itself upon the minds of the membership, and after discussing the matter the question was thought to be both advisable and practicable, and steps were inaugurated looking to that end. We feel confident that our church going people will render aid to such a desirable undertaking.” Still, by the following summer, no church building was in the making. The Pioneer Democrat reported, “Rev. A.P. George P.E. Methodist church passed through Lakin Thursday evening. He says when this county seat question is settled he will attempt to build a church here, as he could not get the minds of the people in harmony until that time. We hope he will take hold of the matter and push things forward. We need a church and must have one.”

An August 1895 Lakin Index noted that a Metodist church was going to be erected that fall as several hundred dollars had already been promised; however, that did not come to fruition. By the turn of the century, Lakin’s Methodist congregation had reached the 100 mark, but there was still no church even though members had long been hoping to build one of their own. Then, in 1901, two lots were purchased at the corner of Kansas Street and Prairie Avenue. Construction did not begin until the summer of 1907 with the cornerstone being laid on September 29.

Dedication Day was a red-letter day for Methodists. At 11 a.m. on the first Sunday in March 1908, the new church was filled to capacity. Other churches dismissed their services and joined in the festive occasion of dedicating the church. Excellent music was rendered by a large choir made up of members of all the church choirs of the community. Methodist pastor, Rev. H.A. Schneider, along with Rev. Thomas of Lakin’s Presbyterian Church, Pastor A.W. Yale of the Baptist Church, and Rev. Dr. F.E. Mossman of Southwest College at Winfield, addressed those in attendance. Three services were held, and Rev. J.F. Irwin, the Presiding Elder of the district, administered communion at the afternoon service.

The building committee reported the cost of the building to be $3,600. According to a history of the church compiled by the late Hazel Stullken, the church was built with donations from many sources and from all denominations.  The Ladies Aid Society adopted a novel method of helping raise money for the new building. “The idea was an exemplification of the old adage, ‘take care of the pennies and the dollars will take care of themselves.’” The object was to gather a mile of pennies and to do that, each member was provided with a narrow strip of paper one foot in length. Each foot held 16 pennies. When the mile of pennies was received, the sum of $844.48 would be added to the building fund. A very large contingent from Deerfield also helped in a very material way in raising the necessary funds.  After footing up the pledges and contributions at the morning service on dedication day, the church was about $50 short of the necessary amount. “This was soon subscribed and the church was dedicated to the service of God.” There was no air conditioning and no plumbing, but Methodists believed it to be a splendid home for worship.

In 1927-28, the white frame building was raised and a full basement was put under it to provide kitchen and dining room space as well as additional Sunday school rooms. While this remodeling was being done, church and Sunday school were once again held in the building at Main and Waterman. By 1951, the Methodists had begun to think seriously of enlarging their facilities again. Times were good. Natural gas development in addition to greatly enlarged farming operations brought an unprecedented prosperity to the area. The last service in the old church was held on April 13, 1952. The building was sold, lifted off the basement and transported intact to north Buffalo Street where it was made into an apartment complex and where it still stands just across the street from the swimming pool.

 

SOURCES: “Lakin Methodist Church” by Nina Russell for History of Kearny County Vol. 1; “History of the M.E. Church Begins in ‘86” by Luella Stutzman; “Laity Sunday” by Hazel Stullken; Archives of Peabody Gazette-Herald, Garden City Telegram, Lakin Index, Pioneer Democrat, Kearny County Advocate, and Lakin Independent; and Museum archives.

 

Thank you Western Kansas Community Foundation for your generous grant of $5,000!