MUSCATINE COUNTY IOWA HISTORY

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Picture – School bus Model1917 – Courtesy of Curtis Frymoyer
This is the horse and buggy that the three children of Mr. and Mrs. J.K. Frymoyer used for transportation to the Wilton Public School. Curtis Frymoyer stands beside Dolly.

Driving to School with Horse and Buggy

By Lydia Nagel

Transcribed by Elizabeth Casillas, February 6, 2016

     It was in the autumn of 1915 that my sister and I quit Sugar Creek School in Cedar County and enrolled in Wilton Public School where the new building had just been completed. I guess Dad thought that as long as he had one daughter driving in a buggy each day, he might as well have three. Pauline, a freshman in high school, being the oldest, was the driver. I, the youngest, was elected to sit on Edythe’s lap. So it was in this position that I was a ready target for muddy water that spurted up whenever the buggy wheels broke through a layer of ice in ruts along the dirt country roads. The feed barn where we kept our horse and buggy was about five blocks from the school, and if the weather was cold we could go into the office for a few minutes to warm up. Usually, however, we hurried to school immediately. One morning Doc Abbott who owned the barn said, “Hey, Pony, give me a kiss.” We all like Doc for his cheery, friendly manner, but his remark puzzled me until I looked into the office mirror, then I knew. My face was so spattered with mud that I, a very blonde child, looked like the most freckle-faced youngster you have ever seen. Another incident at the barn that I remember happened when Mr. Rush operated it. A schoolmate and I were indulging in some “kid foolishness”; he pushed on the outside of the office door so I couldn’t get out, and I pushed on the inside. But I pushed on the glass and a crash ensued. We had to pay for the glass. Among the high school students who drove an obvious case of romance involved a girl, always well dressed, who waited each day outside the feed barn till . . .

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. . . the object of her affections appeared. There were other cases but they were more subtle.

     There was always good fellowship between those of us who drove. Three Frymoyers, Georgia, Lucile and Curtis drove from our direction. Also we were in the same classes in school. Another thing we had in common was the fact that our fathers felt we had to drive tame, reliable horses. That didn’t mean they were fleet-footed, but we did our best to make them that way by slapping the reins and flicking the buggy whip. Whenever we got to what was known as Arnott’s corner, the Frymoyer-Kaufmann race was on to see who could get to town first. I don’t think we ever broke any speed records, but we would be at school early and “Daddy” Winsell would let us in because we were country kids. Town kids had to wait till 8:30 before they were admitted. If we were a little late we were forgiven that, too, because driving four or five miles meant you didn’t always know how long it would take. But we were seldom late.

     Warm weather in fall meant we would have a refreshing breeze blowing through the buggy, but on rainy days and in winter the side curtains would be snapped on and we would have a robe over our feet and knees and warm scarves protecting our faces. The well-worn smooth roads of fall would have changed to rough, rutted, frozen roads of winter. We tried to keep the buggy wheels out of the ruts although it meant jolty riding. Sometimes the wheels slipped into a deep rut and there was no way to get out except keep going until it became shallower or another track crossed it. In time, the roughness would be worn down, but each time the roads thawed new ruts would be made and frozen at night. Snowfall meant the ruts would be filled and made smooth. Buggy wheels were high enough to get through any snowdrifts that a horse could cross. Our horses were shod so we had no trouble with skidding on ice. When warm spring weather arrived the roads dried and were graded and dragged and we could again enjoy smooth riding and warm breezes that we experienced even in the occasional hot days of late spring.

     When I was a junior in high school I drove alone. “Nancy,” our old reliable buggy horse, had died, so I was given a new one, a little quicker and a bit skittish. One day when driving home, something frightened her and she started kicking. When her heels came through the dashboard I jumped out of the buggy, held onto the reins, and landed on my feet. By the time she quieted down, the buggy was a shambles. With only a little persuasion on my part, Dad grinned and agreed to let me ride the same pony that my brother Togo had ridden to school a few years earlier. Girls weren’t wearing jeans or slacks then, so I wore a full, pleated skirt to school and high top shoes to protect my ankles from the heavy stirrups on the cowboy saddle that really belonged to my brother Joe. At that time Dad still owned the fairgrounds and since it was near the school and there was a good horse barn there, that was when I stabled Madge.

     I loved riding horseback, but sometimes when I had played baseball after school, I was a bit afraid to get my pony in the big, empty barn, so I changed my plan of action: I went for the pony immediately after school, tied her to a tree on the school grounds, and then played ball until everyone had to go home. Riding horseback limited my wearing apparel, but there was such an enjoyable sense of . . .

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. . . freedom in the motion of the galloping pony that I never missed the last buggy my father owned. Also, I could travel faster, and that meant I could play ball on the school grounds longer.

     On one blizzardy day in my senior year the cold air cut through my cotton stockings and the blowing snow slapped hard against my face. Still, I didn’t really mind the weather; you might say it was a challenge. However, when I got half way to town I decided that I was entitled to a day off from school. No one would blame me for missing school when the weather was so bad, so I turned around and rode home. I guess you might say I played hookey and got away with it.

     On mornings when the weather was pleasant, I saddled Madge myself just as we girls had hitched the horse to the buggy in earlier years. But on rainy or stormy days, Dad or one of my brothers did. I don’t remember ever minding bad weather or bad roads. That was the way things were and we accepted it.

     (Note: The first Wilton student to drive a car to school is said to have been Charles Gray in the early 20’swith a brand new four cylinder Chevrolet. He made the six mile trip to school every day in all kinds of weather over some of the worst roads and was seldom absent or tardy.)

Picture – West side of Cedar Street before cars – Courtesy of William Nelson