Brothwell’s mill. It was named New Clyde. Improvements were made in the settlement to establish a small hamlet. Later Hiram Brothwell took over the mill and put in a set of pony burrs about 32 inches in diameter. Chester Millard ran the mill from 1850 to 1867. Then, J.M. Stinemeyer, and later Frederick Stinemeyer, ran the mill. About the mid-1870s, they increased the size of the burrs to four feet in diameter. Frederick Stinemeyer died in 1894 and was buried in the Franklin Cemetery. At that time they had already put in copper burrs. I can remember them laying near the combined barn and crib at the H. T. Janssen place; however, when the price of copper rose, the copper burrs mysteriously disappeared Fred Stinemeyer’s son saved several relics from the old mill and his daughter, Gladys Garwick still has some today. She celebrated her ninetieth birthday last July.

Hough’s Mill
The next mill erected, a few mile south on Rock Creek, was built in 1839 by William P. Hiddleson on the west line of Section 26. It was called Hough’s Mill and is still standing today, but is known as Appel’s Mill. Hiddleson also put in a carding machine that prepared wool to be made into yarn by spinning. How the ladies would howl if they found sheep ticks in the wool they were spinning. One of their brave sons would have to put the ticks in the fire of the fireplace. Later, the mill was owned by Jacob Geyer, then his son, S.L. Geyer, and was known as Geyer’s Mill. After that it was run by B. Shriner, followed by Amos Grater (or Greater) who installed a set of rollers in 1885. The rollers were large stones with diagonal groves cut in them.

In the early 1900s George Appel ran the mill, followed by his son, John Appel. George Apple had only one eye and used to walk to our place north of White Pigeon to use our telephone to call Sylvester Zewiskee. I can’t tell you why he called Sylvester because my mother told me not to listen. I knew she meant it because she would close the door between the kitchen and the dining room where the phone was located and she didn’t listen either.

John Appel installed an oat huller. He made oatmeal, cornmeal, white and whole wheat flour, rye flour, middlings, shorts, and bran as well as buckwheat flour. It was known as the Malvern Milling Company. He sold to stores locally and to New York City. In fact, he even shipped some to England.

A barrel of flour weighed 140 pounds. Flour was sold locally in 49-pound calico-print sacks. After the sacks were empty, the women would make dresses and shirts out of them. Smaller amounts were put in paper bags stamped with the proper labeling.

John Appel had a McCormick-Deering tractor motor in his mill to boost the power when he ground a truck load of feed. He also generated power for his own lighting system. He did a lot of grinding for our local farmers before the days when they all had their own grinders. Every couple of weeks we would load up a wagon load of grain, haul it to the mill with a team of horses, back up the load to the pit, and Mr. Appel would grind it into an over-bin. Then we would drive the team so the wagon would be under the chute and Mr. Appel would pull the slide. The ground feed would come scooting out. You have to be ready with a scoop shovel so the wagon didn’t overflow. You didn’t dare have a wagon full of oats because the wagon wouldn’t hold all the ground feed. You soon learned to have a bang board on one side. Hulled oats became very popular for the hog farmers.

Bechtel Saw Mill
Midway between the Stinemeyer and Appel mills, Ephriam Bechtel built a wood oak frame dam on Rock Creek and dug a race to bypass the dam and supply power for a saw mill on what is now the Stuzke place due east of the Greenwood School. According to his grandson, Virgil Gerdes, he sawed a lot of walnut lumber. (Come to think of it, I believe there is a lot of walnut furnishings in David Gerdes old house, so, no doubt, it much have come from his father-in-law’s saw mill.) The Ephriam Bechtel family lived farther down the creek on the place Douglas Vandermyde now owns. It is located back in the lane from the south way, just north of Appel’s Mill. A house is no longer there, but, unknown to most people, the Bechtel’s are buried east of the buildings along a fence row. Mrs. Bechtel wanted to be buried so she could see the sun rise just as she did from the east window of her kitchen.

Milnes Mill
In 1840, Jospeh Milnes built a grist mill on Little Rock Creek in Section 28.. It was known as the Little Rock Creek Mill. In 1844, a post office was established there and Thomas Milnes became the first postmaster. It was called Clyde. I haven’t been in the area for a long time, but I don’t believe anything remains except traces of the race. The mill was torn down about 1895. The location today is just north of the bridge on Clover Road. From a distance it appears that a house or two have been built nearby.

White Pigeon Post Office
White Pigeon officially had a post office on December 26, 1876, in a combination house and store where Delbert Weets now lives. Jacob Greenwalt was the postmaster, followed by his son Adam. The last time I was in the house there were still some of the shelves built into the walls of the southeast room with the curved bay window. In the early 1900s, Adam purchased the land where he built a new house with a lean-to wing on the north side for a store. It was about 20 rods south of the “T” intersection of the Spring Valley and Pigeon Roads. On the south west corner of the intersection stood a large machine shed. I don’t know where exactly the west line cuts through, but it looks like it could have been just inside the Fred Stinemeyer farm. Fred died in 1894 and Louis, his son, bought quite a chuck of it. The road through White Pigeon and on south was not constructed on section lines, but follows the old trail routes, resulting in many curves.

The post office remained thee until the beginning of Rural Free Delivery (RFD) service on October 31, 1902. Then, the area became Route 1, Coleta, a subsidiary of the Sterling Post Office. However, when the Post Office Department mapped out the route, they didn’t take Rock Creek into consideration. It had the propensity to become the Mississippi River when there was a two-inch rain. I can remember as late as the 1920s, we would go to the Sterling Wholesale Company for supplies by going around the flooded area and getting a supply of mail from the Sterling Post Office. The first customer from the north, west, or south would take the mail on their line to their place, dropping the mail off as they went by each house. Then, they dropped the remaining mail at their next neighbor who, in turn, would pass it on to their next neighbor until it was all delivered. So, unofficially, the store remained a substitute post office well beyond its allotted years and reflected the neighborliness in the hearts of its residents.

Woodmen Hall
Just south of the White Pigeon store about five rods, the Modern Woodmen of America built a hall in the 1880s. Thy had a horse shed with stalls along side the hall and hitching post rails on the east side of the road. The store also had several hitching posts just to the north near the front entrance porch. The hall not only served the members, but the building was used for all the special events of the community—early settlers picnics, shivaree parties, vaudeville, Chautauqua, medicine shows, silent movies, magic shows, town meetings, and politicking. It was the local entertainment center supreme.

I saw my first silent movie there. I still remember it—The Fall of the Alamo—because they cut out the heart and the tongue of General Bowie. Those Mexicans were ferocious. When Lavelle and his wife put on their vaudeville acts, they would sell caramel candy in a box with a prize for a nickel. Mrs. Lavelle would make and wrap it in the afternoon and it was hardly cold when you ate it. A very rare, tasty, and delectable treat indeed. It’s no wonder I thought he was special; our family had not yet reached that stage of financial luxury to splurge on a five-cent box of candy with its treasure of dubious value.

Shivaree
There were shivaree parties with cake and ice cream at the hall. This was White Pigeon high society. I remember when the storekeeper’s daughter married the blacksmith’s son. That night people gathered at the store, fully equipped with their instruments of warfare—shotguns, saw blades, tin cans, worn-out dishpans, sticks, perfect pitched wolf calls, and Dave Stultz’s sea shell. It took a very windy man to blow it and he was a bulwark of a Pennsylvania Dutchman. No doubt you could have heard it in Chadwick if you were outside listening. Anyway, Carl and Elsey were conspicuous by their absence, but Dave and Ted Wells found them hiding under the bed in a spare bedroom over the kitchen porch. It turned out to be not such a safe hiding place from the shivareers. When they brought them outside, Carl said “Whatcha want?” That was the wrong thing to say. Bedlam broke out all over the yard. When it quieted down a bit, little half-pint Herbert “Guy” Habben piped up in his high-pitched pipey voice, “25 dollars!” Carl let out a mournful groan of considerable shock (that was a month’s wages) and said, “What do you think I am; a banker?” Banker or not, Gustave, his father, certified that they would see us all at the Woodman Hall on such and such a night. All the ladies to bring cakes please; and they all did. The sorrow of the occasion turned into a gala event.

School Plays at the Hall
When a school held a play at the hall, they would announce it over the ten party telephone lines. The central switchboard operator would ring ten short rings in rapid succession. This signal alerted every telephone owner to listen. It could be a serious emergency or just an announcement for a school play. It was a sure-fire whistle call; just as effective and much cheaper than the 911 service today. That evening the chores were done early and the family that lived the farthest away would start out walking early to White Pigeon, pick up the next neighbor, and so on until by the time they all arrived at the hall, there would be a whole herd of people coming from three directions to provide a hall-filled crowd for their special enjoyment.

Did you ever see a school put on a minstrel show? They were a delight to the entire community. I can remember when Greenwood (Pigeon) School put on one. They had a man in black face throwing his voice all over the place and another man in black face running to wherever the first man was supposed to be throwing his voice. The second man would stomp his feed loudly so the audience could hear it and then provide the echo. For the finale he decided to throw his voice to the ceiling. Then the other man came on stage and talked into his ear with a loud voice, “where’s the stepladder?”

Near Disaster
I can remember walking back home with the neighbors one time when we passed Joker Modler’s place and he went into his house. Joker hollered to the others to come back. When he had left the hall, he had blown out the front room kerosene lamp and embers from the burning wick must have somehow fallen into the kerosene, but did not ignite immediately. However, it exploded later, scattering flaming kerosene all over the room. It burned some curtains and wallpaper nearly to the ceiling. Since the room had been shut up tightly, it lacked oxygen and, consequently, the fire soon burned out. Miracles did happen in the good old “blazing” days.

Medicine Shows
The medicine shows always had cure-alls to sell, plus entertainment to get you there and get you in a good mood. I saw one ask a neighbor boy if he was hungry and the boy, expecting something delicious to eat, said, “yes.” The man said, “I thought so, “ as he pulled a long link of weiners from underneath the bib of the boy’s overalls. Was that boy ever shocked! As the crowd roared, the boy looked under his bib in disbelief. Now, you courting-age scalawags don’t laugh so hard, because he asked one of the young men if he was married and he shook his head, “no.” Then the man pulled a diaper and a baby bottle full of milk out of the young man’s pocket. Was that young man’s face red and was he the subject of much good-natured kidding afterward.

One show sold Krugon as an elixir tonic and almost everyone bought several bottles. It was so good you needed to have more than one bottle. I believe every one who bought a bottle made several trips to Maude Jones the next day. Yes, people thought it really worked. Another show had Kickapoo Indian Sagwa made from roots, herbs, and bark, which was supposed to purify your blood and cure all diseases of the stomach, liver, and kidneys. Somehow most kids thought it tasted like vermifuge, their worm medicine that tasted positively repulsive. The taste would kill any worm. Even though you though you would die from drinking it, you couldn’t die because you were just too sick to die. The Kickapoo Indian salve that was for cuts, bruises, and burns was so healing that one old timer said that it would heal up the crack in the door, if you can believe that. They also had a cure for coughs, colds, hoarseness, and all diseases of the throat and lungs. If you used it, you would never need to have your tonsils removed. And, the fellow said if you used ground-up orange peel with a couple of drops of Iodine on it, it was a cure for goiter. It’s funny, but a lot of people were suddenly convinced they had a goiter. Also, many a young sheik bought some hickory-nut cream to plaster down his hair. Some old timers called them “plastered nuts.”
Greenwood School

The first school in the White Pigeon areas was built in 1848 and was located about 20 rods south of the store and later the Woodmen Hall. It was a 10 by 12 log cabin under a spreading oak tree and was made from roughly-hewn logs with the bark left on the sides. They left open a few cracks for light with thin hides stretched over them. Likewise, there was a heavier hide for the door. It was very modern for that day as it had a puncheon floor. A puncheon floor is made of small logs with one side hewn off to make it flat.

The chimney above the fireplace was plastered with clay and the fire pot was made of rock with granite rock next to the fire. The fireplace and chimney needed constant repair until enough iron could be found to protect the rock from the blaze of the fire. Of course, a keg or barrel of water was always setting near just in case the fire got out of control or flying sparks ignited the wood.

The furniture was a log bench with limb legs and three-legged stools, which was sufficient for the comfort of the students and teacher.

Makeshift Shelters
When a settler arrived at a place suitable to him, he hurriedly made a makeshift shelter. My great great grandfather had a tent of elkskin covering that he brought with him from Michigan. Others constructed a wickiup, a bark-covered tent, in which they lived and kept their supplies. Oftentimes it became necessary to survive in very cold weather to move in with another family that had a cabin. Crowding people into a small area wasn’t a problem. One 14 by 14 cabin could hold two families of 15 people with only one homemade bed and the floor providing sleeping quarters for everyone. Believe it or not, they lived on peaceful terms. Who said necessity wasn’t the mother of invention? A few built themselves a dugout cabin by digging a pit in the ground about four feet deep and siding it with small logs. Then, larger logs were place on top of the ground for another could of feet. They filled the chinks with clay, covered the top with logs, brush, prairie grass, and dirt, leaving a few places open for light. They built an outside cellar way for an entrance using rocks for steps. Now they had luxurious accommodations complete with a fireplace. I just have to wonder how the fire got enough draft; maybe the cracks in the walls and the doorway supplied enough air.

Breaking the Prairie
Breaking the prairie was a tremendous task, so the early settlers usually settled along the creeks where the soil was looser, even though the terrain was quite boggy, as it was there that the Indians had planted their corn. They made plows from a small twisted tree for a moldboard. The land side bar was four to five feet long. The share was three to four feet long. It would make a slab furrow about two and one half to three feet wide. What a job it was to work it up and it taxed the strength of their horses, especially when they couldn’t make it scour.

Many times this land would overflow and they would lose their crop. However, the housewife was very resourceful and would dry all kinds of greens, leaves, and berries and smoke meat to preserve it. Game and fish were plentiful. One of the first crops planted was potatoes; they produced heavily in the loose prairie soil. The old Nerchannocks was the favorite variety.The first grain sown was wheat, followed by corn. Mmmm! That cornbread was delicious. Long-soaked and cooked whole-wheat kernels made an excellent cooked breakfast food.

Nuts Are Delicious
They gathered many kinds of nuts, and what fun it was to crack them in the wintertime by the light of a crackling fire. There were walnuts, hickory nuts, butternuts, bitternuts, hazelnuts, chestnuts, and even acorns. If you have never eaten fresh roasted acorns, they are more delicious than the peanuts of today.

Hot Drinks Tantalize the Taster
The early settlers made their own drink. No, they didn’t have imported coffee or Japanese tea, but they roasted wheat, rye, burnt potatoes, and bread for coffee. Today they call it postum and it contains no caffeine. Our neighbors used to drink rye coffee. They would roast it in the cook stove oven. It smelled deliciously tempting. They would grind it in a coffee grinder. For tea, they dried penny royal, sassafras, peppermint, and catnip leaves, and also dried elderberry blossoms. I’ve drunk hot elderberry tea many a time for a cold before going to bed at night. They also made wine and whiskey. Whiskey was used as a solvent for medicine as well as a disinfectant. Drink some diluted hot whiskey and raisins before going to bed at night and, as the medicine show barker would say, “It would kill off any bug in your system.”

The Hired Man and Hired Girl
Men’s wages were from 25 cents to 50 cents a day. Ladies got from 50 cents to one dollar per week. Often times the older girls would be loaned out for their board. Likewise, to a degree, with the oldest boy if there was a large family. He would come home during the three winter months and perhaps go to school, trap for furs and meat, hunt, and cut wood for fuel. Making a living was a full time, yearlong job. Even in the evening the ladies would shuck beans, spin yard, sew, knit, and even roast acorns. The men whittled and made axe, hammer, maul, and fork handles, as well as wooden skates, baseball bats, whang leather strings. Or, they would clean and polish guns, sharpen knives, mutt and tallow shoes and boots, make rope, repair harness, and even made moccasins from deer hide.

The Highly Educated Uneducated
The early settlers ere intelligent, moral, and law-abiding, God fearing people. The Holy Bible was their only source of reading material, and they made good use of it. They associated freely with their family and neighbors. All were poor in money; they didn’t need it because they couldn’t eat it, wear it, or work with it. Everyone had the same needs. They soon learned how, by sharing with their neighbors, they could accomplish more. If anyone was in dire need, they invited that person to share their lot, or they would help them overcome their predicament. In summer frolics they indulged in spearing fish at night by the light of burning hickory bark or burning pitch pots. In the fall they would join in hog hunts, hunt deer and wolves—those pesky critters that loved to seize little pigs, lambs, and even bigger hogs and calves. They tell me that one time a pack of wolves attacked a bunch of hogs. By the time the settlers came to see what was the commotion all about, the hogs had turned their backs to each other in a circle so their mouths were facing out in every direction. The poor wolves say only the bared tusks of their mouths. They were completely stymied in their efforts to get a delicious meal of pork. These early porkers were call land pikers. Did you ever hear a pack of wolves go down the valley at night? It really made bushels of goose bumps go up and down your spine. The dogs would crawl into the deepest hiding place and the next morning they would still be there. You would have a difficult time locating them and getting them out for their breakfast.

The First Fourth of July Celebration in Pigeon Country

The first Fourth of July celebration that I have heard about had approximately 50 people present. The Indians outnumbered the white people by a large margin. Rock Creek was full of canoes. The Indians had a merry time as there was plenty of food for everyone. A gay time was had by rolling a round stone game ball. As often the case, some fire water was put to worldly use. They didn’t tell me if some of the Indians rode in two canoes at the same time going back to their camp.

They Had Tornados Also
When a tornado was suspected or spotted, the settlers made a mad dash for their cellars where they put the children in oak barrels while the adults huddled next to the walls behind the barrels. They tell me that one time a fellow didn’t get into the door on time. His wife was trying to hold the door shut so the wind wouldn’t blow it open. Then the tornado took off the door hurling both of them out into the field. A neighbor found them both hurt badly; but, miraculously they lived. They found chickens that didn’t have any feathers on them and some weeds were blown through an inch board. You need not believe this account—fish stories grow with age—but the fellow who told me this story (he is long gone now) said, “By Dolly, it’s the truth. I saw this with my own eyes.” So, I’ll let you decide.

1837 Funeral
The coffin was an old wagon box placed on an open wagon drawn by a yoke of oxen. There was such a shortage of nails and other materials needed to make a coffin that one man had to sit in the wagon and hold it together while another man drove the oxen from the home of the deceased to the place of burial. The mourners hiked solemnly behind, led by a circuit rider Methodist pastor.

Religion
Many of the early settlers were professors of religion and brought a deep-seated and lasting reverence for the Bible, the Sabbath, and the ordinances of the church. This reverence could be expected from those who could read because they didn’t have magazines, books, and newspapers that made your decisions for you. But, they had their precious Holy Bible. It brought an indomitable spirit of justice, perseverance, and hope into their lives. They were not long without religious services. Sabbath observance was heightened by the Methodist circuit riders who were full of zeal and extremely proficient in proclaiming the downfall of hellfire to the smattering of settlers in outdoor camp meeting and in cabins where the settlers met to have the Word of Life proclaimed.

Early Churches and Sunday Schools
The early settlers of White Pigeon went to church at Figi in Genesee Grove. William Wilson formed a Sunday School Society in 1841 at North Clyde. Methodist circuit riders came to preach in various homes that would open their doors to them, as well as hold camp meetings. It was not until 1872 that they built a small single gable frame church. Rev. L.C. Conant was the first pastor with 25 members. Thomas Guilliland was Superintendent of the approximately 50 members of the church school. There was a cemetery next to the church.

In the mid-1860s, a group of Adventists built a church on the hill in Section 26, about a mile northeast of Malvern. However, the church was poorly attended and about 1868 they sold it to the Dunkards, who extensively remodeled it. They put a divider in and an upstairs where members from a distance could sleep when they had camp meetings. It really thrived. They were also known as the River Brethren. They often had sermons in German by an aged preacher from Pennsylvania. Each year they had large meetings held in a big barn or grove. Often they were called bush or camp meetings with several hundred people in attendance. One particular time a preacher who gave the second sermon chose as the text of his message, “I am the door.” Then he took off his coat and talk on some of the Dunkard customs. He told how the parting of men’s hair in the middle and ladies wearing sunbonnets was done to distinguish them from the “world’s” people. At noon they would have a sumptuous dinner followed by some sulfur and brimstone preaching. The dinner brought the sinner there and the preaching saved his soul. A pretty good combination, “nicht wehr.”

Rev. Gerdes told me one time that they followed the true teachings of Martin Luther better than the Lutheran churches of his day. To wit I could answer, “Hooray for the Dunkards!” May all church denominations live peaceably together, as did the Disciples as they walked this world with our Lord, giving hope of salvation to all people everywhere to whomsoever would but listen. The church was torn down and the good lumber was moved to another site. In 1940, John Appel bought the land; however, the cemetery remains today.

In 1868 and Evangelical Methodist Church was built at Fair Haven, followed by a mission at Morrison in 1872. It included Morrison, Aldritt School, South Clyde School, and Coleta. In 1873 the mission was attached tot he Black Oak Mission, but was discontinued in 1876 in favor of the Fairhaven Methodist. In 1884 a Sunday School class was started in the Malvern School with Willard Murry (the Malvern storekeeper) as leader. By 1888 there were 47 members. They finished building the church on October 25, 1896. It was a white gothic style church with a belfry and bell. The land was donated by William Detra. In 1922 the Greenwood Sunday School led by Ella Traum joined the Malvern Congregation. The church closed a few years ago and the members joined with the Coleta and Morrison Methodists. A couple went to Fairhaven. Kophammer bought the buildings. Today, sad to say, only a bare piece of land remains.

The Brethren in Christ Church at Franklin Corners in Section 10 was built on a half acre of land on the northwest corner of the Harrison Garwick farm. Later on they acquired a quarter acre more land for a series of horse sheds in one long building. It was on the east side of the church, running from the road on south past the church. It was open on the east side and had double stalls where a team could be driven in for shelter. When I was a small child I was always fascinated by that long shed-like building. Among the early members of the church were the Abe Zook, Jake Garwick, Jake George, and Fred Stinemeyer families. A few of the pastors that I can remember were Rev. Abraham Zook, Rev. Samuel Stump, Rev. Franklin, Rev. Cober, Rev. Book (who had one of the longest tenures in the pulpit), and Rev. McCullough.

Mount Carmel Home
The Mt. Carmel Orphanage was founded in 1900 on the 40-acre farm in Section 10 of Rev. and Mrs. Abram G. Zook. It had a 13-room house and still stands today as does the little cement block schoolhouse, which was build in 1915. The orphanage was taken over by the Brethren in Christ Conference in 1912. In 1945 the schoolhouse was converted into a small house for the workers. The orphanage was remodeled and enlarged to a 19-room house according to the needs.

Most of the children came from the Chicago area. I can remember they raised a black girl. She later left the home and married a man named Bates from Chicago. In 1924 when Will Smith was in charge, they came to our place to pick cherries, and pick cherries they did. Imagine the work involved in picking 24 bushels of cherries. They paid the huge sum of $1 per bushel. Billy and Clifford Bates were in the crew. Billy, the elder, was very dark and had a typical nature of his cousins. He did very little picking and at one time hollered, “Uncle Will! Come quick! A bee! A bee!” Whether a ruse or not, Uncle Will came quickly, but Billy’s hair was so kinky tight that the bee wasted all his stinging. He was a member of the knot hole gang at Wrigley Field. Kiki Cuyler, the right fielder, was his favorite player. Now Clifford was light skinned and a very diligent worker. Some of the other workers beside Will Smith were: Harvey Hoak, Myrtle Zook, Alma Bollinger, May Donaldson, Aaron Tyson, and Geneva Cober.

Malvern
Malvern is located in Section 35. A post office was established there on December 4, 1877, with William D. Hayes the postmaster. It lasted until the beginning of Rural Free Delivery on October 31, 1902. The store at the “T” intersection was run by Willard “Pat” Murray. I can remember him sitting in his rocking chair by the heating stove reading the paper with his half-sized spectacles and mustache, smoking a pipe. He would always chat a bit before he ambled behind the counter to wait on his customers. One day Lew Riglin came into the store; Pat was sound asleep and the cushion of his rocking chair was smoking. That called for instant action. Willard burned holes in his breeches and got a hot seat plus a lot of good-natured ribbing. Everyone loved him. The church was just across the road to the east.

On the southeast corner lived Charlie Detra who was the township assessor. One morning after Halloween his democrat buggy was perched atop the church. The most interesting thing was that it was fun putting the buggy on top, piece by piece, in the dark; but, when the ambitious young men took it down, they discovered the buggy was up very high with nothing substantial on which to hold. Air can give one an eerie feeling.

Malvern had a second store west four or five houses from Murray’s store. It was run by Charlie Wells and he had an implement store along with it. Later Art Reap ran it. Several years later, just to the west, they had a junkyard. Then across the road to the south, Larkey had a machine shop. During World War I they had a very popular athletic club, a baseball team, and basketball team that used a peach basket without a bottom. They used to run up around 100 points against such pedigreed wolves as the Savanna Indians and never got scalped. The school was north o the town proper at the Coyne bend that led up the hill to the Dunkard Church or down the hill to Appel’s Mill. They completely outdid poor little White Pigeon with it’s school, Woodmen Hall, the store (at one time two stores), Greenwalt’s machine shop, and the saw and grist mill down by Rock Creek.

A Fellow Named Ed Was Ahead of His Times
Some of the early settlers were pioneers of the problems we face in our country today. For instance, there was a fellow named Ed who went west to California during the Gold Rush of 1850 to make himself a quick wad of folding green in the form of gold dust. He mined for 10 years without hitting the jackpot (just like the lottery players of today). He had left his wife stranded while he was gone, so she got a divorce and married another soil tilling buckaroo. When Ed returned to Clyde Township, he found out that he had lost his happy home. But, Ed was a resourceful man, not to be denied. He moon-eyed her and got reconciliation with his ex-wife. Believe it or not, they were remarried and lived happily ever after; that is, until he moon-eyed another lassie who just happened to become his second wife. So that is what happens when you go gallivanting to California and get mixed up with gold dust fever. Ed got himself married to his second wife for the second time. Are you still with me? Anyway, there were seven children by the first wife and seven children by the second wife. I guess you could say that it was two even-steven deals with no partiality. By the way, Ed had a part interest in a distillery; just maybe he was seeing double.

Music
The old timers had plenty of music. In the Spring, they started out wit the frogs croaking. They said the pond had to freeze over three times after you heard the frogs croaking before it was time to work the ground. The geese honked and the ducks quacked as the came back from the south-land. The roosters crowed early each morning and the old hens cackled each day after laying an egg. The cows mooed, calves bellowed, hogs squealed, pigs grunted, groundhogs whistled, dogs barked, foxes yipped, and coyotes wailed; all blending together in a fortissimo chorus of classical crescendos, harmoniously blended with the tuneful harmonic variations of the rain crow, the cardinal, the Jenny Wren, the whippoorwill, and the bob-white. All these blending together euphoniously into nature’s symphony of classical rhythms in the glens of White Pigeon. This music was followed by an unrealistic movement into a comedy of errors in the insect season when the flies hissed, bees buzzed, and bumble bees droned, katydids semi-quavered, and crickets chirped.

Apples Are Temtacious and Other Fruit
The old orchards had many kinds of apples and other fruit. As fall drew near, the merry voices of school children walking to school echoed over the hills in gay tuneful overtures as they spied delicious applies just waiting to be picked. It didn’t matter if they were over the fence. Just clothes, and not children, are allergic to barbed wire fencing. The Maiden Blush, Greasy Pippin, sweet and sour Pound (it would take you two days to eat one), Greenings, Smoke House, Oats Harvest, Sheepnose or Jills, Russets, Red Snow, Whitney Crab, Ben Davis, Strawberry, Talisman Sweet, Northern Spy, and Baldwin, to name a few of the apples grown then.

We mustn’t forget the persimmons which would pucker up your mouth like you were chewing slippery elm. But, wait until one fell into a snowdrift and it was the most delicious smack dabbing taste imaginable.

Do you remember the Hawkeye Red Peach? It was the most delectable peach known to man; even better than the Seckel Sugar Pear. It was so juicy that it would squirt in your eye, nose, and face all at the same time. I can remember my dad’s cousin eating them out in the orchard as the mosquitoes were drilling in his bald spot and he didn’t even notice them. The power of taste over pain is greater than that of an aspirin tablet.

Old Timers vs. the Young Whippersnappers
Old timers say that life has gone from ways of simplicity to what they consider utter confusion. People today can’t, or won’t, take time to enjoy natural things. Are we living too fast for conditions? Modern culture has filled us with tensions and unrest. Respect for things that we once held dear, and that made life worthwhile a few years ago, are gone like the kite flying so high that the string snaps from its own weight. In other words, you find your life’s accomplishments gone. We should let our lives be like a snowflake that is unique and leaves a mark but not a stain.

Did You Ever?
On April Fool’s Day, did you ever make a chocolate peanut cluster using navy beans in place of peanuts, or make fudge with cotton covered with chocolate? Did your mother ever put salt in the sugar bowl for breakfast and have your father put a heaping spoonful in his coffee or you put two spoonfuls on your oatmeal?

Do you remember the old telephone; the upright kind with the received on one side and the crank on the other? Then did you hear the noise when an eavesdropper wanted to use the line and put the receiver next to the mouthpiece to create a feedback squeal?

Little girls in days gone by wore angelic wings at times but those wings have been known to slide up to their heads and become horns. Did you ever see a group of girls feed cats horseradish on bits of bread and hear the ensuing meows and see the feline’s painful contortions resulting in little girl’s short-lived laughter, until …

Did you ever read a leap year letter of the 1880s written by a love-swooned White Pigeon lassie, who is approaching spinsterhood age, to an unsuspecting special beau prospect? It is indicative of the fact that people of that era knew how to write amorous love letter, which, no doubt, is a lost art today. Here is one such example:

White Pigeon’s Early School Teachers

The school teachers in the mid-1800s and for years later were mostly men and many of them moonlighted as preachers. It was a one-room school heated by a pot-bellied stove that would glow red on real cold days. Classes were held from three to seven months, depending on the day work available for the teacher. Those teachers believed in the old ways for a perfect education—kindly, but stern. They followed the Golden Rule and the three “Rs” and encouraged their pupils to be mindful and observe the beauties of nature—God gave it to us in such abundance. Being surrounded by nature, the pupils just couldn’t ignore it.

Teachers kept a Bible on their desk that was read to and by the pupils each morning before classes started. That reading was followed by a prayer, a hymn or a patriotic song, and the Pledge of Allegiance to the flag of the United States of America. It’s difficult to believe now, but they all said grace before they opened their dinner bucket at noon. Occasionally on a Friday afternoon, they hurried up to finish their classes so they could have a spelling bee before going home. Many times they pitted the boys against the girls; it sure made better spellers out of the boys. Can you just imagine a country boy letting a girl out-spell him? The boys did excel many times because the girls didn’t go to school as long as did the boys. I’ve heard about boys being as old as the teacher because they only went to school during the three winter months when farm work was slack. No wonder they had men teachers so the boys wouldn’t get moon-eyed.

White Pigeon’s Early Trail Roads
Before the land was surveyed, the settlers blazed trail roads through the trees and brush where it provided the least resistance. My great, great grandfather’s brother used to take a couple of oxen and make a path to Figi by pulling a small tree through the brush and briars so that his children wouldn’t get lost. The trails usually led to the nearest mill or trading post. No doubt you have wondered why houses are located back in lanes off of today’s roads. The answer is that they were located on a trail road before the section roads were established. On of the few trail roads remaining is the trail road through White Pigeon. As you go east from White Pigeon, you come to a dead end at the Sumption place and have to turn north. Years ago, there wasn’t a road going north, instead, it turned northeast into Janssen’s forty to Stinemeyer’s mill at what used to be called New Clyde, which also had a post office beginning in 1844. About a quarter of a mile northeast of the Sumption place in a ravine in the timber there used to be an old dug well that was lined with about six feet of oak plank. At one time there used to be a cabin there. There is evidence that here was where Samuel Wressel built the first cabin in the area.

Another trail road went south of White Pigeon as it winds today from the Greenwood school house to the Harvey Stuarts. I can remember going to Malvern with my dad and Dave Stultz by team and spring wagon. As you got to the school house, the fences stopped and the trees grew completely over the road. Some of the tree tops on one side of the road touched the tops of the trees on the other side of the road. They stopped to talk to a couple of fellows cutting wood and when they went onward, Dave said to my dad that one of the fellows cutting wood was named Brown and that he was an infidel. That scared the living daylights out of me. I didn’t know what that was, but it sure sounded worse than the boogie man. So, when we came back, I climbed under the spring seat, but they had quit cutting wood by then. Boy, was I relived!

Another road ran from the Olson (Jones) place to Kuebler’s (Linton) to Garret Fredericks (Larry Sumption) to a mill where Genz now lives. Another trail road started at the Bryson place where it was joined by the trails from the mill. It forded Rock Creek and went to the valley of the hill northeast of Habben’s house, through the northeast corner of our timber (William Schultz place), to the Howe (Donald Burkholder’s), which was about 20 rods southeast of Burkholder’s today. Then it went northwest to across the road south from the Farthing place. There used to be a stone basement of a house there when we went to Franklin School. At one time there was a farm both north and south of the present road. The trail then went to the catalpa grove south of the Franklin School where there was a set of buildings. A fellow by the name of Nolte has been recorded as owning it. I can remember going into the catalpa grove in the spring of the year when I was going to school and finding wild onions and putting them on my noonday sandwiches. Finding onions there gives credence to the fact that there must have been buildings there at one time. The trail proceeded westerly to north of the Lopez house, where there used to be a pump in the field of the Mission place operated by Roy Lee Book. This set of buildings was occupied at one time by a Franklin family. That is the reason it became known as Franklin(s) Corners. When the surveyed roads were built they had narrow right-angle turns. When you had loads of long lumber, it was necessary to unload it to turn the corner and then reload it. Sometimes this necessitated extra help. Consequently, the people living at the crossroads became an important asset and they left their trademark name of identification associated with their corner.

I can remember that it was sometimes difficult to turn a corner with a load of hay. I know you won’t believe this, but as an old Englishman used to say, “By golly, just wait until you try it sometime.” The corner at Louis Stinemeyer’s going north was a dozy. There was a steep dip in the road going north and you had to pull as far as you could to the east with the front side of the wagon so the back side wouldn’t hit the west side. This maneuver made the hay rack tip precariously. If you missed the sides, then the center of gravity would be outside your wagon and that would mean reloading your hay; plus the fact that your team might get spooked and run away. Who said it wasn’t interesting in the old days?

The trail roads joined just east of the Bryson place and went along the south side of the Kilday place to Figi. Train roads emanated from Figi like spokes on a wheel because Figi was the first place of industry. People then moonlighted as the postmaster, storekeeper, preacher and teacher, cabinetmaker, boot maker, and blacksmith. You would think that Figi would have become a metropolis; but, remember that people were few and money almost didn’t exist. Therefore, they bartered, exchanged, or traded their surplus for something they needed.

Another trail road started at Figi, went to the Litzrocht place (Bushman’s), to the John Winkey place, where there are no longer any buildings (about 40 rods north of the houses across the road from Flood’s), to the Reinhard Habben estate with a spring house, to the George Heide place (Richard Williams), and forded Rock Creek just east of Milford Habben’s. Across the road from Milford Habben’s crib on the side of the hill was an old stone house with a spring running out from the basement. This house was the stopping place on a spur of the old Peoria to Galena road. What a lot of tales this old stone house could tell about the early days, if it could talk. Just east, south, and west of it are a considerable number of small-acreage lots shown on early plat maps. However, as yet I haven’t found any special name for it, but I know there must be a name. Early settlers lived in wood lots to survive the harsh winters and to have wood for fuel. Then they would buy additional land on which to grow crops. Will Heide has said that this stage stopping stone house was used to send and receive mail. The mail would come from Dixon where there was a ferry over Rock Creek operated by John Dixon.

From the Grapevine

New Clyde had a doctor in 1848—Dr. W.C. Fraser. It is not known if he was a real doctor or a quack. Many medicine shows had men called doctors; but, they proved to be quacks. Dr. Wright from Fairhaven was a real doctor. One Sunday morning he took a man behind the Brethren in Christ Church, gave him a shot of whiskey, poured the whiskey on his knife, backed his head against the wall, and cut out his tonsils. After which they both went back into the church for a soul-cleansing sermon.

The stone house with the spring flowing from the cellar on the side of the hill, Section 1 Clyde was known as Spring Hill. Before the house was built it was a very early post office: a box nailed to an oak tree that was serviced by a horseback rider who crossed the Rock River at the Dixon ferry every two or three weeks. He would leave the letters he was carrying and pick up any to be mailed. It cost the patrons 25 cents each to get their letters. May times mail would lay in the box several months because 25 cents was beyond the means of the recipients. No one ever took a letter without paying for it. This honesty was their respect for their Federal Government and an obligation of their conscience that had to be met.

The settlement in Section 6 Genesee Township and Section 1 Clyde Township was known as Woods or Elmwood. The only verification is that the school was known as Elm School.

The settlement of New Clyde had a section of Genesee city in its southern boundary, so some people who had bought lots in the fabulous Genesee City did eventually build cabins on their lots.

The report that White Pigeon officially had a post office on December 1876 should be implementedby the fact that Edin McFadden, the owner of the blacksmith shop, was also the Postmaster.

I can remember the west side of Murray’s store, back of the potbellied heating stove, contained many pigeon holes for holding patrons mail.

Franklin Corners, White Pigeon, and New Clyde Census

The census starts with the name of the family that is living at the place today, then goes back to the older settlers and progresses to today’s residents. Many names have slipped my memory, but here goes.

Milford Habben—the old stone quarry where most of our rock foundations have come from. J.S. Reed (Reap?), William Geesey, Henry Armstrong, John Bush, Alice Bush, Louis Bush.

Trail Road Stone House Stop—just north of Milford Habben’s crib, across the road where there is still a stone foundation with a spring running through the basement. There were three fords nearby across Rock Creek. M. Hannah and Jake Garwick have owned it.

Dennis Schave—Jacob Garwick, Jake George, Martin A. Hanna, Unknown Aude, Unknown Hubbard, Forrest E. Schave.

Places along the closed road from the count line to the Dwight Johnson farm where Gilbert Damhoff lives today. At one time, there were three residences on this road. I can remember an old pump and several building sites as I drove the team making hay for Fred Nelson. On the west side was a 50-acares plot belonging to E. Halfinian.. On the east side Philip Greenwalt had a 10-acres plot and above it Jake George had a 10-acre place.

Gilbert Damhoff—Joe George, J.D. George, Gus George, Venita Hammer (George), Fred Nelson, Clarence Irion, Paul Larson, Unknown Swanson, Dwight Johnson.

Unknown Williamson—John George, A. Auguswyski, Jake George, Charles Nelson, Albert Parkinson, Ernest Stralow, Harold Stralow, Alvin Stralow, Harold Hines, Howard Hansen, Otto Buikema, charles S. Schultz, Ronald W. Schultz, Ray Bustos, Sr., Ray Bustos, Jr., Hazel Schultz.

Margaret Broderick—Howard Hawkins, S.T. Broderick, Frank Broderick.

Charles Hayen—George W. Howe, C.R. Hines, Ray Hines, Harold Hines, Bernard Hayen, Charles Deul, William Curran.

Lamont Farthing—Fred Garwick, J.D. Law, John Olson, Ben Nelson, Sam Cobb, Marshall Farthing, Lawrence W. Farthing, James Baker, David Wagenecht.

South side of road from Farthing—no buildings today, F. Marshall, Fred Garwick on an 80-acre farm.

South side of road from the Franklin School and cemetery in a catalpa grove—N. Nolte, Harrison Garwick on an 80-acre farm.

Richard Lopez—Mrs. Karl Zook, Rosa Zook, Katie Bollinger, Alma Bollinger, Myrtle Zook.

Across the road north of the Lopez house—S. Franklin, C. Franklin.

Tegler’s Garage—It was a long horse shed with stalls to drive teams of horses into from the east and next to the Brethren In Christ Church. Next to it was the white church with a single gable and fairly high cement steps on the north side and with steps going up from the east and west sides.

Harvey Tegler—Parsonage for the Brethren In Christ Church, Rev. Marion L. Book, Roger Beyer.

Northwest corner of Franklin Corners—no buildings today, George Hiller, W.B. Tilton, R.Z. Tilton, Pierce Tilton, Charles McNitt, Unknown Fischer, Ike Nutt, Carl Shuman, S. Whitmer, Roy Hockman, Cora Farewell, Stanley Heller, Harry Appel, LeRoy Appel.

Mission farm—J.R. Zook, Abe Zook, B. and A. Zook, Anna Zook, David Stultz, William E. McCullough, Jacob Engelkins, Ray Engelkins, Clarence Gramm, Ivan Gramm.

North Appel farm—W.B. Tilton, R.Z. Tilton, Pierce Tilton, Unknown Lego, Arthur Knox, Unknown Shuman, Dick Beswick, Richard Buikems, Henry Appel, Everett Appel.

Mrs. Dewey Gowan—A.G. Zook, Mt. Carmel Home, Harvey Hoak, Will Smith, Unknown Franklin, Rev. Cober, Rev. Book, Aaron Tyson, Dewey Gowan.

Roy Lee Book—Harrison Garwick, A.G. Zook, Rosa Zook, Samuel Stump, Almeda Stump, Allen Longanecker, Albert Olson, Herman Aude, Unknown Goodell, Rev. Cober, Rev, Book, Floyd Longanecker.

Virgil Gerdes, owned by Roy Lee Book—Ephriam Bechtel, David Gerdes, Ella Gerdes, E. Wayne Gerdes, Roy Lee Book.

Larry Fredericks—W.B. Tilton, Samuel Senneff, Fred W. Senneff, Unknown Nordt, Max Doss, Woody Ashby, Robert Parkinson, Donald Beswick, Michael Ottens.

Gerald Anderson—John A. Garwick, Reuben Garwick, William Hansen, Larry Fogel, Louis Bush.

Across from Anderson place—no buildings today, L. Gaffey, John Peterson, Oscar Peterson, Goldie Peterson, Edith Daniels.

Donald Burkholder—Fred J. Hines, J. Meyers, Mart Howe, (Clarence Howe), Bert A. Nelson, Delbert Nelson, Ray Isenh Art. The old homestead was about 20 rods south and 20 rods east of the present house.

William Schultz—Herman DeVries, Unknown Shaeffer, Harold Armstrong, Walter Armstrong, Kenneth Jensen.

Back forty of the Wilhelm place—Ebenezer Ackerman. Plowed up the foundation of the 16-foot by 20-foot house. The house was about 30 rods north and 20 rods west of the present day entrance to the lane of the Jesse Habben place.

There used to be a cabin across the road from the Wilhelm Schultz farm about 15 rods north and 20 rods west at the foot of the short, but steep, hill. It was before the time of Martha Traum. Charles Schultz has spoken of this bachelor.

Elmer Landis—Harry Traum, Martha Traum, Walter Hoffman.

Jesse Habben—Wesley Robinson, W.R. McGinnis, Samuel Wressel, Aeve Habben, Amos Burkholder, Donald Burkholder, Lloyd Workman, Unknown Schipper, Herbert Habben, Evelyn Habben.

Tim Pritchard—R.M. Kennedy, William Rhode, Charles Sprecker, Joshua Stump, Gilbert Cadwell, Gus Mundt, Carl Walters, Harold Walters, Phil Walters, Unknown Hook.

Norman Spencer—Patrick Ryan, John J. Fredericks, Joker Modler, Unknown Danklau, Jim Fellows, Ben Fredericks, Guyke Wuebben, Horace Rahn, Charles Maxey, Harold Walters, Fred and Tena Stuart, Paul Hendrick.

40 acres south of Norman Spencer—Patrick Ryan.

80 acres on the west side of the road from Larry Sumption—Henry Conrady, Annetta Conrady, Reuben Conrady, Wayne Conrady.

Larry Sumption—Henry Conrday, J.B. Fredericks, Garret Fredericks, Unknown Walters, Reuben Conrady, Annetta Conrady, Wayne Conrady.

L. Genz—J.H. Brothwell, Dorothea Barthel, H.T. Janssen, Bill Baker, Gus Walters, Ernie Walters, Bill Fredericks, Reinhard Habben, James Hanarahn, Dale Kaufman, Unknown Russel, Woodrow Larkey, Mrs. John Larkey, Unknown Anderson, Unknown Readel.

Fred Stinemeyer mill—on the L. Genz place ownd by Mrs. John Larkey. Andrew Wing, H.H. Fowler, Levi Marble, Joseph Brothwell, Hiram Brothwell, J.M. Stinemeyer.

New Clyde—opened its post office in 1844; the following is the list of patrons served by this post office at one time or another. J.H. Brothwell, John Freas, Joseph N. Cohenor, J.M Stinemeyer, Wesley Robinson, John S. Peck, Edward Lindsey, Joseph Reed, John Swisher, Bener Kritzenswiske, Philipp Greenwalt, John Kilday, Eli Wick, Frederick Stinemeyer, H. Traum, Thomas Lynch, Mary Lynch, D.W. Conway, S.H. Horning, Ellen Lynch, Gottlieb Rhode, Harmon Bartel, Dr. W.P. Fraser (1848), J.W. Hunter, G. Hanna, W. Conway, H.W. Neuman, J. Flynn, Hanna Savage.

East of the Sumption place and 55 rods north is what is believed is the original place Zachariah Dent bought from Samuel Wressel in 1837. The plank-lined, dug well rotted with age.

John Sumption, Sr.—H.R. Hewman, H.T. Lynch, Hannah J______, L.E. Horn, Fred Stinemeyer, Louis Stinemeyer, Vernon Gilman, Walter Menenga.

White Pigeon area, 1850—I. Glanden, W. Robinson, L. Gaffee, H. Conrady, W.A. Ray, Michael Reap, J.W. Burns, Unknown Maililegue(?), A. Dodd, Unknown St. John, A.N. Stoerlyer, Dr. W.P. Fransen, Unknown Kennedy, Z. Dent, M. Kilday, D.E. Brown, E. West, J.F. Fieldsend, George A. Platt, Jake Garwick (1851), Fred Garwick (1855), George W. Howe (1854), James Doyle (1848), Isaac Fletcher (1850), C.W. Baker (1848).

In 1857, Edwin McFadden was postmaster of White Pigeon. He was also a blacksmith.

White Pigeon residents, 1870–1880—George W. Platt, Michael Reap, E.W. West, Henry Folkers, J. Deitz, John Garwick, J.F. Tilton, Fred Stinemeyer, L. Longanecker, J.B. Fredericks, Phillipp Greenawalt, Zachariah Dent, Willima Tilton, Henry Conrady, Thomas Gaffee, Thomas Mitchell.

Delbert Weets—Henry Folkers, J.B. Fredericks, (store), Jacob Greenawalt, Sam Witmer, Carl Walters, Unknown Lyons, Charles Hackbarth.

Gene Stone—J.B. Fredericks, Zachariah Dent, Fred Stinemeyer, Gus Walters, (blacksmith shop and saw mill), Wayne Conrady.

Southwest corner of T intersection of Pigeon Road and Spring Valley Road—Edwin McFadden had a post office and blacksmith shop in the late 1880s and early 1900s with a large machine shed.

White Pigeon’s new store was built about 1902 by the Greenawalt’s, who sold to J.B. Fredericks the old house/store at the Delbert Weet place. For a while there were two stores. Some of the store shelves are still incorporated in the wall of the southeast front room. In 1908 Walter and Jennie Pierce moved back from Kansas and bought the new store from the Greenawalts. The post office ceased in White Pigeon in the late Fall of 1902 when Rural Free Delivery was started; but, whenever the roads were impassible or the weather was inclement it still was used as a part-time post office until the 1920s. Jennie Pierce died in 1920 and Walter and their children, Elsey and Vera, with the help of Marie Mundt, who they raise, ran the store into the late 1920s. Mrs. Mundt, wife of Gus Mundt, died in 1913 when Gus lived on what is now the Carl Walters farm. Mrs. Pierce, who was the nurse of the community doctored Mrs. Mundt and took Marie home wit her when Mrs. Mundt died. Marie was only a few days old. A few of the later storeowners were Frank Herrick, Hershel Gramm, and Vernon Gilman, When the Heffelfingers bought it, they tore down the store part of the building and built a new foundation, but never completed it. The house was torn down a few years ago and only a machine shed remains.

Woodmen Hall—built a few rods south of the store and was a very useful place for the public in the late 1800s and early third of the 1900s. Then it was torn down for lack of use and card during the Depression years.

Greenwood School—built in the 1850s and rebuilt in the early 1920s by a couple of carpenters from Chadwick under the supervision of Carl Olsen. Dwight Varner now lives there and has a dog kennel under the oak trees.

Stuzke farm—D.W. and J.W. Martin, Frank McMillen, S.H. Horning, W.P. Fraser, Thomas Mitchell, Ferdinand Stuzke, Minnie Stuzke, Edward Wells, Anna Beswick Wells, Harvey Stuart, Millard Wells. 120 acres due east of the Greenwood School to Rock Creek. Owned by the Wells family. In the early years it was the southern portion of New Clyde with many small lots. Ephriam Bechtel built a dam and race here for a water-powered saw mill on Rock Creek. They sawed a considerable amount of walnut lumber. Quite a few of the older houses of the community have walnut woodwork. In those days woodworking was an art.

Jeff Hansen (Gail Rogers)—James Doyle, John McCormick, Aeve Habben, Michelle Pery, Preston Kaufman, Herschel Thompson, Clarence and Rosa Potts. _______ Eaglin, ______ Brown, Stanley Heller, Gene Housenga, ______ Stanley.

David Shettler—James Doyle, John McCormick, Charles Dublo, Jo Dublo.

Harvey Stuart—John Wells, Edward Wells, Anna Wells, Millard Wells.

Daisy Thielen—C.J. Howe, Martha Traum, Ella Traum, Ed Thielen.

Merle Linton—Michael Reap, C.J. Howe, James Burns, George Platt, Karl Kuebler, Fred Kuebler, John Duchay.

Ernest Walters—J.R. Zook, H.H. Longanecker, S. Longanecker, Walter Pierce, Guy Van Dyke, Reuben Conrady, Allen Longanecker, Henry Conrady.

Lyman Rumfelt—Leonard Gaffee, Thomas Gaffey, Larry Gaffey, Bill Gaffey, William McCoullough, J. Gaffee, E. Mills, Stanley Glassburn, David Hadley, Stabler and Robinson.

Ronald Price—J.R. Zook, Harm Fredericks, Lizzie Fredericks, David Hadley.

John Gibbs—John A. Garwick, Clarence Fredericks.

Glenn Gibbs—Benjamin W. West.

Gail Rogers—Zachariah Dent, Harm Fredericks, Lizze Fredericks, Clifford Waters, Norman Marshall, ______ Bosum.

Kenneth E. Jones—William Wells, George Platt, Carl Olson, Oliver Olson, J.J. Smaltz, Robert McBride, Melvin Unger, Norman Spencer.

Howard Gsell—John Peoples, Russell Detra, Howard Kraft, Clifford Gsell, Edna Gsell.

Adam Yoekel—Samuel Longanecker, John Peterson, Oscar Peterson, Goldie Peterson, _______ Barsema, Edith Daniels.

_________ Snyder—George W. Davis, Sam Davis, John Davis, Lee Davis, Ronald Schultz, Don Bush, Kathryn Bush.

Lavonne Wright—LeRoy Wright, Leon Bender.

Allen Geerts—Reuben Conrady, Annetta Conrady.

Across the road from Allen Geerts—August Radatz, John Fieldsend, Arlie Love, G. Kennedy, D.W. Landis, Robert Hamilton, Herbert Bull.

Raymond Temple—John Fieldsend, George Radatz, Henry Conrady, Carl Conrady, William Foster.

Gene Justice—John Fletchic, Frank Fletchic, C.H. Kennedy, Martin brothers, D.W. Landis, William Workman, Clark McDearmon, John Conrady, Raymond Temple.

Gene Housenga—Alfred Puddifoot, Vincent Fletchic, George W. Davis, Henry Garwick, Richard Johnson, Jim Pell.

1870 Census
Seth Burkholder, 50; wife Magdeline, 46; children: Ellen, 22; Susanna, 18; Seth, 16, Magdeline, 12; Fannie, 9; Amos, 4.

1880 Residents (Census)
§Fred Garwick, 35; wife Maggie, 29; children: Charles L., 11; Mary Ann, 5; Lena, 1; others: Sarah Sucher, 18; Anna Langdon, 19.
§Jesse Bryson, 27; wife Annie, 20; others: Fred Reed, 20.
§Adam Auguscyuski, 36; wife Catherine, 45; children: Frankie, 9; Victoria, 7; Mary, 1.
§James S. Reed, 59; wife Catherine, 67.
§Jacob Garwick, 45; wife Sarah, 39; children: George, 16; Annie, 13; Sarah, 9; Lizzie, 6; Dora, 3; Katie, 10 months; others: John Flynn, 23.
§John Zewisky, 55; wife Annie, 51; children: Joseph, 20; Sylvester, 18; Mary, 14; Fred, 12; Praxy, 9.
§Gotlief Rhode, 60; wife Wilhelmina, 60.
§John Kilday, 60; children: Maggie, 20; Ambrose, 19; John, 17; Thomas, 16; Ella, 14; Kate, 11; Mary, 9; Hilda Ann, 7; Josephine, 3; Rose, 1.
§Mary Lynch, 64; children: Thomas Lynch, 28; Ellen, 21; others: John Joyce, 16.
§Harmon Barthel, 60; wife Dorotha, 50; children: Julius, 16; Harmon, 13; Alvin, 11; others: Catharine Bluck, 19.
§Fred Stinemeyer, 50; wife Caroline S., 40; children: Henry, 18; Mattie, 16; Effie, 14; Lena, 12; Anson, 9; Louis, 7; Fannie, 5; Lora, 11 months.
§Henry Conrady, 70; wife Christina, 48; children: William, 25; Lizzie, 22; Dora, 17; Henry, 15; Katie, 11; Francis, 8.
§John Ryan, 56; wife Mary, 56; children: Patrick, 22; Katie, 16.
§Wesley Robinson, 60; wife Maria, 61; others: Luther Sayres, 15.
§Frank C. Robinson, 24; wife Millie E., 19; others: Mary Garnet, 23.
§Frederick Hines, 30; wife Rosetta, 27; children: George E., 5; Delbert M., 3; Charles R., 1 month.
§Ephriam Bechtel, 47; wife Sarah, 38; children: John, 18; Ella, 13; Lena, 3; others: Walter Zewisky, 23.
§Henry Garwick, 42; wife Anna, 36; children: Henry H., 17; John, 16; Joseph, 12; Noah, 10; Amanda, 5; Melissa, 2.
§Jane Davis, 65; children: Mary L., 28; George W., 23.
§Frederick Nutt, 39; children: Isaac, 11; Zyden, 9.
§Larry Gaffee/Gaffey, 45; wife Sarah A., 38; children: Mary, 18; Katie, 16; Willie, 14; John, 13; Lawrence, 10; Lizzie, 8; Eddie, 3.
§Michael Reap, 43; wife Agnes, 33; children: Margaret, 13; Katie, 9; William, 8; Arthur, 6; Frank, 3; Alice, 1.
§Thomas Wells, 52; wife Ellen, 38; children: Lottie J. Barrett (step-daughter), 17; others: Hattie Pratt, 19.
§James Doyle, 57; wife Sarah, 50; children: James, 18; John, 17; William, 16; Mary Ann, 15; Katie, 14; Francis, 11; Sarah, 8; Maggie, 6; Edward A., 4; Annie J., 3; others: Mary Maguire (niece), 22.
§John Wells, 42; wife Catharine, 47; children: Charles, 19; Lenwood, 18; Irene, 16; Agnes, 14; George, 12; Frederick, 9; Ulysses, 7; Frank, 5; Edward, 3.
§Willard Murray, 24; wife Rebecca, 26; others: George Detra (brother-in-law), 18.
§William Detra, 54; wife Margaret, 50; children: Mary, 23; John, 22; William, 20; George, 18; Ira, 17; Charles, 14; Mallon, 12; Mark, 7; others: John Frye (father-in-law), 79.
Samuel Longanecker, 32; wife Mariah, 31; children: Jacob, 9; Henry, 7; twin William, 5; twin Samuel, 5; Mariah, 2.
Jacob Longanecker, 65; wife Lydia, 60; children: Joseph 22; Henry, 19.

1900 Residents That Might Be Of Interest
William Gaffey, 34; wife Elizabeth, 33; children: Ceclia, 10; Frances, 6; Helen, 4.
Jesse Bryson, 47; wife Emma, 40.
Will Schultz, 43; wife Amelia, 37; children: Liz, 15; Charles, 14; Maggie, 8.
John Fredericks, 64; wife Marguretta, 57; children: Garret, 23; Aemie, 16 (Anna).
Edwin Greenwalt, 34; wife Lily, 34; children: Henry G., 6; Lura, 3; Helen D., 2 months.
David Gerdes, 35; wife Ella B., 33; children: Ephriam L., 11; Rebecca H., 10; Edmund W. 7; Galen G., 6; Henry R., 8 months.
William G. Pierce, wife Eliza, 28; children: Fay, 9; Nina, 8 (married Harry Traum); Esther B., 8; Ida E., 3; Edith, 3 months.
John Garwick, 36; wife Susan C., 37; children: Anna B., 10; Reuben A., 2.
Michael Reap, 65; wife Agnes M., 51; children: Frank, 23; Bertha A., 17.
Ferdinand Stuzke, 33; wife Annie, 27; children: Olga, 8; Gertrude, 7; Emma, 5; H_____, 3; Max, 2.
Jennie Wilson Smith, 28 (later married Walter Pierce); children: Charles, 9; Vernie, 7; Harry 5.
Henry Stinemier, 35; wife Maggie J., 30.
Ed Morris, 30; wife Elizabeth, 28; children: John F., 3 months.
William E. McCullough, 33; wife Maria, 23; children: Arnie M., 3; William, 1; Rhoda M., 1 month.
Daniel Ackerman, 68; wife Catherine, 58; children: Garret L., 20.
Elam Burkholder, 52; wife Ann, 48; children: Amos, 16; Cora, 13.
David Gsell, 49; wife Maggie M., 43; children: Clifford L., 19; Maude M., 16; Stella J., 6.

1910 Residents (Census)
Harry Frederick, 41; wife Leda Eliza, 37; children: John, 14; Mabel, 10; Emma, 6; Hearin, 3; Lizzie, 2.
John Peoples, 55 (Ireland); children: Sarah, 15; Lulu, 13; Abbie, 8; Pearly, 4.
John Gaffey, 41; wife Mary, 30.
Samuel Longanecker, 63; wife Mary, 62; children: William 38; Allen, 21.
Gustave Walters, 30; wife Anna, 26; children: Carl, 8; Viola, 5; Ernest, 2 months.
Ben Frederick, 73; wife Margaret, 67.
Clarence Howe, 34; wife Emma, 31; children: George, 10; Martin, 8; Harry, 6.
Walter Pierce, 44; wife Jennie, 38; children: Elsey, 5; Vera, 2.
Aeve Habben, 36; wife Hulda, 31; children: Julius, 9; Alfred, 7; Margaret, 5; Edna, 3; Laura, 2; Cynthia, 2 months.
Louis Stinemeyer, 37; wife Annie, 29; children: twin Homer, 11; twin Henry, 11; Pearl, 10; Gladys, 8; Hazel, 6; Bessie, 4.
Will Schultz, 54; wife Amelia, 48; children: Maggie, 18.
William Rhode, 44; wife Eliza, 38; children: Frederick, 18; Dora, 16; Lizzie, 14; Willie, 10; Ida, 7; Floyd, 5.
John Frederick, 42; wife Matilda, 40; children: Edith, 15; Hannah, 13; Bertha, 8; John Jr., 6; Marie, 4.
John Olson, 40; wife Hilda, 34; children: Edna, 11; Ivy, 6.
Fred Nelson, 31; later: wife Jennie.
Sarah Garwick, 67.
Henry Armstrong, 42; wife Katie, 43; children: John, 19; Gertie, 17; Dora, 14; Maude, 12; Hazel, 3.
Ray Hinse, 28; wife Luella, 27; children: Mabel, 7; Ray Jr., 3; Mildred, 1.
Mrs. Bryson, 50; children: Myrtle, 20; Jessie, 18; Winthrop, 16; Hazel, 14; Florie, 11.
Ceclia Gaffey, 74.
Herman Barthel, 43; wife Carrie Belle, 27; children: Etta, 6; Ann, 5; Oscar, 1.
John Mundt, 41; wife Marie, 40; children: Annie, 15; William, 12; Art, 10, Priscilla, 9; Albert, 8; John, 5; Rosa, 3; Bertha, 1, Marie (born 1913).
Charles Schultz, 24; wife Alice 38 (?); children: Cecil D., 6 months; later: Ronald W.
John Garwick, 46; wife Susie, 47; children: Annie, 20; Reuben, 12.
Abner Howe, 41; wife Clara, 38; children: Lura, 15; Lulu, 12; Bessie, 9; Hattie, 6; Elnore, 5; Clarence, 1.
Vincent Fletchic, 74; wife Annie, 69; children: Arnie, 42; John, 36; Katie, 15.
August Radatz, 73; wife Agusta, 47; children: Henry, 19; John, 17; Minnie, 15; Martha, 13; Herman, 8.
Minnie Stuzke, 74.
George W. Davis, 55; wife Maggie, 49; children: John M., 24; Lee E., 22.
Ephriam Bechtel, 74; wife Sarah, 68.
Pierce Tilton, 22; wife Nellie, 19.
David Gerdes, 45; wife Ella, 43; children: Rebecca, 20; Wayne, 17; Ralph, 10; Lloyd, 6; Virgil, 4.
Garret Fredericks, 32; wife Emma, 30; children: Annetta, 8; Evelyn, 6; George 4.
Bill Fredericks, 26.
Amos H. Shultz, 49; wife Mary, 42; children: Foster, 20; Ernest, 16.
George Appel, 52; wife Mary, 52; children: Annie, 24; John 20; Emma, 17; Eddy, 14; Otto, 9; Henry, 7.
Charles Detra, 44; wife Nettie, 36; children: Ralph, 9; Russell, 3.
Israel Potts, 68; wife Mary A., 48; children: Clarence, 18; Delia, 12.
Willard Murray, 54; wife Rebecca, 55.
Edward Wells, 28.
Henry Davis, 68; wife Cora, 38; children: Isabel, 18; Darlene, 9 months.
Ulysses Wells, 37.
Carl Olson, 32; wife Elizabeth, 28; children: Oliver B., 6; Annie E., 4; Ada C., 2; later: Bernice; Carl Jr.
Edward Olson, 38; wife Elsie, 40; children: Albert, 13; Esther, 11; Edward, 8; Emil, 4; Joseph, 4 months.
Henry Conrady, 26; wife Maggie, 24; children: Hulda, 2; Wilbur, 9 months (Wayne).
David Stultz, 34; wife Ida, 39; children: Sylvia, 5; others: Glenn Ranger raised by them, as well as her relative, Ed Hankey, 23.
Frank Fletchic, 31; wife Mae, 24; children: Frances I., 2.
S.M. Witmer, 24; wife Edith E., 24.
Mt. Carmel Home 1910
Abram Zook, 55
Kate Bollinger, 36
Mae Donaldson, 35 (former Franklin School teacher)
Margaret Christy, 17 Mary LeQuesne, 16 Stanley Flynn, 16
John Pocock, 15 Avas Bollinger, 15 Clyde Bigbee, 15
Ruth LeQuesne, 14 Elizabeth Riley, 14 Bessie Mosser, 12
Reuben Bigbee, 12 Henen Huston, 12 Alma Bollinger, 12
Aaron Cummings, 12 Edmond Goldring, 12 Ambrose Flynn, 12
Dorothy Huston, 11 Lydia Riley, 11 Katie Aiken, 11
Ethel Mosser, 10 Madeline Flynn, 9 Levi Cummings, 9
Annie Aiken, 9 Florence Huston, 8 Maurice Flynn, 7
Marion Flynn, 7 William Huston, 6 Sarah Rogers, 6
Joseph Aiken, 4

White Pigeon Poem of the 1880s—Sweet, Small, and Rare

Finish

What is progress? It makes that which is old, give way and then crumble and fall never to rise again. Even the old kitchen table where you invited folks in to drink a cut of friendship has yielded to the dens and recreation rooms.
If you please, forgive me, as I say once more: THIRTY.

Appendix A

The Patriots’ War

The Patriots’ War was mainly a Canadian issue, but the United States, especially Niagara County, New York, was heavily involved in the brief and abortive conflict. It started in November of 1837 with a largely ethnic uprising of French-speaking Canadians against British rule of Lower Canada (now Quebec). This uprising drew British forces and Canadian militia northward. In Upper Canada (now Ontario), a liberal Reform Party leader, William Lyon MacKenzie, a Scottish immigrant who started a newspaper in Ontario, saw an opportunity. His editorial stance had evolved into strong criticism of government practices. A long-time advocate of increased self-rule, MacKenzie had become frustrated with the unresponsiveness of British authorities and called upon Canadians to join him in a march on Toronto to seize arms stored in the city hall. As several hundred patriots advanced southward down Yonge Street, Toronto lay virtually undefended. However, on the outskirts of the city, a small detachment of loyalists fired upon them. The front rank of patriots dropped to the ground at the sound of the gunshots and the second rank, thinking those in front had all been killed by the volley, broke and ran. The patriots were unable to regain momentum and were dispersed by loyalist reinforcements four days later. Yet MacKenzie managed to escape, resurfacing across the border in Buffalo, New York.

There he found a sympathetic audience of Americans still resentful of the 1813 burning of Buffalo during the War of 1812 and holding little love for their British neighbors. To many Americans, the Canadian uprising represented a belated continuation of their own revolution. While other reformist Canadians rallied around MacKenzie, he also received substantial aid from like-minded Americans who provided money, provisions, and arms. Increasing numbers of Americans volunteered to fight as well, and it is probable that they eventually came to represent a majority of his patriot “army.” The American freedom fighters were mostly civilian recruits and family men: farmers, carpenters, clerks, ploughmen, and merchants. Further infuriating British authorities was the reluctance of local authorities in New York State to curb MacKenzie’s public efforts to raise his army. He issued a proclamation promising recruits 300 acres “of the most valuable land in Canada” and “$100 in silver payable on or before the 1st of May next.” In fact, many of the legal authorities were themselves sympathizers and many of the arms provided to MacKenzie, including several cannon, probably came illegally from New York State arsenals.

Emboldened by this support, MacKenzie took over Canada’s Navy Island in the Niagara River on December 13, 1837, then occupied by only one family. The virtually uninhabited island held little strategic value, but retained a ready supply line to New York, while nevertheless placing him in possession of Canadian soil and enabling him to declare an independent provisional government. To British authorities, the internal protests had been half-hearted and swiftly quelled, but the occupation of Navy Island represented an unprovoked and illegal invasion by foreign nationals. Canadian loyalist Colonel Sir Allan MacNab took an astonishing step. Knowing that the American steamer Caroline was being used to supply Navy Island, he ordered Commander Andrew Drew of the Canadian Army, who led seven boats with 45 men on the commando raid, to cross the river on the night of December 19th and seize her. Finding the Caroline docked at Schlosser, NewYork, they seized her, towed her into the current, set her afire, and cast her adrift. While reports claimed dozens of American deaths, the sole confirmed death was American Amos Durfee.

This violation of American territory sparked a rapid response by the American government, which dispatched General Winfield Scott to assume command of U.S. regulars and state militia on the border. Beefed-up garrisons of U.S. regulars offered security from further British incursions, and on one occasion they warded off a British schooner from American waters off Black Rock. However, they also enforced American neutrality by cutting off illegal aid to Canadian patriots.

On January 14, 1838, the disheartened patriots abandoned Navy Island. The British captured 92 members of the army; mostly American citizens. Canadians were charged with treason and Americans with waging an illegal war. Only American James Morreau went to the gallows. Military courts immediately, and illegally, banished them in 1839 to Britain’s remote new island colony of Van Diemen’s Land, now the State of Tasmania.

They were virtual slaves at penal posts on the island for up to 10 years, and 14 Patriots died as convicts. Some escaped on American whalers. When finally pardoned, the Americans were let loose to find their own way home. Most of the Patriots returned to their families in North America. A few never did. They married free settler and convict women and remained in Australia.

The Patriot convicts sent to Tasmania were the first Americans imprisoned overseas and the first political prisoners.

Appendix B

Please Don’t Quote Me

This article can be called a story about a little settlement called Fiji. Haven’t heard of it” Me neither. It was a “pre-Coleta.”

None of the three major Whiteside County histories acknowledge Fiji, only Genesee Grove and describe what people there did, steps forward, etc. in that general neighborhood but never say, “Fiji.” As far as the casual reader is concerned or the reader not acquainted with the area in Genesee Grove is still a shadowy affair… no one place, just and indefinite area.

This was once said about it, “… Genesee Township is divided into prairie and timber and a grove in the northwest part, about six miles long and three miles broad, is called Genesee Grove, the rest is prairie.” At the early time people lived in or at a grove.

The pioneer seeking a claim needed timber for building and for fuel for cooking and heating plus living in the timber, the severe winds and the heat of summer were shelter and protection. Water in or near a grove was a common arrangement, too, either by springs or streams running through them such as in Genesee the Rock Creek had several branches, Otter Creek one, and Little Spring Creek an endorsements, too, and at one time called “Fiji Creek!”

Few today, or as many as none(!) know the name Fiji—the weekday kaffee klatsch at the Coleta Methodist Church, visits or phone calls with several long time residents had no recall of the name, nor did appeal to four to five local libraries. Fiji was as far as anyone knew, in the South Seas, supplier of plantains, bananas and one upon a time, sandlewood. It surely was not in Whiteside County.

This mystery-to-solve came up during a recent stop at the Sterling-Rock Falls Historical Society where its director, Terry Buckaloo, handled over collection of typed papers, saying, "PDQ Me will want this.” He was certainly correct but since then a Fiji-fixation has gripped yours truly. Miles have accumulated searching for Fiji whose name did exist but whose origin of title is still unsolved.

The reminiscence was compiled by the late Fay Landis, dated 1992. The Landis family were pioneers of Fiji, Samuel Landis being mentioned as plowing a trail to Fiji in 1836 with oxen using a small tree to cut a furrow. It was the year of his arrival. Isn’t it grand to have a “new” name to add to others, even those which passed to the now unknown! There’s plenty of the more easily explored here in the Northwest which are challenges but a mystery now and then adds to the objective of piecing together the scattered material which is our history.

Besides Mr. Landis’ reminiscences there is definite physical, tangible evidence that Fiji existed…it is set in stone.

The front of the Landis papers stated… “Figi (a g, not a j), White Pigeon, New Clyde and Suburbs …Dent’s Grove, Franklin Corners, Malvern and Coleta,” etc. which covers much of the north and east boundary of Whiteside County, particularly Genesee and Clyde Townships. It is a territory rich in lore, some of which Mr. Landis quaintly touches on.

By piecing stories and sites together, Fiji emerges. It was about two miles west of present day Coleta. It has been sadly neglected in name. Genesee Grove became more well-known but hardly pinpointed, but a community with solid steps from wilderness to civilization were firmly made.

Jesse Hill and family were early settlers in the township, 1835, having walked fifteen hundred miles from North Carolina to make a claim large enough for ten children. Still without animal conveyance or pulling power that first winter, the boys grubbed and felled trees to split for fence rails. The girls carried them on their shoulders to where they’d be used. It was an era of land rich, cash poor.

A visitor to the Hill cabin said they wore coarse home woven and sewn clothes, were barefoot except for buckskin moccasins now and then instead of shoes or boots. No tables or chairs, so at mealtime they sat tailor-fashion on the puncheon floor with a frugal meal of baked potatoes with skins on rolled onto the rough logs and ate what there was.

That same year the Adam and John James’ families came to the huge grove, too, unbeknownst to the Hills until an Indian came to tell them that a “smoky woman” lived on the other side of the grove—a white woman. On meeting, the two clans argued about ownership but finally agreed to divide the grove half and half. Yes, six thousand acres certainly would support them all.

The Grove, however, being so large with its wealth of trees and springs, lured many other squatters so that trouble ensued. Eventually a “Claim Association” was organized with appropriate punishments dispatched… warnings, destruction of property and whippings.

Such was, doubtless, a common practice, so that in the state legislature, 1837-38 session, an act was passed limiting claims to 160 acres of timber and 320 acres of prairie. It did not become totally effective until government land sales took place. The land office moved to Dixon from Galena in 1840.

One reference states that many of the first settlers came from the South or Southeast to avoid the growing issues concerning slavery. An influx of New Yorkers arrived, too, which was the source of the name “Genesee” for the Back East site of the same name.

Genesee is a variation of Geneseo, an Indian word of Seneca dialect from the Iroquoisan language meaning “beautiful valley,” indeed appropriate in Whiteside County.

The root of Genesee thus names a valley, not river — Gen-nis′-he-yo.

The county histories say that Ed Richardson was the first postmaster, 1839. He and his wife lived with ‘Uncle’ Watty Doud who lived at Fiji Co., doubtless, the post office would have been there. Rural stations did not need to be large.

However, in postal/town name records for Genesee Grove, Whiteside Post Office is listed as having been established in June, 1844. So??? The Geneseo, Illinois, Henry County Post Office had official status in August of 1840. There also was a Genesee Grove in Henry County. (Geneseo being derived from Genesee), settlers there coming from the Empire State also, colonizing in Henry County in 1836.

Meanwhile, in Whiteside County’s Clyde Township, next west of Genesee, a “Genesee City’ was being laid out by Andrew Wing and variously known in postal lingo, too, as New Clyde and Brothwell’s Mill, originally a sawmill then grist. None of those persisted although it is clear that the New York character of settlers was thriving AND the Scot/English, Clyde Township was named for the Scottish river.

Mr. Wing and Dr. H.H. Fowler were both into the popular craze of the day… “city planning” or speculation. Just at that time Fulton, their residence, was in the platting stage which was being complicated by the numbers of “proprietors” but it all inspired Wing and Fowler to plat also. (Wing and Fowler, a great compatible duo of names for a public relations agent, eh?).

They had Genesee City laid out in 1838… “great in its immensity.’ And, apparently so good with promotion were they that lots of lots(!) were sold to Back Easterners, some of whom braved the Wilds of the Midwest to view Genesee City never got off the drawing board

Meanwhile, other settlers were slowly but steadily coming into Genesee Township and enlarging Fiji, still clinging to the timbers in which to build and as habit beseeched. And the neighborhood was rich in individualism.

Gathering together for convenience, sociability and safety Fiji grew. Indians had not all left the area but were peaceful. However the banditti, the Prairie Pirates weren’t.

Fiji was forming up; many on the south side Pilgrim Road, the north east quarter of section 18 and north west of section 172 where in years after most Fijians had moved two miles east to establish Coleta but several stone basements still could be seen and were long in evidence. That is directly across from the Genesee Grove Central Cemetery and south east which in Landis’ paper is the alternative name for Fiji but whose name origin is still a mystery!

The old plat map of Genesee Township here shows that corner, bottom left, at the intersection of quarters 8, 7, 18, 17 where many small lots are plotted in the sizes common to potential villages. The road on the east side of section 8, angling north east has numbers of small lots, too, which may be wood lots of absentee residents but might be healthy growth in population... that road is no longer in use, replace by Blue Goose Road, north, on the east side of the cemetery. Manton Road, a little east, is the south-going road from the early one. Its route is just part of the reason Genesee, beautiful valley, was named such.

Ron and Nancy Habben, Manton Road residents, live at one of the ever-flowing springs for which the township is noted… near the Coleta trout ponds, spring-fed, too. Their deed records, pre-survey show that where we suppose Fiji to have been, there are many of the dots/squares which indicated buildings-homes, businesses, and were very numerous… numbers above the common homestead. That’s another reason to hope that was Fiji! Thanks for the additional support.

There were businesses located at Fiji, J.T. Crum for one. He’d arrived in 1838, stayed a couple of years then returned to Indiana to marry and assemble a stock of goods with which he opened a general store when he came back to Fiji.

It likely was Crum who as much as anyone was responsible for the demise of Fiji and the initiation of Coleta.

See next week for the ways and means and for the confirmation in stone that Fiji did exist.