School of Choice

Because the Davis family lived so far out in the country, getting the children to school was an ongoing challenge.  Obviously Harker and Della were committed to education, and they tried a variety of school settings in their efforts to allow their children to gain an education.

Birdie - School was quite a problem.  The first winter [after moving to Kendrick] it was decided that Mother and all the children would move to Pueblo [about 90 miles away] for the winter and attend school.  

Birdie's simple statement doesn't really do justice to the challenging situation this would have been.  At this time there were 7 children in the family.  The four oldest - Birdie (12), Norman (9), Augusta (8), and Floyd (6) went to school.  The younger ones - Lemuel (4), Mable (3), and Garnons (1 1/2) kept their mother Della busy at home, and Johnny was born in October of that year.  No phones or email would have made communication with Harker who had stayed on the ranch, slow and infrequent, and I suppose he was only able to visit on rare occasions.

Norman - . . . Dad moved us all to Pueblo for school.  It was a 90 mile move.  Dad rented a town house [a house in town, as opposed to the country].  It was a new experience for us country kids, and we had lots of new experiences.  For one thing, I was run home from school every night by a gang of bullies.  Birdie had to take my part [defend me] lots of times.  One night Dad happened to be there, and was cleaning the barn in the alley when he saw those big toughies chasing Floyd and I.  I had picked up a wire with a bolt tied to the end and was swinging it around and around over my head to keep them off.  As we neared the barn, Dad stepped out and invited the boys to come on, one at a time, and he would see a fair fight.  But the boys very quietly slipped away.

Johnny was born in October, so there was another one to take home in the spring when Dad came for us.  The moving was a big task as the children were too small to be a big help, and Mother was far from well.  Birdie worried a great deal about it.  But dad had to hurry to get the moving over as lambing time was close at hand.

Next they tried a neighborhood school:

Birdie - The winter of 1907 we drove to school. Mr. Deming/Denning had two children ready to go, so he and Daddy hired a teacher, and he taught us in a nice two room cottage just east of the Deming residence.  It was five miles for us to drive, but we had a nice two seat spring wagon and a team of little bay mares to drive.

This arrangement didn't work out so well.  The Demings were well to do people, and their children had everything and were spoiled terribly by Grandpa and Grandma who lived with them.  One day Grandpa did the washing as usual and had the lines full of white sheets.  We were out playing baseball at noon, and Ned got mad at Floyd and picked up a ball of mud and threw it at Floyd who ran into the school house; Ned's mud hit a sheet.  He ran in to tell his Grandpa that Floyd threw the mud on his sheet.  The old man was short and pudgy; here he came on the prance, mad and talking as fast as he ran.  He called Floyd a nasty name and said there was always a black sheep in every family, and he was the one in our family.  This made me mad, so we hitched up our team and all went home and told our daddy.  Well, Daddy took me and back we went to see what the rumpus was all about.  After some time Daddy said he never had caught me in a lie, and if I said Floyd didn't do it, he knew he didn't.  The old man apologized, and we went to school the rest of that year, but I never felt just right toward the old man again.

School transportation was also an issue while living on the plains. 

Norman - I well remember when Richard was born, April 1907.  At that time we were going to school at Denning's and driving old Roanie.  Although it was April, we left school that day in a storm.  It was snowing and blowing so we could hardly see where we were going.  About half way home, we could no longer see the road, but Roanie knew where he was going, and he plodded right along.  When we got home we felt nearly frozen. The hired man took charge of the horse, and we went in the house and saw the new baby. 

Private school was the last hope, but obviously the children were not happy with the teacher.  

 Birdie - The next year Daddy built a little one-room cement house and hired a teacher who was proving up on a homestead by the Post Office.  He had no transportation so some of us went for him Sunday evening and took him back Friday evening.  We put a folding bed and a dresser in the school room so he slept out there, but ate with us.  We kept him for two years.  By that time I could hardly tolerate him.  He began to feel like he owned the place and was so attentive to me, wiping dishes, setting the table, just always in the way. 

Mable - [In Kendrick] Daddy built us a school house, and we were taught by Mr. Wiley.  He was single and didn't care for a very curious little girl, so I got spanked every day.  If I could see him today, I'd kick him on the shins! 

Undated, unlabeled picture of some of the Davis girls.

After this, Harker decided his family needed more social life and a better school situation.  He had a chance to sell the ranch and all the sheep, so it let it all go.

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School Days

Birdie - When I was ready for school I had to go to the “Lone Star” school which was three miles southwest of our place. Daddy bought a little high-spirited pony, and I rode horseback for three years. Lots of mornings I would be so cold I couldn’t walk when I’d get there. A boy about 15 years old always was there to build the fire and get the school house warm. Many times he would carry me in and set me by the stove, and if it was stormy he would get my pony and put me on her to go home at night. There were 7 kids riding horseback to school, only two going my way, but we did enjoy it when it wasn’t too cold.

Uncle Jim and gotten married by now, and Aunt Fern was sure I’d get hurt riding that pony. No wonder she worried, for we would go by her home on a dead run, dinner pails rattling and girls giggling, talking and yelling like three little Indians.

After I went three years horseback, Norman was ready for school, so Daddy bought a cart and we drove to school two years. Then Augusta (born 5 August 1897) was ready to go. She had to sit down front in a basket at our feet. We had one gate to go through if we went by Uncle Jim’s place. This particular evening we had to give Uncle Jim a note from Daddy, so we went that way. Norman opened the gate, but he couldn’t shut it, so I got out to help him and the pony started off on a trot. We couldn’t run fast enough to catch her, so we told Gusta to jump out. What did she do? She threw out lunch pails, quilts and everything else in the cart before she jumped out! So besides walking on home, we had all those things to carry. Imagine three unhappy tired children lugging all that down the road. When the pony arrived home without her passengers Mother sent Uncle Jack back to pick us up and were we ever glad

Norman - As time went on there were three of us going to school. Birdie, as the eldest, was our driver, and things do happen! [One time we had] a broken buggy shaft by bumping a cow that was too gentle to move out of the way. [Another time] there was a barbed wire gate to pass through. It was tight and hard to close. Augusta was too small to be of much help, so I had to call on Birdie. Augusta was left in the buggy. The horse became impatient to get started and headed for home while we were shutting the gate. Birdie shouted to Augusta to get out. She did, but first she emptied out the robes, dinner pails and books. So we were loaded as we started to trudge home. When the horse and empty buggy got to Uncle Jim’s place, he turned it around and came back and got us.

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Farming on the Colorado Prairie

Raising, feeding and caring for 13 children living on the Colorado prairie, Della and Harker Davis experienced long days of hard work.  The responsibilities of the home and children fell to Della, and Harker took his commitment to provide a living for his family very seriously. Circumstances required that the children work alongside the adults whenever possible - even planting potatoes!

Antique potato planter probably similar to the one used by Grandpa Davis.

Norman - One year Dad put in 80 acres of potatoes. The potatoes for planting were cut in quite large pieces, so they would provide moisture to start the plant along, and each piece must have at least one eye. A potato planter in those days was made either as a sled with a V-shaped plow effect, or with wheels and the same sort of plow. The person doing the planting had a seat, and a large box containing the potatoes to be planted.

Horse drawn potato planter

The year the 80 acres were planted I was still a small boy, but Dad gave me a gentle team with which to work the knife weeder. At the end of the field I turned too short, and somehow the horses became tangled. They took off down the field, turning the knife sled over on me as they went. I managed to escape injury, and the horses were not hurt, though they tangled in the lines and tugs, and one animal was down by the time Dad got there. He was working with another team in the same field, and had seen my difficulty. I remember helping pick up potatoes that fall. There were several pickers, as we hired help.

Seed potatoes with eyes ready to plant

 Birdie - Where the land was plowed for sod, became our field after plowing deeper and working it up. Corn and potatoes were the main crops. Some milo (a grain sorghum) and corn was planted for hay crops. The corn was planted with a hand planter, but potatoes were planted with a riding planter. I rode the horse while Uncle Jim dropped the potatoes one piece at a time down a chute to where a V shaped digger made a ditch in the row. It was a regular nightly chore to have the men bring tubs and a sack of potatoes into the kitchen. We would cut them in pieces, each piece having at least one eye. This done, we went to bed knowing the next day’s planting was ready for us. This was the order of the day for a week or so, for we planted several acres of potatoes which were taken to Colorado Springs and Cripple Creek to exchange for apples or groceries for winter use.

We also raised beef and pork which was butchered and taken to market. Several trips were made each winter. Sometimes we were able to get a load of coal from Canon City which was used in our cook stove and a large heater.

1st planter image here

2nd planter image here

Sheep Shearing by guest contributor - Florence Callaway

Mary Florence (Davis) and Evan Callaway
October, 1980

We read here about Lou's childhood memories of sheep shearing on Grandpa Davis' ranch. This entry, also about the business of shearing sheep, is courtesy of Lou's aunt - Florence Davis Callaway, Mable Butler's sister. Florence wrote a very detailed personal history and included many great stories about life on the Davis sheep ranch. The men she mentions by name in the excerpt below are all her brothers.

After all the lambs were born and some sent to camp and the ewes who didn’t lamb were separated out together, it was time to get ready for shearing. Daddy found out that if the sheep had contacted cockle-burrs in the pastures and they had them buried in their wool, he would be docked in price. He found it to be true and now what was to be done? The problem was solved by Mother taking the tongues out of shoes and making finger stalls so they could be used to pull the burrs from the wool. Now all the sheep had to be brought in, caught one by one, held on a bench and worked over. The leather stalls worked fine and protected the fingers, as those burrs were sharp as needles. Old shoes and some new ones were used; what a job! We had buckets of burrs to burn. The hoes, too, came in handy. As the boys were now in camp, they were on the lookout for snakes, but also, burr plants were to be chopped out before the burrs got ripe.

Now that the lambing and burring was over, the shearing had to take place. The first year the boys did the shearing by hand, and it was a terribly big job. I will attempt to tell about the process, because my grandchildren and perhaps my great grandchildren will never see it, for even in my day we had machines for the shearing.

Sheep shearing with old-fashioned clippers
photo courtesy of flickr

The shears they used were something like scissors, except much larger, but used the same way. The fleece (the wool which came off of the sheep) was gathered up by hand and put into a big gunny (burlap) sack which was about twenty-four inches in diameter and nine or ten feet long. The gunnysack was suspended on a stand. The boys built the stand with lumber which was taller than the sack and had a hoop which held the sack open at the top of the stand. The sack was suspended down to about two feet above the ground. This had to be sturdy enough for a man to jump into it and tromp down the wool to make it firm in the sack. Norman and Floyd did the shearing, sometimes Daddy. Lemmie picked up the fleece and tied it into a ball, and Garney threw it up to the top of the platform above the sack. Lemmie, Daddy, or one of the hired men packed it down by tromping on it; I think they took turns with the jobs. After a sack was well packed up to the top, it was dropped down to the ground by removing the hoop at the top of the platform. Then the top of the sack was sewn together and tied with an ear on each side to be handled and rolled aside. It was an interesting process and people came from mile around to watch it done. I hope I have explained it sufficient for you to get an idea of what a job it was for them to do.

All work stopped, usually at 10:00 a.m. and Mother, Augusta, Mable and we little girls brought fresh doughnuts, coffee, and water and everyone rested. It took a full batch of bread. Mother made bread in a No. 2 washtub. Was it ever good! She fried our own bread doughnuts. Of course the older girls did the housework, baking, bed making, and the many things keeping the home for all the children and men folk.

The shearing kept up until all sheep on the ranch were sheared and put out to pasture. The wool sacks were kept in the shed until the buyers made a bid. Usually two or three bids. Then the wool was hauled in to Haswell to be shipped on the train to the buyer.

I'm not sure I could have kept up with the responsibilities of the wife and mother of such a large family. Della and her daughters certainly knew how to work and run a household well. And I don't think I know any boys who would be willing to pull burrs from sheep wool - after cutting up their shoes to do so! My life looks pretty soft!

Sheep Shearing

Sheep Shearer in Colorado, circa 1920 - 1940
photo courtesy of:
Western History/Genealogy Department, Denver Public Library

One of the favorite times we had at the ranch in Haswell was in the summer when it was time to shear the sheep. For weeks the several herds had been working their way towards the ranch in preparation for the shearing. Everything had to work like clockwork when the shearing crew would arrive.

These crews were from Texas, and would consist of about 8 shearers with a trailer that had an engine to run the clippers and about 8 stations, four on each side. The trailer had doors so they could just lower the doors, lock them, and be on their way to the next ranch. With a schedule set up according to how many sheep the ranch had to be sheared, everything had to be ready or they could not arrive at the next ranch at the appointed time.

The herders would have the sheep on the hills where they could get water from the two lakes and still not get mixed up with the other herds. But that was not all that had to be done. Grandma Davis had to have sufficient supplies of food to feed the shearing crew plus the extra hands needed to work the ranch during this time, ad well as the family. It seems there were always visitors to watch the shearing also.

Shearing time was always a good time to cull out sheep that were getting too old to be profitable any more and to locate sickly or others for making up a new herd to be prepared for immediate sale or treatment of some kind.

Sheep chute
photo courtesy of: flickr

The men would run a herd through a long chute coming out of the large barn. Usually it was Grandpa who was telling the man at the gate which way to send the sheep, and he would switch the movable panel to send the sheep to the pen on the right or on the left. When finished sending a herd through the chute, men would put the different groups into smaller corrals according to their condition.

After this was done, the different groups would go to the shearers to give up their wool and then they would be herded off to special pastures by their herders. Those needing additional treatment would be kept back to have more added to their groups as the next herd would be sorted out in like manner.

Sheep shearing - circa 1900

photo courtesy of flickr

Next came the actual shearing. They grab the sheep by the front leg and set him up on his hind quarters and start shearing the belly first. A good shearer will end up with the wool all together as though they had skinned it! When they finish with one sheep, the man who picks up the wools give the shearer a token (like a coin) and he is paid by the number of tokens he turns into the boss when the day is over. So the faster they shear, the more money they make.

When the shearers break for dinner at noon, they consume a great quantity of food, for they work very hard, very fast, and it is very hot down on the plains of eastern Colorado. As kids, we helped some with the meals, but mainly we shared in the eating because we used up a lot of energy playing and working around the shearing pens and helping to get herds into the barn for separating and many odd jobs that had to be done.

Della Davis

Mixed in with Dad's personal and family histories, I found a short history of Harker and Della Davis written by an unknown family member, probably a granddaughter. Enjoy this insight into the life of a homestead wife in the early 1900's.

Della Davis with her daughters, about 1920 -1921
L to R (back): Edna, Mable (Lou's mother), Birdie, Augusta, Florence
(front): Rachel, Della, Marjorie

"Their first summer in Kiowa County, Charles (Harker) and his older sons worked on the Mill’s Sheep Ranch with Della as cook for all hired hands and both families. The older daughters cared for a flock of bucks and dry ewes at their home place. It was a hard summer, but enough money was made to begin progress on their own ranch. A six bedroom adobe house was built, along with an L-shaped sheep shed and a bunk house for sheepherders. A wash house, a garage, and several outbuildings were added. Adobe blocks were a good building material; they held heat in the winter months and helped insulate from the sun in the summer."

Della with the Jersey cow from son Floyd who earned it working for Mr. Mills on the sheep ranch.

"School and church were very important to the Davis family. At Kendrick they built a one-room school and hired a teacher for two years. Della was seldom able to attend church herself, but she had a great desire for her children to have religious training."

Weekly or perhaps twice weekly bread baking.

"Della ordered clothes from the Montgomery Ward catalog, and upon arrival, clothes were carefully marked for each child. She was a good seamstress, quilted, crocheted, and was a good cook and housekeeper. She often baked 15 to 30 loaves of bread at a time, and when hired help was to be fed, she baked twice a week. Water for cooking, drinking and bathing had to be hauled to a cistern near the house. Meals usually consisted of mutton, pinto beans, bread, some dried fruits. She made her own butter, cottage cheese, and hominy. She gardened when water was available; she raised chickens and turkeys."

"Della introduced her children to home remedies: tobacco juice for bruises and ringworm, onion and honey boiled for colds, mustard baths for spasms, mustard and spices for pneumonia. She was mid-wife on occasion, learned how to care for and cure eczema cases, and she set bones."

She gives new meaning to the term 'working mother!'