In November, 1954 The Minburn Booster was founded by Mrs. Bernard (Evelyn) Brokaw, after Minburn had been without a newspaper for 40 years. She chose as a slogan, "A Small Town with a Big Heart", which was later adopted as the town slogan and put on a sign at each edge of town.

In searching for a unique way of arousing interest in a new paper, Mrs. Brokaw noticed an old stone outside the Minburn Elevator, and assumed it as in a position to "know" a great deal about the history of Minburn. Thus the Mill Stone Column was born, each week telling something the old stone "remembered". Letters started coming from old time Minburn residents, of historic interest.

The editor, who was joined by her husband two years later in publishing the paper, credits the rapid growth of the Booster circulation to this column. They are deeply appreciative of the many contributions sent in by interested readers.

The Mill Stone was adopted as the official emblem of the Minburn Centennial, and was scheduled to be moved to a permanent resting place in the park, by the skating rink, and dedicated during the Centennial.

MILLSTONE STARTS ITS STORY

You know, folks, for years I've been wanting to tell the story of my home town. And now that I have the opportunity, I don't rightly know where to begin. I've heard it said that when in doubt it is always safest to talk about yourself, so I'll tell you a little bit about "just me". I've been around the old town for quite a spell now, and what I haven't seen build up, I've heard the old timers tell about.

I'm not much to look at - in fact, when a man snapped my picture the other day, he wrinkled up his nose and said "Ugh, dead subject!" As I said before, I may not be much to look at, but I bet that young whippersnapper would perk up his ears and listen if he just knew all the secrets about folks that I know! But enough of the worthless gossip!

Until nigh onto 15 years ago I was just a lonely old stone, gettin' mighty bored just standin' by the elevator, against an old post. Folks passin' by didn't give me much heed, and nary a soul to talk to all those years. Then one day a female stopped to look me over and I heard her say, "I'll bet this old mill stone could tell a lot of tales about this town". I pricked up my ears and my stoney heart missed a few beats - at last, here was sumbody that could talk my language!

Well, we talked it over, and she promised to put my pitcher in the paper if I would tell her all I knew 'bout the beginnin' of "Pinhook" - guess most folks call it Minburn now. The town critters must have thought my boss lady was a bit off in the head to set around talkin' to an old stone! But we got right well acquainted, and I wuz sure proud to be in the paper as the Mill Stone column.

I was one of the "big wheels" of the first mill in Minburn, in connection with the grain elevator back in 1883. Matt Crawford was my boss-man, and a finer boss a wheel never had. The grain business was under Crawford management for a good many years, with Matt's nephew, Will, following in his uncle's footsteps in 1914. "Bill", as he was affectionately known to his many friends, managed the business for 33 years and retired at 71. After that, he occupied the head loafer's chair, chinnin' with the "boys" about days past..while his son, Jack, took over as manager. Bill passed on to his reward in 1961. Jack carried on the family tradition, as elevator manager, until his death in 1968.

A FLYING TRIP

The most excitement I ever had was the time I went flying through the air like the man on the flyin' trapeze. You see it was like this. Somebody got the brilliant idea that us wheels could grind corn better if we stood up, instead of laying down. So they rigged us up so we couldn't lay down on the job any longer. Well, it worked pretty good, until the feller who was taking care of us went to sleep. We went faster and faster, until I broke loose and went sailing out through the roof of the building. And do you know where I landed? Away over by where the D-X Station is now! Wish I could do it again.. it was a real thrill.

PROGRESS

There's been a lot of goin's on around here the past few years...buildin' on, going higher up, and adding all sorts of new gadgets to replace good old elbow grease. Good thing that I ain't like some old critters of my generation...thinkin' that things was good enough the way they was and got no use for all this modernizin' stuff. Does my old heart good to see all these new contraptions that makes work easier for men.. like them augers they talk about to get the grain in and out of the elevator. Why, if it wasn't for progress, I'd still be grindin' corn up into meal, 'stead of jest settin' here takin' life easy. Nothing like progress, I always say!

RAILROAD COMES THROUGH -- A TOWN STARTS

Away back in 1869, the Des Moines Valley Railroad laid down some tracks and started running their noisy iron horses through this part of the country. That's the year that Minburn was born!

You know, it's a funny thing how towns get started. When young'ns ask, "How come", the old folks tell 'em about the birds and the bees. But when you're talking about towns, that's a different story..you have to tell 'em about the railroads. You see it's like this: when a railroad makes up it's mind to cut through the country, the surveyors go out and drive a stake ever few miles - maybe 7 or 8 - and say, "A town goes here". Then they start scouting around to see if some farmers want to sell some ground to the railroad. In the case of Minburn, it was J.B. Hill and D.F. Rogers who came across. They wanted to name the town "Norwood", but somehow the advance agent for the railroad, Nat Baker, came along and said "I christen thee "MINBURN". He said that "Burn" is the Scottish term for brook or river and "Min" means small - so with the town close to Raccoon River, he said the name fit jest fine.

Baker was quite a guy, and Minburn can be right proud to bear the name he suggested. He was governor of New Hampshire at one time, and also served as Kirkwood's Civil War adjutant general.

While we're chinnin' about the namin' of Minburn, I'll have to tell you about J.B. Hill's favorite story about what the name means. Goes like this.. "Min", meaning small (Latin), and "burn", suggesting fry. Thus his explanation was that "Minburn" meant "small fry". But as the old sayin' goes, "the best goods come wrapped in the smallest packages".

Back in the old days, folks didn't bother to say Minburn...they just called it "Pinhook". You see, the town of Adel was first call Penoach, a word which got scrambled into Pinhook. In time, the country north of Adel was referred to as the "Pinhook country"...so when Minburn dropped its roots into this part of the country, guess it was just natural to call it Pinhook.

Not many trains runnin' on the old track anymore...not like in the good old days. Seems like Charles Aschan was section boss when the railroad was first put through, and as I remember it, James Jennings was the first ticket & freight agent. Luther Gill, a right smart man and attorney at law, was station agent of the D.M. & Ft. Dodge R.R. started in January of 1870. Andrew Peterson used to work on the section...don't reckon you young sprouts know what that means. The section wuz a bunch of
men that looked after the railroad and rode a little handcar they pumped themselves. Gee, how they did go by...musta went three, maybe four miles an hour! They carried picks 'n shovels to mend the road bed, and iron spikes to put in if they was broke.

Andy quit the section, got him a team 'n wagon and went to drayin'. Best man you ever saw for the job. One day one of the "fliers" went through town without stoppin'. Andy's ears warn't too good, and he didn't even hear it comin'. He was jest crossin' the tracks when WOW! Sheared that team right off the wagon, killin 'em both, and left Andy sittin' on the high seat holdin' the reins! As I rekolect, folks chipped in and got him another team, and he went right on drayin till Gabriel called him up higher.

The railroad from Des Moines to Ruthven was run as an independent road until the late nineties when the Chicago Rock Island & Pacific R.R. leased it. Reckon they got tired to runnin' it, 'cause they sold it to the M & St. L in 1906.

CHANGES IN RAILROAD

Along in March of 1958, rumors started floatin' around about losing depot service here. Folks stood around readin' a notice on the depot door about joinin' services for Dallas Center and Minburn depots, with one-half day service at each one. "Yep, this the start of the end", they said. Next, the telegraph service was ended. Then the train going thru' Minturn carried mail only - no passengers - and some mail was brought in by what they called "star route truck".

Then on April 19, 1959, the old M & St. L passenger train made its last run.

Well, they finally did it...sold the M & St. L to the Chicago & North Western Railway for $20,929,000...and they took over November 1, 1960.

COST OF LIVING

 Seems like I hear a lot of talk these days 'bout the high cost of livin'.

Now me - and some of the older folks around town - we can remember when the headlines of the Minburn Star about 1901 was "20 lbs. granulated sugar, $1". Seems like they don't put ads on the front page any more, but it was all the rage back in them days.

Slocum's sold regular 35¢ brooms for 29¢; chicken feed for 12¢ a sack; nickel plated watch and chain for $1.00.

There was heavy work harness for sale for $29.00 and single buggy harness for $5.50 up; drop head sewing machine, $15; dining chairs - fancy turned spindles and legs - 90¢, and rockers for $1.70.

The Minturn Bank solicited sale notes thru the paper. A.F. McQuie wash cashier. Seems like everyone advertised - John Shelley, the barber; Ed Harmon, plasterer; Grossman, physician and surgeon; E.A. Needler, painter and paper hanger; Albert Hagenstein, meat market; Minburn Mill exchanged flour for rye, corn, oats, etc. - J.A. Schoonover run it.

Meat at Albert Hagenstein's market- eave troughing at L.P. Smith's - watches, roof paint and jewelry at the Minburn Pharmacy - Charles Lockyer for shoes - W. Nourse for groceries - and Dr. Kay's Renovator for all ills!

Travel was cheap too. Feller could take an excursion to Lake Okoboji for 2 bucks - that bro't you home too. Lots of trains for these tracks then - four passengers going east and four goin' west. And two freights besides.

Seems like Miller's Best was THE flour back in the early 1900's - and they really told folks about it! Seems like there was an advertisin' feud between it and Garland Flour sold by L.H. Jones in his general store. The way I recollect it, the old Co-op store which stood where the D-X station is now, sold Miller's - and between them I think they supported the Minburn Star with their advertisin'.

That must have been in the late 90's - and a better battle I've never seen - verbal, that is. Folks could hardly wait to see who was goin' to pull the best advertisin' gag - Miller or Garland.

With all this ready made bread bein' trucked into town, most folks think flour is jest somethin' to thicken the gravy with. I sure do miss the cinnamon roll smell that used to drift my way when the neighbors did their bakin' - get a little whiff of it once in a while now, but not regular like in the old days. Seemed like the kids could smell it a mile off - they'd stick their noses in the air and sniff and holler, "Hey, kids, Mom's bakin'" - and away they'd go.

With yeast and everything handy now, bakin ain't much of a chore. Why, I can remember when folks had to make their own "starter" - and if you run out you jest went to the neighbors a few miles away and borrowed some. I can jest see the look on the faces of some of the sweet young wives today if a neighbor knocked on the door and said, "How about loanin' me a pinch of starter, pal?"

EARLY NEWSPAPERS

Since Beaver Township is a right close neighbor, reckon it would be fittin' to tella little bit about it, too. 8 years ago there was 3,752 acres of land all broke and improved for farmin' and 2,710 acres that wasn't improved yet. The population of the township was 427. They had 298 horses and 21 mules, too!

The first marriage in Dallas County was when George Hayworth and Mary Stump got hitched - Sept. 2, 1847. S.C. Corbell, justice of the peace, did the marryin'. The first exchange of real estate on record was Feb. 13, 1850, with Mr. and Mrs. Judah Leming, Jr., the grantors and Martin Tucker of Polk County as grantee. 100 acres brought $100.

Seems like newspapers invaded Dallas County from the start. The Ship of State, 1856, lasted nigh onto a year - it tossed about upon the uncertain waves of public patronage and then disappeared. Manager and mate managed by some means to get safely into port.

Then came the Prairie Flower in 1857 - it bloomed for a few brief months and then withered and died for want of proper nourishment. The Dallas County Union, The Western Journal, Dallas Count Gazette - and then finally the Dallas County News in 1872, with A. Dilley its editor. I hear tell it's still runnin' - different editor, of course!

MINBURN STAR'S STYLE

Somehow I been thinkin' lately about Jack Gitzy who used to have the Minburn Star. Quite a guy, that Gitzy feller. Had a style of writin' all his own - like this story sumbody found in an old paper --- Harnesses the Wind and Accomplishes Much With the Power

Minburn. Nov 8, 1901 -- Special: The geniuses who talk of using the power of Niagara Falls for the accommodation of manufacturers, etc., do a great deal of good in the way of encouraging others to believe there is nothing impossible to the determined American, but they cannot yet be compared with Iowa farmer who has harnessed the power of his windmill and made it subservient to the wishes of his family in their work indoors as well as out. Barb Glyde, who lives four miles north of Minburn, is
one who may be regarded as a really successful farmer. Twenty years ago he owned little or nothing. Today he is the proud possessor of a farm of 200 acres, clear of debt' an amiable wife who has helped him in the struggle for a home; and a charming daughter of nineteen summers in reality, sixteen in appearance and thirty in wisdom. Barb is a natural mechanic. He has a blacksmith shop on his place and does all his own work in that line. When his present windmill was put up, he conceived the idea of using its powers to the saving of his family's labors. He built around the frame a house 44 feet long by 12 wide, in which he stored his oats. He then put a shaft, and in a few months succeeded in using the mill power to run a grinder, a corn sheller, an elevator, an emery wheel, a buzz saw, a cider mill, a churn, a washing machine, a pump, and a grind stone. If occasion required, it could be used to rock the cradle. They have an easy time now on the Glyde farm, and Mr. Glyde is sensible enough to be satisfied with what he has done. He cannot be persuaded to try to use the mill power to wind the clock or pull his hired man out of bed in the morning.

In the last issue of Minburn Star, printed September 29, 1905, a front page notice read as follows:

"Elsewhere you will find announcement that The Star has joined that majority of newspapers which have gone to their graves for the lack of support - that is - simply a bare living, and that as a kind of "help you along" project or complimentary - as you please.

"Now in order to square up, we must have every cent and dollar due us; we have earned it and hence want it, and we hope every subscriber will pay when they receive the bill from me, Mrs. Gitzy or a collector.

"To Subscribers who are paid in advance, we have this to say: Please call at this office within a week or ten days and money advanced will be refunded. We expect to pay every cent and dollar we owe, and if not within a week, at least within a month. No man shall have the pleasure of saying, "I knew it," or "told you so." Just give us a fair show and no one will lose a cent.

"In conclusion, let me say that the 11 years have been as a whole, pleasant ones, and I heartily thank each and every one who has in the least contributed to the success of The Star.

Respectfully yours,
John U. Gitzy"

And then over on the next page - with the death notices - were these very sad words:

OBITUARY THE MINBURN STAR

Born September 23, 1894, under adverse circumstances. Died September 29, 1905, aged 11 years.

Records show that a mailing permit was issued to R.E. Zerwehkh in Dec., 1905, to publish the Minburn Criterion which existed several years. Reports have been received of the short existence of "The Minburn Light", which was published by Solon Guernsey. It evidently flickered out at an early age.

There is sure a lot of coughin' goin' on around town. The kids go past here gripin' about penicillin shots and all sorts of new fangled drugs. Sure give a heap of folks work diggin' up all these new medicines. Why, 50 years ago there warn't no need for only a few pills, salves and such.

Why, Dr. Humprey's cured most anything-fevers, worms, diarrhea, cholera, neuralgia, croup, rheumatism, piles, dropsy, sea-sickness - and all for 25¢.

Dr. Kay's Renovator took good care of the blood, kidneys and the liver. It was sold at the Minburn Pharmacy - and only cost a quarter.

Old Doc Kay had a lung balm, too, that took care of every kind of cough there was. If these poor kids had some of that stuff, they wouldn't have to take all them there shots!

If their hair fell out, folks didn't have to go buy a wig - they just got a bottle of Ayer's Hair Vigor, and made their hair rich, dark and heavy.

Then there was those Little Early Risers - acted promptly and never griped. They were so dainty that it was a pleasure to take them - at least that's what the ads said. Never tried them, myself.

Yes, sir, life was right simple in them days - jest a few pills or a short snort and folks was as good as new again!

HUNTINGTON FAMILY

Just got some history from the Huntingtons that lived north o' town way back - 93 years or so.

A granddaughter of old "Col. Huntington" flouts the idea of Col. Huntington being called "Colonel". She says his name wuz William Collins Huntington - sounds as if that Col. wuz short for Collins!

Anyway, he wuz born and raised a Quaker - and we all know they don't go in fer guns an' war an' morderin' yer fellow men. Col. had been a manufacturer in Boston, Mass., but he came west with his family in 1876 to try his hand at farmin' on 80 acres of virgin land north of Pinhook.

He had four children - two girls and two boys. There was Clarence William and Fred Henry - an' the girls was Emily and Ida May. Both boys left the farm early to work on the railroad that had bought the "right o'way" thru the farm. They went right on to make make railroadin' their business for life.

Emily wuz a home body but Ida May took a business course in Des Moines, got herself a job and then took up library work. She got to be a writer of poems and books for children - four of them books she writ. She outlived all the rest.

C.W. went to New Jersey in 1902 where he was an official with the Central Railroad. Later on he wuz president of the Virginian Railroad and had an office at 60 Wall Street in that there city folks call New York.

Fred Henry staid with the Rock Island a long time in Des Moines, then moved on to California. In 1918 the mother and the girls went west too. Ida May died in 1953.

The older folks will recall Col. W.C. Huntington, the father. One son, Will, went workin' on the railroad a long time ago, and worked up to an office position at the Rock Island. He's had important executive positions with various railroads - was even president and general manager of a railroad in New Jersey. He was vice president and general manager of the Milwaukee and St. Louis somewhere around 1911 - and it was through his efforts (following a visit with his old friend, E.L. Hill) that the present brick depot was built in Minburn. Seems like the old one burned down - and it was quite an honor to have a brick depot in such a small town.

I remember the political arguments Col. Huntington (who was a hard and fast Republican) used to have with George Blackburn - who was just as much Democrat as the Col. was Republican! Seems as if they both had government jobs in Washington back in Grover Cleveland's administration.

Spring rains always remind of the spell we had about 1912. There was a whole week when folks couldn't get across the river, finally the water went down enough so that teams could go over the grades without any danger. The first trip that week that the mail carriers got across, the sacks (mail sacks, that is) was sure filled to overflowing.

That was about the same time that the Arlington Hotel opened under the management of Winnie Mitchell. The whole buildin' had been thoroughly renovated and the interior decorated - from cellar to third floor. A.F. McQuie, who owned the buildin', spared no expense in makin' it all shipshape. Sunday was the big openin', and they served a right nice meal, cooked good and with extra dainties added.

That's the same spring that Mrs. Pat Flynn went to her reward. Back in them days the papers didn't say someone died or passed away - they wrote it real sentimental like: "Before the family could reach her bedside, life was gone and the spirit of mother had passed outward and upward to its reward".

The Pat Flynn family lived for forty years in the same house in Minburn - raised all five of their children there. Fine family they were, too.

I remember back about the middle of May, 1870, a man named Cummings found the remains of a mastodon about seven miles southeast of Minburn.

He had been diggin' a "slough well" near the lines where his farm joined that of another man. He had dug about five feet when he struck a bone - then went on and dug up the whole thing. Cummings found the skeleton but it was on the other man's land. So a lawsuit was necessary to settle the matter. They turned the bones over to the sheriff!

The tusks were 14 feet in length and two feet through at the largest place. One of the teeth, a molar, measured 8 12 inches long, 6 1/2 inches wide, and 4 inches thick. Great excitement over the discovery! Two companies were organized in Dallas Center to hunt for mastodons. Must have been mighty big creatures - the bones of the head alone weighed 150 pounds.

Sounds like some of the fish stories I hear the boys tellin' - but that's the way I always heard it!

Warn't many fences away back then - cattle and horses roamed the wide prairie at will. At night a boy was sent to round up the stock and bring it to shelter. Some times animals couldn't be found - a sly gang of horse thieves was always on the watch for the best they could find. A Protective Association was formed which made things hot for these outlaws!

I reckon I better tell you about some of those good times folks used to have. You know in them days, people kind of made their own entertainment - didn't have these new fangled shows right in their own homes that come out of a big box - and didn't have money to go galavantin' all over the country to doin's either.

One of the big things was necktie sociables. I don't rightly remember just what they did - but know they had a lot of fun. Probably the women made neckties to sell - all the socials in those days were money raising efforts, for money was mighty scarce.

Early in the summer there was Strawberry festivals - and folks went away practically with strawberries stickin' out their ears!

And then there was those wild Flinch parties! These young squirts today probably don't know what Flinch cards are - but they're heaps of fun. Jest got numbers on em - no fancy hearts and queens and sech.

In the fall there was huskin' bees - with a prize for everyone who found a ear of red corn. And then there was those big oyster suppers when the corn was all picked - and folks gathered to celebrate another year's farm work done.

Square dances was the big events - most of them at folks homes. Rugs didn't bother much, for most folks didn't have rugs on their floors in them days. And oh, what fun them gay blades had swingin' their gals around. If they swung 'em fast enuf, skirts might jest fly out so the lassies' ankles could be seen!

Speaking of socials, one that was right popular in 1880's was a basket affair. The girls brought baskets in which was food for two. The men bought the baskets, paying at them at so much a pound of the girl's weight - after weighing the girl whose name he drew from a grab bag. I remember one time when Henry Minnis drew the name of a 10-year-old, so he said gaily, "Weigh the basket, too!"

Things wasn't always that peaceable in Minburn, though! Back in 1879 folks got all riled up about saloons - a petition was signed by 100 citizens to ask them to close - they closed! Later, a woman sold liquor and the Band of Hope asked her to stop. A Temperance Club had 160 members and was real active for awhile. One saloon struggled along for quite a spell, but a lot of good was done in educatin' folks about the evil influence and terrible effects of the use of alcoholic drinks.

I was jest thinkin' about a story on the front page of a Minburn Criterion away back in November of 1907. Seems like initiations were really ruf then - anyway, here's the story.

"Four Minburnites are birds! They went to Perry Tuesday night, made a noise like an egg, had their shell busted, and came back home full fledged and sleepy Eagles. They will be of the bald variety a little later in life, but just now they are only the ordinary American species. One of the, Herman Keller, didn't come through his shell with the ease and grace of the others. It was only the loss of one tooth, and as he had 27 others in fairly good repair, this makes little difference when it comes to eating. The trouble is that it was a front tooth and he sorta lisps a little now when he talks.

The lodge pays the doctor bill, however, and a dentist is a doctor, so outside of the pleasure of being in the dental chair, he will probably be freed of expense. It exposed his nerve, though, and that was painful. A slight swelling of the jaw shows where they set the pry to get him out of the shell. As soon as he got used to the outside air he was alright, but the Perry boys hinted he was pretty well inclined to run for awhile.

Herman was one of the two candidates worked on while the remaining 30 had their initiation by watch what happened to their comrade from here. That's the "why" of the disfigurement. Besides him, the candidates from here were Will and Gene Clements and Ed McCullum.

Seems like old times, the first things they want to do when they come back for a visit, is visit the cemeteries around the country. That makes sense, too, 'cause that's where a lot their friends are. I kinda like the way Southern folks say it - Garden of Memories. That's what they really are, you know, and it don't sound quite so cold and formidable.

Folks just wander around, reading the names on tombstones, and figuring out how many of their kids is still livin' - or if they went to school to the same teachers - or maybe had a little crush on each other back in their romancin' days. Yep, it's just like walkin' into a friend's living room and chattin' for a spell.

Which all goes to show when a man's lease on earth is up, it's his deeds - good or bad - that remains among the livin'. Seems like that would make some folks think a bit about bein' good neighbors and sech.

When I sniff a bit of spring in the air, that means Memorial Day is comin' up. That's the day I look forward to all year - 'cause it brings so many of my old friends back to Minburn. Folks that never come no other time. They bring flowers, car loads of 'em, and fix the graves all up pretty. But the nicest part is that they just sort of wander around, talkin' to old friends and kinda livin' in the past for a day.

There's lots of fine folks down there in that Garden of Memories.

Folks getting new cars don't seem to stir up the fuss that it used to. Back in the early part of the century it was front page news when anyone got silly enough to buy one. I can remember when H.E. Boyd and his wife went to Des Moines to - well, let's quote it from the fron page of a 1910 Minburn Criterion" "H.E. Boyd and wife went to Dallas Center and Des Moines Tuesday, the trip to the latter place having to do with the selection of one of these buzz wagons that keep people awake nights until they own one, and the won't let them sleep because of the fifty-seven varieties of trouble they bring to a many who never thought himself mechanic enough to start a lawn mower- to say nothing of a washing machine."

Barb Glyde bought the first automobile in Dallas Co. It was a 1 cylinder Cadillac, with one door directly in back for the back seat. When Barb drove to town in his car and back home a mile north of town at a speed of about 20 miles an hour, people would say, "That man's going to kill himself driving that fast!" Horses sure didn't like it when these gas buggies took over the roads. I remember hearing Barb tell about how he had to get out of his car and lead the horse past!

And as little later, Joe Slocum, who owned the hardware store, bought a car that had high wheels like a buggy and looked like a two-seated spring buggy without the horses. These cars were quite a sight!

Horses went wild sometimes, too, like a long time ago when we pretty near had a tragedy here. Mary Prtichard and her son Alec were driving along the road with one of their horses, an animal which was supposed to be steady, when it became frightened, and started to run away. Alec turned the horse into a fence and stopped it, and after it quieted down, they went on their way. He run through the grove on the George Harrison place, striking the trees and throwing the riders from the buggy. Alec
was thrown out first and then his mother was thrown against a tree, one of her lower limbs catch in a wheel.

Dr. Grossman was called and could find no broken bones, but the pain was awful. Mrs. Pritchard was a long time gettin' over that runaway and I am told that it was a long time before she got up nerve enough to get behind one of those wild horses again.

Folks go past here on their way to the post office, and from what I hear, it's not much like the old days when they used to drive their backboards down to Pierce's Point to get the mail that was brought in by stage coach. The old timers say that Pierce's Point was down across the ravine from where Clarence Hill lives now - it was the B.B. Hill place then. Clarence tells how the old "post office" was kept in the old ancestral log house for quite a spell, and thinks the boxes disappeared when the log house was torn down in 1915.

Another famous land mark of Minburn "bit the dust" back in 1956 - they filled in the old town well and in a few years the younger folks won't know it was even there.

Guess it hadn't been used for a long time - but folks ought to know something about it. Folks always used to say that anyone who drank water from the town well would always come back to Minburn some day.

There used to be a bandstand built around the pump, with steps going to the seats upstairs. Water was pumped through a pipe out to the watering trough for the horses - and there was rails around the band stand so the horses couldn't get inside. It was a right popular loafing place in them days - men would go over to get a cold drink and set on the rail a spell, and first thing somebody else came along and they started spinning yarns a yard long.

Folks from all around carried water to their homes from the old town pump. One fine woman - the family was German immigrants - used to carry two buckets at a time, hung from a wooden yoke she wore on her shoulders.

Makes a feller a little sad, seein' the old pump dumped down in the well - and the hole all filled up - but guess there ain't no stoppin' progress. There is water squirting all over Minburn through pipes now - right into folks homes - so guess there wouldn't be not need for the old well anyway.

One of the early settlers wrote this story of a colored woman some of you folks may remember. She lived over on the west side of the tracks. Here is the story just as it was writ:

"Among the early comers to Minburn was a colored woman we called 'Aunt Becky'. She was a southern Negro and had been a slave, and was the regimental cook for the 72d Indiana Infantry (Union Army), had marched with Sherman to the sea, and had participated in the Grand Review of troops in Washington D.C., at the close of the war.

'She was a fine cook, washed for folks, and nursed the sick in many homes in and about Minburn for many years.

"She was a good old soul. Aunt Becky was a Methodist of the real old-fashioned shout kind; often she used to cut some strange capers in camp meetings, when in an ecstasy of religious excitement. She was a widow when she came to town and remained so for many years, but about 1885 a colored barber named John Woodly came to Minburn and set up a shop.

He was far from measuring up to Aunt Becky's ideal as to temperance and sobriety, but he was homeless and alone so despite the protests of her friends, Aunt Becky would and did marry John, who announced that he would 'jine de Chaich'. I guess he did, but her determination to reform him was a failure, for they had a tempestuous life and she finally drove him from her cabin for good.

"Later he died, and in 1885 the poor soul herself was carried to her last resting place by kind friends who had some years seen to it that she was not in absolute want. Her body was found, kneeling at her bedside, by little Myra Pierce (11 years old) in the yellow house that formerly stood just east of the present Madonna Welch home. Hers is one of the few stones remaining intact at the Myers cemetery northwest of town, Rebecca J. Woodly.

Other negro families included the Mash's who lived east of Minburn and attended rural school taught by Jennie Hill. Old Ben Poole was the father of Mrs. Susue Duffy who, with son Jim, lived northeast Minburn in a very small cabin on the site of the Glenn Nursing Home. Jimmie, born about 1908, went through the local school and was always very much a part of the community.

IN MEMORY OF ELIZA ROGERS MCNUTT

Many of the contributions for this column came from Eliza Gertrude Rogers McNutt. It is with a bit of sadness that I tell the final story of this remarkable woman, one of the pioneers of Minburn.

Eliza Gertrude Rogers McNutt, born in Minburn March 19, 1876, died in San Pedro, California October 15, 1961, at the age of 85 years, 6 months.

Mrs. McNutt liked people, people of all ages and stations in life. More than 50 young men and women were given the opportunity to go to college from their home, as they earned board and room from working in the McNutt Dairy. She shared her sister Julia's interest in sea shells, and assisted her in the preparation of "The Shell Book" for publication. Her passion for learning came from the childhood home in Iowa where someone read aloud while others worked. Mrs. McNutt was the only one of the
eight Rogers children who did not finish a formal college course, but she was always studying something new.

She was intensely proud of her pioneer heritage, and of her birthplace, Minburn. The Rogers family home was located on the hill at the site of present Minburn Park, which is still often referred to as "Rogers Park", where old-timers and their descendants gather each Fourth of July to re-live old memories and make new friends.

Symbolic of her life on earth were three words, found by her family on her table after her death: "We shall all be young again in a glorious new world. We have to die to live".

(The last Millstone column appeared in the May 29, 1969, issue of the Minburn Booster)

It's bin a long spell since me and the boss lady had a gab session.

I had started thinkin' the old gal had plum fergot me. But what she came and told me 'tother day jest made me roll with joy! Seems that this here town is fixin' to celebrate its 100th birthday - and this old Mill Stone is goin' to be the BIG WHEEL! That's what she says it means when you picked to be the official emblem for the Centennial". Jest imagine me, a worn out old stone and not much to look at, havin' my likeness on souvenir coins, party plates, and sech. Heard I was goin' to be on the front cover of the history book too, and have a section all my own of old Mill Stone columns. And guess what - they're goin' to move me to the park by the skatin' rink where I can see more goins' on.

I just can't hardly believe it - but jest goes to show you that beauty's only skin deep. And real genuine folks like these Minburn people look for the real value down underneath.

Jest today, this old friend of mine whispered into my stone ears that this is the last issue she and her boss man are going to publish. Makes me a bit sad, 'cause we sure has had sum good times together. But old age ketches up with all of us - fellin' kinda tired myself! Seems there is some young folks takin' over now.

So guess if she's goin' to retire, this old stone won't have no one to talk to no more. I'll be happy jest settin' there in the park, watchin' Minburn go right on growin'. Won't be telln' nary a word these old stone ears hear, but don't ferget folk - I may be dumb, but not deaf!